Melinda 2 Mindy

Go to Scout

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 18:58:00 +0000

My cousin Pammy has opened a new store in Royal Oak. You can read about it here, or go check it out in person. She always has the best stuff.

http://pnsdigital.com/mallonmain/image/2009/10/30/SCOUTWINDOW.jpg

Nanner Muffins

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 23:46:00 +0000

After I complained on FB about how my attempt to make banana bread resulted in a pile of mush, my friend Darrin sent me this:

Nanner Muffins - Grandma McAlister's Recipe

OK so this is a recipe I got from my Mom's Mom (my Grandma). She used to make these for all the grandkids for their birthdays. It took Sue and I about 2 years to make them "exactly" like her since the recipe was all in "pinches and dashes and handfuls" of ingredients. Don't have Bananas? Chop up apples and use apple sauce instead and add a "dash" of cinnamon.
Don't throw away any bananas - if they turn too brown for the kids (or you) to eat - pop them in the freezer and save them for when you want to make these muffins. Just pop them in the microwave long enough to soften the skin and thaw the inside a bit.
So... here it is...

2 1/4 Cups flour
3/4 Cup sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 Cup shortening or margarine
1 1/2 Cup mashed bananas (brown are best - use about 2 large or 3 smaller nanners - don't through any away)
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla

Put in paper muffin cups in a muffin tin or just a greased muffin tin and bake at 375 for about 20 minutes (until browned on top). Remove and cool for a few minutes then place in a tupperware (or anything to cover them and keep the moisture in... this is part of the secret and the reason it took 2 years)

Good Luck! - If they are good, you owe me a muffin!

I thought it was cute that he called his Grandma "Nanner" but then then I thought about it some more.

So I made the muffins, substituting egg replacer for the eggs. I also added walnuts. They came out great! They could probably be a little sweeter, I think that might be a function of how brown the bananas were, so I'm going to try to make another batch and see. But these were definitely the best LOOKING thing I have ever baked, so I took a picture, check it out:

It Adds Up

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 00:26:00 +0000

Yesterday one of those things happened that seems like a small thing, but because there was some coincidence involved, it seemed like a signal to take notice.

Jeffrey was home from school because he complained of a stomach ache. By the end of the afternoon he was feeling better so we agreed to go to Rite Aid to buy vitamin water and then pick Tim up from school. When we got to Rite Aid Jeffrey remembered that he needs a calculator for math class, and that they have the kind he needs there.

The reason he needs a new calculator is because last year I bought a nice new one for Tim that did all the advanced functions needed for his math class. I was very pleased to get it at a good price on clearance, just after the back-to-school sales. Within a matter of days, it was GONE. I got really aggravated with Tim because he said that he must have left it in class or somewhere, and then it was stolen. I insisted that he check the lost and found and ask his teachers if any calculators had been turned in, and then I went on a rant about who would steal a calculator, and why wouldn't such a person consider the feelings of the person who had lost it and turn it in?

Well the darned thing never turned up and Tim got through the year using the app on his cell phone or old cheap calculators we have laying around the house. The kind you get for free that look like credit cards.

Then this school year started and Jeffrey needs a good calculator for his 6th grade honors math class. I hadn't gotten around to buying one yet, partly because I hate to pay full price for such a thing at Rite Aid. But there we were, and Jeffrey was asking for it, so I pulled it off the hook and put it in our basket.

When we got to the high school to pick up Tim, he saw that we had bought the calculator and said that it was funny but he found a calculator on the floor during band class earlier in the day.

Really?

I asked him what he did with it and he said that he turned it in to the teacher. He told me that it was an expensive graphing calculator, and that whoever lost it would be upset to lose something that cost about a hundred dollars. And, he added, he knew that I would notice it if he suddenly pulled out something like that to do his homework.

The Quinky Dink part of this is that I know when his band class is and it is quite possible that the very same moment he was picking it up from the floor, I was pulling the new one off of the hook at the store.

The thing for me to notice about this small incident was that when faced with the decision about what to do with the found calculator, Tim did the right thing and turned it in. That decision was at least partly influenced by his memory of what I had said in the past, and how he anticipated I would react if I found out he had kept it.

I think that might boil down to the goal of all parenting, which is that you hope you get your kids to do the thing you would want them to do even when you aren't there to tell them what that is. It feels even better than the things I don't truly influence but am always at the ready to take the credit for, such as my kids being good looking, musically talented, or good at math.

But then, as I wallowed in my smug satisfaction, the thought occurred to me that the "right thing" in this situation is relative to my own perception of what "right" is. Where I got this perception could have been from my own parents, or church, or even from watching all those Brady Bunch episodes. It occurred to me that what I think is right is sometimes different from what I might actually do. And, that other people might have an entirely different perspective on the situation, and their reaction to their kid pocketing a found calculator could be "Way to go! Now we don't have to buy you one! Check around the floors tomorrow and see what else you can scoop up!" It still meets my definition of successful parenting. even if that person's kid passes my kid up in the corporate world, or excels in sports, or politics.

Maybe what we parents really want for our children is not for them to fear us, or please us, or to be just like us. We want them to be...better.

Doll Show

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 02:10:00 +0000

My sister Becky asked me to go with her to a Doll Show in Hazel Park. I agreed, because these are always interesting. This time I brought my camera so you could enjoy it too.

There were the usual collections of dolls that you might expect:

Classics like Shirley Temple

Kewpie dolls that remind me of the expression Jeffrey used to make when he was a baby:

Barbies Displayed in boxes

Barbies in bags

Barbies with great outfits
Lots of Madame Alexander Dolls

I had this Alice in Wonderland doll. In fact I still do, but she is not nearly in this good condition:

I think that this is the Cinderella that my friend Susie had. I thought she was the best.

This doll had pansies, I thought she was so pretty:

We wondered if our cousin Pammy ever had these Pebbles and Bam-Dolls. If not, she would have wanted them.

For the guys

Some collections such as these

Paper Dolls too!

There were collections of shoes

And arms. (I know, kind of disturbing!)

And, of course, there was the weird:

At the end I bought Becky a doll for her Christmas Present. She has to wait until December 25

Halloween 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 02:06:00 +0000

Jeffrey was a Banana

Frankenstein

Put a Lid on It

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 15:00:00 +0000

We got a new roof put on the house yesterday. It was just not enjoyable at all to have to fork over such a large chunk of our dwindling savings for something that I really don't notice very much. I know, I would notice it quite a bit if it was raining on my head, but still a new roof just isn't my idea of fun.

I felt all gross yesterday because I didn't take a shower. The roof guys got here pretty early, and I just felt weird about showering while there were all these strange men crawling all around outside. Maybe that's paranoid of me but that's how I am.

At one point in the morning the doorbell rang and it was a man from the roof crew asking to use the bathroom. I told him no, because I really didn't want to be letting these guys in the house, and because Jay, the project supervisor, had told me that I didn't have to do that when we met with him earlier.

Jay is a very large man who wears a bright orange and black jacket. He came to the door and asked me if I wanted him to take pictures of the roof while they were working on it. I couldn't imagine why I would want pictures of that, but since he was asking I figured that must be a standard procedure for insurance purposes or something. I figured that I could at least share them with my uncle Tom who is retired from the roofing industry, in case he had an interest.

It was nerve-racking, to say the least, being in the house with all that stomping and hammering going on. Poor Missy the cat was beside herself, rushing all around and meowing pathetically. I wished that I could explain to her what was happening. Then I found out that Kendrea, who lives across the street, had to listen to her dog Tucker barking in unison with the hammers all day. Even worse!

Later in the day another neighbor, Gretchen, sent me a message that she liked the new color of the roof. I realized that she probably notices our roof a lot more than I do since she can see it from the windows of her house. I'm glad that she gets some enjoyment out of this!

I sat down at the kitchen table to have a snack and noticed one of the workers walking through the back yard into the woods. At first I wasn't sure what he was doing but then I figured it out. Ew! I averted my gaze. My fault for not letting them into the house, I suppose.

That happened one more time and then I saw the black and orange of big Jay heading back there. Not you too Jay! I was about to lose all respect when he stopped short of the woods and looked down at our little frog pond. He spent kind of a long time looking in there, and I watched him go get a stick and then poke around a bit, just like all the kids do. Then he looked up and shouted to his crew "There's like five frogs in there! I counted them!" He had such a look of delight on his face that I just had to smile. A great big kid. I'm glad that he got to enjoy that.

Finally the roof was complete. We handed over the check and Big Jay gave me the pictures. I thanked him and then he told me that's a new thing he's doing for the customers, we're the first. I don't know what anyone else will do with their roof pictures but I do kind of like mine. So I'm posting them here for you to enjoy:

This one shows the view of the lake from our roof, (and part of the newly fertlized woods)

And here's the view of Kendrea's backyard from up high. Too bad it didn't capture Tucker out there barking, that would have been cute!

Now that it's over I can relax. I am glad that we were able to get this done. Not everyone these days even has a roof over their head. I am going to enjoy knowing that I have a nice new one.

Let's go Wildcat!

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 15:16:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 02:12:00 +0000

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Retroactive Want

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 18:12:00 +0000

I came across another thing to want, except this one requires a time machine. It is something that I want to be invented back when I needed it, since it does me no good going and existing now when it's too late.

The object that I speak of is this cupcake holder from Tupperware. I was at a Womens Expo last week and there they were. Totally cute little plastic totes for individual cupcakes. They keep the frosting from getting mashed. Pure genius. And about a decade too late!

The reason that I needed this is because of my son's food allergies they are unable to eat cake or most other desserts that show up at celebrations. So for every birthday party, holiday or social event we would be the family showing up with the ugly little container with two "safe" slightly mashed cupcakes squished inside. Themed birthdays, formal occasions, beautifully set tables, they all were graced with the ziploc tub with the masking tape on top explaining what it was. Now that they are older they usually just skip the dessert, or we offer to make it for family parties.

If only I'd had the cupcake keepers, everything would have looked so much better. If only someone had gone and invented this sooner. If only it had been me.

Stuff to Want

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 11:28:00 +0000

Now that I'm not working I get a lot of curious people asking about "How it's going." I sort of supsect that what they really mean is: "How are you possibly managing to survive with so much less money?" or, even more bluntly put: "Are you miserable yet?"

Well, the fact is that my severance package continues through next month. So thus far I have been having the experience of getting paid but not going to work, a situation that's difficult to complain about, in all honesty.

But there is that nagging sense of the unknown future, and the significant drop in income that is yet to come. So I am trying my best to be frugal in my purchases and lifestyle. You know, confucious says the key to a happy life is to "want what you have." I can do that!

But then the Sunday ads come along, or I run across some products on the internet, and next thing you know, the Wanting What I Don't Have starts to kick in. You may recall last year around this time I started wanting the Do-nu-matic. Just the coolest thing ever and after some serious hinting and a strongarm from the Glenmoor Gals to Larry, there it was under the Christmas tree in all its greasy glory.

But with getting there comes more wanting. Now I want donuts all the time, which is bad for the expanding waistline that I don't want. A neighbor recently learned of my possession, and since she happens to be a pastry chef she generously gifted me with a tub of the actual chocolatey substance that is used on the top of real chocolate eclairs. So as I sit here that tub is in my refrigerator, and I'm trying not to want it, even though I already have it. Oh the conflict!

Here are some of the recent items that have caught my attention this year:

Garage Door Open Indicator

I found this one on the internet, and immediately wanted it because we do have this problem at our house of forgetting to close the garage door. There's nothing worse than getting all snuggled into bed and then having to get up and check if the darn thing is closed. Or worse yet, finding out in the morning that it had been left open all night long, inviting any lazy burgalers or murderers out there free access to come in and stab us as we slept, and then walk out with the don-nu-matic or whatever other of our valuables they may desire. I was all ready to buy but then I noticed that this wasn't exactly an ad for a product but a set of instructions on how to construct and wire one of these yourself. Since I don't know how to rewire a transformer and probably can't now afford an expert to put this together for me, this wonderful invention is off the list.Cruzin Cooler
Maybe you've heard of this, it was in the paper a couple of weeks ago, just in time for football season. It retails for around $450 or so. What I can't get over is the mental image I have of the scenario in which it got invented. Can you just imagine a group of drunken tailgators fooling around by their beer storage saying "Dude, look at me on the cooler! Wouldn't it be fun if I could drive this thing? Yeah, that'd be great!" And then somehow, incredibly, the thing is in existence and people are buying them. Unbelievable.

Bushmaster Shaggy Suit

This was in this week's Meijer ad, and I just couldn't stop staring at it. Look how happy he is, the man in the shaggy suit. It appears that this is intended for hunters, but I can quickly come up with some alternative uses:

1. Camoflage. Just wear it walking around outside! You could be invisible! Imagine the possibilities for getting real close to animals for spying on them. Or even people. No one would know you were there.

2. Fashion statement. Nobody else will be showing up in that at a party! Just think of the compliments for your originality.

3. In lieu of fat pants. I don't know about you but there are days when maybe I've just had a few too many donuts recently. No worries about a little extra on the hips when you can just slip on your Bushmaster Shaggy Suit! I'm sure it hides it all.

Best of all, it's only $69.99 on sale at Meijers. But then again, I must ask myself is this a want or a need?

So, it looks like none of these things are going to be under my Christmas tree this year, but they are good exercises for me to try to control my Wanting. Maybe I should also be examining my wants of being safe, having fun and becoming invisible. I'll let you know how that goes.

Wild

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 00:29:00 +0000

The past several days have been just beautiful. It almost makes up for all of the unusually cold days we had this summer. I know that so many more chilly days are on their way, so I'm trying to soak up every moment of glorious weather while I can. Since we had so much rain this year the lake still has enough water for me to launch the kayak, and I've been so I've been going out for last few evenings when the sun is low in the sky and the water is nice and calm.

Today I paddled along the shore where the land from the park juts out into the lake into kind of a point. I know that the paths through the park don't come near here and so it is where the deer like to spend a lot of their time. You can tell because of the way the brush has been eaten and there are little paths to the lake where they go for water.

I like to watch the deer and it is interesting how they do things in patterns. They tend to follow the same paths, and I know that they travel along the edge of the lake right after the sun sets. That is when we see them crossing through our back yard with their fawns, if we remember to look.

Anyways, there I was paddling along and I was looking into the woods to see if I could spot any of them in there. As much as I like to watch the deer when they walk past my window, I still like to see if I can "catch" them in their normal activities, like a spy. I was staring deeply into the woods as I paddled around the point so I was completely startled when I was suddenly looking face-to-face with a big doe that was standing on one of those paths right at the water's edge.

I stopped paddling and we both just stayed there, frozen still, looking at each other, not more than six feet apart.

As I looked I thought "You lucky free wild thing, you can go anywhere, do anything you want."

The doe looked back at me as if it was thinking: "You lucky human thing with the opposable thumbs, you can hold that paddle and go anywhere you want!"

Well, ok so I don't know what it was thinking, but we definitely shared a moment, and for me, it was magical. I know that some of you think of a deer as something to shoot at, or hit with your car, (Patty) but to me they will always be something of wonder and beauty, every time we meet.

Back to School

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 15:42:00 +0000

The kids went back to school today, so I can finally get near enough to the computer to write in my blog again!

Although there's plenty to say about them starting school, I want to tell you about this past weekend when I went back to my old alma mater, Michigan State, for a football game and reunion of the MSU Tri-Delta sorority chapter.

The boys hadn't been to a Spartan Football game since they were too young to remember, so I thought this would be a good opportunity for them to experience all of the spirit, fun and hoopla of it, as well as inspiration for Tim now that he is in a Marching Band. Since it was so early in the season the weather was gorgeous, and they were playing Montana State (another MSU) which isn't so good of a team so there was lots of scoring by our Spartans.

Of course they loved it all. We had a good view of the student section and how much fun they were having. They looked a lot more organized that the drunken chaos I remember from attending games when I was in school. As I gazed over at them I couldn't help reminiscing about what it was like to be a freshman standing there at my first football game with the brother floor, cheering and dancing around. It was certainly different than where I sat right now with my own family and nearly 25 more years of living behind me. But what struck me is that although I obviously look different, I still feel like the same person, looking out through the same eyes at the big bright spectacle that is Spartan football. It's still me in there.

I can't imagine what the 18 year old Mindy would think if I could see me now, but I can still so clearly remember what it felt like to be a freshman in college. I was nearly overwhelmed with all of the changes happening in my life so quickly, but hopeful about the big uncertain future ahead of me. Maybe that's because at this point in my life I'm going through a lot of the same things, in a different way.

After the game my family went home and I spent the evening with my tri-delta friends who were gathered there for the brunch reunion the next morning. We had dinner and several pitchers of margaritas at the East Lansing Mexican Restaurant called El Azteco. We were there for hours laughing and having fun, and then decided to stop at the hotel to refresh before heading out to hit the bars. I felt really tired and announced that since it was so late maybe I would just go back to the room to sleep. What time was it anyways?

"Nine o-clock you dummy!" They scolded. So I changed into my orthopedic walking shoes and joined back in the fun. I was worried that we would look ridiculously old going in these college bars, but it turned out we were nearly the only ones in there. I remarked that the bar scene must be different nowadays, but then my friends reminded me that the students don't even go out until around 11:00. Oh, yeah.

After making the rounds we landed at a place called Dublins that was featuring live music with a band that night. We found a table out on the patio and could hear the music coming though the wall from inside. They were playing good songs that we remembered from back in "our days." Madonna, Prince, the B-52's: good stuff! Eventually we went in to dance and I had to laugh when I saw the band, the lead singer was in a pink tutu and the band had on polyester track suits and plastic sun glasses. It was a retro 80's theme and they were making fun of...us! Or the old us, anyways. That didn't stop the old new us from taking over the dance floor. It was surreal to be there, in my old college town, with my old college friends, dancing to the same exact music as when we were there as students. And to add even an even more surreal and bizarre touch, we were joined by "Johnny Spirit" who happens to be the brother of one of the women in our group. You know him, he's the guy who paints his body green and goes around the stadium leading cheers in his pajama shorts. It was crazy! It made me tired.

I found out that my comfy shoes are really fun to dance in, and I went back to the room at the not-so-late hour of 10:30. Even though I still feel like the same person on the inside, my body likes to remind me that it is a quarter of a century older now. I need every second of beauty sleep that I can get!

I guess that what I learned on this trip "Back to School" is that although the past is a nice place to visit, I wouldn't want to live there.

Band Boost

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 03:27:00 +0000

It came quickly, being the parent of a high schooler. All because of the Marching Band. They started practice at the end of July, and then went off to five days of camp. It was heart-breaking for me to drop my just out of 8th grade son off at the Big Bad High School to go and mingle with so many of those huge hairy car driving teenagers. What if they were mean to him? Band Camp lasted for five long days. He's never been away from home that long, ever. That's scary enough but when you add the complication of his severe food allergies it is downright frightening, for me. At first Tim wasn't even sure that he wanted to go but there was a lot of pressure from the band director to do this. I hoped that they would take good care of him, and parents I know of older kids who've been through band camp told me it's a great experience.

Well it just about nearly killed me when he scarcely communicated for those 5 long days, just a couple of text messages. Even Jeffrey started sending him texts that said "Call Mom!" At least I knew he was still alive. I couldn't wait to finally see him when they gave a performance at the end of camp. It was clear to me that camp was a good experience for Tim, he seemed to fit in well and was excited to have made so many friends.

It was also clear that they had been working very hard at their show, music from the movie "Mask of Zorro." I told Tim how impressed I was, and couldn't wait to see it at the first football game. Then I asked him what music they would be playing at the second home football game. I didn't realize that they only learned one set of songs for the whole season. I just don't have a clue about all this. I was never in the band, but I do remember going to watch my older sister Becky. There's so much to know!

Yesterday was the first home football game, even though school doesn't start for another week. We dropped Tim off in the band room, and then found a place to sit in the stands, and waited for the show to start! It was SO exciting to hear those drums in the distance and then get louder as they paraded around the track and finally onto the field to do their pre-game songs. I was pleasantly surprised to see them in these huge matching raincoats, and I was thrilled to spot Timmy march by with the other three baritones.

I waited patiently through the first half of the football game. When there were five minutes on the clock the band circled back around to get ready for the big Zorro halftime show. I was so excited to see these kids finally perform what they have been working so hard on all these weeks. I got my camera ready.

Then, to my frustration, the people around me started to stand up and engage in loud conversations, many of them with their backs to the field! I thought it was just so rude for them to totally discount the importance of what the kids in the band were doing out there, and also my desire to actually see and hear it. They almost made me want to learn enough about football so I could choose a critical moment to unfurl my giant golf umbrella in front of them, and then turn around and say "Oh, were you trying to watch that?"

I later learned that there is a section where all of the parents of the band sit together. The Boosters. Much better.

It really started to rain hard in the beginning of the fourth quarter, and I was glad to see the band director give the kids the signal that they were free to go. That was the sign that I needed to show that he really must care about the comfort and welfare of these children.

When we found Tim and got into the car to leave, I mentioned that it was a good thing they were excused early to get out of all that rain. Tim agreed. "Yeah, the instruments were starting to get wet, and some of those flutes cost thousands of dollars, so he told us to go in."

So I'm still a little off-key when it comes to all this Band stuff, but so far for Tim it's hitting all the right notes.

Washington DC Portrait

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 01:55:00 +0000

We spent the last week touring Washington D.C. and attending a family wedding in nearby Virginia. It was a trip of many faces. The bride and groom, so young and hopeful. Larry's parents, still going strong after 8 decades of living. All of the nieces and nephews that we don't see often enough, practically changed into different people each time we meet.

I was looking forward to this trip because a lot of my summer so far has been spent at our house with the boys, which I enjoy well enough but isn't enough reason to fix my hair or put on makeup. I was excited to be going places, to see and be seen.

Our first day in D.C. began with a guided bike tour. We took "The Metro" into the city from our hotel in Virginia. It was fun to sit on the train and observe the other passengers. I could kind of guess what their jobs might be from what they were wearing: business suits, uniforms, outdoor clothes. Our status as tourists was also glaringly obvious as people offered to help us with the ticket machine and finding our destination stop.

After the tour we stayed in the mall area (sweaty and with helmet hair) and toured some of the Smithsonians. I liked the American History Museum. There is so much that I don't know. The boys both studied U.S. History in school this past year and were more familiar with the historic events, but when we went through the pop culture section they wanted to know what made Archie Bunker so important that they put in his chair. I had a hard time explaining it, for although I used to watch that TV show it aired long before they were born.

We all appreciated the monuments and memorials, and enjoyed a tour of the capital, but were unfamiliar with the subjects of the statues that represented our home state of Michigan.

On our second day the weather was less cooperative as we trooped though 90 degree heat from the Library of Congress to the National Archieves, and then faced a pouring rainstorm. We took refuge in the fine art museum. The boys were less interested in this one but I liked looking at the paintings and statues and we needed to dry off. It was also way less crowded here. I walked into one room and caught a security guard standing before a piece, hands on his hips and head tilted way to the side, in a state of total contemplation. I'm not sure what the rules are about taking pictures of people you don't know in public, but I so wanted to capture that moment. I was sure that it would result in one of those meaningful artistic photographs that win awards and get displayed or published. Unfortunately the guard noticed me as I was fumbling for my camera and quickly slipped away. Moment gone but for my memory of it.

After our clothes had mostly dried we ventured back outdoors where the humidity was now as close to 100% as it gets as the rain evaporated off of the hot sidewalks. We tromped all around through this as we tried to find the theater where Lincoln was shot. I swear my feet felt like bloody stumps by now. The boys wanted to go into the Spy Museum but since I wasn't interested and was feeling so worn out I took refuge in the National Portrait Gallery across the street.

The Portrait Gallery was more fascinating than I thought it would be. There were the presidential portraits of course, but there were also portraits and photographs of many other famous and historical figures. Sometimes the signs would state what had already happened in their lives at the time the portrait was done, and then describe what was yet to come for them. Many portraits were of people who were very famous or influential in their time, and yet I had never heard of them. Just like Archie Bunker, their importance was most relevant in the time that they lived, and difficult to comprehend so many years later.

There was also a special exhibit going on of the work of a contemporary photographer, who captured ordinary people in a way that made you feel like you understood something about who they are. I'd like to think my security guard photo would have fit nicely here if I had actually gotten to take it.

I slumped onto a bench to contemplate all of this, and take the weight off of my throbbing feet. Then I heard a familiar sound, the chizz-click of a camera. I looked to my right just as the man sitting there pulled his camera back from underneath his arm where he had it pointed at ME! I tried to catch his eye to give him a "what the heck?" look but he turned away and pretended to be engrossed in the portrait across from his bench.

What a sight I must have been, with my smeared makeup, frizzed-out hair, rain-soaked clothes, and posture of total exhaustion. And now there's a picture of it out there somewhere.

So if you ever come across a display of award-winning photographs and there is something familiar about the one titled "Bedraggled Woman," that's because it's of me.

Lets go

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 01:08:00 +0000

I just got back from a trip to the Kalahari waterpark resort with an unusual group consisting of me and my two boys (Tim and Jeff) my niece and nephew (Ramona and Cale) my mother, my aunt Judy, my cousin Marisa and her nieces Isabel and Jillian.

I held the unique distinction of being the only adult who was the parent of some of the children, who had been to this place before, and was willing to go in the water. This meant I was responsible for accompanying the kids on the slides and doing a lot of the "figuring out" of what we should be doing when, and trying to keep track of everyone.

The first day went well with the boys running around going on as many of the slides and rides as they could, but the girls stayed with the tamer activities as they became interested in trying out some of the big slides. For our second day I decided it would be best if the kids and I got to the waterpark right as it opened at 9:00 when the lines were shorter so we could go on the group rides all together.

After a quick in-room breakfast I threw on my bathing suit and went in the hallway at 9:00.

Cale and Jeff went rushing past me but I waved them back, and told them to put on some shoes and wait for the other kids.

Tim came out munching on a bagel. I told him to hurry up and finish that and get back out here because we were leaving for the waterpark right away.

Isabel and Jillian come out of their room then and I ask Isabel to go back in and get Ramona.

Ramona comes out and announces that she is going to go to the gift shop with Grandma so that she can buy a souvenir for her best friend Julia. I told her that we are on our way to the waterpark, shopping would be later. Could she go back in and get Isabel?

Ramona goes in and comes out to tell me that Isabel is on the phone with her mother.

My mother comes out and says she is ready to go shopping with Ramona. I tell her that we are going to the waterpark now, shopping later, and could she please go and get Isabel to come out here.

Tim and Jeff emerge from their room and I ask them where Cale is. In the bathroom, they think.

Isabel comes out and hands the phone to Jillian, mom wants to talk to her too. I ask Isabel to go and get Ramona, who went back in the room.

Tim and Jeff are walking down the hall without waiting for the rest of us.

Jillian finishes her phone call and I tell her to go and chase Tim and Jeff and tell them to wait.

Ramona and Isabel come out of the room, finally ready, and I tell them to wait right there while I go and find out where Cale is.

I find Cale lounging in the room and we come out and all of the kids are walking far down the long hallway, and we hustle to catch up with them.

Finally we are all together in the hall, halfway to the waterpark, and Jeffrey remembers that he left his admission bracelet back in the room...

Silly kids. We repeated a version of this scenario every time we transitioned from doing one thing to another. That's just the way it is. Still a very fun time for all.

Day in Detroit 09

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 01:47:00 +0000

For the past few years my sister Becky has taken my boys for a "Day in Detroit." In the past it was to help out with child care during the summer but this year she still did it and I came along too.

We started out in Hamtramck where she lives, and went inside of the Community Services Building so that we could view a mural on the wall of the recreation room that depicts the History of Hamtramck. It is interesting to look at but the real reason we did this was to see the image of Colonel Hamtramck. Since there are no known pictures of the real Colonel the artist (who Becky knows) modeled it after the person who dressed as Colonel Hamtramck in the Hamtramck Days Parade. That person happens to be Becky's husband, Hal. It's a reasonable likeness:

Next we went to the New Center area to visit our cousin Derek who has a deli/store inside of the DPS building. We got to see the back rooms in the basement, and the underground parking, and Uncle Buddy handed the boys these enourmous peaches:

Then Derek captured a picture of Jeffrey slipping one into his pocket on the security camera. Ha Ha.

Next we had lunch at Tim's favorite restaurant, Hockeytown Cafe, and then walked across the street to look in at Tiger Stadium and Ford Field. It is fascinating to look at these places when they are not filled with people.

The boys think it is great fun to ride the people mover so we took that over to the Cobo area, and went to see the office building where Becky works.

There are so many things that fascinate them such as elevators and built-in mail drops. Even the water cooler.

The views from the 9th floor offices were really something but then Becky had the idea that we should go see it from the roof. We had to walk through the super-creepy boiler room to get there but the view was good.

After that I requested to go somewhere that I have never been which is the Motown Records Museum. Becky knew the way and we drove down Grand Boulevard. This happened to be during the time of the Michael Jackson memorial service, and all of the news crews were parked outside of it to get footage of the "local reaction." I thought it would be great fun to be on TV paying our tribute to the King of Pop. But since the news trucks were taking up all of the parking spaces Becky wisely just drove on by.

It was as it always is, a great experience for the boys to explore the big city we live near, and I liked it too. Fun and interesting aren't perhaps the first words to come to mind at the mention of the City of Detroit, but when approached with a spirit of curiosity and adventure, it can be a truly amazing place to explore for a day.

Hurricane Me

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 16:28:00 +0000

I'm hoping this is a light year for hurricanes. Maybe they won't even get to the letter M. And look who's in front of that:

2009 Hurricane Names

Ana
Bill
Claudette
Danny
Erika
Fred
Grace
Henri
Ida
Joaquin
Kate
Larry
Mindy
Nicholas
Odette
Peter
Rose
Sam
Teresa
Victor
Wanda

Hang Time

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 02:11:00 +0000

We were riding our bikes to the library, trying to get there by 11:00 when teen volunteer orientation started. (Tim said that you can't call it volunteering if you are forced to go. There is another word for that...Community Service!)

We took the path that connects our subdivision to the library. Well, it almost does. The path runs in between some houses and then leads into a field of grass that you have to go across to get to the library sidewalk. This is sort of my doing. Back when the sub was transitioning from the developer to the homeowner's association, I was on the board of directors. I wanted the developer to finish all the items on the master plan, which included this path. I called the Parks and Recreation director to find out if they would be connecting our path to the library. He said they probably would but it depended on how they used that land. But they never did.

I was following Timmy onto the grassy part when I heard Jeffrey, who was riding close behind me, call out: "Watch out for the giant hole!"

At this point I entered this out-of-body slow motion state of uber-awareness. Kind of like back at work when I would study slow motion films of crash tests, analyzing the movements that took place in each millisecond frame. Have you ever experienced this?

Here are the thoughts that ran through my mind:

My bike is sinking
Oh no I hit the hole
That is a huge hole
I am airborne
What is going to happen?
I hear Jeffrey screaming "MOMMY!"
He sounds so scared
Poor thing has to watch his mommy fly through the air like this
He has such a cute little voice
Nice of him to care, I love that little guy
The handlebars just smacked into my leg
I am now separate from the bike
I should have tightened the straps on my helmet
I hope my head doesn't hit
I'm flying
Now I'm going towards the ground
I wonder what will happen when I hit the ground
I'm hitting the ground
I feel my skin ripping off my legs
I don't think my head hit
I feel grass on my face
The bike is on my feet
So this is what happens

I laid there stunned until I heard Jeffrey asking if I was ok. I looked up to see my children looking worriedly down at me. I sat up and after a couple seconds told them to go on to the library and sign up for their activities. They did!

I went home and cleaned up my wounds. Ugly red scrapes and huge purple/black bruises now decorate my legs. Other than a general banged-up feeling, I am ok.

We're going to go over and do something about that hole.

Where's Mork?

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 14:13:00 +0000

When I was born my parents had that unfortunate idea to name me Melinda and call me Mindy. Since the nickname isn't as obvious as, say, Joe-for-Joseph, as a child I was stuck with the yearly explanation to my teachers about what to call me, and some general confusion whenever a sub came in and took attendance. And then of course there was my own decision early in my career to go by the more professional sounding (I hoped) "Melinda" on the job. I'm not sure how well that worked, and it again added name confusion as colleagues became friends and there were people mixing all around saying different names.

And then there was that TV show. Here I was with this somewhat uncommon name, and then out comes this goofy show with Mindy right there in the title. Of course it was wildly popular at the time, and at first I thought I might glean some coolness from the thing, such as people saying na-no na-no or shazbut to me. (I was in Junior High at that time and coolness was a priority.) But that's not how it went. For decades to come, upon learning of my name people would ask "Where's Mork?" with that "aren't I clever betcha you never heard that one before" smirk on their faces. Even this would all be fine but I never did come up with an appropriate retort. I have been left blinking stupidly after many an introduction because I just didn't have a good answer to that question.

Until now:

This weekend my sister Becky presented me with my very own Mork from Ork doll. Is it cute or what? As I have mentioned before, Becky likes to go to vintage doll shows and you never know what she will come up with. One time I went with her and was able to purchase Brady Bunch paper dolls and and a Little Kiddle scented locket as her birthday gifts. Usually these items are purely nostalgic retro fun. This time, however, it is more than that. Now when someone asks me "Where's Mork" I can pull him out of my purse.
Right here! ar, ar, ar!

Concessionaire

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 01:49:00 +0000

Who would have guessed that at my age I would finally gain some new skills which most people get when they are teenagers.

The Band Boosters for the high school take turns running the concession stand at the local baseball park and since Tim will be in HS next year we were invited to sign up. The profits for the season are divided up according to how many hours you worked, and the money goes into an account for the student's future band expenses such as trips and band camp.

Even since he was very little Timmy has wanted to work at a store so he was eager for this opportunity. I liked the idea of us running our own little business together (for the night.) Timmy did really well taking orders, making change and organizing the inventory. I grilled the hot dogs, scrubbed the counters, and made sure the popcorn tasted just right by sampling it often.

It was fun to spend time doing this with my son and to see all the little kids coming to us to make their purchases. Also Jeffrey was playing in a game at an adjacent field and I could run out and watch when he was up to bat or pitching.

We're scheduled to do this again on July 10 and August 14 so if you are around Seymour Lake Park stop by and get a snack!

Camp Safety/Hayride of Horror

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Fri, 29 May 2009 16:37:00 +0000

This week was Jeffrey's 5th grade camp trip. Having learned from my past experiences, I signed up to attend as a "visitor" on the second day rather than as a chaperon. This way I was able to observe all the fun without having to be responsible for other people's children or sleep on a moldy plastic mattress. I drove there with my neighbor friend Monica who also has a 5th grader, making it even more enjoyable. I am learning!

Fresh and rested, we drove a little over an hour, chatting so much that we almost missed the entrance to the Howell Nature Center and Camp. We made our way over the bumpy and gutted hills of the campground road to the building where our children were in the middle of a one-hour safety orientation. We greeted the overwhelmed and beleaguered looking chaperons, and I made sure to thank them for watching out for our children.

After the safety orientation was over we all hiked through the woods to the site of our first activities, which were the rock-climbing tower and "high ropes." The children were then subjected to yet another series of safety instructions. By now I was sure that they had received far more information than they could possibly retain, but I was pleased to observe the emphasis on safe practices given the dangerous nature of what they would be doing. They learned a detailed set of commands that had to be repeated whenever they were "on belay" when wearing a safety harness.

I once read about the purpose of these types of camp activities. It is to safely simulate the feeling of perilous adventure and create a bonding experience for the participants. The kids just think its fun. I was extremely proud as I watched my little Jeffrey scamper easily up to the top of the 60 foot climbing tower, a feat that only a few of them accomplished.

After lunch they were scheduled for the high ropes which is something I've never seen before and is quite amazing. The children were subjected to yet another safety orientation where they practiced the steps of transferring their safety hooks before they climbed high up into the trees to navigate across a course of ropes, wires and logs. I was again happy to observe my Jeffrey complete this with ease, and felt he was safe due to the ample staff and safety precautions they were taking.

After that they did canoeing and had dinner, and then it was time for the hayride. A tall man in a large straw cowboy hat came and told our group that one of the carts had a flat tire and they were going to see how many people they could fit onto one wagon. We squeezed our way onto the wooden benches along the sides of the wagons with the children on a thin layer of hay at our feet. The man stepped up onto the back of the cart and delivered what would be the fourth safety talk of the day:

"This wagon does not have any shocks, so the ride will be rough. Anyone with a heart condition or who is pregnant should not ride." Greg's dad jokingly started to get up, claiming pregnancy, and we all laughed. But a girl named Katie turned to me and said:

"That's how our teacher got her back injury last year!" I smiled dismissively at Katie as the hat man went on:

"Keep yer hands in the wagon cuz if ya don't they could get cut off. We'll be getting real close to some trees so the people on the opposite sides should tell people when to duck. And try to hold on." He looked down at the two kids sitting nearest the opening where he stood. "These two might fall out." I saw that there was no gate to go across that opening, and one of the dads stretched his foot out to partially cover it.

We all hollered as the man revved up the pickup truck that jolted the packed wagon into motion. I contemplated the total lack of restraints and the gaping space in the back of the wagon as I recalled the many crash videos that I studied in slow motion during my career as a seatbelt engineer. We used to fret over the tiniest details to make sure that the vehicle's occupants would remain uninjured in all possible situations. And here I was with all of these precious children as the man turned onto that bumpy camp road and revved the engine to what felt like 40mph.

The happy hollering turned to fearful screaming as the wagon flopped along behind the truck, and those tree branches started whipping us in the faces and heads. There was little to no reaction time as branch after branch sliced through the air and whapped the passengers hard and deposited leaves, blossoms, and possibly disfiguring scars all around. Monica, true friend that she is, took to screaming "DUCK" and smacking me in the back as she saw them coming. I bent into the "crash position" they recommend for descending airplanes: forehead to knees with palms to the back of my head.

We got a reprieve from the branch assault when the truck swerved into an open field and began driving around in circles. Centrifugal force slammed us all against one side and I saw Jeff's friend Nick clutching the side of the wagon trying hard not to throw up.

After another screaming tour of terror over the roads we finally lurched to a stop back where we started. As far as I know we didn't lose anyone or sustain any serious injuries, but my goodness after a full day of careful safety instructions I can't believe they subjected us to this. It was one of the most terrifying things I have ever done.

When Monica and I got off the wagon and looked at each other's crazy hair spiked with hay, leaves and branches we burst into uncontrollable laughter. It was a bonding experience.

Garden Intrusion

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Wed, 20 May 2009 16:45:00 +0000

I love growing a garden and now that I'm home I'll have a lot more time to care for it. So maybe this year is the year that it doesn't dry up or become a giant salad bar for all of the creatures that are always traipsing through.

While I was in Mackinaw Larry did some work to get the garden ready for planting. (Per my request.) He dug out some old chicken wire and railroad ties and replaced them with a double layer of new railroad ties to make it more of a "raised" garden, and put in new fencing that is supposed to be specially designed to keep out small animals. He also turned over the dirt which looks really good this year since we added shredded leaves in the fall on the advice of my work friend Alan.

On Sunday when I got back it was ready for planting, so Jeff and I went to the Garden Center and bought seeds and plants. We got the plants a little larger than usual with the thinking that would give them more of a boost to produce. Instant Garden! It looks great!

Of course I remain worried about the deer which in the past have decimated my gardening effort immediately after its been planted. Larry helped me to stretch a special netting that Aunt Chris gave me across the top of the fencing. This created a complete Box of Protection around the garden. I hoped it would be effective but could be a pain when we need to get in there to pull weeds or pick vegetables.

I hung up a wind chime on a hook and planted marigold seeds around the perimeter, which are said to be deterrents. Then I got out this spray jug of "Deer Away" and squired the putrid stinky stuff over all of it. Disgusting, but if it works, worth it.

Finally, after a long day of laboring, I went in the house. As I looked out the window to watch the sun go down, the deer came through our yard, right on schedule. I peeked out and watched them to see what would happen. On of them went up on his hind legs to nibble on a tree branch nearby, but then they wandered away without inspecting it. Phew!

After it got too dark to see anything I sat down and watched some shows on TV. A teaser for the 11:00 news came on. FROST WARNING FOR TONIGHT! I was so busy outside all day I hadn't checked for this. And now it was dark out and not realistic for me to get out there and try to cover all the new plants.

I went to sleep and dreamed of shriveled seedlings. Later in the morning, before I'd gotten the nerve to go outside and look at the garden, there was knocking on my front door. At first I didn't recognize the woman who watches the children next door. They have a baby and a 3 year old, and she brings two other preschoolers over there with her.

"I am SO SORRY!" she said, looking stricken. In her hands were the cute vegetable-face garden markers that I had gotten on clearance last year and had put in right after we planted everything. "I was tending the baby and I looked over and saw the kids having a parade across the yard holding up these sticks I had never seen before. Then I realized they are your planting markers! Now you won't know where everything is!"

It made me laugh that all of the efforts to keep the animals away had not deterred the children from reaching their little hands through and pulling those things out. I assured her that we didn't need those markers to know what we planted, and then I explained to the guilty looking children that they had to get permission to touch anything in there from now on. They were very cute as they listened to my explanation of what we planted, and then they invited me to see their tree fort.

Other than a slight frost damage to the tomato leaves, everything is still looking good, for now.

Bad Chaperone

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 18 May 2009 12:49:00 +0000

At the beginning of the school year Tim's band teacher announced that they would be taking a trip to Mackinac Island in the spring. He encouraged the parents to have their children attend, and said that there would be some fundraisers to help with the expenses. "It's a great experience." he told us.

Because I don't like to make my kids sell stuff I signed up for the online payment plan and forked over the $250 fee in installments. At the parent-teacher conferences in March I met with the Band teacher and asked him a lot of questions about the trip, especially regarding how to manage Tim's food allergies. Timmy has never been that far from home before without us, and I know from reading the Food Allergy Network materials that many of the deaths from food allergy reactions have occurred on this type of trip, when the kids are older and kind of on their own. The band teacher suggested that I consider chaperoning the trip since they needed more parents to go along anyways.

At that time I suspected that I might not be working any more in May, so I wouldn't have to worry about taking the time off, but doubling the cost of the trip would sting even more. I didn't do much about it until a few weeks ago when he emailed me directly requesting that I attend because they needed more parents to go. I agreed and went online to sign up. I gulped when I saw that the cost for chaperons was even more, $330, apparently due to the double instead of quad room arrangement. That's almost $600 for the two of us to do this. I could take my own family on a very nice trip for that amount, but oh well.

About a week before the trip there was a meeting for the parents. It turned out that both the band and the choir were doing this. I saw my friend Gail at the meeting. She said she would not be going but asked that I keep an eye on her son since he now has a girlfriend in the choir who would also be on the trip. I met that girl's mom and assured her that I would try to see that things were "on the up and up" with them. The band teacher explained to the nervous parents that the children would be well supervised during the entire trip, and that the chaperons would be evenly distributed throughout the bus. The man from the travel company was there and said that they have been doing trips for years and have never lost a kid yet.

One parent raised their hand and asked how many would be going on the trip, and the teacher said about 40 kids total, way down from years past, "probably due to the economy." That led me to ponder the idea that this trip was actually optional, and that my family was the one with the job loss and complicated food issues and yet was participating.

After the meeting I went up to the band teacher because I wanted to talk about allergies, and another mom was also there because she was looking to find a chaperone who could help her daughter who is diabetic. Since I was the one standing there I said I would try to help with that.

A couple of days before the trip I called the travel agency to find out about the food that would be served. Since I was going to be there with the epi-pen at the ready, I wasn't so much worried about a reaction but needed to find out if there would be enough "safe" food available for Tim to have enough to eat. After I politely explained why I was calling, the woman on the phone sounded all put out about it. "This is the first I've heard about this!" she complained. I told her that the Band Director was aware of the issue and asked if there was a place I was supposed to indicate any special needs when I registered. She admitted there was not but did list off the food that was included in the meals that would be served. When it looked like Timmy might be limited to eating dinner rolls and plain lettuce, I asked if there was a possibility of having anything specially prepared. She said that was not an option and suggested that I bring along a cooler with our own food in it. OK, then.

When travel day came they loaded up the bus with luggage, band instruments, and dozens of over-excited 8th graders. After I took my seat in the front of the bus with the other chaperons, the band teacher and tour guide took the microphone and told the kids to behave themselves, and some other typical rules. The band teacher looked at me, and took the microphone. "And no eating peanuts on the bus!" Then they made to leave and I asked where they were going. "Oh, we always travel in a separate vehicle, ever since that one time" they explained and then left us with our charges.

The bus ride really wasn't so bad, at least in the front of the bus. I looked back and thought I could see the top of Timmy's head. And I identified the diabetic girl. She had her eyes closed and mouth open. She was either asleep or in diabetic shock, I hoped it was sleep. They had given us an information DVD about Historic Fort Michilimacinac to play on the bus. When we did that the kids complained and turned up their ipods. I found it very interesting.

When we got to our destination the band teacher re-appeared and told the kids to stay on the bus while we he met with the chaperons. We were handed a list of children we would be "responsible for" and given itineraries. My list had son, his friend Clark, the diabetic and 6 other girls I did not know. When they disembarked from the bus they were told to go and meet up with their chaperons. Several girls drifted my way and I tried to find out their names and match them up with those on my list. One came up to me and stated: "We don't have to stay with you."

I said that they didn't have to but were welcome if they wanted to. Another girl smiled at that and I decided that I liked her better. Then they went away, never to be seen by me again. To this day I am sure that I could not even select them from a police line-up. I tried to memorize their faces in the 30 seconds I had to look at them, but honestly they all sort of looked the same. I happen to know at this age, they work at that. And then they all bought new sweatshirts, and later changed their clothes. I would often scan the crowd, looking at faces and wondering what girls were "mine." Especially when we were on the ferry, I hoped really hard that none of them were left behind, unnoticed. Imagine the headlines.

Our accommodations for the night were at the Mission Point Resort on the island. The chaperons were to share rooms with 2 double beds, but I noticed that the teachers would be in a complimentary "hot tub suite." I was a little nervous about sharing a room with someone I had never met, but my roommate Bonnie turned out to be very nice, and we did fine. Much better than the two stunned looking 6 foot tall fathers who went to check into their room and found one double bed. After much discussion and wrangling with the hotel and the travel guy they were able to secure 2 separate rooms. Then they were charged extra for it.

The food they served us at the resort wasn't that good and I realized that there were other children who might have had diet issues too when I saw them picking out very little from the one-entree choice line-up. Tim seemed to get in line way ahead of me despite my best efforts to catch up with him. He had very little to eat and would not accept the carton of soy milk that I had lugged all the way up there for him. This made me frustrated and him hungry. By the middle of the second day he came up to me pleading for money to buy a box of popcorn which got him a less-than-loving parental look and yet another wad of money from my purse.

At night we were given a list of rooms to check on that was different than the list of kids I was "in charge of." The rule was that they were to be in their rooms for the night at 10:30, and the chaperons job was to count them. There were security guards with roaming the halls with clipboards at this time. I checked on my assigned rooms, and all looked fine, and then went to the boy's hallway to say goodnight to my son. Clark answered the door and Timmy peeked out and waved at me and then disappeared. Gail's son (who has the girlfriend) was also in that room so I jokingly asked if it was only the four boys in there. As they grumbled an affirmative answer the guard appeared over my shoulder and told me that I should check under the beds. What? "They do that all the time" he told me. I just shouted "go to sleep!" and left.

Mackinac Island is a beautiful place but I suspect that traveling with a middle school tour group in the off season isn't the best way to enjoy it. I looked wistfully upon charming porch chairs and beachfront walkways and thinking how nice they would be to enjoy...IF I were there in different circumstances. I also believe that the students didn't appreciate it. We were scheduled for a horse-drawn tour of the island. After I saw Timmy departing on a carriage full of boys (could he be avoiding me?) I slipped into the back row of a carriage with the girls from the choir. I don't think that they realized there was an adult present as they proceeded to torment the poor woman who was charged with steering the horses and narrating points of interest to her passengers through a microphone. "I'm cold!" those dressed inappropriately for the 50 degree rainy weather interrupted her to complain. "My room had bugs in it! Breakfast was terrible! I can't live without a car! This place smells bad! Everything is old and boring!" I cringed and felt bad for their parents and embarrassed on behalf of our group, their school, our town and my gender. I noticed that it was only me and the choir teacher who chose to tour the historic fort while everyone else rushed to stand around in the gift shop and buy candy. They turned up their noses at the "too fancy" food in the Grand Hotel Buffet and Clark put in his ipod headphones during the Three Men and a Tenor concert.

It made think what the point of all this was. There was a part where they went to a soundstage to play some songs on their instruments and get instructions from a man from CMU, but it came to mind that he could have much more easily made the trip to their school and accomplished the same thing and reached more of the students. I do see the benefit for the economy of the island and the tourism industry in the off season to host all of these students in bulk, and I can see why the teachers would enjoy getting away from the classroom and enjoying their complimentary deluxe accommodations. However, knowing what I do now, I don't think I would do this again, or send my child alone. Can't trust those chaperons.

Gloria

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Mon, 11 May 2009 13:43:00 +0000

The phone rang and it was my sister Mary Beth.

"Mom called me to tell me that she went to the funeral of our old neighbor Mr. Spiteri yesterday."

"Yeah, I heard about that, very sad." I wondered why she would call to tell me about this.

"Well, get this. She ran into some old neighbors there and struck up a conversation with a Mrs. Suffeck. Do you remember a Mrs. Stuffeck?"

I rolled the name around in my brain for a moment. "The name sounds vaguely familiar."

"Well," she went on, "apparently Mom was going on about her daughters like she does, and she got to talking about her youngest who is a Very Successful Buyer at Ford. (ha, ha)"

I wondered just what adjective my mother might have applied to my current career situation, but Mary Beth continued her story: "And then Mrs. Stuffeck says that her daughter is married to a Very Successful Buyer at Ford." I thought I could see where this was going. "Doesn't she realize that there are hundreds of buyers who work for Ford?"

I reminded Mary Beth that it is one of those Rules of the Universe that when our mother strikes up a conversation she will somehow magically hone in on the common link with lightning speed, and it always beats the odds of likelihood. Oh, your brother went to Michigan State? Well then he must know... Even though hundreds of thousands of people have attended certain Universities, or lived in certain towns or states, or worked for a giant corporation, it always turns out that you actually do know of or have a connection to the person. It just works that way. In fact, the entirety of my (unsuccessful) career at GM began with my mother standing in line to check out books at her local library, and finding out that the woman behind her worked in the department of GM where they hired summer students, and of course I was finishing up my sophomore year in Engineering and would sure like a job like that...and the rest is history.

There are no six degrees of separation when you have the single degree of Dorothy on your side.

So I was curious as to why Mary Beth was calling me with this story as she went on to say that when she asked our mother for the name of Mrs. Stuffeck's son-in-law, she found out that she had written it down on a scrap of paper and put it in her purse. And then couldn't find it. It is another (unfortunate) Rule of the Universe that my mother tends to quickly forget crucial details from these conversations, and I won't even go into the Black Hole Theory that I have about her purse.

But Mary Beth goes on: "So when I get to work today, my good friend and co-worker from the next cubicle comes over to tell me how his mother-in-law met up with my mother and that his wife Gloria grew up on our street!" But of course.

And now to the point of the phone call. Mary Beth was desperate to figure out if we actually knew Gloria growing up. She is probably a bit younger. I riffled through the rolodex of my brain trying to place a girl of that age into a house down the block near where the Spiteris lived. I thought I had it. "I know! She was the daughter of the President of the Barry Manilow fan club who lived in the smelly house who we never wanted to babysit for!"

Mary Beth was horrified. "It just can't be her. I've never met Gloria but she has a reputation of being very pretty and neatly dressed. That doesn't fit. Think some more."

I added the additional data of 'pretty' to the search engine of my memories, and came up with a vague and filmy image of a fancily dressed little girl being pushed around in a stroller to our side of the block. And then I remembered that I have this little photo album of pictures that I took when I found an old brownie camera in my Grandparents attic. The film for that thing was hard to get, so there are very few pictures, but they got looked at a lot. We're talking mid 1970's here.

I told Mary Beth that I would get back to her, and went to the closet where I quickly found the album and this very faded old photograph:

That is our older sister Becky in the back, and neighbor girl Debbie Dillworth pushing a tricycle with, could it be, little Gloria?

I scanned the photo and emailed it to Mary Beth at work, where she forwarded it to her coworker who shot it home to his wife who immediately confirmed that, yes, that was her on the tricycle.

It would be amazing except that this kind of thing isn't all that uncommon in our family and probably isn't for you either. I think that these things happen for a reason. Maybe their purpose is to serve as a reminder to us that we are always surrounded by people who are connected to us in ways we could never imagine and will probably never know. Unless, of course, you have a Dorothy.

New PMP

noreply@blogger.com (Mindy) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 12:28:00 +0000

Well all this sluffing around the house just has to stop. I need Goals and Objectives, like at work when we had "PMPs." PMP stood for something like Performance Management Process but we would refer to it as in: "I got my PMP today." The managers were supposed to write these up for their employees but I usually used to put together my own and it would get filed unless there was a need to write up a new one to match whatever the boss might have thought an upper level director wanted it to say. There was a trend for a while to state regular objectives and then "stretch targets" for the things you thought you might be able to get done but wouldn't completely committ to. So here is my 2009 new PMP:

Mindy's new 2009 Goals and Objectives:

Keep house tidy and clean. Such as pick up, make beds, sweep the floor, empty the dishwasher. Enabler: That new lightweight vacuum with the onboard attachments. Stretch Target: Completely organize every closet, drawer, cupboard and shelf in the house.
Adopt healthier habits. All that sitting and eating donuts has added up, and it ain't pretty. I plan to watch what I eat and exercise every day. Enabler: Put new battery in digital scale. Stretch Target: Lose 30 lbs and participate in a bike tour with significant (40+) miles by fall.
Spend time with kids. Attend all baseball games, track meets, field trips, and school events in the upcoming months. Make arrangements for our summer travel and camping. Do things and go places together that are fun. Stretch Target: Delay the onset of the boys thinking it is uncool to hang out with their mom.
Learn to cook. Yeah, I know I tried this before. I'm going to try again. I'll start with packing those lunches and work up to making actual meals and doing the shopping. Enabler: Maybe I'll get out Jeffrey's DS cooking game. Stretch Target: Use the oven without burning stuff up.
Contribute. Since there will be less cash to hand out, I will serve my community in other ways, such as working in the Giving Garden, coordinating a neighborhood event, assisting with the schools, sports teams, and in the township. Stretch Target: Maybe make that bike tour a fund-raising one.
Connect. Maintain and strengthen the bonds I have with my friends and extended family by hosting some get-togethers out here at the lake while the weather is pleasant. Enabler: Some cooperation from Mother Nature would be nice. Stretch Target: With that clean house and cooking skill I should be able to entertain someone here for lunch, or even dinner at least once a week. Yes, I mean YOU. Looking forward to it.
Create. Keep going with this blog and my scrapbooking hobby. Enablers: Well my scrapping table will be organized according to #1, and I can do the ScraP SisTaZ challenges and attend workshops at Lynns. Stretch Target: Write novel. I do have an idea ready. I'm going to do it.
Get a job. Because the severance money and savings won't hold out forever. Enabler: Take advantage of the services of Right Management Consultants that are included with the severance package. Stretch Target: Something local, high-paying, that I find challenging and engaging, where I will be surrounded by amazing people and a pleasant environment, with flexible hours and generous benefits. (Ok, that one might be excessively stretchy even without being in the midst of a recession, but I gotta know what I'm shooting for!)

Of course there are many other things that are not listed here, but these are the new ones. Wish me luck!