Pinch Me

In an attempt to make it more fun around here I found a few games to put under the tree.

Anna got Connect 4, which proved surprisingly popular with both girls. Not to mention their Dad.

Katie got Boggle -- pronounced "boring" until I talked them into actually playing the game with me.

We played round after round as the snow fell quietly outside.

This is not a fantasy.

Impressions of Insomnia

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night/wee hours of the morning and cannot get back to sleep.

It happened this morning.

And even though it is my favorite time to clean, what I usually do is catch up on computer work. Because any noise I make could wake up the kids. And we don't want that.

One time when I couldn't sleep I went to the gym. In case you are wondering, there's not much going on at the gym at 4 am. No competition for the equipment at all. It feels weird. You park alone. You have to ring a bell to be let in. You walk down an empty hallway and up stairs, pushing aside thoughts of how it is the perfect time for nefarious plots to unfold...

...this is why I don't watch scary movies or TV shows. Or creepy ads for either. And have you ever noticed that The Twilight Zone is on a lot in the middle of the night? Freaky.

Sometimes my insomnia bouts take hold and last for days. Or weeks. Not so much anymore, but it happened on my mission once right as I was training my first greenie. She was a real firecracker. I was sleep-deprived.

I'm pretty sure she thought I was a slacker because, among other things, I couldn't always shake myself awake after two or three hours of sleep. It's not like I slept 'til noon. Or even eight. But I remember one day I went into the kitchen for companionship study a half hour late to find that she'd already done it by herself (couldn't flip her schedule and do personal study first?) and that now she was going to shower and do her hair.

That was rough. She did have really nice hair.

The second greenie I had was polar opposite -- she wanted to sleep all the time. I let her nap while I made lunch, like my trainer had done for me. That first month I was so tired. Jet lag without recovery and a constant barrage of all things foreign wore me out.

At a dinner appointment my first week I fought to keep my eyes open and at some point became aware that I had briefly nodded off over my soup.

I don't think the family noticed, but I'm pretty sure my trainer did. She didn't say anything.

There was one member of the branch who picked up on my general stupor. To be fair, he spoke really fast and kind of slurred his words and was legitimately harder to understand than most people. I distinctly recall the sensation of having a three-second delay in my head. I would eventually catch the gist of what he said, but even that took a moment to register.

This man thought I was stupid. I remember him coming up to us one Sunday, ripping off a stream of supersonic Italian to my companion and then looking over at me and questioning my mental or language ability. Maybe both.

After my first month in Italy I was inner-city transferred. Then again my second month. And then again. So although I had lived in the same apartment for months, I was on my third area and companionship when transfers came around and I got the news I was being transferred once again. This time I was returning to my original area. Three areas and four companionships in five months equals a lot of... learning opportunities.

After bouncing around the city most of the summer, that first area where I had mostly just followed my trainer felt sort of familiar, but it was almost like being some place new.

Also new was the discovery of how much my Italian had improved.The ward member who doubted me still spoke really fast. Still mushed out his words. To my immense satisfaction, I could understand him and appropriately respond without the tape-delay. After so many changes, this was a good one.

Of course, he continued to speak to me like I was mentally slow for the entire month.

I like to think that if I had had a second chance with my firecracker greenie things would have been different. Not even counting the insomnia, my time with her came at one of the hardest points in my mission. Still, I could have handled things better. Or at least differently.

I still have regrets.

But they don't keep me up at night.

Toffee Meringues

Each year when the Dallas Morning News publishes the result of its cookie contest I check out the winners, think about trying a few, and then toss the paper.

Only, this year I actually tried one of the winning recipes. And it is fabulous, dahling. Easy. Gluten free. 40 Calories.

Did I mention easy? These are a cinch to whip up. The only catch is you have to leave them in the oven for an hour after their baking time, so that's it for baking for a while.

Of course, it also means you can walk away for an hour (or more, really) without worry. I doubled the recipe and squeezed the whole batch onto three sheets. I have a convection now (joy!) so I can do that kind of thing.

The first time I made these John said they were the best meringues he's ever had. The second time I made them he said they are one of the best cookies he's ever had.

They're not exactly pretty, but their light texture and color provide a nice contrast to more traditional cookies on a buffet or goodie plate. So just try them.

Here is the recipe:

Toffee Meringue Drops
3 egg whites, at room temperature
1/8 tsp. cream of tartar
1/2 c. sugar
1/2 c. finely chopped toasted pecans
1/2 c. English toffee bits (sold next to chocolate chips)

Preheat oven to 250 F. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper.
In large bowl, beat egg whites and cream of tartar on medium speed until soft peacks form.
Gradually add the sugar, one tablespoon at a time, beating on high until stiff, glossy peaks form and the sugar is dissolved, about 6 minutes.
Gently fold in the nuts and toffee bits.
Drop by tablespoon 2 inches apart onto the lined cookie sheets.
Bake 25-30 minutes, until set and dry. Turn off the oven and leave the cookies in for 1 hour, to finish drying.
Remove sheets from oven and continue to cool on wire racks.
Store in an airtight container.
Makes 2 dozen (or more).

FYI, Dolores Massey of Wills Point submitted this cookie to the contest. Thanks, Dolores!

Fifteen Years

That's how long I've been a Mrs.

And despite my disinclination to public displays of loverly affection I thought I'd share a few of the reasons John Cliff got me to marry him, even without an official proposal.

He hates it when I say that...

Back in olden times, when I was a young woman in the Laurel class at church we made a list of qualities we'd like in our future spouse. I'm not sure why this activity made me wince, but it did and still does. I did it anyway (and I think I've inflicted it on similarly enthusiastic young ladies). Sorry.

Anyway, fast forward several years, a mission to Italy and tossed ring later and I'm engaged. At some point I came across that list and was not wholly surprised to see John in nearly every point, right down to "blue-green eyes and dark hair."

Eerie. But nice.

Which is the number one reason I married John: he is nice. He knows who my friends are and actually talks to them when they call or stop by. He likes my family.

He likes movies with stupid guy humor that make me crazy. He goes to those movies alone but will come see a chick flick with me.

He likes Indian food. He makes lasagna with bechamel for me.

He is smart. And cute. And funny.

He laughs at my dorky jokes. He makes dorkier jokes and knows it. He starts hollering like a maniac before the roller coaster even moves, just for fun.

He is equally comfortable in theme parks and museums. He doesn't mind touring historic houses. He likes beautiful things.

He thinks I'm beautiful.

Happy Anniversary...

Instead of Cleaning

This morning I spent some time printing out the little quarter-sheet Cliff Notes that will accompany our plain and boring Christmas cards. I used vellum, so I had to feed them into the printer slowly and monitor their progress because it has a tendency to slip and smear.

I needed to pick up the house, do laundry, and work on the MFPs (most filthy places)so I could get started on holiday baking for friends and neighbors and school staff before Friday.

While nursing the vellum I poked around my favorite blogs, grateful to have uninterrupted time in the office and pleased with the new cushy chair in front of the computer. I eventually found myself captivated by the story of plane crash survivor Stephanie Nielson, beautifully written by Jaimee Rose for an Arizona newspaper. And I couldn't stop reading.

I cried as I read how her daughter couldn't look at her scarred face in the hospital. How, once home, she bargained with this most-precious little girl to try, maybe only look at her toe today.

How she watched her little boy cling to his aunt and cry for "Mom" to come back when her sister left.

How slowly things began to heal.

I read of her pain, frustration, anger, and joy. How she marked the anniversary of her plane crash by painfully hiking Y mountain... in large to show her children she could do it. I joyed in her victory, and sorrowed for the long road of healing she still has ahead of her.

And I felt pretty small, worrying about my plain Christmas cards.

And MFPs.

And cookies.

But I also felt overwhelming gratitude for my children and the blessing to care for them in a body that is far from perfect, but whole.

You can read her story here.

Doctor Who? or Embrace Your Inner Nerd

Does anyone else watch Doctor Who on BBC America? The new doctor is really cute. I mean cool.

Except he is not going to be the new doctor much longer. Three little episodes left, and then - poof - it's regeneration time and some other actor will step into his time-and-space-traveling shoes.

Are you still with me?

I've checked out the next new doctor online and must say I am skeptical. I don't love the new logo, either, despite it's clever Tardisness.

But considering I only began watching Doctor Who last year, I'm not on very firm ground when it comes to expressing opinions about the show. It's older than I am.

The current, tenth, doctor (David Tennant) is the only one I've really watched. I have vague memories of fourth doctor Tom Baker and the ridiculous scarf, so I guess my Dad was a fan.

From what I gather, these two doctors are the favorites. Who knew?

Tee hee.

Anyway, you can find all you need to know about Doctor Who and then some here. Poke around a bit and see what you learn. I especially enjoy the invitation to "join the Whoniverse."

Might as well sign up for a Trek conference...

Yep, I'm Old

Last week I turned forty.

That's how old I am. Not that 40 is old.

But you know what I mean.

Difficult

Thanksgiving is a wonderful prelude to the Christmas season(which begins the day after Thanksgiving, thank you very much now go turn off your Christmas lights).

This week we give thanks for blessings. I have decided to work on being thankful for people in my life -- only I don't mean the people who bless me with their love, support, friendship, or example. They're the easy ones. I'm talking about the difficult people.

You know what I mean.

I hope you know what I mean.

I like people. But sometimes they bug me. Which of course really means I choose to be bugged. Whatever.

Okay, I know it's me. True, there are weird personality quirks that can get on anyone's nerves. But usually it's just me judging someone else's behavior.

There. The ugly truth is out there for everyone to read on my blog. Please be kind.

I probably don't mean you, anyway.

Anyway, to complete this unattractive portrait of myself, here are some of my sweet thoughts:
Why does he/she do that? Doesn't she know it is hurtful?
Why can't he/she just play nice?
Everyone is busy.
If they don't like the way it was done, why don't they give it a try?
I would have done that sooner/faster/simpler.

See the irony in those last two?

I've noticed that these gems get directed to people "who should know better." Because some people get a pass. You know how someone who is having a hard time or has been through a lot often gets the benefit of the doubt? It could be sickness / financial trouble / relationship issues / emotional stress, etc.

Does this sound familiar? I hope so. It would make me feel better.

Of course, the giant beam-in-my-eye flaw in this reasoning -- beyond the fact that it not my place to jugdge -- is how do I know what someone else's life is like?

In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see...

I should know better.

I'm working on it.

Chocolate Idiot Cake

Looking for a rich chocolate concoction to throw into the traditional Thanksgiving mix? Are you gluten-free?

Try this cake. You'd be an idiot not to.

Actually, the name refers to the fact that even an idiot could not screw it up. I have to agree, because one time I forgot to cover it with foil before baking (pretty major oversight) and it still turned out delicious. Closer to a brownie than the truffle-like ganachey goodness it normally is, but still really good.

When I make this cake I like to take a small round cookie cutter (from my set of graduated round cutters) and cut idiot cake buttons. Because it is so fudgy and rich you don't need an entire slice.

Really.

I sometimes sift powdered sugar onto the buttons, just to make them look pretty. For a party one time I piped a blob of whipped cream onto them and topped it with a raspberry. Yum.

You can read all about the idiot cake from the man behind it, David Leibovitz, here.

He recommends using fancy-pants chocolate in this cake but I follow America's Test Kitchen suggestion to use Hershey's Special Dark as your go-to baking chocolate (ubiquitous and surprisingly good quality) and have never been sorry.

Here is the recipe:

Chocolate Idiot Cake
One 9-inch (23 cm) cake
10 ounces (290 g) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
7 ounces (200 g) butter, salted or unsalted, cut into pieces
5 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup (200 g) sugar

Preheat the oven to 350F (175C).

1. Butter a 9-inch (23 cm) springform pan and dust it with cocoa powder, tapping out any excess. If you suspect your springform pan isn't 100% water-tight, wrap the outside with aluminum foil, making sure it goes all the way up to the outer rim.

2. Melt the chocolate and butter in a double boiler (or microwave), stirring occasionally, until smooth. Remove from heat.

3. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs and sugar, then whisk in the melted chocolate mixture until smooth.

4. Pour the batter into the prepared springform pan and cover the top of the pan snugly with a sheet of foil. Put the springform pan into a larger baking pan, such as a roasting pan, and add enough hot water to the baking pan to come about halfway up to the outside of the cake pan.

Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes. You'll know the cake is done when it feels just set, like quivering chocolate pudding. If you gently touch the center, your finger should come away clean. (Cliffnote: mine always has a dot of chocolate residue when I test.)

5. Lift the cake pan from the water bath and remove the foil. Let cake cool completely on a cooling rack.

Serve thin wedges of this very rich cake at room temperature, with creme anglaise, ice cream, or whipped cream.

Storage: This Chocolate Idiot Cake can be wrapped and chilled in the refrigerator for 3-5 days.

I know you'd like a photo. But I gave it all away... and besides, it doesn't really photgraph well. It is a dark chocolate moon, complete with little moist pockmarks when done. Just make it.

You can thank me later.

Toyota Heaven

That's the name of the salvage yard I found yesterday. Eventually. First I followed my google map directions to a residential street in Arlington. The real Toyota Heaven, in all it's chain-metal fence and barking dog glory, is in Kennedale. Duh. In case you don't know, Kennedale is somewhere SE of Fort Worth.

I didn't know, either.

I live NE of Fort Worth. With a detour to Arlington it is quite a trek. And then with my standard can't-drive-back-from-Fort-Worth-without-taking-the-wrong-freeway detour, it took longer than it should have to get back home to immediately chauffeur the girls to and from overlapping activities. My bum was numb.

Anyhoo, I was at Toytoa Heaven to get a seat belt for my car. Because I've been driving around with a non-functional one since the end of summer. At least I think it has been since the end of summer -- it's the back, driver-side belt and it may have been broken for a while before Anna casually mentioned it one day. Not sure.

Why not just order a new one? Well, my friends at Firestone did. That's how we found out that standard replacement belts for my aged car only come in black.

My car is tan inside. Rude.

So I went to the place where Toyotas go to die. And Hondas. Mazdas. Nissans. And Toyota Heaven/Honda Heaven, being no respector of autos, even had a few Acuras and Lexuses. All resting peacefully in various stages of decay, grass growing around their picked-over frames.

There were three Avalons that were close to age of mine. Apparently they had six more last month but those had been so picked over they were crushed. Hmmmm.

Anyway, I found a near-match to my belt and my friends at Firestone have graciously agreed to install it for me.

And I'm grateful. Because we can't even get to church (about 4 minutes away) with the girls sitting that close without bickering.

And we're driving to Tennessee in a few weeks.

For The Love Of Books

"You are so stinkin' cute!"

"Not stinky, just cute."

This is an exchange I had with Anna a few years ago. I think she was in kindergarten. And it's still true.

The other day I checked the girls out of school to get the flu mist. Anna skipped to the car. Why walk when you can skip, right? It got to me. She used to skip everywhere. All the time.

Is this the little girl...

She's in second grade this year.

In second grade you are supposed to read 15 minutes every day. I think that was suggested in first grade, but this year they keep track. Anna is in charge of reporting her progress each week, which then must be verified by a parent. So there have been some interesting reports.

A few times they have gone back to the teacher with margin notes describing what actually happened. Anna hates the notes.

But it has worked. I won't sign a fabricated document -- and I don't know if it is fear of embarassing notes, letting her teacher down, or personal pride that has pushed her to legitimately boost those numbers. But she has started to read more.

Yesterday she sat reading a beginning chapter book for nearly an hour. Ghost Horse, since you asked. Hardly fine literature. But it touched her big little heart. Sniffles were heard.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"She never sees him again."

Stricken face.

Sobs.

"Oh, honey..." (I think we've got her!)

And Kate? Well Kate has had her nose in a book for years. It started around the age Anna is now. Like Anna, she was not the brightest star in first grade reading. But by third grade she was years ahead of level.

I don't think her early teachers suspected a thing. But I knew. I waited. For some reason I was convinced that one day something would just click and she'd be off. And then it happened.

I think I saw Anna's click yesterday. I knew it was coming, but it still made me a little giddy.

It honestly never occurred to me that my girls would not love books. How could they not?! Years ago I read an article that said the strongest predictor in reading success is whether children see their mother reading.

That's a theory I can support!

I spent a good portion of my childhood reading -- in my room, the car, upside down on the couch...

What?

I'll let you in on a dirty secret: I did not read a lot to my children when they were little. And I rarely repeated a storybook in one sitting. I just couldn't do it. After a few books I'd leave it up to them. Even as two-year-olds they sat with their little board books and looked at the pictures.

At naptime the girls would climb into bed with me, they with their stack of books and me with mine, and "read" next to me. We'd go to the library sometimes. But not religiously.

I have, however, always kept my eye out for good, age-appropriate books and stocked the shelves so there would always be interesting options around. I get them on Amazon, at garage sales, Half-Price Books, and the book fair at school. I preview most of them and pass the acceptable ones on to Kate.

And now Anna.

On Sunday I looked up from the book I was reading to find every member of my house sprawled on the couches before me, also reading.

Oh, my heart!

Historic McKinney Charm or Buy My Friend Glenda's Home

So we all want the quality, high ceilings, sweeping porches, and oversized lots of an older home, right? But let's get serious -- old is not charming in the kitchen or bath. So those have to be renovated.

Only I don't wanna do it. It's messy. And inconvenient. And it always takes longer and costs more than you think.

That's the rule.

But guess what? My insanely talented friend Glenda and her handy hubbie love it. They are working on their third historic home right now. They can't help themselves.

They have skills.

They have vision.

They have a gorgeously renovated old home for sale.

It's got buckets of charm. Completely updated bathrooms and kitchen. Fabulous porches. Nice big garage. And a pool, for crying out loud!

You can take a peek here.

Here are the particulars: 4 bedroom/3 bath/2 living + study/pool/large yard/2 car garage; for more information visit: http://www.lolisa.com/

Check it out, if only to steal some decorating ideas. Then tell all your friends. You could even post it on your blog. Let's go viral and sell this baby! And be sure to tell them Sharon sent you.

Because I want bragging rights.

Update: Glenda's bee-yoo-tiful house has sold! I don't think my blog is the reason but I did notice when I went to check back that the first paragraph on the linked page had changed. It sounded a bit like what I wrote about here. So I'm thinking that's pretty cool...

Religious Freedom

Do you know who Dallin H. Oaks is? He recently spoke at BYU-Idaho about religious freedom.

A news release from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints states,Elder Oaks has had a front-row seat in observing what he calls the “significant deterioration in the respect accorded to religion” in public life. Prior to his appointment to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Oaks had an illustrious law career. He served as a justice on the Utah Supreme Court, was a professor at the University of Chicago Law School and Brigham Young University’s J. Reuben Clark Law School and clerked for Chief Justice Earl Warren of the United States Supreme Court.

He's smart.

You might have to put on your thinking cap.

Here are some excerpts from his address:

...The free “exercise” of religion obviously involves both the right to choose religious beliefs and affiliations and the right to “exercise” or practice those beliefs. But in a nation with citizens of many different religious beliefs, the right of some to act upon their religious principles must be qualified by the government’s responsibility to protect the health and safety of all. Otherwise, for example, the government could not protect its citizens’ person or property from neighbors whose intentions include taking human life or stealing in circumstances rationalized on the basis of their religious beliefs.

...Religious belief is obviously protected against government action. The practice of that belief must have some limits, as I suggested earlier. But unless the guarantee of free exercise of religion gives a religious actor greater protection against government prohibitions than are already guaranteed to all actors by other provisions of the constitution (like freedom of speech), what is the special value of religious freedom? Surely the First Amendment guarantee of free exercise of religion was intended to grant more freedom to religious action than to other kinds of action. Treating actions based on religious belief the same as actions based on other systems of belief should not be enough to satisfy the special place of religion in the United States Constitution.

...We have endured a wave of media-reported charges that the Mormons are trying to “deny” people or “strip” people of their “rights.” After a significant majority of California voters (seven million — over 52 percent) approved Proposition 8’s limiting marriage to a man and a woman, some opponents characterized the vote as denying people their civil rights. In fact, the Proposition 8 battle was not about civil rights, but about what equal rights demand and what religious rights protect. At no time did anyone question or jeopardize the civil right of Proposition 8 opponents to vote or speak their views.

The real issue in the Proposition 8 debate — an issue that will not go away in years to come and for whose resolution it is critical that we protect everyone’s freedom of speech and the equally important freedom to stand for religious beliefs — is whether the opponents of Proposition 8 should be allowed to change the vital institution of marriage itself.

The marriage union of a man and a woman has been the teaching of the Judeo-Christian scriptures and the core legal definition and practice of marriage in Western culture for thousands of years. Those who seek to change the foundation of marriage should not be allowed to pretend that those who defend the ancient order are trampling on civil rights. The supporters of Proposition 8 were exercising their constitutional right to defend the institution of marriage — an institution of transcendent importance that they, along with countless others of many persuasions, feel conscientiously obliged to protect.

Religious freedom needs defending against the claims of newly asserted human rights. The so-called “Yogyakarta Principles,” published by an international human rights group, call for governments to assure that all persons have the right to practice their religious beliefs regardless of sexual orientation or identity.[xiv] This apparently proposes that governments require church practices and their doctrines to ignore gender differences. Any such effort to have governments invade religion to override religious doctrines or practices should be resisted by all believers. At the same time, all who conduct such resistance should frame their advocacy and their personal relations so that they are never seen as being doctrinaire opponents of the very real civil rights (such as free speech) of their adversaries or any other disadvantaged group.

...While our church rarely speaks on public issues, it does so by exception on what the First Presidency defines as significant moral issues, which could surely include laws affecting the fundamental legal/cultural/moral environment of our communities and nations.

...Fragile freedoms are best preserved when not employed beyond their intended purpose. If a candidate is seen to be rejected at the ballot box primarily because of religious belief or affiliation, the precious free exercise of religion is weakened at its foundation, especially when this reason for rejection has been advocated by other religionists. Such advocacy suggests that if religionists prevail in electing their preferred candidate this will lead to the use of government power in support of their religious beliefs and practices. The religion of a candidate should not be an issue in a political campaign.

...Religious values and political realities are so interlinked in the origin and perpetuation of this nation that we cannot lose the influence of Christianity in the public square without seriously jeopardizing our freedoms. I maintain that this is a political fact, well qualified for argument in the public square by religious people whose freedom to believe and act must always be protected by what is properly called our “First Freedom,” the free exercise of religion.

My dear brothers and sisters, I testify to the truth of these principles I have expressed today. I testify of Jesus Christ, our Savior, who is the author and finisher of our faith and whose revelations to a prophet of God in these modern times have affirmed the foundation of the United States constitution, which as we have said, was given by God to His children for the rights and protection of all flesh. May God bless us to understand it, to sustain it, and to spread its influence throughout the world, I pray, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

You can find the entire speech here.

K k k katie

Shout out to great Katies I know:

One called from the East just because she missed me. Made me feel so loved. And I needed that this week.

Another blogged from the West. Her perspective and example continue to inspire me and touch my life. Thank you, friend.

The dearest, whose hum button was stuck again last night, ceased when requested and silently channeled her inner music into a little boogie as she unloaded the dishwasher.

So great.

What's in a name?

I love these Katies.

Write Thy Name Upon My Heart

A song I had never heard before was performed at our stake Relief Society meeting, following the General Relief Society broadcast on Saturday.

Endow my soul with loving kindness...

Can't seem to get that line out of my head.

So in the wee hours of this first day of October, awake and unable to sleep, I googled it. Here are the lyrics for the entire song:

Write thy name upon my heart
Jesus, Savior of mankind
Teach me charity unfailing
Teach me compassion, Lord, like thine
Endow my soul with loving kindness
Make me even as thou art
Engrave thine image in my countenance
Write thy name upon my heart

When battles rage; when storms arise
Make me a messenger of peace
Teach me tolerance and meekness
And faith to bid the tempest cease
Endow my soul with loving kindness
Make me even as thou art
Engrave thine image in my countenance
Write thy name upon my heart

Grant me strength to serve thee well
Light my spirit with thy grace
'Til all my works reflect thy goodness
'Til all my labors sing thy praise
Endow my soul with loving kindness
Make me even as thou art
Engrave thine image in my countenance
Write thy name upon my heart

If you are interested, you can find it here.

I checked out the recordng on the site and didn't like the male vocal and "church music" production. I prefer the version I heard -- sisters' voices accompanied by piano.

Simple. Powerful.

Endow my soul...

The clarinet the clarinet...

Kate reports that for part of the much-agonized-over test she scored a 90.

When asked how her clarinet-playing girlfriends did she smiled and admitted most of them got 85s.

Happy for her. Even happier to store this fact for next time.

With Feeling, Brother Cliff!

Yesterday I watched the girls sing in the annual Sacrament Meeting presentation by the Primary. Kate, standing so still, calmly singing, so appropriate, until a long note morphed into a yawn and cracked me up. Couldn't be helped.

Anna, same song, soft smile, dreamy look, head swaying ever so gently, filled with emotion. Definitely the most engaged singer in the group. But appropriate. Progress from last year's grooving Las Vegas crooner style.

Sigh.

...is this the little girl I carried?

When we lived in the Dallas 1st ward John sometimes participated in the ward choir. Apparently, he's a Kate. Minus the yawn. The intrepid director, Sister Strub, encouraged him to sing with greater feeling. During practice. In front of the whole choir. I don't think he kept up with it much longer. Granted, we moved and all. So that could be it.

I sing with great feeling -- in the car. Not so much at church. Mostly because I am an alto who doesn't really read music. So I sing melody by default and am uncomfortable with the high notes. There are a lot of those. But I don't mind. Except now in Relief Society I sit next to an alto who can read music and sings beautifully. And I am reminded of what I'm missing.

Do you know my family? I'm the least musical. But I was in junior high choir and one year of high school -- until they divided the wheat from the chaff. Most of my friends were wheat, destined for the higher choir and selct group. Like my older sister and younger brother. I took art.

I was in band in junior high... I think. I distinctly remember my sixth grade clarinet class with the crusty old band director who came to teach us from the junior high. And we had summer band before seventh grade. I guess I must have been in the band that year because I can visualize a girl I knew only that year playing clarinet. But I have no memory of seventh grade band. Karen says she doesn't either. Blocked out?

So this year Kate is in 6th grade and Beginner Band at the Middle School. I'm thrilled that she has band everyday and a private clarinet lesson once a week. She might actually learn to play it!

She thinks she's horrible, but clarinet memories are emerging from the dark recesses and I assure her she's doing fine. I've heard much worse. She has a note test this morning, so last night as she fretted I picked up her instrument and tried to help out.

Somehow, my body remembered what to do. I didn't hit the notes (pesky tuner) but I came close and with no squeaks. Kate was impressed in a frustrated sort of way. After quite a bit more trying, Kate was able to do the same.

Someday, probably soon, her clarinet prowesse will eclipse mine.

But last night I knew just enough to help. That felt good.

As I finish typing this the first notes of the day are floating down from Kate's room. No squeaks.

Already, progress.

Politics Makes Me Crazy II

Recent posts on my friend Tricia's blog made me think again about the state of our nation and here is my comment:

I don't agree with everything going on with our current administration, I also disagree with a lot of the opposing side's views, and I think there has to be a better way with healthcare. Right now it works for the mostly healthy, gainfully employed middle class (most of the time) and is such a giant mess.

Mostly I am sad that our country has become so uncivil to each other, that the word patriot has been claimed by the right, and that in such short order the sense of doom has descended upon us. I am skeptical that the free market will govern itself admirably -- Wall Street? Mortgage industry? Yet I acknowledge that regulation can mess things up.

In the end I believe in our system, in checks and balance. I also believe things are a mess, that the system is corrupted. That people on both sides of the aisle have not been working for US. That things are out of control. I just think there is blame to share and polarizing our country with inflammatory labels and accusations on each side does not promote cooperation and good solutions.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Slinging Mud or Why Politics Makes Me Crazy

The outcry over President Obama talking to schoolkids makes me so cranky. I shouldn't really blog about it.

But one of the columnists at the Dallas Morning News did a nice job summarizing how I feel about the whole situation. You can read the column here.

Soccer Mom

Guess who's the assistant coach for Anna's soccer team? Yup. I'm officially one of those.

So my friend Jane, the coach, who has gone to the coaching clinic and read up on things, printed her philosophy of coaching for all the parents. The first point is that the girls have fun.

Oh, yeah. There may not be mad soccer skills... but there will be fun!

School Days School Days

School starts Monday and although I was mostly done with preparations we spent yesterday on a last-minute stop at Kohl's for Anna's backpack (if you're reading this today, don't miss the $10 coupon) and then headed over to decorate Kate's locker before Anna's meet-the-teacher.

In my day we didn't so much decorate the lockers. Although last summer's reunion trip brought up long-forgotten details of the little quirky things we had in lockers -- apparently Eddie Kirchoff regularly swiped my sister Karen's Happy Meal Muppet Babies just for fun -- but the girls over at the middle school were actually wallpapering and accessorizing. I think it's the HGTV.

Anyway, I had no idea. Until we went to drop off Kate's supplies. One girl down the row had made a button tufted memo board that fit into the locker door. That sounded doable so we brought up a few supplies and made one out of the wrap-pack box (pre-ordered school supplies), scrapbooking paper, and some leftover ribbon from my friend Erin. It turned out cute and maybe cost $.75 total.

If I were a real blog I'd have a photo for you.

Okay, I'll go get the camera and see what I can do.



That's a shower caddy stuck on the back wall with suction cups. The pink wire shelf was a birthday gift that inspired the color palette. Note HGTV effect. The shelf came with a mirror (in the caddy) and a cup for pens and paper clips. Of course I had to add matching paper and ribbon to the cup, but you can't see that because it's on the left wall behind Kate's head.

So far there's only a copy of her class schedule on the board but she'll be adding a few photos on Monday -- since I figured how to download them from my camera again.

See, we're learning already.

Working On A Great Smile

We have chosen Kate's orthodontist, and not a day too soon!

Last night, on the heels of the first-ever orthodontic consult and accompanying sticker shock, concern over whether to be concerned about a treatment plan involving the extraction of four teeth, and the added unknown of a second consult looming on the horizon and a potential third in two weeks, I chewed my nails to the nub.

As we parked for the second consult, I first warned Katie that I was not going to make the decision based on how cool the waiting room was and then ushered her into Dr. Coates' fantasy red, white, and black Coke-Happy Days-diner-themed office. Kate was thrilled. I was cautious.

The friendly-looking blonde at the desk said, "This must be Kate" before I identified myself. Point.

No forms to fill out. Point.

Brief tour of office, splitting attention between prospective patient and cautious Mom. Point.

Orthodontist entered the room, unhurried, with a smile and acknowledgment of Kate's recent birthday. Point.

Katie's teeth, jaw, profile, examined personally not by x-ray. Treatment plan -- no extractions -- presented. Questions solicited and fully answered. Point point point!

Treatment begun. POINT!

Delighted Kate sent home with a soda and cotton candy. Rule for teeth brushing post-candy presented. Point saved.

Sizeable incentive to sign today, additional sizeable incentive if paid in full. Options discussed, flexibility and personal allowances made. Point point POINT!

Decision made. Third consult canceled.Smiles all around.

The nails will grow.

Home Again Home Again

We're back from the trek West. We actually got back last week but first and most importantly I had to get my hair done and grocery up and spend the weekend doing things with John. Among other things we (I) lost and relocated my fabulous new blob-free cellphone, searched out and ordered John new glasses, went to the temple, and generally left the girls to their own devices. I think they enjoyed it.

They were mostly on their own last night, too. And most of the day today.

I've grabbed a few moment to catch up on friends' blogs and have noticed that they don't seem to leave their kids to wander around snacking and watching too much TV with the occasional chore thrown in. Am contemplating a new order of activity around here.

After I get some more stuff done.


P.S. Explored the overgrown square-foot garden and discovered four cukes. At about $50 a piece they sure tasted good.

Wandering The Desert Alone... With Two Kids

On Monday we head out for the yearly pilgrimage out West. But I can't seem to get excited about it this year. Not sure why. I am sooo complex and mysterious.

Cough.

It may surprise you that I repress a lot. The repressed stuff is manifested in chewed fingernails and fluctuating weight. Which I think is part of my problem.

Or it could be the three-day drive.

Granted, I did that third day to myself when I decided this was the year for the Grand Canyon.

But it calls to me.

But not too much. One sunset, a sunrise, and we'll be on our way.

We're going to have breakfast in the canyon with my parents, Uncle Roger, Aunt Judy and cousins. It's a traditional family childhood memory that I want to pass along to my girls.

But that's not at the Grand Canyon. It will be later, in one of the canyons outside of Salt Lake -- I can't remember which one is which because I grew up in Minnesota where we do lakes. Sorry for the confusion.

We'll do the parade at Grandma's on the Fourth, of course.

And we'll go to the Oquirrh Mountain Temple Open House with the girls to see the temple before it is dedicated. That's at the top of my list.

Then there will be visits to family and friends. But I'm cutting the pace and number way down this year... so maybe only half a million. After all, I'm planning on two weeks instead of the usual four.

Unless I change my mind.

Then I would be around for the traditional Harry Potter opener with Karen. And maybe a trek up to Idaho, the place of the Fabanich. Fireworks on the 24th of July. Hanging out with Housley girls. Another half million visits to family and friends.

But right now I'm planning on two weeks.

We'll see.

Deep Thoughts

d - - b

AOL says that is "listening to music" but when I look at it I see dweeb.

Not that listening to music makes you a dweeb. After all, I have an IPod for all the running I do... consistently and with much discipline.

What does this say about me?

Summertime... and the blogging is easy

I finally had some time to check on my blogging peeps. Then I had time again (!) and got nothing. How rude. Apparently my peeps are too busy to update their content. Don't they know I want to be amused? How can I live vicariously through them if they have a life beyond the blog?

Then I realized that I haven't posted since the end of May. Oops.(How did it get to be the middle of June?!) Generally by this time I've hit the road or am making plans for it but I haven't been able to summon up the desire for either.

I guess we're easing into summer this year. I'm almost out of scheduled activites, though, so I will need to find some more or get the heck outta Dodge. I'm open to suggestions...

Last week the girls had sewing camp with Sister Whatcott and made darling pjs and matching "sleepover bags." Of course, we don't do sleepovers. But after the first day of soccer camp this week Anna came home and repurposed hers as a gear bag. Bet noone else has a pink bag with fairies.

The girls have been swimming with friends but I have yet to bring them to the pool... they are out in the sun a lot at soccer camp. And we had guests last week (miss you, Settles!) It may be that I am still trying to figure out how to disguise the thigh zone. Completely. But my options are limited.

How is it that men, ridiculously able to retain nice-looking legs whatever their age or size, have myriad options while I must expose this big ugly truth? Whatever.

I'm taking suggestions on that, too.

No More Homework No More Books

Have you heard me talk about how I hate fifth grade? Here's the most recent example, taken directly from the schoolnotes page:

May 29 5th Grade Party at the Community Activity Center
June 1 Read-In
June 2 Promotion Ceremony, Individual Pictures and Picnic
June 3 Clean Rooms, collect books, clean out lockers
June 4 Watch Movies and Car Parade
June 5 Last Day of School Early Release

I see five days of party and one legitimate clean-out day -- and don't be fooled by the scheduled "read-in." I have it on good authority that game systems and I-pods are more prevalent than books on this day.

Is it just me?

Taking The Face Outta Facebook

As of last week, I am no longer on facebook. And I don't plan to tweet. So this is it, people!

In related news, I've removed the follower's section from the sidebar and added a list of good books down there on the right. Check it out for your summer reading or pick one up for a friend. They're eminantly gift-able.

What books do you recommend? I'd love to see lots of comments below.

And if you're interested, my good blogging friend Pmom reviewed The Perfect Mile here.

Happy reading.

Swine Flu Shwine Flu

The kids are going back to school tomorrow, Thursday, instead of next Monday. This after the school district reversed their decision to close down for a week. This after the CDC re-thought the advisory for schools to close down. This in part because of the hardship on families with kids out of school.

I am happy to report that it has been a pleasure to have the girls out of school and at home these past few days. And I wish they didn't have to go back. I have made it to the other side of the fence!

You know the one, where the grass is greener?

Although I certainly haven't missed all the projects and activities, it's more than that. It's been nice having them home. I've enjoyed having them around and they seem to be enjoying each other more, too.

The other night the girls called me into Anna's room, where Katie was spending the night on the popped up trundle next to Anna. As soon as I walked in, two heads lolled to the side and began emitting obnoxious snoring sounds that quickly lapsed into helpless giggles.

It was so cute. And a bit surreal. It felt a bit like a Family First commercial.

I'm not the only one who doesn't want our Swine Break to end. Kate dug out the memo saying school was canceled until Monday and asked if attendance tomorrow is required. This while gazing into my eyes.

I tried to evade the question. Because I am pretty sure absences will be excused. She really should be in school, right? It could be that a lot will be going on to make up for 3 missed days.

Or maybe not. I mean, the standardized tests are done and the major projects have been turned in and the last month of fifth grade has the potential for being one near-continuous party.

Anyway, I tried to distract Kate by suggesting a haircut after school. She countered with a proposeal to get it tomorrow during school so she could make a splash when she shows up Friday with a new look. (She has recently been expressing an interest in getting noticed. I am pretty sure it is not boy-related. It makes me sad, though.)

The thing is, it would be a lot more fun to keep her out another day and get the haircut and be the fun Mom. And hang on to these days when she'd rather be here with me.

Instead, I told her she needed to go and promised we could get the haircut after school.

This before the email came announcing a make-up rehearsal after school.

Sigh.

Such lovely grass.

Birthday Bonus?

School's just been canceled for next week because of swine flu precautionary measures... so we've counseled with Anna and will be doing only the dinner and a movie portion of birthday plans tonight with the intent to find a fantastic excursion next week when we will time to fully enjoy ourselves.

Any suggestions?

Seven is Magic

That's the name of a reader I remember from early grade school. And it's a good description of how I feel about Anna, who turned seven today.

Anna is eminantly snuggleable, frequently hilarious and occasionally a handful, usually happy, selectively helpful, often exuberant, sometimes willful, generally affectionate and exceptionally loveable. And she's not so little anymore.

Anna woke early today to celebrate -- she knows birthday gifts are always on the kitchen table first thing in the morning -- but first she came into my room and snuggled happily with me, listening as I retold the story of the day she was born. How beautiful she was, not smushed and funny looking like most newborns, and how tiny! I could hold her head in my cupped hand and her body was just long enough to nestle on my forearm inside the elbow.

Anna loves to hear how tiny she was.

When we were done snuggling, she waited again without complaint for Katie to shower. And then Dad. Then she came down the front stairs, I suppose to avoid peaking, and didn't come in until I called everyone down to see her open her presents. What new restraint is this?!

Anna was pleased with the simple gifts she received: a box of Barbie band-aids and two fairy books complete with fluffy pen from Katie, a new Book of Mormon with picture stickers to add to the pages from her grandparents, some candy for the movie theater tonight, a box each of Cookie Crisp and Ritz Bitz, and the promise of a surprise gift from Nana and Papa after school.

She liked the little Target birthday cake for breakfast, too. Of course I gave her the piece with the most frosting. I am not sure about her, but the rest of us left most of it on our plates.

In lieu of a party with friends Anna said she wanted a family sleepover at the Hilton at Southlake Town Center. (Her first choice was the Great Wolf Lodge but we said it cost too much and Dad got sick in the swirling slide). So I'm not sure if it's the pool or the concierge lounge -"snack room" that is the greater draw? But today after school we'll go swim, walk to dinner and the movies, swim again in the morning and call it a birthday.

And I bet you five dollars she'll mention her next one before we get home.

Running Fool II

So now that I can run a mile I have to go do it again.

Uggh.

Running Fool

Back on March 3rd I took my Vipod out for the inaugural test run that became a test walk after about half a block.

Less than two weeks later I was surprised and thrilled to run half a mile. Of course the thrill part came after I had stopped, dropped, and rolled.

Just kidding about the drop and roll part.

Or at least the roll part.

Anyway, at some point mid-April I made it to .75 mile without stopping. And last week, aided by nostalgia and New Order (the Bizarre Love Triangle extended dance mix really goes on and on and on) I painfully pushed through to a mile.

Now I realize this is no biggie for my crazy runnning friends, but it's something I have never done before. Even with Mr. Harris' heckling in junior high P.E. But look at me now.

Ultimately, I'd like to be able to go for a quick run, say 20-25 minutes, and cover a few miles. Which means I'm going to have to increase my pace so I can go farther faster.

You know, to get it over with.

Because don't get me wrong -- I do NOT enjoy this.

Except for brief moments when a song on the Vipod puts a bounce in my step. This actually happened twice today. And there I was, cruising along like a runner.

It quickly passed.

Brief and Dignified

I recently made the switch from serving in Young Women's at church to serving in the Relief Society presidency. So now each week I sit, briefly, in front of a group of smart, wonderful, talented, well-mannered ladies of our congregation and try to comport myself with appropriate decorum. Because the pre-lesson opening is supposed to be brief and dignified.

I think you know where I'm going with this.

I only bring this up because of a recent post on my friend Pmom's blog where she describes a situation in which she could have jumped into a conversation between strangers and offered advice yet refrained. Then she wondered why:

I have a friend who reads this blog, S., and I was thinking about it later: What would S. do? And I reflected that no way would she have said nothing. S. would have said something, and she would have said it in a way that made the other person laugh–possibly thinking she was a tiny bit overbearing, yet funny, but more likely so grateful for the helpful information.

What would S do?! I can't be sure, but my guess is that the mysterious S would probably have jumped right in and drenched the ladies with an outpouring of opinion. Perhaps they would have found her well-intentioned attempt at helpfulness charming. Or quirky. Harmless?

Sigh.

Here's part of my reaction to Pmom's post:

Choosing silence is something I frequently resolve to do more often. A few years back I participated in one of those personality inventory sessions and was horrified when a casual friend said she would have pegged me first as dominant. I found out that it’s not an uncommon perception of an “expressive expressive” personality.

So while you question your reticence, I worry about being perceived as overbearing, pushy, or generally obnoxious. I admire the soft-spoken, the gracious, the ones who measure their words.

But then again, I’ve always wanted straight hair — and I bet you like curls.

I don't really think I am overbearing, pushy, or obnoxious. Or that people who know me think I am those things.

Most of the time.

But what about the people who don't know me well enough to see past the quirks? (And just so you know, thoughts like this did not weigh so heavily upon me when I spent time with a group of teen-aged girls.) But now that I'm with the grown-ups I have wondered... what will they think of me? Am I going to be a bull in the Relief Society china shop? What kind of effect will I have?

As I watched the many different men and women speak during the most recent General Conference of the Church, sat in stake training meetings, and enjoyed attending my first two Relief Society lessons in five years, I tried not to compare myself to others or dwell on my shortcomings.

But I was concerned. Then as I sat in the temple last week I was impressed with the thought that a range of behavior is acceptable to the Lord. I may be way on the far side of dignified, but I like to think I stay within acceptable boundaries.

And just this morning as I spoke with a friend's daughter, one of the darling young women I have served with over the past five years, I found words to describe -- with appropriate brevity and dignity -- what I can bring to service in Relief Society.

An added measure of joyfulness.

Whaddyathink?

Buona Pasqua!

This morning the girls had the traditional Cliff egg hunt -- in the living-dining room, and a good thing, since it rain rain rained all night -- and we talked about what Easter is really about.

We talked about springtime, new life, and how the Savior rising from the tomb after three days means everyone, everywhere, will live again.

As an aside I mentioned that Easter and Christmas are such a big deal that even people who don't normally go to church attend services.

Throughout the week I noticed signs announcing that a lot of places that are usually open on Sunday will be closed today, too. So people can worship and spend time with their families.

And that makes me happy.

This morning after the hunt Katie shared a marshmallow bunny with me. But first she bit the ears off, which I surmised was her twist on a plotline from the comics page. This comic features a more-put-together-than-the-parents sassy daughter that I thought was so funny when I was a teen but now not so much.

I referenced the comic as she handed the earless bunny to me and we shared a moment. Then I picked up my Dove dark chocolate bunny and bit off its ears.

I'm off to paint my toenails pink for church...

Happy Easter!

Planning to Travel Part III: Disneyland

We've gone a few times with the girls. I am not a theme park lover. But I love Disneyland. We have great family memories. I haven't gone in the summer since I was a teen, but the crowds are greater then and the planning will be more important. I would say crucial. Even if you hate to plan. Of course, if you go for a week the plan won't be as important. But because I am neither made of money nor a theme park lover I can do Disneyland for about two days. Then the magic is gone.

We always fly into John Wayne/Orange County airport, which is smaller than LAX but much closer and the tickets usually cost the same or less. We take a taxi to Disneyland because it is the cheapest for the four of us (versus a shuttle or several days of rental car) and then we don't have to figure out traffic. Sometimes you can find limo services for the same price as a taxi and be whisked away in leather towncar fabulousness. If you plan on continuing to the beach or other destinations you can always get a car later. Why pay to have it parked?

The first time we went I got the book The Unofficial Guide to Disneyland and read/devoured it for tips. We used one of the touring plans in the back of the book. It helped. The book also gives you the scoop on things like early entry, rides and shows, and restaurants and hotels that are nearby.

But then I found a little thing called Ridemax.

Ridemax is true.

It is software some enterprising person devised that creates personalized touring plans of the Disney parks. They make the plan for you, better than you can do it yourself. Beautiful.

I guess they study traffic flow, popularity of rides, wait times, etc., and put it all together with some complicated wizardry to analyze the patterns within the Disneyland parks so you can take the road less traveled. You can Google it to find the site. They'll describe it better than I can.

So you put your information into the system: the day you'll be in the park-- Disneyland or California Adventure, although they also have Ridemax for Disneyworld -- and your estimated arrival time and departure, which attractions you want to do that day, how long your afternoon break will be -- and trust me, you'll want to do that to cope with sensory overload for you and the kiddoes -- if you move fast or slow (choose slow) and whether you can send a runner for fastpasses. I'm the runne. And BTW, it helps if the runner is familiar with the basic park layout. So unless you grew up in the OC or spent every summer of your life visiting Disneyland, get a map and study it before you arrive.

Once you've put in all your preferences, Ridemax whirrs away and spits out an itinerary with the order in which you go to each attraction, complete with times so you know if you are staying on schedule. If you don't like it for whatever reason you can re-run the program for an alternate plan. I do that when I don't like the afternoon break schedule or I don't like the ordered mix of rides. But I print out the first option first so I can compare. You can do that as little or as much as you like. Guess which category I fall into?

Ridemax also estimates how much time you'll stand in line with the itinerary plan v. doing it yourself. On busy days you can save hours. Hours, people! Spontanaeity is not all it's cracked up to be. Gimme the plan. Last trip we got ahead of schedule and rode the Matterhorn twice with no wait.

You can print out several Ridemax versions for each day with15 min. arrival intervals if you think you may run late in the morning. Better safe than sorry, I say. I guess if you bring a laptop with you on vacation, something I discourage, you can do it each morning before you leave your hotel. But I don't recommend that plan. What if the WiFi is down? What if you sleep late and there is no time to work your plan? What if the hotel's printer is out of paper? Make the plan. Take the plan. Be the plan. : )

Again, this is not spontaneous theme park behavior. Your kids have to be prepared so they know you'll be walking past certain rides but coming back later. Our girls were fine with it. They were excited to be there, we'd explained the schedule to them, and miraculously they suspended their usual need to question my actions in the thrall of vacation extraordinariness. I heart Ridemax. It is right up my alley. Check out the Europe post: I am Ridemax.

If you are big autograph seekers you would have to skip parts of your itinerary to stand in line for them and still stay on track. We don't do autograph lines. But we always go to Goofy's Kitchen in the Disneyland Hotel for an early character dinner the day we arrive. This is the night before we enter the parks. The kids get to see several characters and get their fix and it introduces the Disney fun without adding an extra day on the ticket. Which is good, because Goofy's aint cheap. Then we go to the hotel, swim if we haven't been to the pool already, and get to bed at a reasonable time so everyone is fresh in the morning.

One benefit of going to CA is that with the two-hour time difference we can sleep normally and still be up early for park entrance the first day. How old are your kids? We used the big park strollers part of the time. They are big enough for most grade-schoolers and great for stowing drinks and stuff -- the kids love being tooled around and they also get to relax in the shade while we push them around the park and are therefore happier. We got one for our first grader last year and our fifth grader wanted one by the afternoon. Not much excessive vanity at our house.

We've stayed all over the place. The first time we stayed at the Embassy Suites one. John loves the big FREE made to order breakfast, as do the kids, and I like putting the kids on the pullout and having my own room. Another time we stayed at the Howard Johnson's because of its great reviews; it is nothing fancy but we had a nice-sized quad room with a balcony and park view, two blocks down across from the main entrance. Last trip we were at the Hilton adjacent to the convention center. It's reviews were mixed, but we had a very nice stay there.

Each hotel had it's perks. We walked from HoJo's and took the resort transport for a small fee for the other two. I think I like the Embassy Suites the least -- but mabe because it was the first trip and we were farthest away on the transport route and breakfast was a huge atrium affair. When we stayed at HoJos we had breakfast in the room (cereal and fruit) or at the Mimi's next door.

I've never stayed on Disneyland property, but Karen and I are going to do that this December as our birthday celebration. Because you should celebrate getting older by acting like a kid.

We've already started to plan.

Planning to Travel Part II: Europe

Are you going to Europe? Lucky you! I have only gone once in summer, and it was a different experience. If you can, go off-season. If you can't, then the planning will be even that more important. Regardless, it will be amazing. Let's make a plan:

First, check out the general location info for each city you will visit (what to do/basic tips/weather). Because you might not know what is there... okay, so you may know that Milan has the Last Supper. But do you know you can walk from the Duomo (cathedral) through the Galleria (glass arcaded shopping street) to La Scala, the famous opera house? But did you know you have to stop at the bull halfway through to spin a few times on his, uh, parts? Do you know that when you're there the cheapest yummy is the panzerotti at Luini? You would if you checked out the city online. Google it. Use Rick Steves. Frommers. Slow Travel. Check out the guidebooks at Barnes & Noble -- if you find one you like, buy it. You can tear out the sections you like and bring them with you.

Next, look at what there is to do and make a list of what you want to do, in order of greatest importance. Then make a sample itinerary based on the time you have -- basically, what stuff can you feasible do with the time you have? Factor in travel time, amount of time at each site, waiting time if there will be lines. I try to get a map of the city online so I can coordinate activities by zone. It saves time and cab fare if you can cluster activities. Go ahead and factor in pit stops at this time. You'll need a plan for finding restrooms. Museums are always good. Most restaurants will not have them, but the American ones often do.

Then, when you know what you'll be doing, double check the opening/closing times and holiday/festival dates to make sure what you want to do will be open when you get there. Don't forget that in many countries things will close mid-afternoon. It's not as prevalent as it used to be, but you need to check it out. Churches don't stay open all day and night. Holidays exist that we don't know about, especially in Italy, where there are a billion feast days we don't celebrate. If something is closed the day you have planned, rework the plan and see if you can fit it in the next day. Also note that there is often a free day for museums. Note that it will be especially crowded on that day. And having been to the Vatican museums on a normal day, I don't think I'd want to be there on a "busy" day.

Put the dates and times on your itinerary. I often have two pages: one is a calendar type with the day's schedule and basic information such as what time we'll do each activity and how to get there. The second has more complete information such as full schedules/addresses/restaurant specialties for referance. This helps me know the consequences when I want to deviate from the plan. For example, when John and I were in New York last year it was raining so we nixed plans for Bryant Park and went to the Metropolitan museum. However, I neglected to check the full day/time information for the museum and we had only been there for about 1/2 and hour when they announced the regular, early, closing time in 15 minutes. (Oh, so that's why I planned this activity the next day).

Having complete contact information also helps if you've deviated from the plan and are now going to be finding a place from a different location than originally planned. (Because I plan the route from place to place). If I don't have the address to my little economical hotel with me, only instructions to take so and so bus from outside the Forum, I won't be able to find the hotel from anywhere else. Well, I could probably do it. Because I'm not afraid to ask. And since I speak Italian. But you'd be in a spot of trouble. I'm sure some nice person would get you there eventually. My seventh grade German was enough to find the church I wanted in Zurich... the one we'd passed twice. Old people are nice.

Speaking of hotels, you need to get your reservations ASAP, if you haven't already. I have had mixed success with Rick Steves' hotel recommendations, and if you follow them, aim high. The good places book up fast in high season. I don't know if there are good "deals" in Rome... or London. Everyone wants to go there and so it costs a bit more. I'm not very particular. I've stayed in everything from five star hotel(lifestyles of the rich and famous, thanks to traveling husband's points) to hostel. And a hotel run by nuns. They were all clean and safe, and that's what counts. But European bathrooms are foreign and often smaller than some people are used to. And your bath may be yours alone, but it may be across the hall from you. Doesn't bother me so much, but my Dad didn't like it. Bigger hotels that cater to business people are usually more comparable to an American hotel room. But rooms for four can be hard to come by. Book early.

Two years ago when Katie and I met my parents in Rome we rented an apartment. It was fantastic, although the location was not as central as I would recommend. With the difficulty in finding larger rooms in Europe I highly recommend checking out apartment rentals. And the cost may be comparable to what two rooms would be in a hotel. There are many websites devoted to them with pictures and sometimes reviews, too. Katie loved having her own room. I liked being able to shop and have breakfast make pasta with local ingredients. But even if you don't cook, the quiet and space to spread out after traveling together is wonderful. I would do it again.

Once I have my plan of activities by day I go back and research transportation options (train/subway/cab/bus) and whether several day passes or individual tickets will be better. In Europe kids of a certain age often travel free with adults on public transportation. I used the metro a bit in Rome, but it isn't as helpful as some other cities I've visited. London's tube system is fantastic -- clear signs, and of course all in English. And it is the fastest way to get across trafficky London. For Rome, for our location near the Vatican, the buses were very helpful. But you have to know where you are going and stay very alert. Pickpockets dress like businessmen these days. Or so I've heard. I don't know that I'd recommend buses to the uninitiated. But for adventurous travelers, especially those who use public transportation in their city at home, they can be faster and more convenient than other transportation options. And sometimes the unusual options are the most fun. I have very fond memories of me and my sister-in-law hopping into a pedicab after the theatre and zooming through London at night.

Taxis are not too hard to come by in Rome... and depending on who you are traveling with, the convenience and foot resting is worth the extra money. (But if you are in Florence, unless you are going across the entire city or to/from the train station, just walk.) If you are driving to a city in Italy, something I've never done, you would want to check out where you can park your car legally and long-term. I think parking it somewhere safe on the edge of the city and using public transportation is what I'd do in most of Europe. Even if you are used to driving there. Because it is a hassle to figure out little streets, and finding parking can be impossible. And then what if you come back to the car and find a boot on the tire? Nightmare. We have friends who love a hotel in Rome that has an interior courtyard for cars. Check out your options.

Oh, and check to see if your cell phone will work in Europe. Get it set so you can use it and your trip could be so much easier. If you have more than one in your group, you'll be able to separate and meet up easily. Find the numbers for cabs in the cities you will visit in case you need to call one. Sometimes they are hard to find. But also know that in some cities if one is called, they start charging on the route to you as well as once you are picked up. I didn't realize this. I think maybe this misunderstanding is why people think cabbies are scamming them. And don't get into unauthorized cabs. They will scam you.

I'm a bit crazed about the transportation scheuling -- I print out maps and familiarize myself with them, I look up the site I will be, where I am going next, and how to get there. I put the correct bus/subway line, number, and direction in my itinerary. One reason is so I don't waste time figuring it out while I am there. Because that is a crime. The second reason is so I don't stand around in all my tourist glory asking to be pickpocketed. It has never happened to me, but a swarm of paper-wielding gypsies in Florence almost got my Dad's wallet (I alerted him to not just pay attention but to get his hand on his wallet -- they already know where it is, so it's not like you are tipping them off -- they won't take it blatantly from you) and my father-in-law got his lifted in Paris last week. Be vigilant! They are good. Don't make yourself more of a target standing around with a map looking confused.

I wear a dorky moneybelt under my clothes when I am in Europe. It's true. It has a zipper at the top so I can actually get into it as easily as it is to tuck a shirt into jeans. I carry only my local transport tickets and a day's worth (or half a day) of money in my wallet or pocket. My passport, credit cards, ATM card and a sheet I photocopied with the images of my cards, front and back with contact information, are tucked away. It's just easier not to worry. If I am going to pay at a restaurant or hotel or whatever with a card I discreetly get the card out and tuck it back away safely before re-entering the street/station/etc. Better safe than sorry. Once an Italian caught me tucking my Amex into the belt under my skirtband, smiled, and said they do the same when they are traveling. I am not too proud to do it. And I never worry.

I always get some local cash before I go from my bank (order it ahead of time unless you are close to a big city branch) and use the ATM wherever you travel for more. I use cash more there than here so I also plan for ATM use throughout the trip. Be careful about the locations you use, and be discreet.

One thing I'm not good about is checking for consulate info. I just read in the paper and it's a good idea to register with them so they know you are in the city, in case you need to be contacted, but also have the adress and phone number in your itinerary should you need assistance. Because you never know...

I pack light. Really light. Because I have never driven, and always use public transportation, I have to lug my stuff. I use a carry-on sized bag and a large purse or tote bag over my shoulder. I take 1 pair of jeans and 1-2 pairs black pants in the winter; at least one pair of slacks and some skirts in the summer and several tops and a light jacket or sweater to layer that can be wrapped around my waist. I was unprepared for the cold we found in London in June, and have photos of me and Katie bundled in the warmest clothes we had -- pants, light jackets and the pashminas I always carry for cold planes and to add color to my basic wardrobe. Glad I had two scarves with me. But in sandals our toes were freezing. I'd try to bring at least a ballet flat next time. I try to find the most comfortable shoes that are not sneakers -- boots in winter and one other, sandals and one other in summer. And I tuck in flip flops because I have shower issues. It's coordinated so it all goes together. Don't wear shorts in Italy. Capri pants are fine, but skirts are cooler for summer, and you'll look nicer and be treated better. I take A-line skirts with stretch (more comfy and reduced wrinkling) or skirts meant to look crinkly. Because I cram my little case as full as I can.

I always travel with a purse or tote bag with strap big enough to put over my shoulder. It has to be big enough for a water bottle, my itinerary, map, travel umbrella if necessary, and room for small purchases. My girls have little bags with long straps to wear across their body that they keep paper and pens in, little snacks, and water. The strap has to be that long so they can wear it and forget about it rather than forget it somewhere. Katie wore hers all over London, Florence, and Rome. She was a champion traveler. I don't know when I've ever been so proud.

Make the plan. Work the plan. Be the plan.

And have fun.

Planning to Travel? Part I

No, I'm not going anywhere. For now. But in a recent email response to friends who will be traveling I regurgitated all the ugly details about my pre-travel research routine. And it is more than a normal person would want to attempt. But there's good stuff in there, people! So I'm putting it out there. My own little travel tips and techniques. But not so little. You've been warned.

Here's my travel philosophy -- I am crazy researcher before I leave so I can pack a lot in and/or not worry about things while there. I have gone to Europe a few times, and plan to go back again and again, but I always travel with the theory that it could be my last trip -- you never know! So I do plan to an insane degree in order to hit more of my highest priority experiences. It is not slow travel. Someday I will rent a place for a month and do that. But I've never had a month. So I pack things in, but build into the itinerary things like stopping for hot chocolate at Cafe Rivoire to rest and people watch. I also try to balance activities so one day is not all museums and churches. Or at the very least there is a gelato stop between the museum and church. I do this for travel in the States, too, but to a lesser degree. Sort of.

Some people dislike being scheduled and think that too much planning is a killjoy. But it is not fun for me to spend valuable vacation time figuring out what to do today, or, perhaps, missing the Michelangelo statue because we got there as the priests are chaining the gates to the church shut or not seeing the Sistine Chapel because it is St. Joseph's day. Yup, both happened my first time in Rome -- and we only had the one day. Figuring out how to get somewhere is not fun. Doing one thing a day when you could do two or three is not fun. Planning can be frustrating, but it is fun. The anticipation is part of the thrill. And the security you feel when you get to your destination and sort of know what you are doing is really nice.

So if you don't like following a plan, this post is not for you. Because it's all about the planning, baby. One crucial step is knowing who you are traveling with. If you've never traveled with your group before, ask some questions. When do they anticipate being ready for the day? How long before they turn into a pumpkin? What are their views on public transportation? Eating picnics from local markets? Try to figure this stuff out before you go. Because the length of your day, the pace you set, the money you will spend, and even the time you start for breakfast will be determined by the members of your group.

You have to know who you are dealing with to make realistic plans. Traveling with my parents is different than traveling with my sister. Or just my daughter. Or my mother in law. Or Team Cliff. I know who prefers walking to a cab (and vice versa), how fast they are going to walk, and what they are racing toward. Factor these things into your plan. I love it when a plan comes together!

But maybe it's not your trip? If you aren't in charge, just let it go. It's better that way. And sometimes you have to do that.

But if you are the trip guru, go to town! If you do it right, your family will be grateful. My sister has traveled to NYC and Europe with me and my crazy itineraries. She recently visited a friend in Manhattan but admitted she preferred our visit. Now she may be just saying that, but I think I've ruined her for all other travel companions.

I think it's because of the plan. And because I am fun. You can have a plan and be fun... you can even plan for fun. But usually the fun comes in unexpected places when you are not worrying about the details. The fun comes when you deviate from the plan... and you're informed enough to know the consequences. Work the plan. Be the plan. Your family will thank you.

Gone To The Dogs

What is up with dogs running loose in the neighborhood?! Two just ran past my window. And last night one was sniffing around the front beds. And now there's a chorus going on -- like the dogs calling out across the countryside in 101 Dalmations. Wonder what they know?

It's quiet now.
But I think they're still out there.

I'm going to the gym.

Two Steps Forward...

I somehow managed to smush the inside screen of my cool new free phone. I think it happend at the park... so beware of screen-smushing swings. Or don't carry your phone in a hip pocket. Either way works.

"Why don't you return the phone," a chorus of Costco-savvy friends inquire? Well, it was free so I have nothing to gain by returning it. Trust me, I've tried all the angles.

And I looked at a cheapie replacement, but I'm already spoiled by the Pearl. And I am just getting the hang of it. So I'm going to stick with it. Because it still works fine. Aside from the two dark blobs on the screen. But I'm working around them.

My V-ipod, however, is fantastic.

And I can run half a mile now.

Free Free Set Me Free

Last week I got a Blackberry -- for free! Costco rocks.
And an Ipod. Technically not free, but purchased with Costco cash-back and therefore doesn't count, right? Two bold steps into the technology of this century that have turned my world upside down. I have missed calls, voicemails, and texts because it is a new phone. And you know what they say about teaching an old dog new tricks... woof.

My V-Ipod, named in honor of it's shade of Vikings purple and not because it is violet, took all morning to set up and load with 41 songs. The first one? You Make Me Feel Like Dancing by Leo Sayer. A feel-good flashback to my childhood if there ever was one. Love it!

John hates it. I don't know how you can hate a song that starts, "You've got a cute way of talking..." My sophisticated Kate's reaction was, "Why would you download old-school music onto your Ipod?" (She's a tween, you know.) But Anna danced with me in the kitchen to all sorts of random tracks.

Anyway, the girls (on bikes) and I took my V-Ipod out for a test run today. Okay, so the running lasted half a block and then it was a test walk.

Whatever.

It was thoroughly enjoyable.
Even when my V-Ipod dislodged itself from my bra strap, bounced on the sidewalk and sustained a few minor cosmetic injuries. I may need to check into those fancy running shirts with Ipod accessories. Or a light jacket with a kangaroo pouch.
I'll need them for all my running, you know.

Because it may be that my V-Ipod will inspire me to heretofore unknown heights of running success, culminating in future Ragnar participation. The non-driving kind. See how fitting that would be? It might just release the inner athlete that has been imprisoned within my whole life.

Or maybe not.

Lost in Translation

For those of you who don't read first-grader, the previous post reads thus:

I know my sister.
You think she is nice.
But she's really not nice.

This tender note was found behind the couch in the family room. I laughed. Because I know that sometimes it is hard to be the little sister. Or the big sister.

And I am confident that my girls will grow up and love their sister.

Because I do.

Found Cleaning

I now miy sister
you thinke she is
nick but shes
rilley not nick

Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon

You know the six degrees thing that went around Hollywood -- that game that any actor/direct could trace themselves back to Kevin Bacon within six steps? I can, too.

Yes I can.

My sister was in All-District Choir in sixth grade with Steve Zahn. Zahn, as JohnCliff likes to call him (as though they were buddies in high school) was in That Thing You Do with Tom Hanks. Tom Hanks was in Apollo 13 with Kevin Bacon. Ta dah! Four steps.

I don't know why this amuses me so much. But it does.

If you think this is frivolous and silly, check out sixdegrees.org and give something to the world.

Ghosts In My Machine

I don't know what happened -- I just wanted to switch up the colors and now my posts won't show up?

Ahhh... there we go.

I'll Be There For You... Or Not

So I decided to venture onto Facebook... and I don't really know what I am doing. And I think I'm supposed to post a ton of pictures -- that's why it is called FACEbook, right? But I am not sure how I feel about putting a bunch of photos out there.

And I am not sure about all this "friending" business. My bro Ben has very strict rules about facebook friends (if you're not a friend of his in real life, fuggedabowtit -- and note that I have never actually seen The Sopranos but just referenced it so it is now officially moldy) and I am rather inclined to agree with Ben.

Except that I am open to friends from the past. What to do with people you are or were friendly with, but who're not actually friends? I'm thinking no. But maybe yes.

I see this as more of a quandary for a girl...

Gypsies, Cakes & Things

Have you ever done a friend's daughter's wedding cake? I have.
This friend just told me about a blog that is all about professional cake disasters. I am not reading into this... I am sure it is not a commentary on my work.

If you've ever made a Barbie cake or it is in your future, you should check out this blog. And plan on making some cupcakes for the candles. Wish someone had warned me.
http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/

Now I would never judge a grocery store bakery's neon color-vomit swirl-pull-apart globby mess. Those people have mad frosting skills. And they work fast. But less is more, people.

Unless you are making a haunted graveyard out of marzipan.
But I digress.

Cake Wrecks has a few good cakes, too. And a really cool clip of claymation action (how do they get the marching knee bumps?) set to Noi Siamo Zingarelle (We Are Gypsies) from La Traviata. Opera in play-dough. And cake. What's not to love?

I haven't figured out how to add the video directly, so here is the link.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7SSCxJdHeKY

You Follow Me?

My brother Ben haiku-ed me why I didn't allow followers? This led to the discovery that not only do I allow them, I already have five. Who knew?

So I added the gadget so the world may see you.

Or the shadowy figure you hide behind. You know who you are.

Mad Haiku Skills with Guest Blogger John Cliff

Man in the fur coat,
How much did your fur coat cost?
More than my car did.

...any comments on this post must be in haiku form...

A Little Knowledge

Did you see how that last post featured a link to my friend's blog?

Oh, and I found the Christmas post's captions.
Apparently they didn't disappear, but got saved automatically as a "draft."

Photos.
Links.
Draft retrieval.

Watch out...

Still Lurking

A few days after I waxed so eloquent in admiration of the "smart, unpretentious, and hilarious" blogger I'd found via my better-than-hip blogging friend Pmom, her posts dried up. Was it something I'd said?

I was sorely tempted to leave a comment. Okay, so I started one, but deleted it because I don't know her. Was tempted to call Pmom and inquire whether she knew if she/her kids/the dog was sick? I resisted.

Turns out she was at the beach.
With her family.
In January.

My admiration continues to grow.

A Little Help From My Friends

I think I've written before about how the chiropractor told me I'm slightly off (insert joke here) and this week I managed to get out of whack just minding my own business, baking in my kitchen. So just two visits to the chiro later (and he's so nice -- when I asked if it's that I'm fat and weak, he told me his worst tweak occurred at 17 going into a 3-point stance on the football field, before anyone had even touched him) and I'm walking around with just soreness and a renewed commitment to daily stretches. And a hideous cold that may be waning.

But this isn't about me. It's about my friend Christine, who came with her "voodoo" to help me with the pain the day I woke up at 3am and couldn't walk. And didn't make me feel bad when I had to bail on setting up and hosting the game for New Beginnings. And brought me some of the caramel popcorn from that night.

And my friend Michele, who came another day to bring me books to read while resting and while here swept the kitchen and wiped the table, insisted on vacuuming the other rooms downstairs, and stowed the leaf for the dining room table so it looks nice in there again.

And Debbie, who followed Michele by twenty minutes, cheerfully carrying in a yummy yummy meal ("can we have dinner early tonight, Mom?") that we enjoyed for two nights.

And Debbie, who showed up with Sprinkles cupcakes about 30 seconds after the first Debbie left and offered to bring homemade mac-n-cheese for dinner tonight. Mmmm.

Completely unsolicited and so much appreciated.

Thank you, friends.

Little Girls Big World

My wise friend Pmom's post about getting ready for the inauguration reminded me how wonderfully blessed we are to live in this country, at this time. And that I should talk to my children about it.

"We can share this with our children as we explain why having our first African American president is a big deal. And how amazing it is, given the scope of human history, that President Bush will simply go home and President Obama will simply move in. No one will bleed or lose his head."

We take that for granted, don't we?

The other day I read about violence in Pakistan, specifically a recounting of the girl who'd had acid thrown in her face on her way to school and the large number of girls' schools that have been destroyed by militants who think that educating girls is "un-Islamic."

My friend Amanda just finished Three Cups of Tea (see post of same title from December 2007) and yesterday we chatted about the inspiring story of the truly amazing Greg Mortensen going into this difficult and dangerous part of the world and doing so much good. I wondered if some of the schools destroyed were "his."

Tomorrow my girls have a holiday from school, thanks to MLK, and the next day is President Obama's inauguration. I am grateful for their inncence, for the blessed circumstances of their lives, but I want them to know why they have a holiday and that this inauguration is special. I am thrilled for all the little girls who will grow up seeing Sasha and Malia in the White House. And my heart aches for those girls in Pakistan.

A Long Time Ago...Everyone Else Saw Star Wars III

You know the episode where we find out how Anakin became Darth? (No need for a spoiler alert at this point, right?) I caught it on TV last weekend and enjoyed making all the little connections, right down to Padme's wink-wink foreshadowing cinnabons. But, ahhh, Anakin, Yoda tried to warn you.

I liked the it's-a-small-galaxy-after-all cameo by Chewbacca. And Obi Wan-nabe Ewan McGregor's voice was eerily reminiscent of original Alec Guinness.

But I think Lucas missed the transport with Senator Organa. I mean, really, how could Leia have ended up so humorless if she were raised by Jimmy Smits?

Lurking

So on some level I am aware that complete strangers can read my blog -- hey, I check out friends' friends' blogs myself. All the time. But it kinda unnerved me to get my first random comment from a complete stranger a few weeks ago, even though the comment was not in the least bit creepy or intrusive. So I deleted it and am pretending it never happened.

I used to read a hilarious blog written by an American woman who married an Italian, lived in Rome, then moved back to the States. I read the Italian version for the challenge and the Engish, sometimes just to compare. But apparently life got too hectic here (shocker) and she put her blog on hiatus. At least I hope it will come back someday. And if it does, I may get up the nerve to comment. But maybe not. Because I still think it is a bit weird to comment on a stranger's blog. Does that surprise you?

Nevertheless, this morning while checking out a friends' blog -- shout out to Pmom, who uses $5 words regularly in conversation and on her blog this morning considerately provided a definition for ameliorate -- unnecessarily for me but perhaps not for you -- I ventured off to check out one of her blogging friends. The name sucked me in.

(By the way, Pmom, howabout swapping Pdad for Pdaddy? Trips off the tongue, doesn't it?)

So I went to this unknown blog with the fantastic name referencing Elvis Costello (!) and I read. And laughed. And guffawed. And quoted until John firmly reminded me he didn't have time for it right now. Hazards of working from home, you know?

And I have to say that I heart this blog. Love love love it. Smart, unpretentious, hilarious. Here is a sampling:

Who would you be more afraid to date in 1980, Michael Jackson or David Lee Roth? How about in 2008?

You might be wondering how I maintain a blog, read other blogs, and check the comments on my blog compulsively. Ladies and gentleman--I'm not Superwoman! I'll let you in on a little secret: Neglect. (accompanying photo shows baby smeared with chocolate)

Remember, an over-scheduled child is one who is enrolled in more classes than yours.

What's not to love?! And she voted for Obama. But now that I have devoted an entire post to my new blog crush I cannot bring myself to comment/gush about it on said blog. I am merely a lurker.

But I'll send my regards via Pmom.