Reconnected...

I had a nearly-hour-long conversation with my friend "N" yesterday. 

I hadn't spoken to her in almost a year (I mean in person or on the phone). She had this job. It was a soul-sucking, time-consuming, all-encompassing job. Such that just about every month, she traveled 50% of the time. And when she was in town, she worked 14-hour days.

Which isn't remarkable as such, since so many people do that today - just to keep employed. 

But what she did was remarkable. She quit. She resigned after dealing with an entirely toxic department, a supervisor who shoveled crap on top of her and then chastised her repeatedly for "not performing to expectations" under conditions which can be considered "hostile" to say the least. After giving directions to an assistant who wouldn't do her job, and then being told that she was being given a "job improvement notice" because she couldn't manage. After writing up the assistant and the assistant complaining to HR about her. I just shake my head at that kind of garbage. 

And she did it the right way. She submitted a resignation note, cleaned out her office without fanfare and left. 

It takes guts to do that. She told me about it while I was in the midst of a therapy visit with Tippi, so I had to wait to call her back. And then during our conversation, she said something which made me stop. "You were the first one I thought about. And I knew that, unlike so many people, you wouldn't have tried to talk me out of walking out."

She's right. I have left soul-sucking jobs. I have done the "travel every month" thing, while trying to raise 2 kids. I would have helped her draft her resignation note. 

We discussed what she wanted to do, what her immediate goals were, and yes, we made plans to get together soon. 

I had missed her. We e-mailed; I tried to network to find her a new place; but she was always on a plane. She was unable to sustain friendships, was having trouble with stress, and was missing out on so much of her family life. 

Was quitting the best response? She's lucky enough to be able to do it. And yes, for her, it was the absolute right thing to do. Yes, the economy is still recovering. And yes, she's at the top of her field and will likely not find another job like that. Which may be a good thing. She's being tagged by the corporate world as "too expensive" -- they can hire 25-year-olds for about 1/3 of her salary. 

And she's ok with that. I have been in her shoes and I have been lucky enough to be able to shed a job that wasn't doing me any good. I look forward to seeing N accomplish her goals: to be a present parent; to concentrate on HERSELF; to learn to knit. Those are things that will matter. Not the job. 

The Turkey...

Lola

So I wrote a check for the turkey yesterday. And about had a heart attack -- this bird had better be good!! Three Maples Farm is a lovely spot; we got to pet the horses and cows. This is Lola. She likes peppermint candies and is shy. 

Hubby about had a fit, too, with the price of Mr. Turkey. But we agreed (sort of) to try something more organic. So we shall see. Right now, Mr. Turkey is in the fridge at work. It'll take him 5 days to thaw, so while I'm at work Saturday (we're having our Thanksgiving early, remember), Hubby will come by and get him. If needed, he'll be getting a cool-water thaw. 

Lola will eventually be hamburger. The woman who runs the farm was telling us that she's been involving her kids in the farm. They understand about "raising what you eat" and the concept of attachment. All her animals have names, and all of them, for the most part, end up on a table somewhere. So the next time we go there, it may very well be that Lola's in the freezer. But if you want to make sure your food is not injected with garbage or fed GMO grain, you go to a local farmer. And you ask. 

The dogs, of course, had a sniff-fest when I came home. They recognized "horse" since I have come home smelling like that. But "cow" was entirely different. They loved it. It's a shame I didn't get to pet the goats or the pig... Three Maples also sells hand-made goat's milk soap. That's on my agenda for gifts. Support the local farmer. 

Various papers

The Storms...

The Shorewood Police Department is acting as a collection spot for storm debris blown up north-east by the horrible storms. Here are some pics of what Hubby collected. He and the dogs were written up in the Chicago Tribune. The Facebook pages coordinating the storm damage "let's return their stuff" efforts are very busy, and I'm so glad social media is working for something good instead of "this is what I ate for dinner" trivialities. 

Some storm debris

Imagine, if you will, losing everything. And then potentially having your identity stolen. Seriously - Hubby found checks, bank statements, a car title, school transcripts, an adoption order. This is tremendously sensitive stuff. If you're in the area of the tornado damage and you have found stuff, please pick it up and bring it to the local police department -- you could be saving someone a lot of heartache. Along with the good folks who pitch in to help - there are also scummy people who'd steal an identity in a heartbeat. 

Sorry about the sideways shots. You get the idea...

Knittting...

The sock comes along. I did nothing on the afghan yesterday. It seems like between the turkey and the Tuesdays with Tippi, I was running all day. 

Migraine News...

Well, I'm having a few more migraines. I'm sure it's because "things are changing." My mom said it gets worse just before you stop having them.

On a good note, though, I just read about a "home remedy" for migraines: the self-induced brain-freeze. In the Chicago Trib's "Health" section, there's a column about various medicines/medical issues. This doctor wrote in, saying that he (or she) suffered from migraines and was caught short without the prescription meds.

So his (or her) friend had him sip ice water and then "gobble down" a bowl of chocolate ice cream. The resulting "brain-freeze" stopped the migraine in its tracks. 

Wow... and I bet there was no Rx hangover!! Hubby said, "Well, I guess I go get some chocolate ice cream!" I can get behind that. My health insurance recently switched me to the generic of my migraine Rx. And it works, but the "hangover" is more significant than with the brand-name. But I won't be able to appeal it on that basis. The basic fact is -- the generic works in this instance, so I'm stuck with it. And the day-long "fuzz" I have afterwards. But at least it stops the migraine. 

However, that "chocolate ice cream" thing...it's tempting!

Dr. Who...

Yay!!! I found a YouTube channel that will simulcast the premier of the Dr. Who 50th Anniversary episode. I have to work. I want to see it. In case you're interested, it's going to be simulcast at www.youtube.com/bbcamerica -- I can't wait. 

I'm a come-lately Whovian. A novice, if you will. My first Doctor was Christopher Eccleston. I've been on a Dr. Who gorge ever since BBC has had their "takeover week" this week. 

I seriously want to knit a Dr. Who scarf. In all the specials, that Doctor said that the director at that time gave "a batch of wool" to a lady and said he wanted a scarf. The woman (I can't remember her name) was given no further direction, so she knit all the wool. That's how that 12-foot scarf came to be. I know - I'm what? 5' 4" if that... a 12-foot scarf knit entirely in garter is crazy-talk. But I want one. What can I say??

Christmas...

I'm done shopping. Sorry - I do a lot online and I am usually early. Well, I have one more thing to get: a chain for Kid #1's girlfriend. I'm giving her an amber charm, and I want to have a chain for it. 

We still have no idea of when we'll actually do the Christmas Eve dinner. It's too early to figure that out yet. I know I'll be doing Midnight Mass and we still have to figure out how to wire my guitar. 

Just about all the online stuff has come in. Hubby teased that he'd "already wrapped" my presents. I will be doing that this weekend; just because once I finish the afghan, I can reclaim my dining room table and we can put up our small tree.

We will probably use the big tree again once our canary goes to Canary Heaven. Right now, his table is in front of the picture window, and our room is small. I have no place to put a big tree - that the dogs won't knock over! I haven't gotten presents for the dogs. I did get Larry the grand-cat a couple of gifts. I figure since I'm baking, it's easy to just bake them some treats, and I wouldn't put those under the tree anyway. 

Politics...

What's wrong with this picture? First, the Bishop in Springfield, IL holds an "exorcism" for Governor Pat Quinn because Quinn's signing a gay marriage bill. Now, this: a Methodist pastor has 30 days to renounce his own gay children. Renounce. His. Own. Children. Classy, right? Just click on the word "renounce" here and see what he says. I admire his stance. 

Gay marriage is not a threat to society. Just like interracial marriage didn't collapse the whole universe. If you don't like gay marriage, don't marry someone of your own sex. Is that a "simple" answer? Well yeah. Because nobody's forcing you to do that. So don't. 

We need to solve unemployment. We need to solve the poverty gap in our country. We are simultaneously the richest and poorest country in the industrialized world. Shame on us. Education needs help (not reform necessarily and certainly not reform by CORPORATIONS because kids aren't widgets). We need to dismantle the "too big to fail" banks back to their original sizes.

And all you want to carp about is gay marriage? Get a grip.

Also, happy birthday to Vice President Joe Biden!! 

Random Picture...

Shades of Blue by Sonda

Digging back in the picture archives. This is a hank of my friend Sonda's hand-dyed yarn. I made a hat out of this. I still have some left. I will probably do something with it, but I'm not sure what. I did also use some to make a bag for my mala beads, but I have at least 100 yards left. 

Sonda started dying her own yarns and then she got sick. I'm not saying that the two are connected. It was just horrible circumstance that she had a malignant melanoma. And they didn't find it till it reached her brain and her lungs; she died at age 55 and I still have trouble believing she's gone. She was a talented knitter and designer, having patterns in several "One Skein" books published. My knitting friend D and I had purchased this yarn, and we gave full hanks back to Sonda's mom. She's using it to knit shawls for Sonda's nieces for Christmas. I had that yellow - it was a tangled mess, and I took it home and spent a weekend unwinding it. I gave it back to her - and it's where it should be. 

I don't have enough of the blue to make an impact so I'm keeping that. 

Time to dive back into the real world. I need a stretch break. 

I'm Speechless...

...and anyone who knows me knows that that's nearly impossible. 

This is why:  http://thinkprogress.org/economy/2013/11/18/2960371/walmart-food-drive/

Yeah, baby - shop Wal-Mart. Shop even on Thanksgiving, but hey - can you go there BEFORE the holiday to drop off some food so that their EMPLOYEES can actually feed their families??

Speechless not so much, as a matter of fact. Look at the facts. "Notoriously low pay." Yeah, poverty-level, actually. The average Wal-Mart "associate" makes $25,000 per year. You want to know what the Federal poverty level is for a family of four? It's $23,550. 

Twenty three thousand five hundred fifty dollars. To feed and house 4 people. It really can't be done. Here is a story on the vast discrepancy between what Wal-Mart management and their workers make... And yeah, it's ok for a CEO to make more than frontline employees. But I can't possibly believe that a man who decides what cheap crap Americans will buy next needs to make more in ONE HOUR than his employees make in ONE YEAR. 

A brain surgeon? A teacher (I wish)? A person discovering the cure to cancer? Yes, THOSE people can - and SHOULD - make tons and tons and tons of money. But not the guy who's screwing his employees out of a living. 

Here's a Daily Beast article on Wal-Mart, too, which you may be interested in. 
http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2013/11/18/walmart-s-dumb-blame-game.html

I think I'm off my Wal-Mart rant. I don't shop there. I know, I know. I'm an elitist snob. Well, yeah, probably. But also, I am lucky enough to have other options. I know a friend of mine, a die-hard liberal, finds it hard to walk into her local Wal-Mart. But she lives in "Nowhere-ville" and has no other options. So you drive 35 miles with gas at nearly $4/gallon or you swallow your distaste and shop where you're at least staying in town. 

Yoga...

So I submitted my first book report (I have 3 more now). I have set up my one private lesson; I have another to set up, and I'll just coerce my kid into it... He'll go along. I also have a "Karma class" I have to do and I've got that in the works. I'll have to have a sign-up sheet on that, because I want to do it for the staff at Will-Grundy Medical Clinic. I have to limit it to no more than 12; usually, unless you've been teaching forever, or you have assistants, a dozen is all you can handle. Or at least all I want to handle!

I haven't yet started to work on the thesis. I know what I want to do, but haven't started the research yet. Hubby will help me do the video. 

I organized a new sequence today; I'm gradually building up a "library" and I like that. Even though, sometimes, the sequence goes out the window when someone walks in with enough issues to make it not likely to happen. I'm very lucky in that I've been doing yoga long enough so that for the most part, I can wing it. And I'm also lucky that I haven't had a lot of problems I can't handle. I'm sure it'll happen at some point...

Oh, we had an employee meeting this past Sunday. Yep. Right in the middle of the hugely bad storms that swept through Illinois. Lucky for us, we only got the crummy weather and some flooding, along with a few trees down...

November Tornadoes...

...while the folks southwest of us got bashed. Hubby has an appointment to visit with a reporter from the Chicago Tribune because even way up here, he found debris in the park. We got no tornado winds. This stuff came up from the southwest; IRA statements, high school pics, a family tree... It seems that this beats the infamous Plainfield tornado of the '90s. Click here for pictures. Or just Google it. It'll knock your socks off. 

Donate, if you can. Lots of people are doing things locally, and there's a Facebook page around if you have some of the debris that flew up here. 

Knitting...

Start of sock...

The pink sock comes along nicely, thanks. Again, sorry for the crummy pics. It's the phone... I have to wait till March before I get the whiz-bang camera on the phone. 

I need to only add 4 more blocks to my charity afghan -- I should say, only 4 more blocks need to be attached, since they're already produced. Then I do a border, and then we're done!!

Cardigan next. Yep. I think I'm ready for that. Along with socks as fill-ins, and washcloths. You need some instant gratification when you're in a long-term project. 

As I go, I'm happy that I've decided on a plain pattern. I do have some lovely Opal that's "fall-ish" and I have a leaf pattern for the leg. But I kind of like no-frills for now. Very mindless knitting. I did quite a few rows last night watching the Bears win and the Packers lose. 

Still need to work on the Nephew Afghan. It's about 1/3 done. It'll go quickly, just that it's bulky and I have till at least February to finish it. At least for the shower. I think for the wedding, they're getting a Holy Family or something totally useless in crystal. 

Music...

Whew!! Plugging along on "All Bells in Paradise" as well as "It Is Well With My Soul" and "I Will Sing" -- Made it through two songs this past week being the sole alto. Of course, it helped that there were only 4 of us in the choir group! But that was also scary, because I had nobody to back me up. I would love it if we could recruit a few more alto women so that I can either sing tenor with Hubby or go back to soprano. 

Leg of sock

And I'm still practicing BOTH versions of "Silent Night" - last year, I played it in the key of A but this year, Tom said "Key of C" - but then he can't remember whether he wants that or not... We'll figure it out, and I know both versions anyway. 

Food...

Will begin The Baking on Thanksgiving weekend. Kid #2 and I are splitting the list again this year. He loves to bake, and I appreciate the help. Potica (po-teet-za) will be done over the Christmas break so we can have it for Easter. 

Cookies include Snickerdoodles, roskis (family recipe), oatmeal, 7-layer bars, cottage cheese crescents (another family fave) and gingerbread. Anyone with a good recipe to share, please use the comments section!! 

I usually over-bake. Then, I usually eat it. Not doing that again this year. Well, probably will over-bake, but I'm getting rid of as much of it as I can. Giving to others, I mean, not eating it!

Random Picture...

This is an old picture of my sister's first grandchild.  I'm ok to post it because I'm not telling you his name, and his mom has posted stuff on her FB page. Isn't he a cutie?? 

I can't wait to see him and his siblings over Thanksgiving. 

No, I'm not in a hurry for my own grandkids. I just enjoy these kids. I can give them back! 

I did go today, while buying mousetraps for my campus, and get Christmas gifts for my "grandcat" Larry. She (yes, it's a girl) now has 2 little bags of snacks and two toys: one of them is some sort of fluff-ball thing that you can drag along the floor, and the other is a light up ball that she can bat around and play with. 

Hey, I'm happy. She'll be happy. It's all good. 

News Filters Everyone Can Use...

So Rex Huppke is definitely getting cookies for Christmas. He nailed it again in his column in today's Chicago Tribune. "It's Sen. McConnell's world, and only his news lives in it" -- see if you can find it, because the Tribune site is slightly weird.

Anyway, apparently, Mr. Mitchy only wants news HE wants. Huppke indicated that at a recent news conference, Mitchy "made it clear that bad Obamacare news was all he was willing to discuss."

Here's the quote, right from his own mouth: "I prefer the news of that day to be what I'd like for it to be rather than what you all may be interested in pursuing."

Alllllllll-righty thennnnnnnnnn. I guess the only news I want to hear is stuff about cute fluffy puppies and a great yarn sale. Oh, and a good book sale, too, please. 

And, apparently, in the most recent news conference, President Obama says that he's just fine with your insurance company CONTINUING to sell you crappy insurance. Here's the CNN link. So basically, you can keep your crappy insurance for another year. Good luck with that, since that crappy insurance basically covers nothing. 

And if you all remember (or care to look it up), people were also slow to sign up for RomneyCare - human beings are procrastinators. They figure they have till January at least, so why rush? Apparently, there are people who have actually paid for coverage, but people who - like a lot of internet shoppers, have the policy "in their cart" but are not (for whatever reason - see said procrastination) paying for it yet. 

Again, remember: The insurance companies basically wrote this legislation. Nobody -- I mean NOBODY -- should believe that this is "health-care reform." It's only very basic "insurance reform" and it looks like it's not even very basic now. 

Yoga...

So our friends at Lululemon are still at it. Winning friends and influencing yogis all across the globe, I guess. First you have sheer pants. Then you recall them, bring them all new pants, and now, you say "sheer" is basically because women wearing Lulu pants are "fat." Yep. See this petition at change.org - and the statements of their tone-deaf president. Here's the thing. I got the "stink-eye" when I went to a Lulu store a while ago. I was heavy. Well, no. I was fat. Obviously, the stick-thin mannequins in the store should've told me what I needed to know. But the condescending eyeball of the saleswoman? That did it. 

I would never buy yoga clothes from that store, even if they did buckle and make them in something larger than "Barbie-size." 

As far as my training is going, I'm working on the book reports; still haven't done much on the thesis work. I need to start that research and the get a script written. And then get Hubby to help videotape it all. 

And I have to get in 2 private lessons, plus a couple of "karma yoga" sessions (free to under-served populations). I will be setting those up in the studio where I teach; I've already gotten permission. 

Knitting...

Finished the latest Fluffy Scarf. I have only 2 more to go! Yay! 

I have the pink Opal sock to work on, and I think that over the Christmas break, I will start a sweater. My friend D actually gave me a sweater that no longer fits her, and all it needs is a sleeve. Problem is, she's still looking for that last ball of yarn... Anyway, if that yarn is found, I may well just finish that one. 

Health...

Well, the eye infection I got over the weekend is healing. It still looks like I've been up for a couple nights in a row, but I'm not itching and I can go outside without acting like Bela Lugosi in a vampire movie.

And how about those new cholesterol guidelines?? Yeah - just put MORE people on statins since they work so well... Basically, the experts say that doctors need to sort patients into 4 groups (those 4 groups are the ones for whom statins are recommended): patients with heart disease; all people ages 40-75 with Type II diabetes; those with LDL cholesterol of 190+; and anyone who has a 7.5% or greater risk of developing heart disease or stroke in the next decade.  That last category worries me, because that could be any of us. 

The estimates are that now, with these new guidelines, up to thirty million (yep, THIRTY million) people could be put on statins. 

We all know that high LDL is bad. And we often feel (at least *I* often feel) that doctors are at the mercy of Big Pharma. They don't push the most common-sense things to do: Lose weight and exercise. Cut out crap food. Move more, eat less.

And that's because that stuff is hard, and I'm sure they've made that speech a zillion times, only to be told, "Doc I just can't do it." Well, big difference between "can't" and "won't." There's no magic pill, folks. 

Statins are not nice drugs. Sure, they benefit some. But look at what the Mayo Clinic says about the side effects. Muscle pain and damage. Liver damage. Digestive damage. Increased blood sugar. And the ever-wonderful "neurological side effects."  Women are the most prone to these side effects, too. Aren't we lucky?

Thanks, I'll keep trying the old-fashioned way to keep my numbers where they need to be. 

Music...

Trying desperately to learn 3 new pieces for church. In addition to memorizing a guitar piece. And - I haven't been able to attend the rehearsals. Urgh. Hubby put the music on Sibelius (v. 7) and I'm picking away at it. Our strongest alto is in Florida and presumably will be there through Christmas. Drats. 

The trouble is, it seems that two of the pieces are right in the middle of my range. I'm soprano-to-alto, and this is some sort of weird tenor-ish stuff. Oh well. I have to learn the alto part, so off we go. 

Reading...

Just downloaded Amy Tan's latest and can't wait to dive in. I love her writing. "The Valley of Amazement" is a story about a Chinese courtesan. She said in an interview that it "may be" based on some family history. 

Well, reading that, the Yarn Harlot (again) and the yoga books. It's keeping me busy, that's for sure. 

I have yet to dig into the Portable Faulkner that the kids got me for Christmas. I did ask them for 2 yoga books, though. They wanted to know what I wanted for Christmas and I don't need anything else. 

Except those slippers I mentioned a while ago, and I know Hubby is already getting those for me. 

Random Picture...

Comfy Tippi

Yes. Amazing Tippi cuteness. This was her, on Hubby's lap, last night. Of course, it does look uncomfortable. But she just gets in these weird positions. She has been known to curl herself up into this little grey donut shape and cuddle with me when she's stressed.

She's also been known to take up the entire couch. All 6 feet of it. I suppose if you stretch, extend your curly tail and just look as if you owned the furniture, the humans will let you be.

I've had very "flexy-bendy" dogs, apparently, because I'm also including one of Quinn. If you can see, her nose is about 2" from the floor. 

Quinn headstand

Yes, upside down, getting a belly rub from Kid #2. She plows onto the couch, stares at me if I happen to be sitting next to Hubby, and then HUBBY moves, so that Quinn can sit between us. 

When Kid #2 is on the couch, she barrels up there, puts her head down, and flips her butt over so that he can rub her belly. And as soon as I can catch that on video, I will do that. 

Photos...

It seems as if the majority of the pictures on my phone are dog pictures. Very rarely kid pictures, though I did warn the kids that this Thanksgiving, we're taking pictures to put up on our family's Christmas website.

We've given up writing the annual Christmas letter. They're usually tossed anyway. But this year, since I have all those pics from our trip, we are going to do our ecological duty, saving paper, and just including a link in our Christmas cards. If you want to look at it, fine. If not, I'll never know!

Off to learn that music. Can anyone help me figure out why my external speakers are not working??? Ugh. 

The Things That Happen...

...when you're busy making plans of your own!

Turns out that on Saturday, when I was at work, I sort of scared my student worker. Apparently, I was concocting an eye infection and my left eye looked ... well, awful. It looked like classic pink-eye, but it didn't FEEL like it. 

Weaving together

After I assured her that I wasn't going to give it to her (she's a biology major - they know about bugs...), I texted my sister. See, the twins' christening was this past Sunday and I knew that eye infections were highly contagious. 

My sister, the nurse, with all compassion (I'm sure) said to me: "You bring an eye infection here and I'll have to kill you." Well, yeah. Point taken. 

I went to the local Quick Care (an oxymoron for all times) and yep, no "pink-eye" but definitely an eye infection. I got some drops and was told to check with my GP today, because they want to be careful of eye infections. 

Sure enough, I missed the christening and just as sure enough, today I awoke with the OTHER eye infected. Confirmed by the doc, no meeting tonight for me, and I'm just sitting at home waiting for the drops to kick in. 

Crochet filler

Which brings me to...

Knitting...

The charity afghan is coming along. I'm on the next-to-last top row, so about 8 squares to go. I'm working on a crochet bit to fill in and it's going along pretty smoothly. I hope to set that aside in a bit and work on the sock.

I have to work on the afghan without my glasses (it's close work) so I can only work on it for a little while before my eyes hurt. 

That's ok. I'm not going anywhere.

Politics...

I love Rex Huppke. If you don't know him, he's a columnist for the Chicago Tribune. He writes a workplace column, and he's kind of the anti-John Kass. And I usually like Kass, but he's rather on the conservative side. And he's a White Sox fan. But he's a good cook, and I have actually had a couple of conversations with him. He actually reviewed a couple of columns I wrote for the Joliet Herald, so I do feel a little kinship with him.

But I like Huppke's writing overall. His column today reflects the inherent craziness of the uber-gun-nut. I'd link it here, but I guess you have to be a DigitalPlus member... Bummer. 

Anyway, as you may know, a columnist at Guns & Ammo magazine recently wrote an editorial - the December issue of the magazine featured this title: Let's talk limits. Do certain firearms regulations really constitute infringement? and the writer opined that perhaps there are some logical regulations that can and should be put on certain firearms.

Well. Of course, the loyal readers of Guns & Ammo went nuts. Absolutely NO restrictions, by golly. The Founding Fathers didn't want that. 

Hang on -- what about that "well-regulated militia" phrase in the 2nd Amendment? Well, not so fast, you liberal hippie-commie... 

Huppke did a hilarious take-off on this of course, and basically pokes holes in the fabric of the irrational thinking of the gun people. 

The Founding Fathers didn't envision an Internet where you could, with relative ease and some anonymity, buy loads and loads of ammo and high-powered guns. Heck, the Founding Fathers barely conceived of anything other than a musket.

The upshot of this (ba-dum) is that Guns & Ammo fired the columnist (his name is Dick Metcalf in case you actually want to read his piece) and also the editor (Jim Bequette) for having the absolute chutzpah to actually PRINT Metcalf's column. 

Sorry, but Metcalf's attempt to honestly evaluate the need for some regulation is just plain common sense, people. The firing is ridiculous, and doesn't bode well for an outsider to actually conceive of Guns & Ammo as anything but a hysterical mouthpiece for drooling crazies who think that an overly-armed, ill-trained people is exactly what the Founders wanted. 

I can't see that. The Founders said "well-regulated militia" because they meant that. People need to calm down and actually think about what it is that phrase - and that Amendment - means to us. 

There are no easy answers. But the easiest thing to see is that getting hysterical and demanding NO regulation isn't the best answer. 

I should write Rex a note and offer to bake him cookies. That was an outstanding column today. 

Reading...

I started Judith Lasater's book, Living Your Yoga, while I sat in Quick Care this morning waiting to get my eyes checked. It's a good book. I have to read it for my 200-hour certification and it moves along quickly. 

I finished re-reading Daphne DuMaurier's classic Rebecca this morning. It's enough like the movie. But not. Read it if you get the chance.

I'm almost done re-reading Donna Farhi's Bringing Yoga to Life - again for the certification. I have to read 4 texts, and do a small report on each. I have one done. And Farhi's book is actually a repeat, so let's just say I have 2 of the four done. 

November Snow

Snow...

Yes, it snowed. Last night. Started as "snizzle" and ended up covering the grass and some of the cars. Here's what our garden looks like. 

Kid #1, back from his vacation, texted me this a.m. to say that he can't remember a recent November snow. 

I love it. I hope it's a portent of a snowy winter. Please don't pelt me with anything you have in your hand. I love winter, and I enjoy winter sports. 

I think that living in a place with 4 actual seasons is a good thing, and with global warming, those seasons haven't been as distinct as usual. I miss that. 

Speaking of global warming, please help send out some kind thoughts (and perhaps donations?) to the folks in the Philipines. They just got whalloped with a huge typhoon (read about it from BBC here) and it looks like there's another storm on its heels. 

Living in Illinois, we know the devastation of a tornado. This storm was incredibly fierce, and according to most reliable climatologists, with the effects of global warming, storms will come up quicker and be more volatile - and vicious. 

This storm highlights the dangers inherent in living in a Third World country. And yes, I'd classify the Philipines as Third World. They have tremendous poverty; this storm has shown clearly that they have virtually no infrastructure in place to handle such a horrible thing; and they have a depressed economy. 

Please consider helping if you can. 

Random Picture...

September

Since it was about 26* this morning, I thought you would like this picture of my dashboard from about 2 months ago. As I left work, the temperature outside was 104*. It was an abnormally hot summer. There's that global warming thing again. 

And no, not just because it was hot. Because it was late in the season for the hot. Because the storms we had this summer were outside the norm. And because the winter looks to be really wonky this year, in spite of my wish for a "normal" Illinois winter. 

Of course, my car is parked in a lot that's open - there are no shade trees to speak of. Honey Locust trees are pretty, but useless. And sitting all day on asphalt? Well, yeah, it'll be hot. But that day, it was rather abnormal and I remember having trouble with the HVAC in our campus. 

We're still having trouble! No heat -- or actually, SOME heat, but we need one of the rooftop units replaced or repaired. Not fun, but it gives me a chance to wear my sweaters and shawls. May as well show off the knitting, right? 

Veteran's Day, Armistice Day, Remembrance Day...

See the title, and wonder why? 

Women's Memorial - Vietnam War

Well, November 11 is many things. Armistice Day, which is probably the oldest form of recognition of this day, is the day, November 11, 1918, when fighting in World War I (wasn't that the "Great War"?) ceased, with the signing of an "armistice" between the Allies and Germany. 

An "armistice" is an acknowledgement between warring parties that the fighting will stop. It can be a permanent one or a temporary halt to the war. It's also defined as "truce."

Remembrance Day is held also on this date in the UK. It's also called "Poppy Day." Everyone wears red poppy pins to commemorate those lost in war and those who returned. At 11 a.m. on 11/11, a two-minute silence is observed. 

Also, for the women vets out there, on this day in 1993, a bronze statue honoring the more than 11,000 US women who served in the Vietnam War was dedicated in Washington DC. It's hard to remember the women... particularly because often, the women had behind-the-scenes roles which were vital. Women serving as drivers, nurses, aides - all of those women did fight the war. Maybe not with guns, but I can't even imagine being in a field hospital and seeing the carnage. And then perhaps having someone think that you "didn't really fight" in the war. Really? 

Veterans Day is the US version of Armistice Day and Remembrance Day. In our country, it's a commemoration of every war in which the US fought. 

Flags up and down the entryway

Oh, and it's also all about the sales. Sorry for the whiplash, but truly: check out the numerous signs and flyers advertising "Veterans Day Sale"... And go ahead, shake your head. 

Our main campus recognizes the day by having flags placed along the drive in and out. It's not the best picture, but here is what I was able to catch. You get the idea. We have a great guy who's the Veteran Liaison and he's been instrumental in helping local vets get hooked up with financial aid, counselors, and getting them ready for "re-entry" into the civilian world. It's not easy. 

Even if you're in the peacetime military (if anyone remembers that), you would go out on cruises, out on missions - you were maybe stationed far from home. All of that is very foreign to the civilians back home, and when you came back, you were forever changed - and so were the folks you left. In the Navy particularly: you have a 6-month cruise, and you leave your spouse and a couple of kids. She has to take care of everything. Everything. And then you come home. 

That re-entry is difficult at best. Particularly because couples often clashed in terms of whose job was whose. Which roles were whose. Who did what with the kids. What the routines were, and how they were established. All of that is hard work. And that's why military marriages are hard. 

The poem most associated with this day is called "In Flanders Fields," and it was penned by Lt. Colonel John McCrae.


Here it is:

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   Loved and were loved, and now we lie
         In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
   The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
         In Flanders fields.

That should give you goosebumps. If it doesn't, please check your pulse. 

Pause for a moment today - it doesn't have to be at 11 a.m. -- but pause. And thank those who didn't come home, as well as those who have come home, forever changed by what they saw and what they remember.

Knitting...

Opal Sock

Yes, I cast on another pair of socks. Here it is so far. The yarn is Opal Diamant. It's a bicolor, and looks prettier than my crummy camera on my phone can make it. Dye lot is 6526 and color is 660. At least I think that's the order they're in. Opal labels are not in English, for the most part! 

The DPNs are Knitter's Pride "Cubics" - they're wood, and they feel very fragile compared to my Kollage aluminum needles. I'm using a very plain pattern - just a cuff of about 1" and then straight knitting. Maybe boring, but the color changes add enough interest; I don't want to obscure the colors with a busy pattern. 

I will get back to the Teal Sock. I'm just mad at it now, and we need a Time-Out. 

Christening...

I wish I could say I have pictures of the twins' Christening. But I don't. I wasn't even there. It's this way... I had a rash and went to the doctor for a fix. The fix gave me a  horrible reaction - like hives all over my body. And on top of that, I thought I had pink-eye. I actually DO have an eye infection, but (whew!) it's not pink-eye. 

However, the doctor told me "wash your hands a lot and stay away from kids." It's still catchy. It's looking lots better, but I thought that since I was contagious, nobody would appreciate me being there. 

That's how the Opal socks came about... I stayed home from church and the christening, watched a lot of old movies and worked on the sock. 

Weather...

We have "snizzle" in the forecast for today. Snow/drizzle, for those of you in warmer climates. Yep. Just a taste of what the next 3 months or so might bring us. Personally, I'm hoping for a snowy winter, because I want to get out my snowshoes. Which brings me to....

Holiday Creep...

What is with people? So far, Mercedes started their holiday commercials right after Halloween, and now there are several stores opening on THANKSGIVING Day. Really? And Sirius satellite radio announced this morning that their holiday channels start tomorrow. 

This is too much. Kid #2 says that Thanksgiving is his favorite holiday, but now lately, "...it's the butt-crack between Halloween and Christmas." 

That's about right. 

We go to pick up the turkey on the 19th. We are having Thanksgiving early - and before anyone says that that's kind of hypocritical, let me just say that in our family, it's practical - and a matter of survival. 

My brother has to go to his in-laws. You know the family dynamic, and if you're lucky enough to not have that kind of weird, please bow your head in thanks. 

My nephew (dad of the twins) has a second family to visit, and his wife has a wide variety of "steps" to visit. Those kids run ragged, and it's not fair to the babies, either.  

As well, this year, Thanksgiving and Hanukkah are on the same day. Or I should say that Hanukkah begins on November 28. To me, though, that's just a regular calendar thing. 

This bit about having people shop on the ONE DAY that everyone agreed was "hands-off" is a bit much. Today in the Trib, Macy's said they were acknowledging that people need family time, so they're opening at 8 p.m. Nice. 

Not.

I think that we need a non-commercial holiday. We need to not be out there looking for "the next best thing" to put under a tree. We need to spend time with parents, grandparents, etc. The cousins need to get together. We need to share stories more than we need to park at a mall and shop.

So while we'll have the "non-traditional" day on the Sunday before, I like having the actual day to our own family. The first time we did this, I think my mom was feeling bitter, "Nobody wants to stay at MY house..." etc. I did remind her that Hubby hasn't been home for a Thanksgiving in many years and that she really has to get over that feeling. Now, though - even she's liking the Sunday-before thing. Nobody has to rush to get anywhere, and it seems less stressful. Kid #2 will be late, because it's his school's "Step-Up Day" and he has to be there. But then, he wears his "Teacher Duds" to my mom's house and she gets all squishy. It all works out well. 

Random Picture...

Lake view, Mt. Bre

I'm pretty sure that this is Hubby's picture, but I can't remember. What I do remember is that this is the view from the mountain, Mt. Bre, on the Day We Saw the Mountains in France and Switzerland. I wasn't going to hike down to this view, because I was tuckered, but I did. And I hiked all the way back, too. I was a dripping mess, but yes, the view was definitely worth it. 


Kid #2 requested a picture of Mt. Blanc, and I think this might be the one I give to Kid #1. Both kids love the mountains, and I know they'll love these pictures. 

That trip was indeed a trip. I think it's one of my fondest times. So far, at least. 

I Needed This Whack in the Head...

I basically like Ellen DeGeneres; I think she's funny. I don't think you have to be raunchy to be funny, or mean. And I like that she will stand up for issues that are important to women.

So I found this clip on Facebook. I'm (a) happy that it says what it says; and (b) still flabbergasted. This lovely model speaks truth. Think about it, please. She's 6'2" tall and a size 12. Size. Twelve. And she's a "plus-size" model. What she says about loving your body just resonated with me. 

The "flabbergastication" comes from the whole idea that, first of all, she's a "plus-size." She's as big as my kid, for cryin' out loud! She probably weighs less than he does, too. And as a size 12, she looks so incredibly healthy. Second, why is a size 12 (when the average woman is about a size 14 or 16) considered "plus"? Are we nuts? 

Well, I know the answer to that one. Yes. We are. We worship women who look like sticks. And sadly, we worship the designers who make clothes that don't look good on you unless you are said stick. Nobody past the age of an anorexic teenager looks like that. Heck, even my one student worker, an adorable 20-year-old, has curves. And she's tiny. 

So, look here. Do you get that what you see on the cover of a magazine isn't even real? Then think about what we are telling ourselves and the girls in our lives. Well, first off, we're telling them they're not worthy unless they're skinny. And beautiful. Oh, and skinny.... (yes, I repeated that deliberately). 

Early Marilyn

I'm not either of those things. And I'm also short. If I'm true to what the first clip is telling me, I would say, "Yes, I am beautiful." But for the sake of this discussion, I'm pretty happy with "I'm normal-looking" - I'm not striking. I'm totally not Photoshopped! I think I look fat in photos, and that's after losing those 30 lbs. 

I am approximately a size 12-14, depending on what the outfit is, because of course, adding to the confusion, sizes in the US are not standardized. I used to say that I liked going into the Chico's because they have me at a size 4...notwithstanding the fact that their size 4 is just a marketing gimmick...all of their clothes are sized from 0 - 4. And most of them are things I wouldn't wear anyway. They fit funny, too. 

Marilyn Monroe was a size 14. So, Marilyn, the ultimate and timeless "goddess" -- she's a plus-sized person who isn't the conventional "beauty." I mean, good grief - yes, she was beautiful, but not necessarily because of physical beauty. Look at an "early Marilyn" shot above. (all of these photos were pulled from Google) She's a cute kid. There's a spark of "something" there, which is most likely what caught some producer's eye. But other than looking like a somewhat typical blonde, she's certainly not anything like she ended up looking after Hollywood got hold of her. Truth be told, she was a brunette anyway. Blonde came later.

Bathing suit shot

Here's Marilyn in a bathing suit. First of all, notice that the bathing suit actually consists of fabric... Ahem. Sorry. But this sideways shot shows (gasp!) a belly. And a bustline that looks pretty much the same as the "Early Marilyn." This is of course part of her "Hollywood-ization" and shows more of a glamour-girl persona. But you can still see that spark of her in there. 

Heck, she even looks like she's got a little meat on her bones in the area of her spine. I'm not being disrespectful. If anything, I'm trying to point out that we look a lot more like Marilyn than we do say... Heidi Montag. 

Take a look at Heidi's "before and after" picture below. Honestly. Really? I'm rather dumbfounded. Why on earth did she want to look like the image on the right? What did she learn? That she wasn't "good enough" looking like she did on the left? She was a pretty girl. 

Now? Not so much. Again, not being disrespectful. Disdainful maybe. Judgmental definitely. And that's because I see this kind of stuff happening when I see what's in the girl's department of the local stores. Hyper-sexualizing looks and making sure that the girl doesn't feel worthy of attention unless something's buffed, puffed, or sucked - often before they even have a chance to develop their own identities, much less their own bodies. Ms. Montag now says she "regrets" what she did to herself. That bit of maturity came at a heck of a price. Does anyone look her in the face anymore? Or are they stopped half-way up? 

Before and after...

I mean, I was an "early bird." I developed somehow overnight at age 11. Went past "training bra" into "real bra" well before my friends did; I remember my mother remarking on how those training bras "were a waste of money, but maybe your sister can use them." The joke among the females in my family was that I got everyone's share from the Bosom Fairy. I wasn't cool with that joke for a long time. Now, I'm resigned. 

 I've learned to cope with the girls, and I've learned that I often have to remind people (men, sorry, but there it is) that I do have a head stuck atop my neck, thank you very much. Particularly when I worked in a more male-dominated field. "Hey, what color are my eyes?" was a standard question when someone was being a jerk. I learned early to develop my sense of sarcasm and my brains, since my sister was "the cute one" (and yes, she's still paying for that one!). I never had a "typical" figure. My build was along my great-grandma's - very "zaftig" - curvy and rather classic. However - having said that, look here at Urban Dictionary... Check out the definitions. I'm looking at the word "zaftig" as in definition number three. That's what I was taught that the word means. It's been subverted. Look at definition number five. Fat? Thanks. I prefer "Rubenesque" if you don't mind. 

Yes, I was told at an early age that I was fat. My mother put me on my first diet somewhere around my freshman year in high school. That wasn't helpful. I've been battling my own body image ever since. One of my lasting later memories of Granny gets me right in the gut. No, that's not a pun. My grandmother had the luck to never fluctuate in weight. Except for pregnancy (I think, at least - I'm not sure), she never weighed more than about 128 lbs. her entire life. 

As she aged, the controls went off. You know what I mean. Some of it was deliberate. "I'm 90 years old, I can say what I want." And then closer to 95, sadly, she got downright mean. Along with the dementia, there was anger or something in there. I'm not sure what. But I do remember that I didn't like visiting her. I didn't mind repeating the same thing over and over and over. I didn't mind her stories about the relatives; I actually liked those! But I vividly remember coming into her room one afternoon. She always confused me with a cousin, which was funny since we are nothing like each other. Anyway, I said, "Hi Grandma, it's me!" and she looked me in the eye and said, "You've gotten fat again." 

Thanks. That made my visit even more fun. The sad thing was that my rational brain said "You know it's the dementia. You know she's been getting worse. Blow it off."

The 13-year-old girl in me just collapsed. I swallowed, tried not to cry, and said, "Nice to see you." I was thankful that my kids weren't with me. 

So I need to practice what I'm preaching here. My body in its younger years was amazing. I was a gymnast (no, not one of those skinny kids) and volleyball player. I had a strong serve, and while I wasn't tall enough to be a spiker, I was a mean setter. My apparatus in gymnastics was the even parallel bars. Yes, the guys' apparatus, thanks. And I was good at it. I loved to ride horses. I ice skated. I played tennis. I rode my bike all over God's green acres. It was an old bike, none of this fancy gear-shifting stuff. A one-speed! 

And now? I'm in my mid-50s. I teach yoga. I am still very flexible. I am capable of a lot of things. I can and do ride my bike (now it IS one of those fancy gear-shifting ones). I can still ice skate, thanks. I love to snow shoe. I play golf. I can shove furniture around with the best of them, and I can hike a whole case of copy paper up on my shoulder, taking it from point A to point B with no problem, thanks. I enjoy shoveling snow. 

Glam Marilyn

I need to make that my mantra. I need to accept what I have been given. Instead of saying, "Well, I'm better off than a lot of people," (which is still true, though somewhat self-defeating for this purpose) I need to specifically say, "I am grateful that I have flexibility. I am grateful that I am healthy." 

Here's a picture of "glam Marilyn." Is she beautiful? Undoubtedly. Ethereal. Otherworldy. Stunning. 

And with the saddest eyes I've ever seen.