Alabama Kitchen Sink

New Grandson

2012-01-22T09:52:00.000-06:00

I suppose he deserves more than a quick post, but Nathaniel Trent Noblitt is one fine little guy. I suppose too that he will take the world on his own terms since he decided to come a day before the scheduled c-section for his mother. He is beautiful, with a high-pitched cry to let the world know that he requires attention--not that I have heard too much of it. That is the beauty of grandparenting. For the most part we get the fun stuff and the parents get the practical.

“Diaper backward spells repaid. Think about it.”

Together

2011-12-17T09:51:00.000-06:00

Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.

Helen Keller

Truck & driver from United Stationers.

After months of work to get approval from the food bank for a same-day pantry, we finally had our first distribution day this month. Thrice weekly for years we had been getting bread donations and distributing them to our residents, but this undertaking was on a definitely grander scale. We asked for permission to do a monthly distribution of food. When the only way to gain approval was as a weekly pantry, we said, “We will make it work.”

A partial pallet of eggplant & me.

The order was placed last week, volunteers from our major donor lined up, and the cherry on the top—we actually went out to the food bank and made the pickup--thanks again to our donor who provided the driver and truck. As my colleague Penny and I poked through the extra free stuff, I thought about what a long journey it had been to this point. Our purchases were fork lifted into the truck and off we went back to our property. Little did we realize what was in that pallet of produce and just how many loaves of bread were in the boxes on another pallet. But, free is free and these free items were intriguing.

As our maintenance team unloaded the truck we soon discovered that the pallet of produce was entirely comprised of eggplant. However, the cereal, rice, canned tomatoes, diced fruit, coffee, crackers, turkey sausages, and more free produce seemed just perfect.

Penny took a knife to the cabbage to clean it up a bit, and we all worked hard before our senior residents started to congregate in the lobby. We had told the residents to come at their appointed times, but excited and curious residents were already waiting for 45 minutes before we let the first person through the door—a little Serbian lady. They came, a virtual United Nations. Polish, Serbian, Bosnian, Russian, African (Eritrean, Ethiopian, Liberian, Somali). Indian, Iraqi, Iranian, Vietnamese, Mexican, Cuban, Armenian, Pakistani, Argentinean, Jamaican, and American—all united in one purpose: free food.

The beauty of this operation, and yes, it is a bit of an operation, is that our residents, particularly the senior ones, don’t have to drive, beg a ride, or hop on the bus to get to a food pantry. Fueled by increased applications for SNAP benefits a.k.a. food stamps, we wanted to supplement our residents’ food budgets. We don’t pretend to be on the scale of other local food pantries, but we share their mission—provide food to those who need it.

Angela from United Stationers staffed our last pantry.

This week’s Marian Park Food Pantry was on a smaller scale as we opened our food storage closet pantry instead of using the community room. This move cuts down on staff time. We will have three weeks with the pantry operating this way and one big distribution with fresh produce, bread, frozen meat, and whatever perishable items we can snag. Would be nice to get a freezer but we have faith we will find one.

So, if anyone ever doubts what you are able to do, listen to more from Helen Keller, “Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.”

Retro Morning Coffee

2011-10-29T09:30:00.001-05:00

I’ve had the General Electric 12-cup percolator for about a month. After a long-term relationship with Mr. Coffee, I find this coffee maker just right, and I’m enjoying a cup of Eight O’clock Coffee as I write this. Sorry to say, Eight O’clock Coffee rebranded its iconic red and black packaging so I’m not totally retro this morning.

Mr. Coffee never really delivered. Sure, it was coffee, but not good, hearty coffee. I tried Black & Decker and Proctor Silex. No, not right either. On a whim and after remembering Mother’s percolator, I went retro. Of course, if I really wanted to do retro right, I’d use a stovetop percolator like Paula Deen’s 8-cup percolator, about which she’s quoted as saying, “No kitchen would be complete without a nostalgic percolator.”

I have to agree. Happy Saturday!

Halloween Reflections

2011-10-23T10:38:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, the elementary school that's catty-corner from my house set up a big Spiderman moon jump. Cars parked up and down the street, and I assumed there was a fall fair, festival, or Halloween carnival going on.

I thought back to the early 60s when I was in elementary school. The school always had a Halloween carnival. There’d be a cakewalk, fishpond, games, lots of food, and the crowning of the Halloween Princess.

One year, when I was in fourth grade, for some reason I can’t now recall, I decided to give it a shot—a surprising choice for an introvert. The way you got to be princess was by collecting pennies. The girl with the most won. For days before Halloween, I had roamed the streets near the school knocking on doors along with a friend who lived nearby. I lived in the country and had but a few neighbors to pester. Pretty much the only way to make a go at the contest was to solicit town folks. So, right after school let out, we’d drop off our schoolbooks at the friend’s house and head out on our mission.

By Halloween, with my friend’s help, I’d collected so many pennies that I thought for sure I had won. I couldn’t really enjoy any of the games, thinking instead of winning. As the pennies were counted, it soon became evident that I had been beat by a classmate—a popular girl from a wealthy family. I don’t remember what I did exactly. I just remember feeling that it was not fair that I had pounded those streets and knocked on those doors. Rightly or wrongly, I believed my classmate’s daddy had brought her title.

Years later, I enjoy this time of year and look forward to handing out candy to trick-or-treaters. But I also know that the little things in life can stick with us and color who we become and what we choose to do with our lives. I never became the popular girl. My mother worked when many mothers stayed home. My father couldn’t keep a job as a glazier, bouncing in and out of the mental hospital. I became dependable, stuck to the rules, sucked it up, went with the flow, and made a point not to cause trouble.

I wonder today what would have happened if I had won that contest? Would I be different? A risk taker perhaps? Popular? No, I don’t suppose so. Not my style. And then I think, I didn’t turn out so bad and my life has been rich enough without the title of Halloween Princess.

But every Halloween I am reminded of how I felt that day. And I know now that the little things are sometimes just as important as the big things.

Getting the Lay of the Land in Aurora, Illinois

2011-09-04T15:22:00.001-05:00

Summer update: I’ve moved from Batavia to Aurora, Illinois, the second biggest city in Illinois. I’m two blocks away from older son, and family. Grandma Sheila, that’s what Nic calls me, can walk to baby sit these days. I promise not to become the annoying mother-in-law Marie from the TV show, Everybody Loves Raymond, to my daughter-in-law, but there are parallels like the brother who lives at home. And differences. There’s no Frank.

It’s a nice neighborhood near Aurora University. I can:

watch the peewee football players practice after school at Freeman Elementary school across the street;
shop at Prisco’s Fine Foods and have my groceries carried out to my car with nary a tip expected;
go to a Blvd District neighbors’ meeting on neighborhood safety issues on Tuesday night;
visit the Jewel, a Wal-Mart, Aldi’s, public library branch, an old-fashioned hardware store, walkin medical clinic (just in case—I really don’t want to visit this but it’s nice to know it’s there), and more nearby;
eat at restaurants close by like the Roundhouse, an historic downtown Aurora landmark that’s recently shed the Walter Payton name;
take classes at Waubonsee Community College’s new downtown Aurora campus (disclaimer: my son works for the college); and
check out the farmers market every Saturday in warm weather and enjoy local musicians like the lady Patsy Cline singer who was wailing out a mean version of Crazy the day I stopped by for tomatoes.

And speaking of tomatoes, my next door neighbor has generously supplied us with the most amazingly beautiful heirloom tomatoes which certainly proves growing monster tomatoes without fertilizer is not only possible but delicious. She promised to give me tips when spring planting season rolls around.

So, I am exploring and getting the lay of the land. Can you tell I kind of like it here? Should maybe I change the name of this blog?

Pulling the Plug and Unhooking the Cable on Cable TV

2011-07-03T10:50:00.000-05:00

It's official. I canceled the cable. I returned the cable box and remote control yesterday. Comcast is going to charge me more than I thought I would have to pay to keep the Internet and for now the phone, but I figure I will still save nearly $90 a month.

But I did discover I will have an unexpected bonus: not only will I save money but I will also save energy. According to a recent New York Times story,

Those little boxes that usher cable signals and digital recording capacity into televisions have become the single largest electricity drain in many American homes, with some typical home entertainment configurations eating more power than a new refrigerator and even some central air-conditioning systems.

So goodbye dear old cable TV box. This is the first time in over 30 years--so long that I can't even remember when cable TV came into my life--that I will be cable-less. So far, I can honestly say I don't miss it.

More Cutting the Cable TV Cable

2011-06-26T09:07:00.002-05:00

Back in March I contemplated cutting the cable TV cord. My monthly Comcast bill is a ridiculous $178.30 for what Comcast calls its "Triple Play." Internet, land-line phone, and TV. That's it. No HBO or Showtime. Well, after yesterday, I could kick myself for not acting on my instincts earlier.

After three months I finally went out to RadioShack and brought their Indoor Amplified HDTV Antenna. I asked the fellow who helped me if the antenna worked in this area (Batavia, Illinois, is 40 miles from Chicago), and he said, "Well, I haven't seen anyone return it." That was good enough for me. When I got home son plugged it in and in a few minutes, both Scott and I were amazed at the crisp quality we saw on the Sony. We are picking up local TV stations with one notable exception. We can't get CBS. While I watch CBS's Sunday Morning each week, I can learn to live without it for the money I will be saving.

In anticipation of this move, we have supplemented our Netflix with Hulu Plus at $7.99 a month. I haven't decided if I will drop the land-line but am leaning towards that course also. Right now I think this is a positive move since I'm heading out for a walk to Batavia's Riverwalk instead of watching Sunday Morning. More later.

Shame on St. Louis Cardinals

2011-06-14T06:56:00.000-05:00

I just read my daughter-in-law's Facebook post about the difficulty she encountered with getting tickets to a St. Louis Cardinal baseball game in September and I'm mad.

She wrote,

Just bought tickets to a St. Louis Cardinals game in Sept. I am sad to report that even though they built that nice new stadium, there is not handicap accessible seating in the affordable seats. They wanted to charge $77 a person per ticket to be in handicap seating rather than the $24 a person for tix in the upper deck.

She commented further: Thanks for the support. My thought way, do they charge disabled veterans this price?!! This may be one of my new missions. The Chicago White Sox had great accessible seating in the upper deck yesterday for $22 a person.

Dad & Nic at Sunday's White Sox game in affordable seats.

More: Well, Cardinals, someone from that number you gave me just called me back and the final verdict is that NO, there are NOT accessible seats on every level. They were not built into the upper levels of the new park. And, all the $77 accessible seats are full so we would have to pay even more than that per person. Guess I've found a new mission to help kids with disabilities get affordable seats in the MLB.

Natalie has 1247 Facebook friends and is a social media marketing professional. If anyone could stand up for kids who can't stand up themselves, she's the one. I hope she has the time to pursue this mission in between taking care of little Nic and managing her business.

So, I say shame on the St. Louis Cardinals! Sad that you have forgotten the days when a family could afford to go to a baseball game--even a family with a child in a wheelchair.

Home Invaders

2011-03-20T09:31:00.000-05:00

Box elder bugs have invaded my home. You can see from the photo of my house that there’re a lot of the critters. While most expert advice I have read indicates that they are harmless (although one did say they can occasionally bite), they are indeed “pests.” At first I was content to merely brush them away when they crawled on me. But they are persistent, insistent on returning. I wasn’t very successful in trying to smash the offenders and thankfully so. Another expert said they can stink much as a stink bug does.

So far the best approach seems to involve the vacuum cleaner and the toilet. Could be worse. At least I am not battling bedbugs!

Cutting the Cable TV Cable

2011-03-13T11:58:00.000-05:00

I'm investigating cutting the cable TV cord. Right now it seems like a good idea. With Netflix and the Internet as options, I truly think it's time. We watch a lot of programs via Netflix already.

Of course, I'd still like to be able to watch the local news and Tom Skilling's weather forecast on WGN. I have read about the best antennas and have one in mind: the Terk HDTVa Indoor Amplified High-Definition Antenna for Off-Air HDTV Reception. Now, I guess I will have to see what Comcast wants to charge me to continue my Internet service, which I really have no complaints about. My gripe with Comcast has to do with the outrageous price I am paying each month. Stay tuned to see how it goes.

Nicolas Turns Three

2011-02-24T19:40:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, Nicolas (my grandson, for anyone new) turned three. It was a pretty big transition.

Those who know Nic's history (born at 26 weeks, weighed 1 lb. 12 oz, 101 days in the neonatal intensive care unit, heart surgery, brain bleeds, cerebral palsy, etc.) might like to know that this little miracle guy is still thriving and inspiring.

Seems Nic's excitement at the Fox Valley Park District caught the PR manager's eye, prompting a recent feature about Nic in the Aurora Beacon-News.

And now, with that third birthday rolling around, Nic graduates from early intervention to school. Yes, every day, big boy school with new challenges, a new team of teachers and therapists, experts and evaluations, an IEP, wheelchair, walker and Nic.

This grandma has no doubts. Nic will move forward, adapting and compensating while continuing to inspire. Way to go Nic!

Christmas Morning

2010-12-26T12:07:00.002-06:00

Free photo collage personalized with Smilebox

Giving Thanks

2010-11-25T09:30:00.000-06:00

Can it be nearly three months since I last posted? And why today did I decide the time was right to resume writing? I guess I am in a reflective mood, and when I get in those moods, I want to write.

Since the last post in early October I took a new job -- one helping older people get the services they need to remain living independently or in jargon it's called aging in place. I once worked in a senior center, got side-tracked with other matters, and have now returned to a job whose focus is this age group. To me, age is relative. Some of the "youngest" people occupy the oldest bodies.

Through the new job, I am becoming reacquainted with how Thanksgiving (and other holidays) may be observed among older people.

Is there a more iconic portrait of the American celebration of Thanksgiving than Norman Rockwell's Freedom From Want illustration, which was published in the Saturday Evening Post in 1943? A modern version of this scene is still repeated around the country, but I have found older people who prefer to celebrate in their own fashion. Maybe it's a free Thanksgiving meal from a local church, a meal they make themselves, or one delivered by a volunteer.

Some continue to embrace the traditional family celebration, often traveling to be with children or other relatives. Others prefer the comfort of their own homes and say traveling and adjusting to the younger crowd's schedules and ways is too much. Then, there are those for whom holidays are a stark reminder that as we age, we lose loved ones and friends. One of my older relatives tells me she "hates holidays." She humors her closest relations, though, and dutifully goes to the family farm where she grew up to spend holidays with them. I imagine her niece tells her that it wouldn't be the same without her. And it wouldn't.

What Lies Within

2010-09-04T13:48:00.000-05:00

"Go as far as you can see; when you get there, you'll be able to see further." Thomas Carlyle

"What lies behind us & what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." Ralph Waldo Emerson

Nic is making great strides these days. With the help of adaptive pedals, he can ride a trike. Soon, he’ll be getting his own wheelchair. However, unless you or someone you know has a child with the sort of special needs that require wheelchairs, adaptive toys like a trike or bike, walkers, special bath equipment, braces, immobilizers, and a lot of other products, I don’t suppose you can possibly imagine how this complicates child rearing.

Not that they have time to read this, but I just want to acknowledge Nic’s parents who coordinate weekly sessions with physical therapists, meet with social workers, visit specialists, drive to aqua-therapy, travel to doctors at the Mayo Clinic for botox injections, arrange occupational and speech therapy, and call about insurance coverage, all while just trying to be a mom and dad who provide for their family.

On top of all of the above, throw in learning about Nic’s rights under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA). As he approaches his third birthday, the Individualized Education Program, commonly referred to as an IEP, will become important as the blueprint for crafting educational experiences for him. And Nic’s parents will now really hone their advocacy skills.

I wish Nic’s parents and all of those other parents who perform heroically on a daily basis didn’t have to fight so hard for their children. I wish America would move closer to the spirit of these laws. But most of all I wish for Nic a life without limits.

Links I like:

National Dissemination Center for Children with Disabilities

United Cerebral Palsy: Life without limits for people with disabilities
where there is located a link to: The State of Disability in America: An Evaluation of the Disability Experience

Lekotek: The country's central source on toys and play for children with special needs.

Toys R Us Toy Guide for Differently-Abled Kids

Publish Post

Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer

2010-09-03T05:53:00.001-05:00

Well, there's not too much that makes a University of Alabama grad happier than the start of football season -- especially after last season's National Championship. Bama opens against San Jose State this Saturday minus Heisman-winning Mark Ingram, who's out due to a knee injury. It'll be interesting to see how the team adjusts.

Our family is thinking about watching the game with other Crimson Tide fans at the suburban gamewatch location in Downers Grove at a sports bar called Another Round. Wonder what Nicolas would think of multiple screaming Bama fans?

Clearing the Dust

2010-08-28T09:00:00.000-05:00

Blow the dust off the clock. Your watches are behind the times. Throw open the heavy curtains which are so dear to you -- you do not even suspect that the day has already dawned outside. Alexander Solzehnitsyn

There’s a thick layer of dust over nearly every surface in my home. While more pressing matters have captured my attention of late, today I suddenly realized that I’m tired of dust. Today is going to be the day I attack the dust. Well, first I’m distracted a bit by this post, which is probably the lamest I’ve written in a while.

However, I suppose the dust is a metaphor – a parable in the making.

While there are always pressing matters and I am prone to distraction, there are times when the dust must be cleared before the shine can be revealed.

And like the lyrics from Jerome Kern's Pick Yourself Up, which was composed for the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie Swing Time (1936),

Nothing’s impossible I have found,
For when my chin is on the ground,
I pick myself up,
Dust myself off,
Start all over again.

Don’t lose your confidence if you slip,
Be grateful for a pleasant trip,
And pick yourself up,
Dust yourself off,
Start all over again.

Happy Saturday Dear Gentle Friends.

Place Matters: Looking for Mitford

2010-08-21T07:38:00.013-05:00

The Amazon.com review pretty much hit the nail on the head:

Mix one part All Creatures Great and Small with two parts Lake Wobegon, sprinkle a little Anne of Green Gables and get: Mitford, the pinnacle of provincial life, where homespun wisdom, guarded tradition, and principled faith are the precepts of good living.

These days Jan Karon’s At Home in Mitford is on my car’s CD player each morning as I drive to work. I long for a place like Mitford. Small town. Southern. People care about each other. Know about each other. Not too much drama. Peaceful.

Oh well, this is fiction and I am only on the first book of the series. We will see if I stick with it beyond the first. But, I can see why it captured my attention as I explore my longing for what I call a sense of place – a place where I belong.

The National Trust for Historic Preservation offers a straightforward approach, calling sense of place:

Those things that add up to a feeling that a community is a special place, distinct from anywhere else.

In writing the blog this morning, I discovered that The National Trust for Historic Preservation has a This Place Matters Community Challenge now through Sept. 15 where you can pick a community and vote to support the community. The winner gets $25,000.

I am throwing my support behind Orion, Illinois and its attempt to save Main Street. The folks of Orion say:

Our small community of Orion is "Rural America at its Finest!" Volunteers with Main Street Orion work tirelessly to avoid the fate suffered by other surrounding communities empty storefronts, shuttered homes, devalued properties, crumbling infrastructure, and shrinking population. Can it happen in Orion, too? Yes, and it has, to some extent.

The way the challenge works is communities "rally as many people around the grassroots issues of preservation in our communities as possible. This means that unlike a traditional voting-contest, participants are allowed to align themselves with one organization, one time throughout the Challenge and recruit as many people as possible to do the same."

Here's how to help Orion. Join me and see if we can help them out. After all, it's the neighborly thing to do.

And I’ll let you know when I get to my Mitford.

Happy Saturday!

PS Here is a Flickr Slideshow about the project

Mr. Obama and the Ceremonial Gulf Coast Vacation

2010-08-15T11:30:00.000-05:00

Don’t get me wrong. I applaud President Obama’s mini-vacation trip to Panama City Beach, Florida, USA. But when I read, according to the New York Times, that the trip was scheduled to last a mere 27 hours and that after a quick three-day fundraising trip, the First Family would be taking a 10-day vacation on Martha’s Vineyard in Massachusetts, I wondered, “what if?”

What if the Obama family had decided to stay in Florida longer? Wouldn’t that have really set the tone for Gulf Coast tourism recovery?

Y’all regulars know I’m a Yellow-Dog Democrat with Alabama roots, but I am looking for President Obama to step up to the plate in a grander way. Yes, it is a beginning, but as they say in the South, “It’s a day late and a dollar short.” Hey, I even wondered why didn’t Mr. Obama’s Press Secretary Bobby Gibbs, a native of Auburn, Alabama, tell the planners that surely they could have come up with a day or two more activities besides miniature golf and a dip in the water? Well, what do I know about how Washington operates? Anyway, Gibbs seems a little on the outs right now. But I’ll betcha he visited PC when he was growing up.

Of course, I am a bit prejudiced when it comes to the Panhandle since that’s where my family took vacations back when you could run barefoot out of your beachside motel room on to the prettiest, white sandy beaches. Maybe the Redneck Riviera pales in comparison to the French Riviera. Since I’ve never been there, can’t say for sure. But I sure enough love this area.

I do know that there’re enough activities to fill a few more hours than 27. Just take PC alone. The Obamas could have boated over to the remote Shell Island (watching out for sunburn), gone go-carting, golfed for real, and shopped the beach-front souvenir shops.

Later, they could have motorcaded over to Destin, self-dubbed the “World’s Luckiest Fishing Village,” and President Obama could have gone deep-sea fishing while Mrs. Obama and Sasha hit Silver Sands Factory Stores outlet mall, whose tagline is “the nation’s largest designer outlet center.” Since this was family time, they would have had to skip the bar scene, which has duly earned its reputation as a spring break mecca.

When you are president, you just naturally can’t do anything right it seems. What’s that expression? Some attribute it to Abraham Lincoln and others to John Lydgate. “You can please some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.”

Happy Sunday!

This Morning I Cried

2010-06-17T07:15:00.000-05:00

GULF SHORES, Ala. – Dolphins and sharks are showing up in surprisingly shallow water just off the Florida coast. Mullets, crabs, rays and small fish congregate by the thousands off an Alabama pier. Birds covered in oil are crawling deep into marshes, never to be seen again.

I cried when I read the beginning to the Associated Press story. I don't what else I can say, but I am deeply saddened to see this happening to the region I love. My memories are intact but the hurt I feel right now for the animals and people suffering the insult inflicted by the BP oil spill simply overrides them.

artwork by Joan Daugherty

Wile E Coyote

2010-06-12T07:24:00.003-05:00

Greetings from Batavia, Illinois, and Happy Saturday! Son Scott is back at Fermilab with his summer job in the computing division. He loves the people at Fermi and says, "It's like working at the United Nations." However, I think the actual environment at this massive national laboratory funded by the Office of Science of the U.S. Department of Energy captures his attention just as often as interacting with Russians, Germans, and people from all over the world. The 6,800-acre Fermilab site contains wetlands, woodlands, grasslands and more than 1,100 acres of reconstructed tall-grass prairie. And, a cute coyote pup!

photo from June 11 Fermilab Today credited thus: "PPD's Terry Tope spotted a coyote pup in the woods on Pine Street on June 5."

In the area and want to visit:
Fermilab's site is open to the public every day of the week from 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. from mid-October to mid-April and from 8:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m. when daylight hours are longer. Fermilab visitors are allowed to visit two buildings on their own: the first and ground floor of Wilson Hall and the Lederman Science Center, which is open Monday-Friday 8:30 a.m. - 4:30 p.m. and on Saturday from 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. A map of Fermilab's Public Areas is available online.

A Fine Day in Chicago

2010-05-30T10:49:00.009-05:00

There’s a vacation. And then there’s a staycation. I think we took a daycation yesterday. Scott and I drove into Chicago for the day. Just a little outing, but I’m always energized by a visit. We headed to the Art Institute, one of my favorite spots in the whole of Chicagoland.

I’ve driven enough in Chicago to no longer be too anxious, and I accept that paying $25 to park the car comes with the territory. So, once we parked in the Millennium garage, headed over to our destination, and plopped down 30 more bucks, we were ready to see some art.

We had in mind what we wanted to see and focused on that without being distracted by all manner of “art.” The quotes are because for the life of me I can’t appreciate some contemporary art. Maybe if someone could explain it to me, I’d say, “Yes, I see.” But I don’t. And I’m fine with liking what I like.

We spent the most time viewing the museum’s Impressionism and Post-Impressionism collection. Monet, Renoir, Toulouse-Lautrec — whose famous paintings I never tire of visiting. The contemporary section held less interest, and I readily agreed with Scott that an immense canvas with charcoal and crayon doodling looked suspiciously like the artist might have been a preschooler. Picasso and a quick walk through the ancient Greek and Roman section of the Institute made up for our disappointment. An hour and a half in all. Just enough culture for the day.

With the Blackhawks in the Stanley Cup playoffs, this day the whole city seemed awash with Blackhawk banners and t-shirts. Even the stately Art Institute lions proclaimed their support with giant black hockey helmets.

As Scott and I exited the Art Institute, a wedding party scurried across the street in front of us.

Craning our necks in admiration of buildings shooting upwards, we made our way amongst the growing throng of tourists and stopped at Millennium Park just long enough to snap a photo of Scott with the Bean (Cloud Gate) in the background.

As we neared the Chicago River, we got behind a group of ladies carrying neon green The Oprah Store shopping bags. We skipped the architecture boat trip today. It’s a lovely, albeit expensive way to see Chicago’s beautiful buildings. And on such a perfect pre-summer day, I do admit it would have been fun to take a ride on the double-decker tour buses parked near the bridge.

However, today was fine to walk, and soon we were at our little café just off Michigan. After a filling lunch of pasta, we lingered a bit before making our way back to the car, encountering two more wedding parties in Millennium Park.

Everything we saw and did today is why I love Chicago.

PHOTOS
TOP: Art Institute lions love to sport seasonal and relevant attire; Georgia O'Keeffe's Sky Above Clouds IV 1965. O'Keeffe was once a student at The Art Institute; first of three wedding parties; Streetside view of the Bean; Chicago's First Lady loading up for river tour.

Waiting Game Plays Out in Gulf Oil Spill

2010-05-04T06:31:00.001-05:00

I hate to think about the impact of the oil making its way to Gulf shores as I listen to the news. Some of my earliest memories include running out of a motel room right onto a bright white beach. Those were the days before the condos came to the Redneck Riviera. Now, those mom-and-pop motels of my childhood where our family stayed when we went to the beach are nearly gone.

Tough environmental lessons are learned when places you love are threatened. Will the Alabama-Florida Panhandle beaches escape? Today, Gulf Shores, Destin, Fort Walton Beach, and Panama City Beach, you are all on my mind. Maybe I can return one day to those beautiful beaches I remember so well. I hate to think not.

Can Email Be Far Behind

2010-05-01T07:42:00.000-05:00

One of my colleagues at work and I had a friendly, ongoing difference of opinion. I said, “Web site,” and she said, “website.” Every time we’d edit work for each other, I would correct her “website” and she would mark my “Web site.” And I would say, “I follow the Associated Press Stylebook (dubbed the Journalist's 'Bible').” To which she’d reply, “It’s website.”

Well, in case you are not a language nerd (credit Washington Post writer Rob Pegoraro with that term), you might have missed the hoopla over the AP’s decision a couple of weeks ago to change to “website.” Faster Forward writer Pegoraro wrote, “My instinctive reaction is to stick with traditional practice, but I'm not completely sure what to think.”

A couple of days after I read the news about the switch, I printed out a post about the change and left a copy on my colleague’s desk with a note: “I guess I’ll be changing to website.” However, I didn’t say she was right. Or that I liked it.

Poynter has a good post on the topic.

National Library Week

2010-04-17T07:33:00.001-05:00

“Batavia in some ways looks like a town that time has left alone.”
Mayor Jeffrey D. Schielke

Whether it’s a quiet haven for reflection or story time for kids, Batavia Public Library (my current home-town library) is a warm and inviting example of what a public library should be. Grab a cup of coffee on the way in, find a comfy club chair and settle in for an hour of reading.

Libraries have changed over the years with technology driving libraries to provide banks of computers nestled among the books. Yet, the library still has a special hold on my heart.

Growing up in Prattville, Alabama, I’d spend Saturday mornings at the library. I hung out there so much that eventually the two ancient white-haired lady librarians put me to work shelving. It’s amazing how much a curious junior high kid can find out about sex education from medical reference books.

I loved the dusty smell of old magazines like Time, Saturday Evening Post, and Life. They provided me a visual history of the first half of the 20th Century, which I think is largely responsible for my love of history. Given the liberty to poke around at will, I delved into fiction and non-fiction.

Today, we can hold a iPad or Kindle, text a message on our phones, and from our computers download all manner of information. But there’s still just no better place to hang out than the library.

German Dutch Baby Pancakes

2010-03-27T12:10:00.008-05:00

This morning is a quiet one. After a week with mom, College Boy returned last evening via Greyhound bus to Drury University. I do not recommend travel by bus, at least not Greyhound. When I was a college student myself eons ago, I once made the 90-mile-trip home from the University of Alabama to Prattville on a rickety old Trailways bus. Let’s say the trip motivated me to find another way home. I think I can safely say the same for CB, who definitely picked up a couple of stories to write about. Some things never change.

CB is good company though, and I do miss him already. We watched a couple of movies, Crazy Heart (recommended with a caveat or two: It reminds me of Robert Duvall’s 1983 Tender Mercies — whose plot summary according to IMDb is: “Alcoholic former country singer Mac Sledge makes friends with a young widow and her son. The friendship enables him to find inspiration to resume his career.” Well, Duvall won an Oscar in 1984, and so did Jeff Bridges this year, and who I am to question reusing plot lines if it works. But I did ask myself what the heck moved a young thing like Maggie Gyllenhaal to shack up with a broken-down man like Bad Blake?). CB and I also watched Blind Side, and being from the South and loving football, how could we not like this one?

One night, elder son made us homemade pasta and sauce (Bolognese with pappardelle), and another night, I barbecued (a.k.a. burned up) some chicken slathered with the remaining Montgomery Inn barbecue sauce I was saving for a special occasion. The chicken was accompanied by my potato salad, which CB had requested.

On my morning off, CB and I went over to our favorite Batavia breakfast spot, Lume’s, and indulged in a Dutch Baby German pancake. If you have never had one, I recommend you try them. In these parts they are rather expensive, and I thought I’d give making them at home a try. And thus, I discovered, they are amazingly easy to make and right tasty too.

• Here’s my version with slight modifications to the recipe found at How to Make German Pancakes—Dutch Babies. I used the smaller version, which the author says serves 2 to 4. First revision: I ate the whole thing but would say it would serve 2 non-gluttonous individuals quite well.
• The eggs and milk were just out of the refrigerator. I am an impatient sort.
• Forget the business about bread flour as opposed to all-purpose flour. I can’t imagine my Dutch Baby any higher.
• I used more vanilla and skipped the cinnamon and added about a quarter cup of sugar and 2 tablespoons of butter instead of 7 teaspoons, which might be the equivalent but I didn’t want to calculate differences in tablespoons and teaspoons.
• I used a well-seasoned 8-inch cast-iron skillet and would recommend a 10-inch instead simply for the reason that instead of a quarter-inch bottom, I ended up with a half-inch depth. Not bad—just might have been a tad better if it had been thinner. Be sure to follow the recipe as to getting your oven and skillet hot before adding the butter (probably ought to melt it) and then the batter. My Baby cooked in approximately 15 minutes. So, I would suggest you check on your pancake prior to 20 minutes just to be on the safe side.

Well, you can see from the photos the Baby turned out pretty pouffy. After sifting confectioner’s sugar over the Baby, I served it with lemon slices and syrup. Somehow I felt the Baby deserved an upgrade from Hungry Jack Lite syrup, but that was all I had in the house.

Happy Saturday!

I Wonder

2010-03-07T13:40:00.006-06:00

Nothing happens until something moves.
— Albert Einstein

Elder son asked if I had written anything on the blog lately. I said, “No.” And I started to wonder why. Certainly, I’m never short of something to say. However, I am a bit tired these days. Tired of politics for sure, shaking my head at the seemingly impossible impasse at which our two political parties here in the U.S. find themselves. I don’t recall feeling so discouraged in quite a while.

I could rail on the need to address the greater good but find I am fighting an urge to turn inward and tend to my own good.

Remember in the 80s when Looking Out for #1 topped the New York Times best-seller list? I am, of course, dating myself, but I have grown tired of self-help books like Robert Ringer’s as well as the “wisdom” dispensed by Oprah Winfrey. Life’s complicated and if I’m going to figure it out, I’d just as soon trust my own instincts rather than theirs.

I did finally get back to the gym this weekend after letting the excuse of a bad cold sideline me. I’m in better spirits. As I walked at a goodly clip goin’ nowhere (listening to my favorite Chris Isaak CD) on the treadmill, three posters on the weathered brick wall in front of me caught my eye. One said, “Possibilities,” another “Opportunities,” and the final “Action.”

That about sums it up as best as I can see. Life is about action. When we succumb to inaction for whatever reason, I believe we are merely walking through life zombie-like. I think that it’s a worthy goal to be that person of action. It becomes #4 on my list of resolutions.

Split Infinitives and New Year's Resolutions

2010-01-02T13:26:00.005-06:00

Never much for New Year’s resolutions, I have nonetheless resolved the following:

1. I will try to live in the now and not the past nor the future.
What is this day like? Can I enjoy it and not worry about the number of days or years that I may have left? Can I banish the ‘what ifs’? What if the car breaks down (oh, I know it will eventually—it’s got quite a few miles on it just like its owner)? What if I get sick, or slip and fall, or lose my job, or become homeless, living out of the car with quite a few miles on it? What will I do now that I am living alone for the first time ever—just yesterday College Boy left for a new college a day’s drive away? What will be my passion? Should I return to school? Should I join a group to stave off loneliness? If I do, what kind of people should I surround myself with?

Can I let go of past hurts? Can I hold onto pleasant memories without wishing to relive them? Can I go forward al a Star Trek with a personal “five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before”?

We shall see. Perhaps, yes, with these fears and old habits verbalized.

2. I will finish reading more books, and subscribe to some magazines and the newspaper.
This is doable. I already read a lot, but since chemo, my concentration has been off and sticking with a book seems like an impossible chore. How many books I have started and put aside! That can change. I am nearly finished reading a book now. Strangely, for a person who majored in journalism, I have fallen away from reading magazines and the daily paper. What a shame! TV is a poor substitute. I resolve to change.

3. I will move forward with creative pursuits.
This is the one resolution I am most excited by, but more on this later.

Three resolutions, about the right number I think. I have a couple of others but they are the rather common ones that we all seem to share and then quickly toss aside. You know—lose weight, eat right, exercise, save money.

Happy New Year! May the coming days be filled with good health, good times, growth, and kindnesses both given and received.

Krystyna

2009-12-25T12:56:00.003-06:00

I had seen her only once before—the day when she came into the center to pick up birthday boxes for her two grandchildren and to ask if we could help the family for Christmas. That day I learned a bit about her. The boys’ mother, Krystyna’s daughter, died this year from a brain tumor. Krystyna, a woman near my age, was faced with raising the two young children and their older sister. With a thick Polish accent, she wondered aloud why some in her apartment building always seemed to get the help they needed but not her. “It’s not fair,” she said.

“We can put your name on our waiting list for Christmas help,” I told her, adding, “if we can help, we will call you.” I really wanted to help her. Every time I start identifying like this, I find I am pulled deeper into lives than is wise. By that, I mean I am haunted by a life that is not mine but that I imagine very well could be. That’s primarily the reason I left a social services job at the county a few years ago.

Since that time,I have learned to keep an open heart without becoming too involved. Krystyna was my test. Maybe, it was the grandmother thing. I don’t know.

So, as the time neared to start contacting the waiting list families, I was happy that our donors had been generous and we had plenty of toys and gifts left to give the waiting list families.

Krystyna showed up the first day. I saw her sitting off to the side. “Krystyna,” I called out to her, “is someone helping you?” “They say my name isn’t on the list,” she said. “Let me check,” I replied. As I flipped through the pages of names, I spotted hers. “There it is,” I said. “It’s okay,” I said, “I know Krystyna.”

When she had big bags of gifts at her feet, we hugged. Krystyna told me how the children had been baptized recently. “The priest found godparents for them,” adding with obvious pride, “a deacon!” I know little about their lives. I know she struggles. I know I would do the same if I were in her place. She and I share that—maybe little else—the grandmother thing. Life’s lessons always come at a price. And while I think of Krystyna’s struggles, I know it is best to focus on my own, knowing I can still keep my heart open for the time when the next “Krystyna” comes along.

Merry Christmas!

Price-less Gifts

2009-12-13T09:23:00.003-06:00

Gifts of remembrance are to quote MasterCard’s ubiquitous tagline, “Priceless.”

When you remember a person’s name or personal preferences, it can make his or her day, thereby becoming a gift completely price less.

The young clerk at the bakery near my work gives me a gift of remembrance each time I stop in. By the time my hand is on the shop door, she is reaching for a chocolate-iced cake donut. “Maybe I will try a muffin one day,” I say, as she rings up the purchase—86 cents. I hand her a dollar bill and toss the 14 cents in change into the plastic tip cup. Yes, I know chocolate-iced cake donuts are not on my South Beach Diet, but how can I resist when I am thus rewarded?

And I am again rewarded when at work I recall a donor’s name as she or he brings in a bag of gifts this busy season. Tom brought in bag of basketballs last Christmas for the kids in our programs, and this year I happened to be at the front desk when he returned with this year’s donation: 10 basketballs. “You must have gotten quite a deal again,” I said as Tom smiled broadly.

My boss says we all wear a big invisible sign around our necks that says, “I want to be recognized.”

I am beginning to understand just what she means.

Awesome Crimson Tide Christmas Present

2009-12-12T08:25:00.004-06:00

Work with me here folks. I am supposed to be doing my annual Christmas Countdown and while one of my readers suggested I post a photo of the Christmas tree when I got it up, I'd rather post about a non-Christmas subject--football. Well, except I think I have found a way to tie the two together.

Here goes. I really was thinking about Christmas and visited some Web sites selling University of Alabama merchandise looking for ideas for gifts. No hints here, but I think the intended recipients are clueless since they don't usually read the blog.

But lo and behold, I discovered a new product which I think is worthy of comment. You see it pictured here. No intended gift recipient has a satellite dish, but I thought, "How neat!" Now you can show your team spirit and cover that boring dish with the Dishrag. I really liked the name too.

I will have some more Christmas posts--so many I am practically bursting at the seams. Only, I am so crazy-busy at work (I am one of Santa's Elves, after all), that it's hard to find time to write.

Meanwhile, Happy Shopping dear gentle readers.

Tide Swamps Florida

2009-12-06T08:07:00.003-06:00

Pardon my brief deviation from the Christmas theme this morning, but in a way the University of Alabama’s rout of #1 Florida last night is an early Christmas present for the Tide Nation. Coach Nick Sabin coached like those with the big bucks hoped he would, and the players played with heart and desire. Doesn’t get better than this with college football. As much as I respect Florida’s quarterback Tim Tebow, his faith in God, and his talent, I just wanted to say to him, “Tim, there’s no crying in football.”

All is well—least football-wise. The New York Times summed up my thoughts: “In football-crazed Alabama, it will mark a return to order in the football universe.” Happy Sunday!

Sheila’s Christmas Countdown

2009-12-05T05:57:00.009-06:00

I’ve written so many Christmas-related posts since I started blogging that I really am taxed to come up with something new. In my first Christmas post back on Nov. 24, 2006, I wrote about my favorite Christmas book. I won’t repeat what I said there except to say, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever is still the best ever.

However, this year I will first be reading a recent book and invite you to read along--an on-line book discussion group if you will. The New York Times story on “29 Gifts: How a Month of Giving Can Change Your Life” (Da Capo Press) by Cami Walker focuses on the notion that generosity improves your health.

Each day, I see the good side of humankind in my job at a small, grassroots not-for-profit organization, the Humanitarian Service Project. If you want to see the other side, watch the news. It’s all there.

For me, though, I know the power of goodwill and generosity firsthand. My attention was immediately captured when I read the story about Walker's book, and a stop by the bookstore will be on my list of errands today. That, and a stop by the Christmas tree lot, which is a departure from last year when my little apartment had no Christmas tree. For the first time since 1971, I did not decorate a tree. Freshly single after 36 Christmases, the ritual was more than I could handle. However, as it is with most challenges, you adjust.

Despite a crazy-busy work schedule filled with long days (our Christmas Offering is in its own countdown to Christmas), I need a Christmas tree this year. If nothing else, I need to smell the fresh scent of evergreen when I wake up. I need a reminder that the promise of Christmas symbolized by the tree can still be in my heart.

Happy Saturday!

Making it Better

2009-11-21T08:28:00.007-06:00

First, I wanted to share one little thing that happened on my way to work the other day. Well, I shouldn't be stopping by Dunkin Donuts; but when I went through the drive-thru lane and after ordering a coffee and blueberry muffin, I got a surprise. I pulled up to the window to pay and the cashier said, “You don't owe me anything. The person ahead of you paid for yours.” The lady in the red SUV was long gone. Now, that has never happened to me. I had a big smile on my face though, and it made me think about what a better world we would have if we had more like the lady in the red SUV.

And then when I opened the e-mail this morning from Idealist, my earlier experience took on a greater meaning.

What is proposed (the short version) is:

In one sentence: It’s time to build a global network that will serve and support all those people who want to make the world a better place, online and in person.

The key to doing this is to bypass all those specific issues that can overwhelm and divide us, and instead focus on three challenges that affect all of us:

1. There is often a big gap between our good intentions and our actions.
2. Our problems are connected, but we are not.
3. The world is full of good ideas that don't spread quickly enough.

What we need, then, is a network, a movement, an ecosystem that will:

* Make it easier for people and organizations to move from intentions to action.
* Connect people, organizations, and resources in every possible way.
* Find good ideas wherever they are, and distribute them as widely as possible.

If we can do this, and do it well, most of our local and global challenges will be easier to deal with.

So, I have signed up. I need a mission. Maybe this is it. Maybe we could stop saying, "That's a shame. It shouldn't be that way." Maybe, boldly, we could actually make it better.

Happy Saturday from the Land of Lincoln my cyber-friends.

Who You Gonna Believe

2009-11-14T11:58:00.003-06:00

Running in to the Jewel for a few random items like whole milk for Nicolas (he’s visiting later today while his mom and dad attend a wedding in Chicago), I took a few moments to glance at the tabloids lining the checkout lane. Wow, I am worried. According to the Globe, President Obama has lung cancer. Republican right-winger Sarah Palin might ought to stay closer to home, because one tab reports her husband is cheating on her. Or did I get that wrong, and she cheated on him?

Ever since the National Enquirer got it right when it broke news of John Edwards’ affair, I look at these salacious pubs with a different eye. Could they be right? Anyway, they make fodder for speculation and help pass the time in line. Happy Saturday!

21 Years

2009-10-24T15:07:00.005-05:00

Today is Scott’s 21st birthday. I struggled to find an appropriate card at the Jewel last night. Hallmark, American Greetings, and the like seem a lazy way to recognize a milestone birthday. I understand, however, that when we are rushed and tired, it is easier to let card wordsmiths say it. I will give him the purchased card with cash tucked inside. He can go buy something that will soon be forgotten, but I hope he remembers one thing—his mother loves him. Always.

Photo--Uncle Scott introduces Nicolas to video games. Well, Nicolas is just happy playing with the controller.

Be Well

2009-10-24T14:27:00.006-05:00

It is October, and October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Panera Bread brings out the Pink Ribbon bagels, and advertising reminds us all of what many would sooner forget. However, I noticed today, someone bought some of my cards over on CafePress. Thank you to all who like my designs enough to plunk down some cash. I wish you or those you love the best. As one of the volunteers at the Montgomery Cancer Center always said, “Be Well.”

Seasons Come and Go

2009-10-16T06:09:00.024-05:00

Stacked high. Waiting for me to figure out what goes and what stays and where to put it all.

A pile of summer clothes. Books brought out of the closet. You can tell a lot about the books a person surrounds herself with. I don’t have a lot of books now, and so the ones I took when the marriage dissolved have special significance. A slim volume of One Hundred and One Famous Poems inscribed in Mother’s handwriting, “To my dear daughter with love. Mom. Xmas 1969”--Tennyson, Whitman, Keats, Frost, and Kipling, whose “If” is a favorite of mine, are the standards I grew up with.

“If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; . . .
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same. . . .

Scraps of paper with ideas for art projects I’ll probably never have time to get to. Fabric. My addiction. Lots of that. Clothes waiting for me to iron them. Who am I kidding?

My place is small. The one bigger closet is about half-filled with my clothes. Art supplies take up nearly the other half, competing with quilts, Christmas decorations I didn’t even put up last year, and a box of photos. You get the picture. Something has got to go.

I’d rather get rid of the clothes than the art supplies. Who knows, I might find a way to have my own studio. Hey, I am old, but I still dream.

Today, I purge. Farewell striped pink blouse. What was I thinking! Socks, I can never wear all of you. Cute black and white Keds, you guys hurt my feet. I will hang on to Mother’s Day cards long ago given and 21-year-old ‘Happy Mother’s Coupons,’ which certify son Jeff will clean the bathroom and make his bed. I’ll even keep another 21-year old artifact: an anniversary card emblazoned with “The Marriage that Would Not Die.”

Triumph and Disaster aside, the lesson here is to make room and time for what really matters in my life and a reminder of what was once upon a time.

The world is but a canvas to the imagination.

2009-10-10T10:59:00.011-05:00

There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it’s going to be a butterfly. Buckminster Fuller

Most grants and funding made to social service agencies addresses basic human needs. The not-for-profit I work for, the Humanitarian Service Project, does that too with our summer Feed the Kids Project. At Christmas time, we help families with two to three weeks of food and gifts for all of the children. And year-round our Senior Citizen Project delivers a monthly food package to needy seniors in our area.

But there is more to life than basic needs. Our Children’s Birthday Project, is described on The Common Grant Application as “an early intervention program for children ages 3-12, to bring joy and self-worth to poverty-level children on their special day at an age while they were still impressionable but before they were subject to intense peer pressure and the appeal of negative influences such as gangs.”

That’s a mouthful but what it boils down to is we think even poor kids should know their birthdays are worth celebrating!

So, we collect new toys and books, school supplies, and stuffed animals. Every box also includes what we call a party-in-a-box with all the makings of a fun birthday celebration like cake mix, frosting, paper plates, streamers, and party favors.

Now, we are hoping to include an arts and crafts kit in the birthday boxes if our donors support the idea. Arts and crafts kits with drawing and painting supplies of all kinds, craft supplies—you name it. We see it as a creative and positive opportunity to enhance the lives of our program’s children. With schools cutting back on funding for art education, I think many kids grow up failing to discover their innate creativity. And poor families just scraping by surely don’t have money left over to spend on art supplies.

All week I have been caught up with this notion. I have a growing list of ideas with over 30 suggestions so far. If any of my readers know of organizations or manufacturers who might be able to help as we get this underway, please let me know. We are a small grassroots organization, highly regarded, but also with a small staff.

I am excited about the possibility. Here is the list I have come up with so far. Wonder what I have forgotten?

Where Is We in We the People?

2009-10-03T08:12:00.007-05:00

Utterly ridiculous! Unpatriotic! For shame you Republicans who applauded America’s failed bid to host the 2016 Summer Games as a personal failure for President Obama. When the International Olympic Committee turned down Chicago’s proposal yesterday, gleeful opponents of Obama cheered. Rush Limbaugh called the U.S. delegation “Ego-obsessed imbeciles on parade representing the United States. Oprah is now eating Denmark.” This is strange, and if Democrats did it, Fox News (right-wingers for those of you outside the U.S.) commentators would be all over it like white on rice.

That hacks me off. This is still America. Where is your national pride? This was not about Obama. This was an American city trying to capture an important world event. However, this time it was not our turn. South America has never had a chance. For that reason and some apparent Olympic committee bad blood, more than Obama failing, the International Olympic Committee said no thanks to Chicago. It’s a blow to the City of Big Shoulders, but I believe when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Charles Lane over at the Washington Post said

The bid for a Chicago Olympics was to put a large American city, and probably the state and federal governments as well, deeply into hock constructing velodromes and the like, in return for the thrill of watching a bunch of steroid consumers try to break ephemeral world records in obscure sports.

Some say President Obama was ill-advised to put his prestige, and that of his country, at risk in a losing effort, especially when he has so many other important issues to worry about. Actually, it was a mistake, win or lose.

Yup. President Obama did the right thing as did President Bush in supporting Chicago’s bid. On hindsight, it is for the best that we lost. Chicago can now turn full attention to more pressing problems like finding a way to keep teenagers from killing each other.

However, a recent column by Thomas Friedman of the New York Times lays out a more disturbing concern interconnected to the lost Olympic bid. In Where Did ‘We’ Go?, Friedman writes about the poisonous political climate in Israel in 1995 that surrounded Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin before he was assassinated.

Friedman writes:

Others have already remarked on this analogy, but I want to add my voice because the parallels to Israel then and America today turn my stomach: I have no problem with any of the substantive criticism of President Obama from the right or left. But something very dangerous is happening. Criticism from the far right has begun tipping over into delegitimation and creating the same kind of climate here that existed in Israel on the eve of the Rabin assassination. . . .

Even if you are not worried that someone might draw from these vitriolic attacks a license to try to hurt the president, you have to be worried about what is happening to American politics more broadly.

Our leaders, even the president, can no longer utter the word “we” with a straight face. There is no more “we” in American politics at a time when “we” have these huge problems — the deficit, the recession, health care, climate change and wars in Iraq and Afghanistan — that “we” can only manage, let alone fix, if there is a collective “we” at work.

I thought Obama might be the leader to bring back the ‘We’ in “We the People of the United States . . .” from the U. S. Constitution. Now, I question, can any one?

Camping Renewal

2009-09-26T06:10:00.007-05:00

Last weekend was too perfect for these parts. The cornfields stretched for miles, but with some roll to the countryside, it wasn’t a boring drive to Oregon. No, not THAT Oregon. Illinois has a little town called Oregon and that’s where my drive took me.

Past rustic red barns and horse farms, past a make-shift sign pointing to a blessing of the harvest, past so many road kill raccoons I have to make mention. Solitary but not alone, a two-lane road with so many motorcyclists you’d think they were all going to some big convention. I think, however, they just knew this weekend was one of the few left for their passion until spring.

As each cyclist passed another, they extended their left arms downward. Not being clued in to motorcycle culture, I imagine this some kind of “secret handshake,” akin to the cub scout or boy scout handshake.

On hindsight, this is an appropriate segue since scouts camp a lot and that’s where I was heading. Years ago when my son Jeff was a cub scout, I somehow got snookered into becoming a den mother. Of course trying to wrangle eight elementary-age boys into after-school crafts projects is like herding cats. Bless my friend Molly’s heart, she knew better and passed on the opportunity to lead. Her son Christian, my son, and the co-leader’s son, ring-led the other boys into all kinds of harmless mischief. I had fun but not at the time. Does that make sense at all?

Eventually, Jeff graduated cub scouts and moved onto boy scouts and his dad took over as a leader. At least on my watch, the boys didn’t try to burn down the forest on a camping trip. The boy who a attempted that was, as they say, “troubled.”

So, when Jeff felt it was time to introduce camping to Natalie and little Nicolas, I was at first reluctant. Fifty-seven year old bones don’t like sleeping on the ground in a tent. Ever the boy scout, Jeff offered up an AeroBed, clinching the trip for me. The other appeal, besides being outside on a lovely fall weekend with people I love, was Jeff’s cooking.

By the time I pulled into the crowded campground at Lowden State Park, one former Governor Rod Blagojevich closed last year due to budget troubles, Jeff and Natalie had already set up camp. Sweet! Minor items forgotten and a burnt apple cobbler in a new Lodge Dutch oven were our biggest issues. Small price to pay for stars over our heads, a roaring campfire, S’mores, great steaks, campers’ breakfast, and being with people I love.

America’s Most Stressful Cities and One That’s Not

2009-09-08T06:41:00.004-05:00

Forbes ranks America’s most stressful cities. I’ve lived in several cities on the list: Houston, Cincinnati, St. Louis, and was born in one—Washington D.C. However, I am presently located in Chicagoland—Chicago being the most stressful of all. I can agree that driving on the expressways when necessary is stressful. I try to take Metra when I go into the city. Paying through the nose to park a car only adds insult to injury.

While I love all that Chicago has to offer after you get there, I have settled in the far west hinderlands of Chicagoland. Batavia to be specific, which is ironically the only Illinois city to make Money Magazine’s list of America’s best small towns. Ranked at number 56, my little slice of Chicagoland is a stark contrast to the big-city buzz.

Here in Batavia, the biggest thing going on a Friday night is the local Batavia High School Bulldogs game—a real Friday Nights Lights just down the street from me. Life here is simpler—farmers market on Saturday, volunteer fair at the library, arts shows, bikers up the wazoo (we are on the bike trail along the Fox River). My bank, cleaners, insurance agent, hair salon, favorite coffee shop, drugstore, and the library are all within a mile or walking distance of my place. That cuts down on stress for sure. Batavia calls itself the City of Energy and the local landscape is dotted with windmills, an omage to its once booming windmill manufacturing status.

So, let Oprah Winfrey celebrate Chicago this week as well as celebrate her 24th year in TV with what the Chicago media has dubbed Oprahpalooza as she takes over three blocks of Michigan Avenue for her show, throwing even more stress onto the shoulders of commuters. It’s okay. This is the City of Big Shoulders afterall, but I think I’ll stick to my little corner of the world.

Including Samuel (and Nicolas)

2009-09-07T08:00:00.013-05:00

Including Samuel, a documentary by Dan Habib that is airing on television stations in the U.S, chronicles a family’s journey to include their disabled son in all that life has to offer. Samuel has cerebral palsy. My long-time readers may recall that my little (born Feb. 23, 2008 at 26 weeks—1 lb. 12 oz.—101 days in the NICU) grandson Nicolas has been diagnosed with cerebral palsy.

So, this film hits home. I’ve just seen the 12-minute trailer. I hope you will watch this film if you have the chance. I know I will. At least click on the link and watch the trailer.

Closer to home though, as I watch little Nic crawl around army-style on the floor, I hope for the best. Hope the therapists who say they think he will walk by “three or four” are in one sense, right—that Nicolas will walk—or wrong in that Nicolas will walk sooner. Mostly, I try not to think too much about what ifs. I know that human spirit can overcome some labels and that much is left up to Nic’s spirit and determination. He has been given a tough hand to play. Many are helping him but no one can really predict. Labels are hurtful, limiting, unfair.

And that’s why inclusion is important. Not just because to me this is personal. But because all of us need to know that we have a chance to overcome, excel, fly—to soar wherever our talents may allow us to go. To walk, run, swim, create, speak, heal, cure, invent, teach, and to participate in all the other possibilities of life.

Googling BedBugs

2009-09-07T07:27:00.003-05:00

I put Google ads back up on the blog since I am trying to make it to my $100 threshold. I don’t write to make money, but I would like to get the few bucks Google says I have earned. However, I thought it funny that three of the ads were about bedbugs. Well, that’s because I wrote about the Poundin Bedbugs Playskool toy and the fact that Colorado State didn’t have their annual sofa roundup because of the little critters. I will try to watch what I write about from now on.

My Favorites on America’s Got Talent

2009-09-06T09:15:00.004-05:00

America’s Got Talent: Guilty pleasure, manipulated reality talent show—that’s my take and I’m there. So far, I’m a big fan of former chicken catcher Kevin Skinner, aspiring country-ballad singer. If he’s genuine—there’s always a part of me that holds on to a bit of skepticism with these competitions—he has my vote. Then, those three Texas Tenors look awfully cute in their cowboy hats. Soprano Barbara Padilla sings beautifully, plus she’s a cancer survivor—she’s high on my list. Next week brings more semi-finalist performances. Hope they are as good as the last round.

2009-08-29T06:27:00.002-05:00

I was talking to a colleague at work yesterday. She mentioned that she had a shop in an antique mall, something I had never heard her talk about. “Oh, yeah,” she said, “I opened it about 15 years ago. Did real well.” She went on to say that she’d lost her passion for the shop now.

I’m kind of like that with the blog. I still love to write and have no shortage of topics I could write about here. Maybe, it’s because I write quite a bit at work—different type of writing but writing still. I look at how long it’s been since I posted last. Yes, I’d say, I have lost interest. So, I reckon I’ll see how this goes. Maybe I’ll still write once in awhile, but if you don’t hear from you, you’ll know why.

Meanwhile, see how Andrew Sullivan views blogging in this Atlantic piece (warning: it is long).

A Childhood Memory

2009-08-09T11:19:00.002-05:00

I remember this poem by Robert Louis Stevenson. Mother recited to me often. I found this page in a Dover Publication and thought it appropriate for a summer day.

Treasure Island might be more respected and popular as far as a RLS work. I recall reading that book for myself. Of course, this Baby Boomer will always have the Disney version of the tale in my mind. But, it is The Swing I recall when hot summer days take me back to my childhood memories.

A Blogging Anniversary

2009-08-02T10:41:00.004-05:00

When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us. Helen Keller

I’ve been blogging for three years now. The first post (July 31, 2006) was one day after my 54th birthday. Here’s what I said back then.

And here’s where I am now. I have a real job working for a nonprofit organization helping needy elders, children and families. I still wonder how much time I have left. It’s been over five years since the Big C visited me.

I still ramble way too much. I can have the attention span of a gnat. My head is teeming with untested ideas. I don’t write here as often and regret the loss of time to cyber-visit with readers. To recap, since 2006, I have moved from Alabama to Springfield, Missouri, and from Springfield to Batavia, Illinois. My marriage of nearly 37 years ended last summer. Lots of other things happened of course, but I’m saving those stories for the book.

So, the past year has been a year of transition, self-discovery, self-sufficiency, and soul searching. While I see the glass half full, I wouldn’t mind if it were completely full. As I flit from one great notion to the next, I do feel progress is being made, ever so slowly.

The best is yet to come!

Don’t Let the Bedbugs Bite

2009-07-17T06:30:00.003-05:00

No “Good night, John Boy,” at my childhood home. It was always Mom saying, “Night, night, don’t let the bedbugs bite.

I just thought it was a sweet way to close the day. Later, I realized bedbugs are real. And maybe you have had an up close and personal encounter.
But Fort Collins, Colorado, apparently does not plan to become a bedbugs mega center.
Colorado State University’s annual Great Sofa Roundup was canceled after organizers worried they might be recycling the little critters as residents hauled used sofas to a CSU parking lot instead of dumping them in alleys at the end of summer leases.

However, when I came across a toy with a bedbugs theme, I had to get it for Nicolas as I gradually build up a Gramma stash of little guy accoutrements.

A Patriotic Rocky Road to Recovery

2009-07-04T18:05:00.004-05:00

What better than a cone of ice cream to celebrate the Fourth of July? I found a new flavor of Edy’s ice cream at the grocery store today.

What caught my eye in addition to the patriotic colors was the little product note on the back.

At Edy’s®, we have a history of lifting spirits. In 1929, we introduced a new flavor of ice cream to bring a smile to people during the dark days of the Great Depression. That flavor was Rocky Road. Now 80 years later, we’re at it again. To brighten the summer, Edy’s is proud to unveil a new Slow Churned® Light Ice Cream Limited Edition Flavor: Red, White & No More Blues!

I’ll let you know what we think, but I’d be surprised if I didn’t like it.

The Edy’s folks are doing their part to further economic recovery. Now, go out and buy something. That’s is if you still have a job.

Defining Moments

2009-06-24T06:51:00.004-05:00

I hate labels. No, not the kind on food or medicine, which are practical and helpful except when they are deceptive.

The labels I hate are the kind applied to people. Mostly, I hate them because they do not define a person, only a condition, or at least what some expert seems to think is the condition. So what.

Somewhere along the line someone said I was shy. Is that bad? We introverts are supposed to extroverts. That is the norm. It took me some time to say, “You’re OK. I’m OK.”

As is the case often these days, my fractured mind took me off course. The excerpt below is what got me to thinking about labels. Dear Gentle Readers of some standing may remember my grandson Nic’s extremely early arrival into this world at 26 weeks, 1 pound and 12 ounces in February 2008. Then as now, we worried how these circumstances might impact his life.

While Nic has already overcome many hurdles, he has his work cut out for him. Of course, he is not alone in his journey. In addition to family, Nic has an army of specialists and experts on Team Nic. Here’s what Nic’s mom had to say recently,

We have been worried with the continued stiffness that Nic has in his legs, feet and pelvis. Upon several expert suggestions, we decided to take Nic to Children's Memorial Hospital in Chicago to see a pediatric physiatrist, who specializes in whole body movement. Nic hasn't been able to sit up on the floor by himself because the tightness makes him fall to one side or throw himself backward. It also can make him “slouch” when sitting in a highchair. The physiatrist confirmed what we thought, which is that Nicolas has Cerebral Palsy in the form of spastic diplegia. This means that the legs are primarily affected, and also minimal tightness in the arms. This type of CP does not usually affect the cognitive or social abilities of the kids who have it, and does not get worse. CP is a condition that you are born with and that does not progress. Right now we know that the brain trauma he suffered after premature birth is causing his brain to send chemicals to his legs to make them stiff. Although it is hard to have your child labeled like this when he is so perfect in your eyes, we know that CP has a wide range of effects, from very mild to severe. Right now the doctor classifies his as mild.

We are going to have to help Nic continue to work hard to stretch and loosen these muscles in order for him to be able to sit up and eventually walk. That is a scary proposition for any parent to be told that your child may not walk. But, we have great faith in Nic’s abilities and are so proud of his determination so far. He already is exercising and stretching himself and helping himself make progress. I already can’t help but think of him as a tough guy and look at other kids differently because they don’t work as hard as he does. I’m sure that will always be the case.

Other things that we will be doing to try to help him progress is adding PT for a second time a week, starting Occupational Therapy, and also adding Aquatic Therapy once a week. Yes, Nic is going to get more pool time! He loved his first swimming class with Jeff at the Rush-Copley Healthplex, but now he will be trying therapy in the water one-on-one with a PT. I think he will really like this and we will continue to feed his love for the water. This weekend he used his baby pool on the deck for the first time. We will also be using the braces for his feet and knee immobilizers to help him stretch and keep his feet in the correct position. There may be other orthopedic devices that we employ here in the near future.

Down the road Nic may also need surgery, Botox injections, serial casting or oral medications to loosen the muscles as his bones grow longer. The Physiatrist specializes in kids with CP and is going to help us coordinate all his care so we don’t get lost in a sea of opinions.

It is what it is. It is not what it will be.

NOTE: Lisa Belkin has a parenting blog over at the New York Times called Motherlode. She recently posted a wonderful piece of writing by David Sexton titled “Out a Breath,” which was about having a child with Cerebral Palsy.

Strawberry Pies Forever

2009-06-21T12:57:00.014-05:00

Hey y’all marketing/pr folks over at Shoney’s, Frisch’s Big Boy, or Bob’s Big Boy Restaurants, I have a question for you if your alerts pick up on this blog post. What’s the real original recipe for your strawberry pie?

I have had a recipe for years that tastes pretty close to what I remember the pie tasting like. However, no fewer that 46 versions crop up when you search Shoney’s Strawberry Pie over at cooks.com and another 11 more if you search Bob’s Big Boy Strawberry Pie.

Some call for strawberry Jello. Others cooks top their pies with Cool Whip (do not get me started on Cool Whip) instead of whipped cream. My version uses 7-Up. So I was curious as to what is the real, original version y’all came up with?

In case you were wondering Dear Gentle Readers, I made a strawberry pie for elder son in honor of Father’s Day. Hope he likes it.

Batavia—Where the Biggest Crime is Catnapping

2009-06-16T06:07:00.004-05:00

Batavia—Where the Biggest Crime is Catnapping as a headline was too good for me to pass up. The Daily Herald reported this story the other day.

Seems a neighbor lady got fed up by Linus the cat doing catly things like killing birds and chipmunks. According to other neighbors, this female vigilante confessed to them that she had trapped Linus with a can of tuna and took him to a park for release.

Batavia’s deputy police chief said, “I can’t recall anything quite like this. We’ve had issues where pets come up missing, but this has a bit of a twist.”

Apparently this tension has been brewing ever since Linus moved into the neighborhood and his owner said someone had even posted a sign on their door warning them to keep the cat inside.

The catnapper will be arrested, but Linus is still missing.

The point of my post. I don't really know. Just struck me as an indication of how easily little things can get under a person's skin.

Lost

2009-06-03T07:38:00.003-05:00

College Boy has joined the Dharma Initiative a.k.a Fermilab, the world's leading particle physics lab. Monday was orientation and CB is amazed by the brainpower around him. With over 6,000 acres, Fermilab is a pretty incredible place environmentally too. We drove around yesterday when I picked up CB and found the buffalo herd. Nice. But we did get Lost.

Be Big

2009-05-24T06:16:00.004-05:00

I entered this contest yesterday. You should too. You don't have to be a kid either. Scholastic is encouraging everyone to Be Big and think creatively about how we can help our communities. Go for it! You have until June 26. Wonder what I suggested? Just ask.

Delightfully Macabre

2009-05-16T07:34:00.005-05:00

My latest weekend passion is researching fabric designs either online (today) or at my local JoAnn Fabric store. Blame the fascination on my attempt to combine quilting with my love of design.

I was struck by this fabric called ‘vida de los muertos’ by Alexander Henry and had a hard time picturing how one would use it. Thankfully, the folks at J & O Fabrics had suggestions for this “delightfully macabre imagining of the daily routine of skeletons.” How about Hawaiian shirts, bags, crafts or an outfit for Rover? And then, I found a link to the bib pictured here.

Maybe one day you will see fabric by yours truly.

Feeling Picky

2009-05-09T07:10:00.005-05:00

Having delayed getting my Illinois driver's license since returning to the state, I finally read Illinois Rules of the Road. I guess we have a shortage of proofreaders.

Missing Montana

2009-05-07T21:34:00.002-05:00

I have never been to Montana. I have it in my head to go to Montana. This longing is nothing new as it goes back several years, fueled perhaps by too many years living in towns and cities.

As a young girl, I grew up living in the country—rural Alabama to be precise. My dad bought 20 acres and built a house on the land after he got out of the Air Force. From the age of five until 18 when I went away to college, I lived there, roaming the woods unto my self for the most part. I was an only child, close to my grandpa and grandma, who took care of me while my mom went off to her breadwinner job at Maxwell Air Force Base in nearby Montgomery. My dad never seemed to be able to make a go at much we judge success by—the War left him wounded without the visible signs. He never was the same says an aunt.

So, with rose-colored glasses, I look back on a sometimes lonely childhood. But it is what molded me and I appreciate quiet, nature, and time for reflection. Maybe that is what draws me to Montana. I think if Montana is anywhere as pretty as the pictures, I might find what I seek.

Take Two Aspirin and Call Me in the Morning

2009-05-02T08:34:00.003-05:00

Reuters reports farmers fear pigs might get “swine” flu from people. I must admit that headline made me laugh, but then upon reading further, I realized maybe I shouldn’t have. One Kansas hog farmer said he was banning visitors from his farm and anyone needing to be near the porkers had to submit to a sort of swine security clearance. A Purdue University veterinarian said, “Pigs get flu just like people get flu.” And an Iowa pork producer added, “It's a real issue. If the pigs get it, there isn’t much we can do. Water, aspirin, and bed rest, that’s all we’ve got.”

Last weekend when cable reporters were all over this story like hogs after slop (not that I think the media are swine), I dismissed the hubbub as more mass hysteria, whopped up by media with too much airtime on their hands. Could I have been wrong?

Here in the far reaches of Chicagoland, officials closed Batavia High School and a middle school on Thursday after suspected cases of H1N1 were discovered. The Batavia Park District canceled all programs and gatherings through Sunday for children, and suburban papers reported business at some Mexican restaurants was way off.

Over-hype or not, it’s too early to say. However, the economic consequences are real and there are sick folks out there. I’ve avoided the regular flu all season and just when I think the danger of that has passed, up pops the swine kind. As Rosanne Rosannadanna used to say, “It just goes to show you, Jane . . . it’s always something. If it isn’t one thing it’s another.”

Stamp Out Hunger Food Drive

2009-05-01T06:02:00.007-05:00

Put this on your calendar, America: Stamp Out Hunger Food Drive is coming up. HSP, where I work, gets food from the Stamp Out Hunger Drive, which happens on Saturday, May 9. Food from this drive largely fuels our Feed the Kids summer nutrition program.

Lots of food pantries need your help. Simply leave your donation next to your mailbox and your letter carrier will pick it up if your local office is participating. Call yours to see. Sadly, some are not. If that’s the case, Google food pantry and the name of your town and then take your donation to a local agency who needs it. Feeding America has a pantry locator too.

What should you donate? Peanut butter and jelly (our shelves are pretty bare), hearty soups, pasta, pancake mix requiring no eggs, syrup, cereal, tuna, coffee (we never get enough of this), mayonnaise, ketchup, canned tomatoes, canola oil, oatmeal, juice (V-8 is my favorite), crackers, Ensure, and low-sodium or sugarless products.

No glass or expired products. That’s really all you need to know. Except . . . there are so many in our country who really do need food. I talk to people everyday looking for help. Shouldn’t be this way. Not in America. Go forth and donate.

Bama Quilt Gets a Tryout

2009-04-25T09:34:00.006-05:00

I finally finished the quilt for Nicolas. Here he is lounging around on it at a wedding shower last weekend at a wedding shower in his mom’s hometown of St. Joseph, Missouri. Nic was the only guy there. His dad was at Grandpa and Grandma Hammer’s house watching Alabama’s A-Day football game on ESPN. Unlike urban protocol, Mid-America small-town protocol still allows that men don’t much care for attending wedding showers. Personally, I agree, but Nic did not seem to mind one bit I am told.

National Volunteer Week Starts April 19

2009-04-19T12:25:00.011-05:00

Most of my long-time readers know I work for a nonprofit organization that helps low-income senior citizens and children. Heck, some of you have even contributed to HSP. So, y’all shouldn’t be surprised that I would have volunteers on my mind this week.

I recently recruited three new volunteers for our speakers’ team. These speakers spread our community outreach efforts further than our small staff ever could. What impresses me most is that these talented people are working full-time; and yet, they are called to volunteer their time when I’m sure they could be otherwise engaged. Our nonprofit’s lifeblood is the volunteer. With a lean paid staff, volunteers support us every day in our mission to alleviate some of the pain caused by poverty. I’ll bet it’s that way at most nonprofits.

Today, contrary to what was once the image of volunteers as retired folks seeking ways to fill newly acquired “down” time (we have a great bunch of those folks too), volunteers come in all ages and from all backgrounds. One of the new speakers is a young man not long out of university who plays music on the weekend in a band. Another is a working-outside-of-the-home mom with two teens. And the third is a dynamic young man who is working and going back to school. The common thread is that they are passionate about wanting to help others and have chosen our organization as the conduit.

If you have an extra hour or two, find a way to volunteer. You’ll make someone happy and that could even be yourself. And if you happen to be in the Chicagoland area, drop by for a tour this Tuesday. I’m making oatmeal scotchies.

Open House for National Volunteer Week
Humanitarian Service Project
465 Randy Road, Carol Stream, Illinois
Phone: 630-221-8340
Tuesday, April 21: 9:30-5:30 p.m.

Monte

2009-04-18T09:51:00.005-05:00

Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole. ~Roger Caras

We lost a dear family friend this week. He passed way too early, barely out of adolescence. For the last few months he had faced an illness which only seemed to get worse. Finally, the time came when we had to say goodbye.

Like those we love and lose, I will remember the good times most of all. As a youngster, he swam in our pool and chewed sticks in the front yard of my Alabama home when he visited. He flunked obedience training, but he was smart. He learned to go the door, indicating a need to attend to business best completed outside if you know what I mean. Then, he would pull the trick of stealing my spot on the most comfy chair before I could close the door.

His human mom and dad are sad and so I am.

Revisiting Spring

2009-04-12T10:05:00.006-05:00

And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Sheltered from the still chilly north wind, the bright daffodils surprised me the other morning as I headed off to work. Yet, there they were as if overnight they sprung to life, brave little souls they were tucked safe against the south wall of the house.

I think of daffodils as the first harbinger of spring. Maybe I should credit my fifth grade teacher for my love of daffodils since she required us to memorize poems, and I think that was when I first read William Wordworth’s “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud,” more commonly and appropriately called the “Daffodils.”

Today is sunny and soon less hardly plants will venture forth. I can barely wait. As the life contained in dormant seeds and bulbs begins to push its way up toward the light and warmth, so shall I.

A Cause for the Little Ones

2009-04-04T08:58:00.008-05:00

February 23, 2008, doctors at Rush Copley Hospital in Aurora, Illinois, delivered Nicolas Bryant Noblitt at 26 weeks gestation. In case you “don’t know nothing about birthin’ babies,” that’s way too early.

Baby Nico spent 101 days in the neonatal intensive care unit, best called NICU by those families all too familiar with NICU alarms, monitors, endless tests, teams of medical professionals, and constant worry about what comes next.

On the cusp of summer, Nic came home that sunny June day with machines, monitors, and tubes and wires. Not exactly the vision most new parents have for their baby’s homecoming. Books like “What to Expect When You Are Expecting” and its cousins can hardly prepare new moms and dads for the exhausting and anxious ride they are in for when their baby is born prematurely.

So worried and hungry for more information shortly after Nic’s birth, I turned to the March of Dimes Web site to learn more about what this little guy could face. It delivered (pardon the pun).

The March of Dimes is a charitable organization I supported long before baby Nic came into this world. As a schoolgirl in the late 50s and early 60s, I remember the March of Dimes coin cards handed out to raise money. Think about it, this campaign worked! When President FDR founded the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis, that was the goal—find a cure. Dr. Jonas Salk’s vaccine against polio did just that. Dr. Albert Sabin’s oral vaccine brought even easier access to protection. Little pink sugar cubes dosed the vaccine to millions worldwide.

With the success of the vaccine for polio behind it, the March of Dimes shifted its focus to preventing premature births and fostering research into helping those little ones born too soon have a shot at a good life. And today, they fund research that gave Nic and his NICU buddies a chance. Yes, I know the organization needs to work on fiscal responsibility, and since I work for a 4-Star Charity Navigator nonprofit, the fact that March of Dimes is not there yet bothers me a bit. However, they have my support.

If you happen to be in northern Illinois on Sunday, April 26 at 8:00 a.m., join Team Nic at Pottawatomie Park, 8 North Avenue in Saint Charles. And if you can’t make it, follow the link and help Natalie reach her goal.

And visit Nic on ciao-nico. He is surely one cute guy.

Dog-gone Good Ideas

2009-03-21T08:26:00.004-05:00

I came across a great site this morning called Springwise, which is a network of 8,000 spotters who scan the globe for new business ideas.

This is a great site to keep up with innovative trends across a spectrum of industries, business, and pop culture.

And there I found a story--Social Networking for Dogs--and followed a link to the original Web site dogtree.com where you can find your dog a playmate or walking friend, arrange dogsitting, and meet new dogs in your neighborhood--if you happen to live in Australia and if you happen to have a dog. Neither of which applies to me at the present.

Oh, don't you just the the Internet? Happy Saturday!

All the World is a Twitter

2009-03-15T14:44:00.003-05:00

Can you keep up with Facebook, MySpace, Eons, LinkedIn and more? I do not think I can. However, I just signed up for Twitter, but I doubt I will remember to post on the fad-driven keep-it-simple social networking Web site.

I sort of had to get on Facebook since my boss charged me with serving as an administrator for our nonprofit's presence. I was already on LinkedIn but have no real idea why except my daughter-in-law suggested it.

Eons is probably more my speed since it is for Baby Boomers and I am certainly one of those.

Who knows what will come up next but according to Twitter I was thinking about going for a walk. That does sound healthier than sitting at the computer wasting time.

Spring

2009-03-08T10:16:00.003-05:00

The folks at Kline Creek Farm posted this photo of one of their newest babies. Located in Wheaton, Illinois, the forest preserve runs the farm to give local residents and kids an idea of what a working farm of the late 1800s was like.

I love the sweetness of new life. Spring is near.

Cow Talk

2009-02-16T08:59:00.005-06:00

TURLOCK, Calif. – Hundreds of thousands of America’s dairy cows are being turned into hamburgers because milk prices have dropped so low that farmers can no longer afford to feed the animals.

You won’t find this AP story on the Real California Milk Web site amongst the Happy Cows merchandise, but if you are still in the mood after reading it, you can cast a vote in the contest to pick the next California Happy Cow, part of the California Milk Advisory Board’s (CMAB) integrated TV and Web campaign.

While People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) sued the CMAB over this ad campaign and lost, they haven’t given up on the issue as you can see if you visit UnhappyCows.com

You bet the CMAB campaign plays on myth and fantasy. Cows don’t talk, and for the most part, they don’t frolic around in green pastures under a canopy of crystal blue skies with puffy white clouds. Nor do they parachute onto football fields like the American chicken fast-food chain Chick-fil-A Holstein hucksters. Not even in California.

However, dear gentle readers, I have digressed. When I saw the story this morning, I felt sad. You see I struggle with a love of animals and yet have chosen to continue as a non-vegetarian. I am rethinking this position, by the way, in case the more militant PETA folks decide to get after me for this inconsistency.

Still, we have another example of the trickle downturn in the economy. Mr. O, my hope needs a boost today as I pass shuttered stores and street corners with store-closing sign holders, and I think of the loss and the loss to come.

Coffee Talk

2009-02-07T11:43:00.002-06:00

Yes, I would agree with Consumer Reports taste-testers who picked Eight O’Clock Coffee as America’s best-tasting coffee. Put those beans in your grinder, Starbucks, and grind them!

Seriously, though, on one level , I respect Starbucks’ successful marketing efforts, but I do not especially like the robust products found there. And I know many small coffee houses were run out of business by the giant. But, hey, isn’t that the American way? Please don’t take my random ramblings as anti-Starbucks. Did I show just a tad too much glee that the mega company got bested?

I have written about the corporation before when the Glen Ellyn, Illinois, Starbucks ran afoul of one customer and garnered some media attention. A couple of years ago they apparently kicked a 70 year-old woman out of the downtown Starbucks claiming employees mistook her for a homeless person. She wasn't.

But I have a couple of new Starbucks stories.

One of the former interns for the nonprofit I work at rallied a bunch of Starbucks customers at the location where she worked as a barista, and they put up a Christmas tree with the names of needy kids and bought a bunch of Christmas gifts for them. Now that’s nice and it really helped our organization when toy donations were down.

The second Starbucks story comes via my daughter-in-law whose car got hit by a sign while she was in the drive-through. Apparently, everything was handled to her satisfaction—the car damage will be taken care of and they gave her some free coffee coupons. Good thing she likes Starbucks.

Well, I did digress dear gentle readers. Chock it up to too much caffeine this morning. And in case you wondered, I was drinking Trader Joe’s French Roast.

Obama Girls are Real Dolls

2009-01-24T08:58:00.007-06:00

(Crain’s) — The nation’s first daughters, Sasha and Malia Obama, have joined the ranks of Barbie, Rainbow Brite and Strawberry Shortcake. Ty Inc., maker of Beanie Babies, released “Sweet Sasha” and “Marvelous Malia” dolls earlier this month as part of its TyGirlz Collection. Westmont-based Ty launched the line in 2007.

In our culture of celebrity, how can new First Lady Michelle Obama think her daughters will escape our American fascination? Yes, it’s celebrity by association but celebrity nonetheless.

Sasha and Malia Obama are cute enough for the genius who brought us Beanie Babies to name a couple of TyGirlz, “Marvelous Malia” and “Sweet Sasha.” According to Crain’s Chicago Businesss, at first a spokeswoman “confirmed that the dolls were created to resemble President Barack Obama’s daughters.” The next day that changed to, “They were not designed to look like any living person.” Really? It’s not hard to argue who might have inspired the name choice. I’ll grant lawyer-mom Michelle that.

However, despite potential legal issues this is a bit extreme. Mom, pick your battles. There will likely be bigger issues with protecting the girls than this--more egregious examples that do warrant attention. The dolls are not offensive and if they inspire sales for a Chicagoland company, isn’t that helping the local economy?

Most of the folks at the Huffington Post disagree with me. I read one page of comments and found one sole TyGirlz defender who said her daughters liked the dolls. Of course, everyone else seemed to jump all over her. Maybe y'all should go after Dover Publications and others making money on the Obamas. I prefer to concentrate on real matters of national importance. Let us not lose the focus that lead to Obama's election as President by silly and distracting diversions like this.

Mind-Boggling

2009-01-18T10:03:00.007-06:00

(Peggy is crying after losing a game of Boggle)
Hank: You’re smarter than anyone in Arlen.
Peggy: Well, woopty-doo, I’m the smartest hick in hick town.

I think Peggy Hill is on to something. Remember Peggy? King of the Hill mom and Boggle player extraordinaire, Peggy is one of my favorite animated TV moms. Of course, with two sons who were fond of Mike Judge’s Beavis and Butthead when they were growing up, it’s only fitting that I’d like Judge’s Peggy—not that I identify with her. After all, I’ve never been the Boggle Champion of Texas.

Peggy came to mind as we have been playing Boggle lately, and I have been bested all too frequently. And then I discovered a non-intimidating time waster online. You can play interactive Boggle.

Seems I remembered reading that working with words improves mental functioning. Although I refuse to join AARP, I do occasionally look at their Web site, where I recently found 10 steps to an optimal memory. Number two right after exercise was “Keep Learning.” And evidentally, playing games like Boggle and Scrabble counts toward improving memory.

So, I guess the few minutes I spent on interactive Boggle was actually time well spent. Ah heck, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Poetic Justice for Somali Pirates

2009-01-10T11:16:00.004-06:00

MOGADISHU, Somalia – Five of the Somali pirates who released a hijacked oil-laden Saudi supertanker drowned with their share of a reported $3 million ransom after their small boat capsized, a pirate and a relative of one of the dead men said Saturday.

This is my nomination for the best example of poetic justice I’ve seen lately. Am I callous to feel this way?

I don’t think so.

We have a love/hate relationship with pirates. Whether it was Errol Flynn portraying a dashing and romantic pirate in movies of a bygone era like Captain Blood, Billy Zane’s creepy psycho pirate in Dead Calm, or a playful Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, we never expect to encounter a real pirate. Pirates are supposed to be entertaining, belonging these days in the world of fantasy.

So, I don’t really feel bad for thinking the way I do. Modern day pirates have sullied what had become a safe fantasy and they got what they deserved.

Toys for Tots and Hard Time Reflections

2008-12-13T07:50:00.012-06:00

As I shopped online for toys for baby Nic’s first Christmas, I came across an old childhood favorite, Careers. Oh the hours I spent playing that one with the cousins. I will teach Nic to play cards and board games and I promise to be more patient with CandyLand than I was with Nic’s dad.

Well, shopping and thinking about toys is something I haven’t done for so long that I’m kind of out of practice. My venture to Toys R Us last Sunday was a great disappointment. I felt so out of my element. I prefer to shop online and the toy I ordered from Amazon arrived in a couple of days.

Toys are a large part of my life at work too as they pour in as we prepare to fill the wish lists of the kids in our Christmas program. The folks at Toys for Tots where we get a lot of toys from are reporting that donations are down, and yesterday we got far fewer than last year. It’s been a struggle at our non-profit. We don’t know yet what the end result will be, but it is safe to say Santa is adjusting to leaner times.

Which all leads me to wonder, what course of materialism have we set ourselves up for? Have we built up our children’s expectations too high? Have we lived too far beyond our means for far too long?

I remember Mom talking about the Great Depression and being thankful to get oranges and peppermint candy canes at Christmas time. She knew the meaning of doing without. We Baby Boomers and our Generation X and Next offspring really do not yet know that lesson.

Mom’s Okie family fell on hard times and headed off to California when the Dust Bowl hit, wiping the topsoil needed for healthy crops off of their little hardscrabble farm. They got as far as Arizona. The kids old enough picked cotton alongside Granny and my grandfather. After a time, they loaded up the truck and headed back to Oklahoma and got by with the help of family. Not until WWII did things turn around. Mom went off to work for the government in Washington, D. C. and the country rebounded.

So, dear gentle readers, while I reflect and ponder these questions, I still am encouraged by the true spirit of Christmas. I see it everyday in the people giving to those less fortunate. Officemates who give up their traditional gift exchanges in favor of helping others. School kids who emptied their piggy banks and delivered an envelope stuffed with dollars and coins. Scouts, Key Clubs, Rotary Clubs, Kiwanis, Lions, churches of all kinds, businesses, individuals. They are coming through.

As one donor said to me, “I am doing ok—at least for now.” I like that. Me too—at least for now

She Stopped and Changed Course

2008-12-03T22:46:00.004-06:00

With a slight layer of snow on the ground, a mostly flat prairie landscape has prepared itself for winter. Acres of cornfields as far as my eye could see now sport only stubs of the once flourishing crop. Almost overnight, we went from waves of green to stark barren ground sometimes dotted with flocks of Canada geese.

I almost cried the other morning on my way to work. The day, devoid of sunlight, was too much a reminder of the long, cold period ahead. How, dear gentle readers, did this former girl of the South find herself so far North? Do I dream of warmth and short winters? You bet. But most of all, I’d love to know that I wouldn’t have to worry about slipping on icy walks, steps and parking lots.

On the way back from dropping off Scott at school, a beautiful deer darted toward the road and I prayed she would stop before my car crashed into her. A small prayer was answered as she stopped and returned to the barren cornfield and I continued on my way.

I am tired. My days are busy. So busy there is little time for reflection. Maybe though this winter is just the right time—a time to beware of slippery dangers not always apparent, a black ice if you will. Maybe, just maybe, the long winter will bring a healing spring full of new growth. It’s something to look forward to.

Sewing Up Some Football

2008-11-29T08:28:00.006-06:00

Months ago I wrote about my adventures in learning how to quilt. Maybe I should say my misadventures. I have ripped out more than I have sewn it seems (did that pun escape you?).

However, Nic’s quilt for Christmas, which I hoped to have finished by the Alabama-Auburn Iron Bowl game—it’s today dear gentle non-football-fan readers, is coming along.
I have discovered that this project, launched with nary a pattern to guide me, has been immensely fun as well as immensely time consuming. My day job is interfering in the progress of this seat-of-my-pants project.

I am not your grandma’s quilter, content to choose a pattern someone else designed. I have chosen to design my own. Yet, what you see here is not what I set out to create. It was much more ambitious.

There is much left to do but I have finished the quilt top. Next, I will attach the back and inner batting to the top and then “quilt” the whole thing by hand. Thank God it is only a crib-size quilt. And thank God for the little Project Runway Brother sewing machine I recently bought. I used it to appliqué the letters and footballs.

I will let you know how it turns out, but I have a football game to get ready for. ROOOLL TIDE!

NOTE: I like the new sewing machine from Brother but do not expect to see me trying out for Project Runway. Now if they had a show about designing quilts and such, I might give that a shot.

Favorite Childhood Christmas Presents & Memories

2008-11-22T10:05:00.006-06:00

As Christmas approaches, I was thinking about what were my favorite childhood toys.
My first memory is of Tiny Tears. She cried tears and wet her diaper and I loved her. I must have been about four or five when she came into my life one Christmas. She became the favorite doll until that more sophisticated Barbie stole my heart.

But rooting around in my mom’s closet one pre-Christmas Saturday, I discovered that Santa has lots of help from you-know-who, and Christmas anticipation was set back a notch or two. That is until another Saturday right before Christmas.

During the week, Mom worked her secretary job at Maxwell Air Force Base, commuting 20 miles from our home in the country to Montgomery. Saturdays became her days for grocery shopping at the Piggly Wiggly, errands and trips to JC Penney’s to try on what seemed like hundreds of dress as I tagged along.

When I was growing up, downtown Montgomery was THE place to shop. Pre-Selma to Montgomery march, pre-shopping malls and strip shops. There were two five and dimes. A trip downtown usually meant a visit to S. H. Kress where you could find all manner of cheap stuff, some of it not made in China. Sometimes we’d get a blue-plate special at the lunch counter—the white lunch counter. Even as a child it didn’t make sense to me. Why was there a separate entrance marked “colored” at my pediatrician’s office? The water fountains, the lunch counters.

But I have digressed, dear gentle readers.

On this particular post-Santa Claus-enlightenment Saturday, Mom and I headed to Montgomery Fair Department Store. Yep, the same place where Rosa Parks once worked as a seamstress--work that wore her out so much that she refused to move to the back of the bus that fateful day that launched the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

I already knew my big present that year was going to be a bike. As I nearly raced down the stairs to the store basement and laid eyes on it, I could hardly believe what I saw—a pink and white beauty with handlebar streamers sure to fly once I mastered the art of bicycling.

Christmas was yet to come this year but no Christmas since could match how I felt that day. I learned to ride the J. C. Higgins bike with Grandpa Parsons’ hands supporting my wobbly first efforts. He held on and as I gained momentum, he knew when it was safe to let go and I sailed off, streamers flying.

I invite my dear gentle readers to share favorite childhood Christmas memories. Send me an E-mail and I’ll post your responses or leave a long comment.

Tis the Season

2008-11-15T08:41:00.010-06:00

Matthew 17:19-20 “Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, ‘Why could we not cast it out?’ He said to them, ‘Because of your little faith. For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.”

Long-time readers may recall a couple of years ago, I wrote extensively about Christmas. Starting about this time in November of 2006, I focused numerous posts on the topic of Christmas. Last year brought the 2nd Annual Christmas Countdown and with this post, I, as the proprietress of the Alabama Kitchen Sink blog, hereby and forthwith launch the 3rd Annual Christmas Countdown. TA DA and you may now pop the cork on the bubbly.

There’s a new twist this year. You see, my 9-5:30 workday is as one of Santa’s elves. Do you think I’m kidding?

Okay, I am not really an elf, but I feel like one and my days revolve around getting ready for Christmas, and I get paid for it. Wonder what Santa pays his elves? The nonprofit I work for, the Humanitarian Service Project, is helping 1,400 needy children and 115 low-income seniors this Christmas as the organization has helped those in need for nearly 30 years.

It all started that Christmas in 1979 in the spare bedroom of the founders. Year by year community support grew as did HSP’s reputation. A couple of years ago, the organization moved into a location with its own warehouse for storing the food and toys collected.

Located in central DuPage County, Illinois, HSP serves the forgotten in a sea of plenty. The people we help are hard-working families with children or seniors trying to stretch meager incomes to provide just the necessities like food. We wonder what the Christmas Project will bring this year. Already we have lost some sponsorships for our seniors.

Each day I talk to struggling families. Jobs are lost, illness strikes. A mother must tell her little ones Santa can't make it to our house this year. Why? How would you answer that question? Surrounded by the materialism of our culture, I would think this is a hard question. Some may say that we reap the rewards or failures of our own self determination, hard work, and choices.

One of my co-workers and I were talking about what makes people give to others while some choose not to help. An interesting thought best pondered another day.

The Humanitarian Service Project is an Illinois not-for-profit corporation, and a Four Star Charity Navigator Charity. If you’d like to make a donation, you may do so through Network for Good.

Mission Statement: It is the mission of the Humanitarian Service Project to alleviate the pain and suffering that poverty brings to needy seniors and children living in DuPage and Kane Counties, Illinois, without distinction of gender, race, creed, caste, or color.

Awake

2008-11-09T10:30:00.002-06:00

Awake—Omar tells her
But she sleeps and
Barely hears my voice

I’ve been spending a few minutes this morning purging. I don’t mean the definition associated with bulimia nervosa. Sorry for that image.

Yet, it might be somewhat appropriate in a subconscious way. I have thought about writing about some things that have happened in my life in the last year, each time backing away for whatever reason.

This morning as I set out to clean up the files on my computer, I found constant reminders of a previous life. Reminders of good times--photos of trips to Italy and celebrations of family events like birthdays and my son’s wedding. Amidst these pleasant occasions, I opened a letter laying out problems to be dealt with or ignored. Then a poem. Work files that hold no interest for me now. Sketches not of my making. Remnants of another’s life intertwined yet with mine but no longer of my concern.

As I choose what should be deleted, I keep coming back to the letter. Only now after weeks of contemplation, do I begin to evaluate the truth, casting away blame on one level but not another. I decide to keep the letter as a reminder to awake.

Morning After in Obama Land

2008-11-05T07:38:00.003-06:00

If you didn't vote for Obama, I guess you are a bit disappointed this morning. Here in Chicagoland, there was a buzzing energy all yesterday as we went through the day. Nervous, anxious and wondering if just maybe he/we would pull it off. I tried to get tickets to the Grant Park shindig but was wait listed, and I'm not sure I would have ventured into that sea of Obama if the tickets were forthcoming.

And now, the work continues. The election was the tip of the iceberg.

Look for a centrist Obama despite the Right-Wing fears of a Left bonanza. This is the only way to accomplish change. It's going to be interesting. Stay tuned. And get yourself an Obama t-shirt.

Pandora Rocks

2008-11-01T14:34:00.003-05:00

I’ve been listening to Chet Baker Radio today as I re-immerse myself in a long-tabled project. I have son Scott to thank for turning me on to Pandora. I’ve added a link so that you can check it out, but I am enjoying my Chet Baker and company as I work nearby.

The way Pandora works is that you pick an artist and they pick music they think you’ll like. You can thumbs up or down it and create your own little “radio” station. Fitting, in that Scott is taking a radio production class this semester away from Hendrix College at our excellent community college, Waubonsee Community College in Sugar Grove.

And a rambling afterthought. One of my favorite bloggers, Marsha, is soliciting view on whether her high school daughter should go away to college next year or stay at home and attend a community college. Of course, I chipped in my opinion, which I must confess is also rambling. Do y’all see a trend here? My conclusion was to weigh the pros and cons but of course this blogger is well ahead on that front.

Me, I never wanted to go to college anywhere but the University of Alabama. So, I never struggled with that decision. However, decades later when I wanted to learn design skills, I found the Advertising, Design & Illustration program at College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn was excellent and my instructors were talented as well as great teachers.

Where was I? I am supposed to be working on a “long-tabled project” and not blogging. I told you I was rambling. Add distracted to that too

Hearth and Home

2008-10-26T09:54:00.003-05:00

Politics and worry about the economy dominates my thoughts Monday through Friday as I listen to NPR on the way to work. I could talk about those fears. I could talk about Christmas. That’s on my mind 9 to 5:30 each day at work. Maybe I will write about that later since Christmas talk is a tad early for most of you, I know.

Instead, I will write about family. This week saw two milestones. Thursday, October 23, marked the eighth month of life for grandson Nicolas, and Friday, marked his Uncle Scott’s 20th birthday. While other pursuits capture much of my time, and the troubles and problems of the world can pull my head away temporarily, my heart is with my family.
Always.

I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Saturday in Batavia, Illinois

2008-10-11T14:03:00.003-05:00

I miss blogging. When I do finally get around to it, my posts are long, rambling pent-up words that flow as slowly as the Fox River, which is nearby. But today is Saturday and I am free and the day is mine. Why not spend a few minutes doing something I enjoy before turning to more mundane matters like cleaning the clog out of the bathtub?

It is only October and the pumpkins and Obama signs on my street remind me that we still have Halloween to get through before the election. My favorite sign, however, was perched atop a hammock. And the sign count on my block—6 Obama to 1 McCain.

Chasing Bear Bryant

2008-09-28T09:34:00.008-05:00

“It’s not the will to win that matters - everyone has that. It’s the will to prepare to win that matters.” Paul Bear Bryant

Georgia Bulldog fans dressed themselves in black to psyche out Alabama’s Crimson Tide for the Saturday night game. Frat boys painted their shirtless bodies with black. Little did they expect the evening to turn out as more of a funeral. Bama, under Nick Sabin’s coaching, came to play and play they did, ending the first half with a 31 to zip lead. While Georgia managed to adjust somewhat the second half, the game ended 41-30. I’d say that’s a funeral.

The real story is that when the Tide rolls like this, fans dream that the new coach is chasing Bear Bryant’s legend.

In August, Forbes magazine featured Sabin on the cover with the headline, “Sports’ Most Powerful Coach.” The story begins with this question: “College football has long been a big business. But the money and control Alabama gave Nick Saban raised the stakes to an unprecedented level. Is he worth it?”

Football, and especially football in the South, is akin to religion, and I am very religious in autumn when the boys are on the field and the leaves have only begun to think about falling.

Make no mistake, Forbes is right. This is big business. As University of Alabama President Robert Witt says of the recent $500 million capital campaign, “We have had 100,000 donors in that campaign, and a major reason they support us is football.” Tight-fisted Alabama taxpayers aren’t footing the bill for Saban’s salary or the athletic program. A higher caliber of student is attracted to the university and fundraising is easier. And many faculty members have quieted their criticisms for these very reasons.

But Bulldogs, remember, the good guys always wear white (and red). Roll Tide!

Photo Note: Nicolas Bryant and his daddy were all decked out in Bama attire for Nic’s first game watched on ESPN.

Voter Registration Deadlines Approaching

2008-09-27T10:54:00.005-05:00

Y’all know my love of politics. Last night’s debate between John McCain and Barack Obama was a draw in my opinion.

I’m generally not into bashing and trashing since heavens knows there is a ton of that already on TV and online. I do think, however, that Sen. Obama came out looking and sounding more presidential and was the more gracious of the two candidates. Obama faced Sen. McCain, looking directly at him when he spoke to him. My Mama taught me to look at a person when I spoke to him, didn’t yours? And Sen. Obama was confident enough to agree with Sen. McCain on several points, a clear signal that this is the man who can bring us together and not push us further apart.

Debate and economic turbulence aside, I am finally getting around to my point today. Last Thursday on the way home from my new job, I stopped off at the library and registered to vote in my new hometown. The deadline for registering to vote is fast approaching in many states, including here in Illinois, which has a deadline of 28 days before the election.

A great resource for voting information on a state-by-state basis can be found at the U.S. Election Assistance Commission. In a quick perusal on my part I found that voters in Idaho, Maine, Minnesota, Montana, New Hampshire, Wisconsin, and Wyoming can register to vote on election day, and voters in North Dakota don’t even have to register at all, the only state which does not require such of her voters.

The rest of y’all unregistered voters better get yourselves over to the town or county clerk, library, or wherever they sign up folks soon. You can also register by mail in many states. And the Obama folks have a great voter information site to aid with registration too. But please vote! Too much depends on it to sit this one out.

Thinking Ahead to October

2008-09-21T10:27:00.009-05:00

Thinking ahead to October, I am reminded that soon you all will be seeing a bunch of products to make us aware of breast cancer. Seriously, do we need any more reminders?

However, this is the third year that I have created a new design especially for October’s onslaught of the pink ribbon and here it is. There has been an evolution of sorts as the first year saw a design with the pink ribbon forming the “l” in “Believe.” I wanted very much to believe that things would turn out okay. Last year without a single pink ribbon, I focused on retro designs aimed at getting women in for those annual mammograms, and I have noticed several large purchases and imagine that health educators are behind them.

And now with this year’s design, I hope to offer a message that no matter where we are on our journey, we must continue to live our lives to the fullest each and every day.

Where a Fully-Read Book Might Take You

2008-09-21T09:10:00.002-05:00

If you read yesterday’s post, you will recall that I recently completed reading a book. As a woman who has endured, survived and suffered through way too many changes of late, I see why Joan Anderson’s The Second Journey The Road Back to Yourself caught my eye.

I fully intended to sit in one of Batavia Library’s comfy chairs and read a bit of the book, which I did. However, when it was time to go, I took the slim volume along with me. You see, Joan Anderson had 10 years earlier lived out one of my fantasies when she left her everyday life and spent a year by the sea in a journey to self-discovery. I haven’t read that book, but there is a part of me that wishes I could go off to some isolated natural environment and contemplate exactly what course and direction I want to steer the rest of my life. I don’t suppose younger readers will get this. They are too busy raising families and building careers and time is way too short for this sort of self-indulgent exploration. While time is not endless for them, it is indeed not quite so pressing an issue as it is with the older among us.

It had been 10 years since Anderson wrote her first book, the bestseller A Year by the Sea, and she was again ready to explore how her life was evolving. Anderson writes,

Now, as part of my ten-year inventory, I reflect on what is outlived in my life today. I’ve known for some time that holding on to anything ruins it, as does clinging to old ways, outdated ideals, worn-out relationships, and lifestyles that have run their course. As a culture, we seem to prize permanency. Certainly the familiar is comforting. But the way we were is not the way we are, and why would I want to still have those parts of my life that have lost their zest? Perhaps one of the reasons I felt so compelled to come out here today was actually to witness massive change. None of us can control the way life passes: we can only adapt.

Before writing the second book, Anderson again found herself at what I call loose ends. The first book propelled her into a notoriety of book signings and retreats and a newly found status as a guide or mentor of women seeking self-discovery. By all accounts, she was successful. Yet, her busy life was not all that she desired, and thus, the author set out on the second journey, a journey that this time included a visit to the mystical and remote Scottish Isle of Iona.

Maybe when I write and publish my book, I will be able to jet to my island of self-discovery. She writes:

The call to a second journey usually commences when unexpected change is thrust upon you, causing a crisis of feelings so great that you are stopped in your tracks. Personal events such as a betrayal, a diagnosis of serious illness, the death of a loved one, loss of self-esteem, a fall from power are only a few of the catalysts. A woman caught thusly has no choice but to pause, isolate, even relocate until she can reevaluate the direction in which she should head. Should she stay the course or choose another path?

But alas, many of us inhibit our capacity for growth because the culture encourages us to live lives of uniformity. We stall, deny, ignore the ensuing crisis because of confusion, malaise, and yes, even propriety. Yet more and more, I come in contact with women, particularly in midlife—that uneasy and ill-defined period—who do not want merely to be stagnant but rather desire to be generative. Today’s woman has the urge to go against the prevailing currents, step out of line, and break with a polite society that has her following the unwritten rules of relationship, accepting the abuses of power in the workplace, and blithely living with myriad shoulds when she has her own burgeoning desires.

Anderson’s book got me to thinking anyway. And I actually finished a book. Not too bad for a woman who has endured, survived and suffered through way too many changes of late.

Guilt and the Half-Read Book (Part 1)

2008-09-20T07:22:00.003-05:00

A week or so ago I noticed a link to an article in the Chronicle of Higher Education. “The Pleasure of Half Read Books” caught my attention. I thought to myself, well, at least I have company.

Blaming everything from mega-bookstores like Borders and Barnes & Noble with their coffee shops and comfy chairs to the Internet and Books on Tape (CDs), the author of the article writes,

But if you were to force me to accept responsibility for having given up on reading books to the end, I would trace my habit back to finishing my doctorate in contemporary literature years ago. I realized then that except for books that I might teach or write about, I never had to finish another book unless I wanted to. I wasn’t going to be tested on any book for the rest of my life.

That is as good an explanation as any I know. I have started more books lately than I have finished, but tomorrow I will tell you about one that I did finish. Meanwhile, take William McMillen’s advice,

So don’t despair if you have a half-read book taking up space on your desk. Don't feel guilty about not finishing it just because you are a professor. No one cares, and you shouldn't, either. Just move it over to the bottom shelf of your bookcase and find something new. You’ll feel liberated, trust me.

Whoopi-Do We Are Still Here

2008-09-10T06:12:00.005-05:00

The world's biggest physics experiment has succeeded in its first major test as a beam of protons was successfully fired all the way around a 17-mile tunnel beneath the Swiss-French border. From the AP

You might have caught a bit about the event on the evening news when there was talk that it could possibly cause our planet to implode into a black hole. Something like that—I am not a physics person. Well, it obviously didn’t, and the “end of the worlders” can go back to worrying.

Here in my new hometown of Batavia, we know a thing or two about energy. Batavia was once home to windmill manufacturers and we have windmills all over the place. But the biggest and finest claim for the City of Energy is Fermilab, named for Nobel Prize winner Enrico Fermi, one of the most highly regarded physicists of the atomic age.

I reckon they’re smashing atoms and accelerating and colliding them as well, and so far everything here in Batavia seems to be just fine, and I am sure they will be fine in Geneva (Switzerland, not Illinois' Geneva which is just up the road from Batavia) too. Ahhh! We have escaped another “Chicken Little” scare.

A Tale of Two Nic's

2008-09-06T12:10:00.006-05:00

Mom reports on baby Nic’s CarePages Web site:
“Nic got a special delivery today from Nick Swisher of the White Sox. He signed his name and “D30” on the sentimental blanket we dropped off at the White Sox office and mailed it back to us with a nice note from Swisher, via the community relations dept. We weren’t sure that would happen, but it’s a great keepsake to have from his first baseball season. Not only does Nic share Swisher’s first name, they also have the same fighting spirit. Let’s hope the White Sox carry the season into October for Nic!”

In Chicagoland, you are either a Cubs fan or a White Sox fan. Well, that’s my opinion. It’s kind of like Auburn and Alabama. You can’t really be for both. No way.

When the family attended the recent White Sox game, they took the White Sox blanket that accompanied Nic through heart surgery and asked if Nick Swisher could sign it for Nicolas. Happily, the great White Sox player obliged, and now the littlest White Sox fan has a nice memento.

Go White Sox!

New Kid on the Block Rating Colleges

2008-08-16T10:19:00.004-05:00

Forbes just came out with a challenge to venerable U.S. News & World Report’s annual rankings of colleges and universities. America’s Best Colleges ranks 569 four-year institutions out of approximately 4,000 schools in the country.

My son happens to attend Hendrix College, which ranked #97—not too shabby for a little gem of a private college half-an-hour outside of Little Rock, Arkansas. I wonder though about any methodology that uses RateMyProfessors.com for 25% of the evaluation.

Oh well, what the heck. These beauty contests are what they are—just one tool to look at in the college-selection process. If your son or daughter is beginning the process, look up some parents whose students currently attend potential schools, have your student visit the campuses and sit in on some classes.

I had a Cincinnati mom write me asking about Hendrix College and I gave her my honest opinion, and my son blasted the college’s overbooked housing situation in the e-mail he sent. Word of mouth is just as valuable as these rankings.

More later after next weekend’s sojourn to Razorback Land. College Boy will be setting up housekeeping in an apartment. Are sophomores really equipped for this level of responsibility? Ah, the worries of helicopter parents.

The Littlest White Sox Fan

2008-08-14T07:05:00.003-05:00

Baby Nic is probably the littlest Chicago White Sox fan, and today he and his mom and dad will be at the game when the Sox play the Kansas City Royals. Nic is a lot like the White Sox team. He hasn’t given up when down and he has spunk and spirit unmatched.

Back in February when Nic entered this world months earlier than expected, all who have come to love him hoped for the day when his day-to-day world would not revolve around doctors, tubes and machines.

Finally, after heart surgery, EEGs, EKGs, feeding tubes, respirators, heart and breathing monitors and other invasive procedures, little Nic will be a boy attending his first baseball game with his mom and dad. It doesn't get much better than this.

Three Little Piggy Quotes

2008-08-12T06:33:00.003-05:00

I don’t know if these quotes were really said by those to whom they are attributed, but I like them.

Thou shall not kill. Thou shall not commit adultery. Don’t eat pork. I’m sorry, what was that last one? Don’t eat pork. God has spoken. Is that the word of God or is that pigs trying to outsmart everybody? - Jon Stewart

You can put wings on a pig, but you don’t make it an eagle. - Bill Clinton

You should never try and teach a pig to read for two reasons. First, it’s impossible; and secondly, it annoys the hell out of the pig! - Will Rogers

Note: the artwork is available for purchase.

A Higher Standard

2008-08-09T11:35:00.005-05:00

I supported John Edwards before I turned to Barack Obama. I find news that the rumors of his affair were indeed accurate no huge surprise. He scripted a story for his ambitious campaign and followed it until he had no out but to say the National Enquirer got it right. Apparently, he even fooled some of his campaign staff, who insisted the NE was just engaging in cheap tabloid journalism. While exiting the political arena, Edwards fired a bit of a salvo in John McCain's direction when he mentioned McCain's own marital history.

But I don’t think John McCain will touch this story with a 10-foot-pole, since the war-hero returned home and found the wife he had left behind changed. The first Mrs. McCain, once a swimsuit model, had been in a terrible car crash and was disfigured. Accounts differ, but the marriage ended. From UK’s The Mail:

Carol insists she remains on good terms with her ex-husband, who agreed as part of their divorce settlement to pay her medical costs for life. ‘I have no bitterness,’ she says. ‘My accident is well recorded. I had 23 operations, I am five inches shorter than I used to be and I was in hospital for six months. It was just awful, but it wasn’t the reason for my divorce. ‘My marriage ended because John McCain didn’t want to be 40, he wanted to be 25. You know that happens...it just does.’

According to Carol McCain, McCain married Cindy a month after their divorce was final.

Sen. McCain is not quick to give much detail on this part of his life, preferring instead to emphasize the scripted version. It was a long time ago and I don’t blame him.

However, I find myself asking what matters in determining a politician’s character. Are our ties to Puritan forefathers and mothers too tight? Is there a new standard? Or a politicians’ standard (lower of course)? How are we to regard flaws of a moral nature? Every time a public figure admits to a transgression of Edwards’ nature, I wonder.

Yet, I recognize a politician who strays can still be an effective leader. I guess I just wish the politicians would realize that we are looking to them to be better. You are choosing this course. How can you think every rock will not be overturned in your public life as well as your private life? And y'all, please stop being so family values preachy if you do have these extramarital skeletons rattling around in your political closets.

Oh You Great Big Beautiful Doll

2008-08-07T06:42:00.009-05:00

Some poll says people are tired of hearing about Obama. Maybe the media will take the hint and give us a break. I am for Obama, but I do not think I can stomach one more silly story about that ditzy Tyra Banks modeling as Mrs. O in Harper's Bazaar. On the plus side, it does give more fodder to E's Talk Soup and that cute and talented Joel McHale.

Even Dover Publications paper dolls are getting into the spirit of hype. They have new additions to their paper doll collection with offerings of Barack Obama and John McCain. I don't know, but I think the artist captured John McCain's rod up his back stiffness. Barack's likeness looks okay, but Mrs. O looks like a Stepford Wife.

The Answer

2008-08-05T06:49:00.004-05:00

On August 1 two teenage boys found the remains of Sheila Joan Noblitt over six years after she disappeared one cold January day in 2002. It looks like she died from exposure.

I became acquainted with the case after writing about what happens when you Google your name. I heard back from a detective handling the case and from one of Joan’s relatives.

To the Noblitt family, I am sorry for your loss. We do not know each other, but I can only imagine how hard these last six and a half years have been wondering what fate befell Sheila Joan. May you find this closure as sad as it is, brings peace.

note: link to earlier post.

Health, Insurance and Calling Dr. Kildare

2008-08-03T09:55:00.007-05:00

A few days after sending in a hefty check for COBRA (Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act) coverage, I pour over the differences between choosing a PPO or an HMO. I have a new job, and I must choose health insurance coverage. I long for the days of Dr. Kildare and Marcus Welby, M.D. Things were so much simpler then.

As I look at papers, more acronyms like HIPPA (Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act) jump at me. I will have to call the benefits administrator to see if there is an exclusion for pre-existing health conditions like my Big C. Since I have had no gaps in coverage, I should be okay on this front.

Additionally, with a million dollar baby in the family, I watch my son and daughter-in-law struggle with insurance issues each day. A preemie born as early as baby Nicolas soon becomes a veteran health care consumer.

So, I do not know on what planet those who think everything is hunky-dorky with health care in the U.S. happen to be living. It certainly isn’t the one I’m on.

I don’t know if one politician can do anything to move America on this front and help bring much-needed reform in this area, but I damn sure don’t think John McCain, the so-called maverick Republican, can. I will give my vote to Barack Obama and hope he is a man of his word about working across party lines to bring this change.

It’s a real challenge to fight the influence of corporations and organizations with payrolls full of former politician- and backslapper-lobbyists, but I am putting some of what little money I have left after paying for my health insurance on Obama.

Pop Culture Note: Photos: 1) From Calling Dr. Kildare with Lew Ayres as Dr. Kildare and the great Lionel Barrymore as Dr. Gillespie. I had no idea there were so many Dr. Kildare movies in the late 30s and early 40s. I believe there were 10 with Lew Ayres and Barrymore continued with a few more movies as Dr. Gillespie after Ayres went off to war (as a conscientious objector who served in the Medical Corps). 2) TV’s dreamy Dr. Kildare portrayed by Richard Chamberlain is the Dr. Kildare I grew up loving.

Christmas in July

2008-07-27T06:43:00.005-05:00

I hardly ever mention that I offer some of my designs on CafePress, but it struck me odd that someone would be buying this yard sign in July. Maybe she is like my mom was--always thinking ahead. Mom would scout out bargains all year long so that by the time Thanksgiving rolled around she was done with her shopping. While I am my mother's daughter, I never caught the shopping bug. Just give me the ease of online shopping and I am one happy camper.

Little Pleasures

2008-07-25T06:10:00.003-05:00

New grandmas are apt to go overboard. How can you walk into a department store without seeing something just too cute to pass up? I steadfastly assert that I am not yet one of THOSE new grandmas.

My latest purchase was only $5 and it was for a good cause too. The other day while paying for some socks, I noticed the Kohl’s Cares for Kids books and plush animals near the checkout registers. Kohl’s says it donates all of the net profits to organizations working with health and education programs for children. Eric Carle’s “Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You Hear?” caught my eye. Carle, illustrator of the classic, “The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” creates wonderfully bright and charming tissue paper collages.

Depending on your age, you probably grew up with Carle’s books or bought them for your children or grandchildren or as baby gifts. My son still has his tattered copy, which has now been passed along to the newest family member, Nicolas.

So, this little hardback became the latest addition to Nic’s blossoming library. You would imagine a family of writers would love books, wouldn’t you? I don’t know if Nicolas will be a writer or set out on his own course, but so far, this little guy has had one incredible journey. For now, his parents are telling his story on their new blog, Illinois Preemie. Later, Nic, Grandma Sheila expects to hear from you.

For a while I fell off the face of the earth

2008-07-18T13:41:00.008-05:00

I landed in Batavia, Illinois, a far-far western suburb of Chicago. Long-time readers might be curious about this journey, but for now, I intend to be discrete and mysterious about my detour along life’s pathways.

My new home, a quaint little town clustered along the Fox River, captured my eye immediately when I first drove into the downtown central business district. Yes, there is still a thriving downtown here, not yet lost to the strip-shopping centers which populate west Batavia along Randal Road where every manner of chain store or restaurant is at your beck and call. The mayor wrote this about his town, “Batavia in some ways looks like a town that time has left alone.” This part of the Fox River Valley is lovely, and I am no stranger to the river having once lived in a Craftsman-style house overlooking the Fox for a short time in Appleton, Wisconsin.

While Batavia is doing a fine job of straddling old and new, I found her charm immediately apparent with tree-lined streets of homes ranging from Victorian painted ladies to one classic Frank Lloyd Wright home. I can walk to my insurance agent, bank, pharmacy, coffee shop, and library.

The library features a mural of the art accompanying this post--John Philip Falter's "Fox River Ice-Skating," which was the Saturday Evening Post cover for Jan. 11, 1958. In the upper right corner, you can see the Challenge Windmill Factory, another Batavia landmark. Batavia dubs itself “The City of Energy,” a right fine tagline since it served as home to five windmill factories during its early years, and it has been the home of Fermi National Accelerator Laboratory (Fermilab) for more than 40 years.

Well, that’s a short introduction to my new hometown. More later but don't expect me to write about ice-skating on the Fox River or anywhere for that matter.

Gone Fishin'

2008-04-28T18:27:00.003-05:00

Dear Gentle Longtime Readers:
I haven't been posting as much lately. You see, I have a new distraction: a new job. I will eventually get back to posting on a semi-regular basis, but I will mostly check in on my favorite blogs when I have a little extra time. But, I will still surround myself with words since the job entails a boatload of them. Happy blogging!