Syuusan

I found Susan Babchick! What a doll. She's been living in London for I-don't-know-how-long and is married and looking fabulous. Susan (or Susie now, those Brits absolutely must make an YYY sound at the end of everything: Breaky? Chocky?) is one of the most fun people ever. Loving, positive, silly and sweet. She is the girl who always smiled when she talked and I swear her lips never touched. I am thrilled to find her and to be in touch.

Cutlass Supreme

Lego pirate
Originally uploaded by Ginger DJ

Emery has a tiny Lego Pirate and the pirate has a sword. But Emery ALWAYS refers to this particular sword as a cutlass. I looked up cutlass and I found: a heavy, slightly curved sword with a single cutting edge formerly used by sailors on warships.

And he's always called it that as far back as I can remember. If I ever say sword, as in, "where is his sword?", Emery will say, "You mean his cutlass?"

Supine Cycle

Belinky recumbent -- Viewpoint
Originally uploaded by Tandem Guy

Today Doug and I saw a couple on a bike just like this. As we passed them in the car, Doug casually said, "we'd make it about 2 blocks on one of those things." He said, "We'd start to argue or I would be pedaling too fast for you and you'd get frustrated..."

We got hysterical. We said we should, like, make a list of What Not To Do If You Are Paige and Doug. I literally felt my driving was impaired because I was laughing so hard. It's just so much not us to be decked out in spandex on any kind of bicycle, much less recumbent, built for two bicycles.

Funny Wilbur

So, Wilbur had this staph infection on his thumb and we took him to the doctor and got prescription ointment for it and it's healing, but, the nail is going to come off. So, we've been watching his thumbnail for weeks now and it's lifting and lifting and about to come off.

Early this morning both boys came in our room and I told them to go get back in bed that they would be fine. And Wilbur does what he often does when he is asked to just 'go to sleep' or 'go to bed' - which is not his routine. [I could digress into the routine - pee, brush teeth, clothes off, head on mommy's lap, read book, drink milk, fall asleep.] He cried. So he got in bed with me and Doug went with Emery.

Fast forward to this morning. Wilbur is stroking my hair ever-so-gently, trying to get me to wake up. I say, "Let me see your thumb." I examine the thumb like I always do and talk about how that nail is going to come off... blah blah blah. And there is this long pause and he's grinning at me and then he says, "Now, let's see your fumb"

I just wonder what he thinks about us examining his thumb all the time. This little interchange today made me think he doesn't really see it the way we see it - the looking at the thumb and checking the infection. I got the distinct impression he just thinks we have an inordinate interest in that one digit. So, he would reciprocate and give my thumb a lot of attention too.

Quesadilla? What's Happening?

So, my This American Life podcast were these very interesting stories about obscure myths that we carry into adulthood - things too obscure to ask about or question; things that come up so rarely that we just keep believing the odd construct we came up with to explain them; and then what happens when we finally have the opportunity to say them out loud. For example, the producer of the piece had heard the phrase 'Nielsen Family' or 'Nielsen Rating' when he was 10 or 11 and he made up this logic in his mind that people named Nielsen must be a representative cross-section of average Americans, thus families named Nielsen got to rate television programs. It was only in his 30s that this phrase came up in conversation with another adult and the producer said something to his friend like, "Isn't it odd that they're all named Nielsen?" In each of the stories, this accidental confession is followed by a long awkward pause while the person hearing this crazy logic (which has been living in the speaker's head since childhood) absorbs and deconstructs how in the world the speaker could have arrived at such a conclusion.

One guy had always thought that Quesadilla was Spanish for "What's happening?"

I have one of these and it involves the song Oh Christmas Tree.

The opening of the story contained a phrase that I'll use again and again. Two people traveling in Europe were touristing and commenting on the architecture wherever they were. One of them said that there seemed to be a 'Moorish' influence and then they wandered further and further into Moorish influences and what was Moorish about the structure, etc., and suddenly they realized they had no idea what they were even talking about. One of them said that they sounded like some kind of magazine. A magazine called Modern Jackass.

Regret Reverie

I recently saw Janis Ian performing on the very first Saturday Night Live, hosted by George Carlin. Doug and I sat in stunned, awesome silence as we watched this tiny person literally mesmerize us with her song and her depth of feeling. It's lost the element of surprise but each time I watch her I get a lump in my throat.

Peptic and Gastric

So, I have an ulcer. Confirmed by an upper endoscopy. It's funny how I can trace my history of stress to my gut. That's where it settles and pains and wakes me up. This time it's from ingesting too much non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. I know why I ingest too many and I can say it's the fault of the evil insurance industry, which is why we should all vote democrat so we can straighten out this mess once and for all.

I have 2 kinds of headaches: tension and migraine. Sometimes what begins as a tension headache will mutate into a full-blown migraine. But, I only get enough migraine medication (Relpax) for 3 headaches per month. I could purchase more, that wouldn't be covered, but there's no generic and each pill is like 1,000 bucks (not really, but almost). So, when I get a tension headache or eye strain, I often pop excedrin to knock it out so that I can keep from wasting my migraine pills.

And that's how it has happened. I've taken too much over time and now I have an ulcer.

I knew something was wrong so, frankly, I was glad for them to confirm it with something real after the upper endoscopy last week. I don't have h. pylori (the bacteria which often causes ulcers) and the biopsy was normal.

I will have to walk away from the computer and stretch or relax or prostrate myself on the floor of my office to relieve stress and tension and eye strain. Or I'll go for a walk. But I can't put all those drugs in this almost-42-year-old body because she can't take it anymore...

Amory Oliver

debutantes
Originally uploaded by Millie Motts

When I was growing up in San Antonio one of the things my mother thought one DID was to go to dancing school in the 6Th grade.

This wasn't ballet or tap (which I did from the age of 5), it was ballroom. And it wasn't merely learning the fox trot and it certainly was NEVER some kind of prep for a competition! No. This could have been called 'social graces' because what we did was learn fox trot, waltz, samba AND we learned the rules of cutting in, escorting a girl back to her chair, what to wear, how to get punch from the punch table, what to eat and what not to eat: a way of being that has clearly disappeared.

And the place everyone went to learn these things was Amory Oliver's in Alamo Heights. Alamo Heights (even way back then we all called it 09 for its zip code, 78209) was where old money resided in San Antonio, and Miss Oliver's studio was there. It was dilapidated in a genteel way. We all got dressed up every week as if we were going to Cotillion or coming out. I think I even wore white gloves.

This was one of the things you did to become a decent and social human being.

I was thinking about this over the weekend. How I'd like to find a place for Emery and Wilbur to take the same kind of lessons. I wonder if it even exists. I thought, it's a faded life that kind of social grace. I won't give up on it though! After all, if I pass it down to my boys then there are two more souls in the world who know how to lightly tap on the shoulder of a boy when he'd like to dance with the girl that young man is waltzing.

And then that boy will punch Emery or Wilbur in the nose.

Well, we'll try anyway...

Weekend Breakfasting...

we had so much fun. Got Wilbur all dressed up in his t-ball uniform and took him to get his picture made. Then went to breakfast. Very good morning.

Pliable and Blonde

http://hmsmedia.com/barhart.html

This is so excellent. It's godfather Mike in that yet-another-reality-show gimmick piece called the search for Elle Woods - or some such nonsense. He is fabulous!

Church Bulletins

I got these from the Marianne Williamson website. These are excerpts from church bulletins and they made me cry with laughter...

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The Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals.
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The sermon this morning: "Jesus Walks on the Water." The sermon tonight:"Searching for Jesus."
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Our youth basketball team is back in action Wednesday at 8 PM in the recreation hall. Come out and watch us kill Christ the King.
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Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.
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The peacemaking meeting scheduled for today has been canceled due to a conflict.
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Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community. Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say "Hell" to someone who doesn't care much about you.
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Don't let worry kill you off -- let the Church help.
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Miss Charlene Mason sang "I will not pass this way again," giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.
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For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have a nursery downstairs.
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Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.
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The Rector will preach his farewell message after which the choir will sing:"Break Forth Into Joy."
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Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.
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A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall. Music will follow.
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At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What Is Hell?" Come early and listen to our choir practice.
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Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.
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Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.
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Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered.
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The church will host an evening of fine dining, super entertainment and gracious hostility.
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Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 PM - prayer and medication to follow.
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The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.
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This evening at 7 PM there will be a hymn singing in the park across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.
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Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10 AM. All ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B. S. is done.
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The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the congregation would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday.
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Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.
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The eighth-graders will be presenting Shakespeare's Hamlet in the Church basement Friday at 7 PM. The congregation is invited to attend this tragedy.
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Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.

Happy Birthday to Mother

People always think it's funny that I call my mother Mother. It sounds overly formal to them - but it sounds loving to me. They are always Mother and Daddy because that's what my mother called her parents. Today is my mother's 70th birthday. Wow. It's hard to believe.

My mother has always done things the way they were supposed to be done. She followed protocol and stayed within the rules. And as much as that annoyed me as a teenager and even a 20-something person, today I find great comfort in that. Isn't life funny?

My mother always wore the right things, was svelte and petite, always had her hair coiffed, always RSVP'd, never arrived late, always looked effortlessly pretty, never missed her hair appointment, had her clothes made by a seamstress in Ft. Worth during her youth, always worked, was never lazy, wouldn't have us running around town looking like Ragamuffins, always went to church on Sunday, had a bag and shoes that matched - and a sensible bag, had fabulous costume jewelry during my youth, loved to travel, loved her family.

My mother taught school for 38 years, thus when we were growing up, she was off when we were off from school. Every summer she planned all these cultural excursions, a small sampling of them: going to the LBJ Presidential Library in Austin, The McNay Art Museum in SA, Visiting various courthouses, the Hertzberg Circus Collection, Hemisphere Plaza (and eating at the restaurant at the top where my brother asked, "What are creeps?" when he saw Crepes on the menu), eating a very fancy lunch at La Louisiane - a fabulous and very expensive french restaurant in San Antonio, and many more.

My mother often says that she isn't sure where I got my passion for voluntarism, but that's silly, I got it from her. It comes from all her teaching about citizenship and her expectation that we would participate in our community as good citizens, however we expressed that. My mother showed us, summer after summer, that we were to go to these public places and we were to be cognizant of what went on in them - courthouse or museum - we were part of the community and we should be engaged and informed. She didn't say that in words, but she did it, by hauling us all over creation when we could have easily gone the country club and sat by the pool.

Being a mother myself now, I understand the passion she had for teaching us because working up that kind of gumption and energy to instruct us after getting a break from teaching and working herself was a feat. I didn't really understand that until I had children of my own and the desire to do nothing - to send them out into the backyard or let them watch a program - is pretty overwhelming. No, my mother was bound and determined to mold us and bring us up as Citizens and I am so grateful to her.

Today is Mother's 70th birthday, as I wrote. And I put together a book of old pictures and memories from her life... Pictures of the house where she grew up and the house in San Antonio where I grew up that I was able to pull of google earth. Technology is cool. I hope she loves it and I want her to know what a rich and fabulous life she made for us and what a great mother she is.

So, a very happy birthday to the woman who is the mother I'd like to be.

xoxo

This is Granny and Poppa, they look so smart, as my grandmother would say.

Magic Time

We are in such a magical time right now with our children. They are old enough to take on some real responsibility and yet young enough to crave time with us. It's hard to imagine them NOT craving that with us and yet I know that they will when the teenage years hit. There are times when their neediness is overwhelming. And when it is, I try to picture how it will be when they want to make all their own decisions without consulting us.

Right now though, it's magic time.

Look, there's God coming out of the men's room...

Sex with you is really a Kafka-esque experience.

Aging Gracefully?

So all year I've been saying I am 40. Listen to me: "Well, you know now that I'm 40...". Or "being 40 is great - I loved my 30s so much more than my 20s so it would follow that 40 would be even better". And, "how old are you Mrs. Armentrout?". "I'm 40."

So on the phone the other day I say something like that to my mother and my mother says, Paige, you're 41...

I had to count it in my head - so convinced was I that she was absolutely wrong.

Wow. I lied for the better part of a year. I think maybe being 40 wasn't such a big deal but wading on into the 40s wasn't as palatable.

Now I'm almost 42. I think that sounds better anyway.

From our Father's Day

We gave him framed art from Em with a poem about a firefly (I'll post later) which is very cool. Wilbur wrote him a note (that his teacher transcribed) saying, "I love you at home. You gave me a red balloon at red robin." I gave him a briefcase and a wallet.

Come and Play, Everything's A-OK...

Sesame Street Stoop
Originally uploaded by Aaron's Lawn Gnome

Did you know that they've changed the opening of Sesame Street? I don't know why this makes we want and need to join the Woodinville or Seattle Historical Society to say "You Can't Tear that House Downnnnn!!!" but, that's what it makes me want to do!

Changing the opening music? I didn't even realize it until I had heard it for a few days. Every morning I turn on the TV at 7 am (shut up about my lousy parenting, it works) and that gets Wilbur out of bed to watch Sesame Street. So, imagine that I hear the new music but I delude myself. I tell myself that I don't hear rap. And if I do, it's only some figment of my imagination - I just got up, after all, and I haven't had my coffee yet. Then, even though I know that they've changed the music, I ignore it. The opening of Sesame Street has been the same since 1968. We can all sing it:

Sunny day - Sweepin’ the clouds away,
On my way to where the air is sweet.
Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street.

Come and play, everything’s A-OK
Friendly neighbors there that’s where we meet
Can you tell me how to get
How to get to Sesame Street



But now, it's a rap. It's not Sunny Day... It's sad

Clay Jenkinson on Facebook!

Ok, I am a nerdy fan. I found Clay Jenkinson on Facebook, the man who portrays Thomas Jefferson all over the country. We saw him on Washington Public Access - he was appearing in Tacoma and had been brought in by the Rotarians there. He is amazing. He 'enlightens' Doug and me and reminds us of all the fabulous Jeffersonian ideas that, while claimed by the republican party often, now sound much more like Democratic ideals. We LOOOOOOVE him.

Girl Dreams

Dream Away Little Girl
Originally uploaded by kruus

I hadn't even planned to watch it. I thought, 'it's over and we can move on to the convention and then November...' I certainly didn't feel sad. But there I was, watching her come into that hall and watching her steely resolve while she must be crestfallen, speaking to the crowd, conciliatory and gracious; tears rolling down my face and sobs forcing their way out of my throat. Why? Why was I crying?

Hillary Rodham Clinton is a polemic (not necessarily her fault) but her campaign, irrespective of the result, was historic. I realized today just how important it was in the context of my life. So many of us are marginalized in some way, but we assume that women have really come a long way and that our needs and dreams aren't civil rights issues. As I sat on our couch crying, touched by the speech and her inner strength, I knew we hadn't come all that far until Hillary started winning states and mounting a campaign that we all took seriously. Smoking our own brand of cigarettes in public just isn't going to cut it, Virginia. I won't consider us a long way there until a woman is in the oval office.

Hillary put to rest that notion that we might not be tough enough, might not have the thick skin or the stamina to go it all the way in this man's business of politics. But she's a shrewd cookie and she has more grit and determination than any man I've seen. To dish it out and to take it is quite an accomplishment.

So, here's to Hillary. She's a game girl and a good egg and I wept today as she showed her strength for all of us. We can dream the dream. Yes, Virginia, there is a chance.

Good!

Turned-over SUV (2)
Originally uploaded by Kim Scarborough

http://usnews.rankingsandreviews.com/cars-trucks/daily-news/080604-General-Motors-Others-Decide-the-SUV-is-Dead/


When I see someone driving some huge hummer, Denali, Expedition or other some such foolish car I honestly think, "what a fool."


What a fool for contributing the ruin of our environment. What a fool for not seeing the handwriting on the wall at the beginning of the Iraq war (when we downsized our vehicles, knowing that gas would go sky-high). What a fool for indulging in excess. What a fool for being out of the loop and behind the times.

And what's more, I wonder how many of the jumbo vehicles I see driving around are leased.


What fools.

Do I get to ride a high horse about such matters? Is it really any of my business? Well yes I say. Because we are all connected. And if a whole bunch of fools in our community - society - country decide to be reckless with money and as indulgent of their whims as petulant children, paying no mind to what they can actually afford and heeding not the affects of their consumerism, guess who pays? Yes, even those of us who've been frugal and intentional for years and years will pay for their short-sightedness.


I have all kinds of empathy for people who live responsibly and ethically and yet find themselves in a pickle. But woe to the idiot glutton who awakens one day to his destructive ways only because of his personal pain.