Thursday, April 26, 2007
Back in the Day!
The years I am talking about here are 1959 until 1971. This was my growing up time from the age of 6 to 18. I have very vivid memories of buying special treats and remembering the cost. My parents did not have a lot of money and they were frugal on top of it. As such, when I had a nickel or dime to spend as I pleased, it was a big deal. Every now and then over dinner, my husband and I discuss "back in the day." And since we grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools from first grade through high school (yikes, and college, too) we remember some of the same things. I just realized how strange that last sentence is--that my husband and I had identical childhoods.
We had a little neighborhood grocery store called Louie's. Every kid who went to Ray Bjork Elementary school had great fondess for this place. It is still there in Helena. Packs of sugary gum whether Wrigley's Spearment, Doublemint, Juicy Fruit, or Beeman's and rolls of Life Savers were 5 cents. My favorite gumballs were grape and Sputnik (named after the Russian satelite and it was light blue and bumpy and minty) for either a penny or two for a penny. We could get a can of pop from the walk-in cooler behind the cash register for 10 cents. My favorite was grape or black cherry Shasta. And yes, in Montana, we called it "pop" and never soda. I remember I wasn't a huge fan of Coke until they came out with the diet variety called TAB when I was in high school. Candy bars like Milky Ways or Three Muskateers were also 5 cents. I was never allowed to get the bigger one for 10 cents. Unlike today, where kids are fighting weight issues because they eat this junk everyday, buying a can of pop or a candy bar was an occasional treat back then.
We had one drive-in on the east side of Helena called Scotty's. Now and then we would stop there after returning from a fishing trip or before going to the drive-in movie. Hamburgers were 15 cents, fries were 10 cents as was a small pop. I don't remember how much milk shakes were which is odd because I loved chocolate milk shakes. I do remember chocolate ice cream cones at the little store by the campground in Idaho where we stayed every year, were a nickel for one scoop and a dime for two. Later when I was in high school, the hang out was the A&W and by then hamburgers cost a quarter. My Dad loved a good root beer and I have memories of driving into A&W's for frosty cold real glass mugs of foamy root beer. They'd bring it on a tray and hook it on your car window. A regular was 5 cents and a large, which is what my Dad would get, was 10 cents. There were no McDonald's in Montana until I was in college.
Our student council at the Junior High would sell raised donuts--big and puffy ultra-fresh glazed and chocolate--for a nickel once a week. Krispy-creme does not even come close. My friend and I would walk home from school and stop at Safeway to order cherry phosphates for a dime. Sometimes we would go into the 4 B's cafeteria and get fries for 10 cents or a single hard roll for a nickel depending on how much change we had. Dave remembers because he was a picky eater, he wouldn't eat the school lunches at the Junior High. So he would walk down the street to a nearby hamburger joint and for a nickel, they would grill him a hamburger bun with butter. He couldn't afford the meat. If his Mom knew this, she would die all over again, I swear.
We had a drugstores called Super-Save and they had one in the new mall built not far from Ray Bjork school. I can still picture the sign--88 cents--for 45's. These were records with a single song on each side and a big hole in the middle. You had to put this special column thingy on your record player to play 45's. Albums were called 33's and a good album cost anywhere from $2 to $4. Now I guess it is cool to call records "vinyls." Barbie Dolls which my friends and I played with when we were 10 and 11 and not 4 and 5 like little girls today, were expensive and the clothes were intricate. We only had two or three at most---Barbie, Ken, Midge and maybe Barbie's little sister Skipper. My Mom would not let me have Ken doll so I had Barbie, Midge and Skipper. I am not sure what that was all about but I am certain it had do with prudishness. Anyway, the dolls cost $3.50.
I do not have a memory of how much things in a grocery store cost. Our freezer was full of wild meat and fish including elk, deer, antelope, moose once, ducks and more ducks, sage hens, an occasional pheasant or goose, trout and salmon caught in Idaho. In the summers, when we would run low on game, my Mom would buy beef. I have a vague rememberance of going to a bakery with my Mom to get day old bread, 10 loaves for a dollar, that she would freeze. Likewise, I do not recall clothing prices because my Mom made most of my dresses. One time, though, she bought me an Easter dress because I loved it so much. I can still remember it was a green print with lace trim and it cost $4 which was kind of expensive. My Mom also made my wedding dress in 1973 and for the pattern and material, it cost a whopping $25.
My parents bought the small house where I grew up in 1960 for $11,000, I believe. They sold it 11 years later for not much more than that. Dave's family lived in what was considered kind of a fancy house built in 1952 for $16,000. When his Dad died seven years ago, the family sold it for more than $100,000 and maybe as much as $125,000.
Dave's childhood house on Broadway in Helena--sorry it is blurry.
I suppose it is all relative. But I do believe there is a gluttony in America with children. Treats are no longer treats but everyday expectations. Little girls have boxes full of Barbies and teenagers drink multiple cans of pop everyday. Being given a nickel or a dime or a quarter by an adult was gratefully appreciated and valuable. In fact, Dave remembers that when he was a little kid, he spent gobs of time at the local gun club because his Dad was a champion trap shooter. When he was bored, he would look under the cushions in the chairs and couches for prized coins. As a kid, you could get a lot of "junk" for a few coins and it was always special. I wonder if anything is truly "special" anymore.
The years I am talking about here are 1959 until 1971. This was my growing up time from the age of 6 to 18. I have very vivid memories of buying special treats and remembering the cost. My parents did not have a lot of money and they were frugal on top of it. As such, when I had a nickel or dime to spend as I pleased, it was a big deal. Every now and then over dinner, my husband and I discuss "back in the day." And since we grew up in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools from first grade through high school (yikes, and college, too) we remember some of the same things. I just realized how strange that last sentence is--that my husband and I had identical childhoods.
We had a little neighborhood grocery store called Louie's. Every kid who went to Ray Bjork Elementary school had great fondess for this place. It is still there in Helena. Packs of sugary gum whether Wrigley's Spearment, Doublemint, Juicy Fruit, or Beeman's and rolls of Life Savers were 5 cents. My favorite gumballs were grape and Sputnik (named after the Russian satelite and it was light blue and bumpy and minty) for either a penny or two for a penny. We could get a can of pop from the walk-in cooler behind the cash register for 10 cents. My favorite was grape or black cherry Shasta. And yes, in Montana, we called it "pop" and never soda. I remember I wasn't a huge fan of Coke until they came out with the diet variety called TAB when I was in high school. Candy bars like Milky Ways or Three Muskateers were also 5 cents. I was never allowed to get the bigger one for 10 cents. Unlike today, where kids are fighting weight issues because they eat this junk everyday, buying a can of pop or a candy bar was an occasional treat back then.
We had one drive-in on the east side of Helena called Scotty's. Now and then we would stop there after returning from a fishing trip or before going to the drive-in movie. Hamburgers were 15 cents, fries were 10 cents as was a small pop. I don't remember how much milk shakes were which is odd because I loved chocolate milk shakes. I do remember chocolate ice cream cones at the little store by the campground in Idaho where we stayed every year, were a nickel for one scoop and a dime for two. Later when I was in high school, the hang out was the A&W and by then hamburgers cost a quarter. My Dad loved a good root beer and I have memories of driving into A&W's for frosty cold real glass mugs of foamy root beer. They'd bring it on a tray and hook it on your car window. A regular was 5 cents and a large, which is what my Dad would get, was 10 cents. There were no McDonald's in Montana until I was in college.
Our student council at the Junior High would sell raised donuts--big and puffy ultra-fresh glazed and chocolate--for a nickel once a week. Krispy-creme does not even come close. My friend and I would walk home from school and stop at Safeway to order cherry phosphates for a dime. Sometimes we would go into the 4 B's cafeteria and get fries for 10 cents or a single hard roll for a nickel depending on how much change we had. Dave remembers because he was a picky eater, he wouldn't eat the school lunches at the Junior High. So he would walk down the street to a nearby hamburger joint and for a nickel, they would grill him a hamburger bun with butter. He couldn't afford the meat. If his Mom knew this, she would die all over again, I swear.
We had a drugstores called Super-Save and they had one in the new mall built not far from Ray Bjork school. I can still picture the sign--88 cents--for 45's. These were records with a single song on each side and a big hole in the middle. You had to put this special column thingy on your record player to play 45's. Albums were called 33's and a good album cost anywhere from $2 to $4. Now I guess it is cool to call records "vinyls." Barbie Dolls which my friends and I played with when we were 10 and 11 and not 4 and 5 like little girls today, were expensive and the clothes were intricate. We only had two or three at most---Barbie, Ken, Midge and maybe Barbie's little sister Skipper. My Mom would not let me have Ken doll so I had Barbie, Midge and Skipper. I am not sure what that was all about but I am certain it had do with prudishness. Anyway, the dolls cost $3.50.
I do not have a memory of how much things in a grocery store cost. Our freezer was full of wild meat and fish including elk, deer, antelope, moose once, ducks and more ducks, sage hens, an occasional pheasant or goose, trout and salmon caught in Idaho. In the summers, when we would run low on game, my Mom would buy beef. I have a vague rememberance of going to a bakery with my Mom to get day old bread, 10 loaves for a dollar, that she would freeze. Likewise, I do not recall clothing prices because my Mom made most of my dresses. One time, though, she bought me an Easter dress because I loved it so much. I can still remember it was a green print with lace trim and it cost $4 which was kind of expensive. My Mom also made my wedding dress in 1973 and for the pattern and material, it cost a whopping $25.
My parents bought the small house where I grew up in 1960 for $11,000, I believe. They sold it 11 years later for not much more than that. Dave's family lived in what was considered kind of a fancy house built in 1952 for $16,000. When his Dad died seven years ago, the family sold it for more than $100,000 and maybe as much as $125,000.
Dave's childhood house on Broadway in Helena--sorry it is blurry.
I suppose it is all relative. But I do believe there is a gluttony in America with children. Treats are no longer treats but everyday expectations. Little girls have boxes full of Barbies and teenagers drink multiple cans of pop everyday. Being given a nickel or a dime or a quarter by an adult was gratefully appreciated and valuable. In fact, Dave remembers that when he was a little kid, he spent gobs of time at the local gun club because his Dad was a champion trap shooter. When he was bored, he would look under the cushions in the chairs and couches for prized coins. As a kid, you could get a lot of "junk" for a few coins and it was always special. I wonder if anything is truly "special" anymore.
// posted by Janet @ 8:09 AM
8 comments
Monday, April 23, 2007
Story in Pictures---Part 2
From the moment we moved Lucas into his dorm as a freshman at UM over three years ago, he has insisted I hike up to the "M" with him. For my readers who live in the flatter parts of our country, let me just say that at least in Montana and perhaps other places, high schools and colleges put their letter on the nearest visible hillside. When I was a kid in Helena, Mt. Helena had an "H" made with painted white rocks for Helena High School and another mountain had a "C" for Carroll College, the private Roman Catholic college. The "C" is no longer there and the "H" is disappearing for unknown reasons--perhaps because they now have two high schools or because it is city park.
The "M" on Mt. Sentinal
At any rate, the "M" in Missoula is solid cement and kept freshly painted. Since I had yet to hike up there with Lucas, Saturday was the day. Shockingly, my husband who has been plagued with knee and hip issues joined Lucas, Magali and me. In fact, he had less of a problem than I did. It takes me a few days to acclimate to higher elevations. I live at sea level, after all, and found myself a tish short of breath on the way up. Also, I refuse to admit that I am not 20 years old anymore. It was great fun with great views.
See the Switchback Trail?
On the way up, Lucas, Magali and me (in pink). See I-90 below heading straight west to Seattle.
Sitting on the "M". We made it!
Lucas is teaching me to text message in this photo. I learned how to do this new technological task over the weekend. In the process of trying to read a text message from Lucas while we were in Idaho telling us it was snowing in Missoula on Friday afternoon, we accidentally down loaded a poker game on my phone. Seriously! I am determined to figure texting out but until the moment in the photo above, I did not know how to make spaces between the words. The conversation came up because we were in disbelief that just the day before it had been snowing.
Heading Home! The Cascade Mountains in Washington.
I was driving and I love the part of the trip where you are done with Eastern Washington and Seattle is less than 100 miles away. Entering the foothills of the Cascades and beginning the ascent up Snoqualmie Pass means we are almost home. I interrupted Dave's clicking away on his lap top and made him take this photo on I-90 west bound. At this point we were about 50-70 miles east of Seattle. The clouds, as usual, were covering the very tops of the mountains and the jungle vegetation begins.
From the moment we moved Lucas into his dorm as a freshman at UM over three years ago, he has insisted I hike up to the "M" with him. For my readers who live in the flatter parts of our country, let me just say that at least in Montana and perhaps other places, high schools and colleges put their letter on the nearest visible hillside. When I was a kid in Helena, Mt. Helena had an "H" made with painted white rocks for Helena High School and another mountain had a "C" for Carroll College, the private Roman Catholic college. The "C" is no longer there and the "H" is disappearing for unknown reasons--perhaps because they now have two high schools or because it is city park.
The "M" on Mt. Sentinal
At any rate, the "M" in Missoula is solid cement and kept freshly painted. Since I had yet to hike up there with Lucas, Saturday was the day. Shockingly, my husband who has been plagued with knee and hip issues joined Lucas, Magali and me. In fact, he had less of a problem than I did. It takes me a few days to acclimate to higher elevations. I live at sea level, after all, and found myself a tish short of breath on the way up. Also, I refuse to admit that I am not 20 years old anymore. It was great fun with great views.
See the Switchback Trail?
On the way up, Lucas, Magali and me (in pink). See I-90 below heading straight west to Seattle.
Sitting on the "M". We made it!
Lucas is teaching me to text message in this photo. I learned how to do this new technological task over the weekend. In the process of trying to read a text message from Lucas while we were in Idaho telling us it was snowing in Missoula on Friday afternoon, we accidentally down loaded a poker game on my phone. Seriously! I am determined to figure texting out but until the moment in the photo above, I did not know how to make spaces between the words. The conversation came up because we were in disbelief that just the day before it had been snowing.
Heading Home! The Cascade Mountains in Washington.
I was driving and I love the part of the trip where you are done with Eastern Washington and Seattle is less than 100 miles away. Entering the foothills of the Cascades and beginning the ascent up Snoqualmie Pass means we are almost home. I interrupted Dave's clicking away on his lap top and made him take this photo on I-90 west bound. At this point we were about 50-70 miles east of Seattle. The clouds, as usual, were covering the very tops of the mountains and the jungle vegetation begins.
// posted by Janet @ 1:35 PM
2 comments
The Story In Pictures
Over the weekend, Dave and I traveled to Missoula, Montana. The trip is about seven hours straight west on I-90. We have made the trip to Montana many times but I always enjoy it because (except for the middle part of Washington) it is gorgeous. Mostly, I drove because now with lap top computers, my husband has made every place his office, including the car. And as long as there is no snow, slush, or ice, I do not mind.
The reason we went was to watch Lucas play his viola and we had the good fortune to attend two concerts--one on Friday night and the grand finale on Saturday. Friday was a music student's senior composition recital. Lucas performed in two of her pieces. In one, he was in a large ensemble of about 15 instruments. Naturally, we loved the other performance because it was just Lucas alone with his viola accompanying a young woman soprano. It was a hauntingly beautiful duet.
On Saturday, we attended the Missoula Symphony's final concert of the season. Lucas loves Shoshtakovich and they performed his Symphony No. 5. We were tired after a day hike but if you are at all familiar with this composer, it is impossible to doze off. Mixed in with all of the music, we treated Lucas and his girlfriend to some nice food. To make the weekend even more special, my Mom drove to Missoula from Helena and joined us. Stupid me did not get people pictures of Lucas in his tuxedo with his Grandma but it was an incredible treat to have her there to share the time together.
The trip in pictures:
Lookout Pass on the border of Montana/Idaho.
Notice the trees. They are infected with the pine beetle. We particularly observed how wide spread the infestation is in the forests in this part of the trip. The problem is aggravated by global warming because the winters are no longer cold enough or long enough to control the pest. As it takes over the trees, they become an extreme fire hazard in the hot, dry summers.
Missoula from the surrounding hills.
I am sad that Lucas is graduating next month. He loves Missoula and it has been fun for him to be in Montana. Missoula is a great city. As we found yummy cinnamon rolls and smoothies downtown, long haired bearded people young and old were hanging out on the sidewalks with scads of big dogs tied to bistro chairs. Not unusual was to see folks walk by carrying a kayak over head.
On Friday night, after the concert, we took Lucas and Magali out for dessert in the Red Bird restaurant's wine bar. Of course, as we walked in, Dave is accosted by quite a group of men and women. Shaking their hands and laughing, "What are you doing here?" Yep, scientists. Dave knows them everywhere. What is weird is that one of them knew my Mom and me because he was the annoying little brother of this girl in my Brownie troop in Helena from over 40 years ago.
The Red Bird is located in what used to be the Florence Hotel. It is now mostly law offices. My Mom lived in Missoula as a little girl and when we entered the front door she remarked that she remembered when the Florence Hotel burned down. She said it was a big deal at the time and she remembers seeing the smoke. In the lobby, sure enough, were pictures of the fire from 1936 when my Mom was eight years old. They rebuilt in the art deco style in 1941. I was like "Whoa!" My Mom is kind of a walking Montana history book.
Florence Hotel as it looks now.
On Saturday morning after cinnamon rolls, we drove around a little. This is fun for my Mom because not only did she live in Missoula as a little girl, but she and my Dad both went to college at UM, too. On the outskirts of town, I spotted something I had not seen since I was a little girl. In Helena, we lived on the edge of town and at times in the spring we would see these birds across the street from our house. Honest to goodness bluebirds!
Bright blue Mr. Bluebird.
Not so blue Mrs. Bluebird. Ah, they are looking at each other.
More Missoula in my next post.
Over the weekend, Dave and I traveled to Missoula, Montana. The trip is about seven hours straight west on I-90. We have made the trip to Montana many times but I always enjoy it because (except for the middle part of Washington) it is gorgeous. Mostly, I drove because now with lap top computers, my husband has made every place his office, including the car. And as long as there is no snow, slush, or ice, I do not mind.
The reason we went was to watch Lucas play his viola and we had the good fortune to attend two concerts--one on Friday night and the grand finale on Saturday. Friday was a music student's senior composition recital. Lucas performed in two of her pieces. In one, he was in a large ensemble of about 15 instruments. Naturally, we loved the other performance because it was just Lucas alone with his viola accompanying a young woman soprano. It was a hauntingly beautiful duet.
On Saturday, we attended the Missoula Symphony's final concert of the season. Lucas loves Shoshtakovich and they performed his Symphony No. 5. We were tired after a day hike but if you are at all familiar with this composer, it is impossible to doze off. Mixed in with all of the music, we treated Lucas and his girlfriend to some nice food. To make the weekend even more special, my Mom drove to Missoula from Helena and joined us. Stupid me did not get people pictures of Lucas in his tuxedo with his Grandma but it was an incredible treat to have her there to share the time together.
The trip in pictures:
Lookout Pass on the border of Montana/Idaho.
Notice the trees. They are infected with the pine beetle. We particularly observed how wide spread the infestation is in the forests in this part of the trip. The problem is aggravated by global warming because the winters are no longer cold enough or long enough to control the pest. As it takes over the trees, they become an extreme fire hazard in the hot, dry summers.
Missoula from the surrounding hills.
I am sad that Lucas is graduating next month. He loves Missoula and it has been fun for him to be in Montana. Missoula is a great city. As we found yummy cinnamon rolls and smoothies downtown, long haired bearded people young and old were hanging out on the sidewalks with scads of big dogs tied to bistro chairs. Not unusual was to see folks walk by carrying a kayak over head.
On Friday night, after the concert, we took Lucas and Magali out for dessert in the Red Bird restaurant's wine bar. Of course, as we walked in, Dave is accosted by quite a group of men and women. Shaking their hands and laughing, "What are you doing here?" Yep, scientists. Dave knows them everywhere. What is weird is that one of them knew my Mom and me because he was the annoying little brother of this girl in my Brownie troop in Helena from over 40 years ago.
The Red Bird is located in what used to be the Florence Hotel. It is now mostly law offices. My Mom lived in Missoula as a little girl and when we entered the front door she remarked that she remembered when the Florence Hotel burned down. She said it was a big deal at the time and she remembers seeing the smoke. In the lobby, sure enough, were pictures of the fire from 1936 when my Mom was eight years old. They rebuilt in the art deco style in 1941. I was like "Whoa!" My Mom is kind of a walking Montana history book.
Florence Hotel as it looks now.
On Saturday morning after cinnamon rolls, we drove around a little. This is fun for my Mom because not only did she live in Missoula as a little girl, but she and my Dad both went to college at UM, too. On the outskirts of town, I spotted something I had not seen since I was a little girl. In Helena, we lived on the edge of town and at times in the spring we would see these birds across the street from our house. Honest to goodness bluebirds!
Bright blue Mr. Bluebird.
Not so blue Mrs. Bluebird. Ah, they are looking at each other.
More Missoula in my next post.
// posted by Janet @ 8:08 AM
4 comments
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
My Diversion From Painful Reality
On Monday night with complete enjoyment after the stresses of the day, we watched Dancing With The Stars as we are doing every week. Apolo Ohno and his partner Julianne were absolutely smokin' hot with their samba. Sure enough the three judges each gave them a perfect ten for a total of thirty points pushing them into the number 1 spot.
On Tuesday, they were picked to repeat their dance because it was stunning and perfect. Our Olympic golden boy is amazingly multi-talented. He is an incredible athlete to be able to dance like this when he is not a dancer. And of course, he is pretty cute, too.
Carol Kaelson/ABC
Look at those thighs! (Uh, his.)
On Monday night with complete enjoyment after the stresses of the day, we watched Dancing With The Stars as we are doing every week. Apolo Ohno and his partner Julianne were absolutely smokin' hot with their samba. Sure enough the three judges each gave them a perfect ten for a total of thirty points pushing them into the number 1 spot.
On Tuesday, they were picked to repeat their dance because it was stunning and perfect. Our Olympic golden boy is amazingly multi-talented. He is an incredible athlete to be able to dance like this when he is not a dancer. And of course, he is pretty cute, too.
Carol Kaelson/ABC
Look at those thighs! (Uh, his.)
// posted by Janet @ 2:00 PM
8 comments
My Head Was Swirling With Thoughts Yesterday
1. Korean. The VT shooter was born in Korea. So what? This had absolutely nothing to do with what happened. He was an American kid who spent the majority of his childhood in America. He was extremely troubled, but being brought up in America had more to do with what happened than his ethnicity.
2. Campus Lockdown. Two weeks ago there was a murder/suicide on the UW campus just steps from my husband's office. He was there when it happened. They did not lock down the campus nor did Dave even know what happened until hours later. I know that VT thought they had a murder/suicide at first, too. So I don't know...but these campuses are huge with thousands of people. If my child or husband was among the victims of the class room massacre at VT, though, I would be furious that they did not do more to alert the rest of the campus after they found the first two bodies. My family members are on three different American college campuses as I write this. Whitman is small with only 1500 students. The UM is bigger with 16,000 students and the UW is twice the size of that.
3. Guns: To Arm or Not to Arm. My son has always had a gun at college. The University of Montana allows guns. It is a 22 rifle. I do not buy the argument that had these kids at VT been armed, this would not have happened. If kids were allowed hand guns willy nilly on campus, who knows what would happen at some of their ridiculous parties. Believe me--they have some outrageous parties with plenty of alcohol and yes, other drugs. Not a good combination with guns. The shooter at VT in good old American tradition, bought his gun easily and legally. If Bush had not allowed the assault weapon ban to expire, a few lives may have been saved. He would not have been able to purchase such a large clip with so many bullets.
4. Iraq War. Within the last ten days, 32 of our best and brightest young Americans were killed in Iraq. Just today alone, 48 Iraqi citizens lost their lives as the madness continues. Yesterday, I went and listened to Bobby's father tell about what a hero Bobby has been in the mess that is the civil war in Iraq. And for serving his country and for efforts he participated in to protect his fellow Marines, he is in prison for eight years. My brain cannot handle the lunacy nor the violence of the last few days.
5. Cell Phones. Yesterday afternoon, after hearing about Bobby and about everything, the piece of information that brought me to my knees was the story about the cell phones. At VT, as they began to carry out the bodies of our beloved American children, there was not silence. Every single one of those kids had a cell phone in a pocket, a purse, or a back pack. While these kids were being placed in body bags and taken to the morgue, their cell phones kept ringing frantically, incessantly.
6. Holocaust Survivor. One of the professors killed at VT was a 76 year old math teacher who had survived the Holocaust. He had been in a death camp in Romania as a child. One of my husband's colleague's at UW, Arno, is also a Holocaust survivor. He is over 80 years old, a world reknown scientist, and he still goes to work every day. He is listed as a principle investigator on my husband's grants even though they are projected over the next 5-10 years. He is a dear old man and even though he is Jewish, he has given us a Christmas gift every single year for over 25 years. And all I could think about when I heard about the math teacher at VT saving his student's lives was Arno. My heart broke into a million pieces.
7. Oh yes, Our Car Was Stolen. After the events of the day, yesterday afternoon, I went to the store to buy Dave and me one of our favorite dinners---king salmon with rice and ceasar salad. The young man in the seafood section as always asked me how my day was going. I get tired of the inane meaningless questions where he expected the obligatory, "Just fine, thank you!"
So I responded after a moment of silence, "Ah, actually not so good. My husband's car was stolen out of the UW parking lot this morning."
He was shocked to not receive the expected answer. "Oh whoa! Ah, whoa. Um. So sorry to hear that."
"Well, compared to what happened on that other campus, yesterday, it is nothing, really." Befuddled and not knowing what else to say, he wrapped up my salmon and wished me a nice dinner.
Yes, our Acura which is actually Kaley's car, was taken without permission. My husband, the classic absent minded professor, was distracted because he had loads of files to carry and transfer to his friend's car so they could travel to Olympia, our state capital, to testify before our legislature and to meet with our governor about the risks of toxic chemicals. He may have dropped the keys near the car---who knows---but when they got back from Olympia, the car was no longer there. A while ago, he parked the car illegally and it got towed for $350, then he lost the keys which cost us $200 to replace, and now he lost the whole entire car. The Seattle police told him in all likelihood, the car will show up in Federal Way in a few days.
Oh well, it is just a car!!
1. Korean. The VT shooter was born in Korea. So what? This had absolutely nothing to do with what happened. He was an American kid who spent the majority of his childhood in America. He was extremely troubled, but being brought up in America had more to do with what happened than his ethnicity.
2. Campus Lockdown. Two weeks ago there was a murder/suicide on the UW campus just steps from my husband's office. He was there when it happened. They did not lock down the campus nor did Dave even know what happened until hours later. I know that VT thought they had a murder/suicide at first, too. So I don't know...but these campuses are huge with thousands of people. If my child or husband was among the victims of the class room massacre at VT, though, I would be furious that they did not do more to alert the rest of the campus after they found the first two bodies. My family members are on three different American college campuses as I write this. Whitman is small with only 1500 students. The UM is bigger with 16,000 students and the UW is twice the size of that.
3. Guns: To Arm or Not to Arm. My son has always had a gun at college. The University of Montana allows guns. It is a 22 rifle. I do not buy the argument that had these kids at VT been armed, this would not have happened. If kids were allowed hand guns willy nilly on campus, who knows what would happen at some of their ridiculous parties. Believe me--they have some outrageous parties with plenty of alcohol and yes, other drugs. Not a good combination with guns. The shooter at VT in good old American tradition, bought his gun easily and legally. If Bush had not allowed the assault weapon ban to expire, a few lives may have been saved. He would not have been able to purchase such a large clip with so many bullets.
4. Iraq War. Within the last ten days, 32 of our best and brightest young Americans were killed in Iraq. Just today alone, 48 Iraqi citizens lost their lives as the madness continues. Yesterday, I went and listened to Bobby's father tell about what a hero Bobby has been in the mess that is the civil war in Iraq. And for serving his country and for efforts he participated in to protect his fellow Marines, he is in prison for eight years. My brain cannot handle the lunacy nor the violence of the last few days.
5. Cell Phones. Yesterday afternoon, after hearing about Bobby and about everything, the piece of information that brought me to my knees was the story about the cell phones. At VT, as they began to carry out the bodies of our beloved American children, there was not silence. Every single one of those kids had a cell phone in a pocket, a purse, or a back pack. While these kids were being placed in body bags and taken to the morgue, their cell phones kept ringing frantically, incessantly.
6. Holocaust Survivor. One of the professors killed at VT was a 76 year old math teacher who had survived the Holocaust. He had been in a death camp in Romania as a child. One of my husband's colleague's at UW, Arno, is also a Holocaust survivor. He is over 80 years old, a world reknown scientist, and he still goes to work every day. He is listed as a principle investigator on my husband's grants even though they are projected over the next 5-10 years. He is a dear old man and even though he is Jewish, he has given us a Christmas gift every single year for over 25 years. And all I could think about when I heard about the math teacher at VT saving his student's lives was Arno. My heart broke into a million pieces.
7. Oh yes, Our Car Was Stolen. After the events of the day, yesterday afternoon, I went to the store to buy Dave and me one of our favorite dinners---king salmon with rice and ceasar salad. The young man in the seafood section as always asked me how my day was going. I get tired of the inane meaningless questions where he expected the obligatory, "Just fine, thank you!"
So I responded after a moment of silence, "Ah, actually not so good. My husband's car was stolen out of the UW parking lot this morning."
He was shocked to not receive the expected answer. "Oh whoa! Ah, whoa. Um. So sorry to hear that."
"Well, compared to what happened on that other campus, yesterday, it is nothing, really." Befuddled and not knowing what else to say, he wrapped up my salmon and wished me a nice dinner.
Yes, our Acura which is actually Kaley's car, was taken without permission. My husband, the classic absent minded professor, was distracted because he had loads of files to carry and transfer to his friend's car so they could travel to Olympia, our state capital, to testify before our legislature and to meet with our governor about the risks of toxic chemicals. He may have dropped the keys near the car---who knows---but when they got back from Olympia, the car was no longer there. A while ago, he parked the car illegally and it got towed for $350, then he lost the keys which cost us $200 to replace, and now he lost the whole entire car. The Seattle police told him in all likelihood, the car will show up in Federal Way in a few days.
Oh well, it is just a car!!
// posted by Janet @ 7:34 AM
0 comments
Monday, April 16, 2007
I AM COMPLETELY HORRIFIED
I just got back from a long walk, took a shower, ate some lunch, checked Apolo's ears because he has been shaking his head a little and then I turned on CNN.
I have two college children. Thirty-two people--students--have been killed in a shooting rampage at Virginia Tech. This is by far the worst school shooting in our history. When Columbine happened, Lucas was a freshman in high school and that got to me when you can identify with the children and the parents. And now this is a college shooting and my kids are this age.
This is unimaginable.
I just got back from a long walk, took a shower, ate some lunch, checked Apolo's ears because he has been shaking his head a little and then I turned on CNN.
I have two college children. Thirty-two people--students--have been killed in a shooting rampage at Virginia Tech. This is by far the worst school shooting in our history. When Columbine happened, Lucas was a freshman in high school and that got to me when you can identify with the children and the parents. And now this is a college shooting and my kids are this age.
This is unimaginable.
// posted by Janet @ 12:34 PM
2 comments
Vicarious Travel
My son spent his spring break in Utah and he sent me these fabulous photos:
Rock Climber Magali and she really is! (Luke's girl)
That's my boy!
Yikes!
My son spent his spring break in Utah and he sent me these fabulous photos:
Rock Climber Magali and she really is! (Luke's girl)
That's my boy!
Yikes!
// posted by Janet @ 9:23 AM
1 comments
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Absolute or Perfect Pitch
People often ask my husband and me if we are musical. Usually, the question comes up in conversation when we explain where are children are and what they are doing. Our daughter is a music major in both voice and piano performance. Our son plays the viola in the UM orchestra and the Missoula symphony. We are planning to travel to Missoula next week to listen to Lucas play his viola with a soprano for another student's senior recital. As I have written before, our daughter is in a band where she plays the guitar and does vocals. The point is, both of our children enjoy their music. Our daughter is ultra-passionate about every aspect of music.
Neither my husband nor I are musical. I took piano lessons for four years and it was a struggle. My husband tried to be in a band in junior high but they demoted him to do the light show. Dave's parents were not particularly musical although Dave's Mom would play the organ by ear. My parents---sorry, Mom, but nope, nor were either set of my grandparents.
I have heard family stories. I have a first cousin on my Dad's side who was a music major at the UM and she plays the piano and sings. Dave has a first cousin on his Dad's side who is a professional singer in the midwest and she does jingles for commercials. Dave had an aunt on the same side of the family who was a successful opera singer. My Mom has relatives on her Dad's side who we are told had beautiful voices and could play multiple instruments. My sister-in-law sings and plays the piano but she is not blood related to my kids. Frankly, I suspect, every single family has the exact same stories.
For some reason I do not understand, both of my children were attracted to music over other activities and I followed their lead. They asked me for lessons. They asked me for instruments. They practiced without my interference. Both of them could have practiced more but they were each self-motivated. What is also unusual, is that neither Dave nor I could guide them in any way and we were totally dependent on their teachers.
Kaley has always done well with music theory. Unlike other music majors who hate having to take it, Kaley likes it--a lot. Discovering that she could do things without thinking, her teacher at Whitman pulled her aside and did a little testing. She informed her she had absolute or perfect pitch. Evidently, Kaley is required to tell this fact to her music history professor because for students like her, tests have to be adjusted. Let's see if I, not being musical, can explain this. I'm sure Kaley will point out the error of my ways. In this class, they learn about historical pieces of music. Many of them are named or titled by the key in which they are written (Bach Sonata in F Major for example) The students learn the about the history and the composer of these particular pieces and then when quizzed, the prof plays the music. The students then are required to name the piece.
Since Kaley is able to immediately identify the key of a piece of music simply by hearing it, she is not challenged to recognize all of the things she is supposed to be learning. In order for me to understand all of this, I did a little looking online about "absolute pitch" and this is what I found (thank goodness for Wikipedia and Answers.com):
Absolute pitch (AP), widely referred to as perfect pitch, is the ability of a person to identify or sing a musical note without the benefit of a known reference.
Definition
Absolute pitch, or perfect pitch, is "the ability to attach labels to isolated auditory stimuli on the basis of pitch alone" without external reference. Possessors of absolute pitch exhibit the ability in varying degrees. Generally, absolute pitch implies some or all of the following abilities:
>>Identify and name individual pitches played on various instruments
>>Name the key of a given piece of tonal music
>>Identify and name all the tones of a given chord or other tonal mass
>>Sing a given pitch without an external reference
>>Name the pitches of common everyday occurrences such as car horns
Individuals may possess both absolute pitch and relative pitch ability in varying degrees. Both relative and absolute pitch work together in actual musical listening and practice, although individuals exhibit preferred strategies in using each skill.
http://www.answers.com/topic/absolute-pitch
Kaley is kind of like a walking tuning fork or pitch pipe. You can play a note for her on any instrument and she can tell you what the note is. She can also identify chords and as described above, when she hears a song, she can tell you what key it is written in. You can say to her, sing an "A" for me and she can do so. Also, she evidently knows what note or tone the bells and alarms at Kamiak high school ring in. When she explains it to me and what it is like she says that for her it is like naming colors. If I look at the rhodie outside my window right now, I immediately know it is red. When Kaley hears a chord or a single note, she immediately knows its name in the same way.
Evidently, 1 in 10,000 people have this ability. Scientists aren't sure if it is genetic or learned but think probably a combination of the two especially if music education is begun at an early age. Kaley probably has the genetic predisposition but then it was helped along because I started her in Kindermusik classes at age 3. She was taking piano lessons by age 6. She could read music before she could read words. But I started her in music so early because she was so drawn to anything musical. Her whole way of thinking or experiencing the world is with music and because I am observant, I recognized that in her by the time she was 18 months old. So, it is a chicken and egg thing.
Interestingly, perfect pitch is not required to become a successful musician. Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, and Liszt had it but Haydn, Wagner, and Stravinsky did not. Certainly for Kaley, it helps her with classes she needs to take as a music major. She can tune her guitar and nobody sweats if somebody forgot the pitch pipe before a gig.
Who knows where it came from? Certainly, not from Dave or me but I am glad--sooo glad my kids love music. It will be a source of enjoyment for them for their entire lives. And for me, too!
Our circa 1880's cherry wood piano which has been in my family since it was brand new. Kaley took lessons on it, as did I, as did my Mom, as did my Grandma, and my Great Grandma.
Yes, my Dad (the handsome center one) played the violin until he discovered the love of his life---basketball. This photo was just sent to me by my sister-in-law and it must be about 1939. He graduated from high school in 1941.
Parents, start the music education early because evidently the window closes if children are not exposed before the age of 11.
People often ask my husband and me if we are musical. Usually, the question comes up in conversation when we explain where are children are and what they are doing. Our daughter is a music major in both voice and piano performance. Our son plays the viola in the UM orchestra and the Missoula symphony. We are planning to travel to Missoula next week to listen to Lucas play his viola with a soprano for another student's senior recital. As I have written before, our daughter is in a band where she plays the guitar and does vocals. The point is, both of our children enjoy their music. Our daughter is ultra-passionate about every aspect of music.
Neither my husband nor I are musical. I took piano lessons for four years and it was a struggle. My husband tried to be in a band in junior high but they demoted him to do the light show. Dave's parents were not particularly musical although Dave's Mom would play the organ by ear. My parents---sorry, Mom, but nope, nor were either set of my grandparents.
I have heard family stories. I have a first cousin on my Dad's side who was a music major at the UM and she plays the piano and sings. Dave has a first cousin on his Dad's side who is a professional singer in the midwest and she does jingles for commercials. Dave had an aunt on the same side of the family who was a successful opera singer. My Mom has relatives on her Dad's side who we are told had beautiful voices and could play multiple instruments. My sister-in-law sings and plays the piano but she is not blood related to my kids. Frankly, I suspect, every single family has the exact same stories.
For some reason I do not understand, both of my children were attracted to music over other activities and I followed their lead. They asked me for lessons. They asked me for instruments. They practiced without my interference. Both of them could have practiced more but they were each self-motivated. What is also unusual, is that neither Dave nor I could guide them in any way and we were totally dependent on their teachers.
Kaley has always done well with music theory. Unlike other music majors who hate having to take it, Kaley likes it--a lot. Discovering that she could do things without thinking, her teacher at Whitman pulled her aside and did a little testing. She informed her she had absolute or perfect pitch. Evidently, Kaley is required to tell this fact to her music history professor because for students like her, tests have to be adjusted. Let's see if I, not being musical, can explain this. I'm sure Kaley will point out the error of my ways. In this class, they learn about historical pieces of music. Many of them are named or titled by the key in which they are written (Bach Sonata in F Major for example) The students learn the about the history and the composer of these particular pieces and then when quizzed, the prof plays the music. The students then are required to name the piece.
Since Kaley is able to immediately identify the key of a piece of music simply by hearing it, she is not challenged to recognize all of the things she is supposed to be learning. In order for me to understand all of this, I did a little looking online about "absolute pitch" and this is what I found (thank goodness for Wikipedia and Answers.com):
Absolute pitch (AP), widely referred to as perfect pitch, is the ability of a person to identify or sing a musical note without the benefit of a known reference.
Definition
Absolute pitch, or perfect pitch, is "the ability to attach labels to isolated auditory stimuli on the basis of pitch alone" without external reference. Possessors of absolute pitch exhibit the ability in varying degrees. Generally, absolute pitch implies some or all of the following abilities:
>>Identify and name individual pitches played on various instruments
>>Name the key of a given piece of tonal music
>>Identify and name all the tones of a given chord or other tonal mass
>>Sing a given pitch without an external reference
>>Name the pitches of common everyday occurrences such as car horns
Individuals may possess both absolute pitch and relative pitch ability in varying degrees. Both relative and absolute pitch work together in actual musical listening and practice, although individuals exhibit preferred strategies in using each skill.
http://www.answers.com/topic/absolute-pitch
Kaley is kind of like a walking tuning fork or pitch pipe. You can play a note for her on any instrument and she can tell you what the note is. She can also identify chords and as described above, when she hears a song, she can tell you what key it is written in. You can say to her, sing an "A" for me and she can do so. Also, she evidently knows what note or tone the bells and alarms at Kamiak high school ring in. When she explains it to me and what it is like she says that for her it is like naming colors. If I look at the rhodie outside my window right now, I immediately know it is red. When Kaley hears a chord or a single note, she immediately knows its name in the same way.
Evidently, 1 in 10,000 people have this ability. Scientists aren't sure if it is genetic or learned but think probably a combination of the two especially if music education is begun at an early age. Kaley probably has the genetic predisposition but then it was helped along because I started her in Kindermusik classes at age 3. She was taking piano lessons by age 6. She could read music before she could read words. But I started her in music so early because she was so drawn to anything musical. Her whole way of thinking or experiencing the world is with music and because I am observant, I recognized that in her by the time she was 18 months old. So, it is a chicken and egg thing.
Interestingly, perfect pitch is not required to become a successful musician. Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, and Liszt had it but Haydn, Wagner, and Stravinsky did not. Certainly for Kaley, it helps her with classes she needs to take as a music major. She can tune her guitar and nobody sweats if somebody forgot the pitch pipe before a gig.
Who knows where it came from? Certainly, not from Dave or me but I am glad--sooo glad my kids love music. It will be a source of enjoyment for them for their entire lives. And for me, too!
Our circa 1880's cherry wood piano which has been in my family since it was brand new. Kaley took lessons on it, as did I, as did my Mom, as did my Grandma, and my Great Grandma.
Yes, my Dad (the handsome center one) played the violin until he discovered the love of his life---basketball. This photo was just sent to me by my sister-in-law and it must be about 1939. He graduated from high school in 1941.
Parents, start the music education early because evidently the window closes if children are not exposed before the age of 11.
// posted by Janet @ 9:33 AM
5 comments
Monday, April 09, 2007
Rosemary
On Friday it was nearly 80 degrees. The warmth lasted only one day but I was determined to stay outside a good share of the day which I did. After we put in our fountain last summer, we rearranged some of our bushes and added some plantings. But after all of the rain and some sun, the weeds were taking over. All by myself, I managed to load up two wheel barrows full of left over bark piled in a cramped spot on the side of our house and hauled it around to the back. I pulled out the weeds and shoveled bark until it got too hot---I did finish, though. In the process, I discovered yet another rosemary bush I didn't know we had.
Oh, being warm is wonderful. I am still freezing after Easter Sunday. My job was to be a greeter at the door of our church and hand out bulletins. I really enjoy doing this but it is especially fun on Easter because we have a few new and different faces. I got to wish everyone a Happy Easter and welcome them to our service. One couple asked me if they would be allowed to take Communion even though they were not members. "Yes! Absolutely! We welcome everyone to our altar rail. Please do not hesitate to go up--just follow everybody else." Sweet! Anyway, we opened our doors as we greeted and it was quite chilly. Seriously, I refused to wear a winter coat and I think I suffered a little hypothermia.
What does all of this have to do with rosemary? Dave and I were alone for our Easter dinner. Our daughter cooked a gourmet Easter meal for 11 of her friends at college. Her boyfriend (yes, a new thing) took her shopping and helped set her up in the kitchen of their dorm. Our son and his girlfriend went to Helena where all of my family including my brother and his wife, my nephews and their wives and children ate at my Mom's house. I was feeling a little sorry for myself so Dave cooked one of his signature dishes---rack of lamb. His recipe requires a ton of rosemary.
Dave has been obsessed with rosemary ever since we lived in Lyon, France in 1995. The house where we stayed had a giant rosemary bush right next to the kitchen door. He would use some of the dry branches on the little charcoal grill we had and of course, we picked it and used it as an herb in all sorts of things. Oh, these are such lovely memories. He has always wanted a rosemary bush like that one. At our house up the hill, he tried and tried and we could never grow one over six inches tall. Simply, our yard did not have enough sun and it was too soggy. Once we moved to this house, Dave started planting rosemary bushes in all parts of the yard to see if any of them would take and grow. I think he can stop now.
We have five rosemary bushes growing like crazy including the one Apolo pees on. (We just don't use that one to cook with!) They are all a little different so we have a variety of tastes and aromas. At the moment, one of them is covered with blue blossoms and it is gorgeous. Not only do we use it for lamb, but I pick it for soups, stews, beef roasts and kabobs, chicken, turkey and pork. We don't use it much on fish.
Back yard rosemary.
Front yard rosemary.
Apolo did not like having his picture taken today. He was not cooperating and you can tell by the look on his face. "Mom, this is so stupid--taking pictures of bushes! I don't care about your bribery morsel in your hand this time. You are just using me for size perspective and not because you think I am cute."
On Friday it was nearly 80 degrees. The warmth lasted only one day but I was determined to stay outside a good share of the day which I did. After we put in our fountain last summer, we rearranged some of our bushes and added some plantings. But after all of the rain and some sun, the weeds were taking over. All by myself, I managed to load up two wheel barrows full of left over bark piled in a cramped spot on the side of our house and hauled it around to the back. I pulled out the weeds and shoveled bark until it got too hot---I did finish, though. In the process, I discovered yet another rosemary bush I didn't know we had.
Oh, being warm is wonderful. I am still freezing after Easter Sunday. My job was to be a greeter at the door of our church and hand out bulletins. I really enjoy doing this but it is especially fun on Easter because we have a few new and different faces. I got to wish everyone a Happy Easter and welcome them to our service. One couple asked me if they would be allowed to take Communion even though they were not members. "Yes! Absolutely! We welcome everyone to our altar rail. Please do not hesitate to go up--just follow everybody else." Sweet! Anyway, we opened our doors as we greeted and it was quite chilly. Seriously, I refused to wear a winter coat and I think I suffered a little hypothermia.
What does all of this have to do with rosemary? Dave and I were alone for our Easter dinner. Our daughter cooked a gourmet Easter meal for 11 of her friends at college. Her boyfriend (yes, a new thing) took her shopping and helped set her up in the kitchen of their dorm. Our son and his girlfriend went to Helena where all of my family including my brother and his wife, my nephews and their wives and children ate at my Mom's house. I was feeling a little sorry for myself so Dave cooked one of his signature dishes---rack of lamb. His recipe requires a ton of rosemary.
Dave has been obsessed with rosemary ever since we lived in Lyon, France in 1995. The house where we stayed had a giant rosemary bush right next to the kitchen door. He would use some of the dry branches on the little charcoal grill we had and of course, we picked it and used it as an herb in all sorts of things. Oh, these are such lovely memories. He has always wanted a rosemary bush like that one. At our house up the hill, he tried and tried and we could never grow one over six inches tall. Simply, our yard did not have enough sun and it was too soggy. Once we moved to this house, Dave started planting rosemary bushes in all parts of the yard to see if any of them would take and grow. I think he can stop now.
We have five rosemary bushes growing like crazy including the one Apolo pees on. (We just don't use that one to cook with!) They are all a little different so we have a variety of tastes and aromas. At the moment, one of them is covered with blue blossoms and it is gorgeous. Not only do we use it for lamb, but I pick it for soups, stews, beef roasts and kabobs, chicken, turkey and pork. We don't use it much on fish.
Back yard rosemary.
Front yard rosemary.
Apolo did not like having his picture taken today. He was not cooperating and you can tell by the look on his face. "Mom, this is so stupid--taking pictures of bushes! I don't care about your bribery morsel in your hand this time. You are just using me for size perspective and not because you think I am cute."
// posted by Janet @ 11:58 AM
0 comments
Saturday, April 07, 2007
And This Really Happened Just Now
Dave and I were eating King Crab on this Easter Eve. As most people who know me realize, I find whales to be a spiritual experience. I saw orcas once on Thanksgiving day so to see whales on Easter is just fabulous. I admit, I belong to a whale sighting network so I receive regular e-mails tracking the whales. At this particular time of year, gray whales make a foray into Puget Sound on their way from Mexico to Alaska and people have been seeing a few of them here and there around Whidbey and Camano Islands in the last few days. In fact, I saw spouts quite a ways away just a few days ago.
As we were finishing our crab, I said to my husband this would be perfect if I saw a whale closer than what I saw the other day. The minute I finished saying that, we both saw a spout. I screamed so loud that Dave covered his ears. I'm sorry but this is the ultimate for me. We watched as, I believe, two whales traveled north toward the ferry. Dave only saw one but I am certain I saw two whale backs come out of the water. We also saw tail. Since I belong to the whale sighting network, it is my responsibility to report what I see with as much detail as I can muster. Happily, I just did.
http://www.orcanetwork.org/
Jumping up and down--Happy Easter everyone!
Dave and I were eating King Crab on this Easter Eve. As most people who know me realize, I find whales to be a spiritual experience. I saw orcas once on Thanksgiving day so to see whales on Easter is just fabulous. I admit, I belong to a whale sighting network so I receive regular e-mails tracking the whales. At this particular time of year, gray whales make a foray into Puget Sound on their way from Mexico to Alaska and people have been seeing a few of them here and there around Whidbey and Camano Islands in the last few days. In fact, I saw spouts quite a ways away just a few days ago.
As we were finishing our crab, I said to my husband this would be perfect if I saw a whale closer than what I saw the other day. The minute I finished saying that, we both saw a spout. I screamed so loud that Dave covered his ears. I'm sorry but this is the ultimate for me. We watched as, I believe, two whales traveled north toward the ferry. Dave only saw one but I am certain I saw two whale backs come out of the water. We also saw tail. Since I belong to the whale sighting network, it is my responsibility to report what I see with as much detail as I can muster. Happily, I just did.
http://www.orcanetwork.org/
Jumping up and down--Happy Easter everyone!
// posted by Janet @ 7:32 PM
1 comments
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Pray for Peace
Four years ago the war in Iraq began. I remember Easter that year because I became outraged when I went to my local drugstore and discovered pre-packaged Easter baskets for children with plastic machine guns, military helmets and toy grenades. I also remember that our current administration did a masterful job of making people feel unpatriotic if they prayed for Peace on Easter. I know we are supposed to be forgiving and turn the other cheek and all of that but making folks believe they are not supporting the troops if they pray for peace is almost impossible for me to forgive.
Several of my friends have asked me about my son's childhood buddy, Bobby. I have written about him a few times on this blog. I do not really know how to express what I am feeling about what happened to him. I think about him every single day. Bobby joined the Marines after 9/11 when he was a senior in high school. This was five years ago. Not long after, he was sent to Iraq at age 18. He came home a hero and was sent to Iraq a second time and participated in the bloody violent combat in Fallujah. We have not been told by our government all that went on there because my guess is that it was horrible and shocking. Bobby's Mom never realized what happened to her child in the battles he participated in. His friends were blown up beside him.
Bobby came home a second time with just a minor scar above his eyebrow. His Mom is only now learning the extent of the damage that occurred inside his head and heart. Bobby was sent back to Iraq a third time. Other friends were blown to pieces as he and his fellow Marines faced the daily horror of IED's. As a result, Bobby was implicated along with seven others in the murder of an Iraqi civilian. Now at 22, Bobby has been sentenced to eight years in prison. With good behavior and with credit for time served, this may eventually be reduced to five years.
I still have this vision in my head of Bobby cuddling a baby Apolo puppy in our back yard five years ago. He was Lucas' friend from the time he was five years old. He is a good kid and a bright kid and terrible things happened to him. Bobby is not evil and this is where I get all tangled up and start to cry. My priest has tried to explain to me the sins of the whole world and why and how Jesus was crucified for all of this. Bobby is being punished not only for his sins but the sins of others and the evil that is manifested in war.
When we traveled to Charlotte, we noticed many young kids in fatigues at the airport and on the airplanes. I overheard one young man say he was being sent to Iraq for time number two. The dumpy restaurant where we ate the last night in Charlotte, which was next to our kind of icky motel, had a busload of kids come in as we were about to leave. A couple of them had on fatigues and were in charge of the group. They asked for seating and explained they had meal vouchers. These "children"---and I say children because they all looked younger than my daughter--were wide eyed and solemn. Our conclusion was that they were off to boot camp or whatever the first entry step is into the military. They all looked so young and baby-faced and innocent.
We paid our bill. Outside, as we walked across the parking lot to the motel, I couldn't take it anymore. The madness of it all overwhelmed me and the tears flowed. My husband did not have dry eyes either. All of those children have mothers and fathers and siblings and grandparents who love them. Bobby was like that once, too. He was innocent. This Easter I am praying for Bobby and I am praying for all of the kids we encountered on our trip to Charlotte. And when I say, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us," I will be asking for forgiveness of the sins of the world.
I will pray for Peace.
Four years ago the war in Iraq began. I remember Easter that year because I became outraged when I went to my local drugstore and discovered pre-packaged Easter baskets for children with plastic machine guns, military helmets and toy grenades. I also remember that our current administration did a masterful job of making people feel unpatriotic if they prayed for Peace on Easter. I know we are supposed to be forgiving and turn the other cheek and all of that but making folks believe they are not supporting the troops if they pray for peace is almost impossible for me to forgive.
Several of my friends have asked me about my son's childhood buddy, Bobby. I have written about him a few times on this blog. I do not really know how to express what I am feeling about what happened to him. I think about him every single day. Bobby joined the Marines after 9/11 when he was a senior in high school. This was five years ago. Not long after, he was sent to Iraq at age 18. He came home a hero and was sent to Iraq a second time and participated in the bloody violent combat in Fallujah. We have not been told by our government all that went on there because my guess is that it was horrible and shocking. Bobby's Mom never realized what happened to her child in the battles he participated in. His friends were blown up beside him.
Bobby came home a second time with just a minor scar above his eyebrow. His Mom is only now learning the extent of the damage that occurred inside his head and heart. Bobby was sent back to Iraq a third time. Other friends were blown to pieces as he and his fellow Marines faced the daily horror of IED's. As a result, Bobby was implicated along with seven others in the murder of an Iraqi civilian. Now at 22, Bobby has been sentenced to eight years in prison. With good behavior and with credit for time served, this may eventually be reduced to five years.
I still have this vision in my head of Bobby cuddling a baby Apolo puppy in our back yard five years ago. He was Lucas' friend from the time he was five years old. He is a good kid and a bright kid and terrible things happened to him. Bobby is not evil and this is where I get all tangled up and start to cry. My priest has tried to explain to me the sins of the whole world and why and how Jesus was crucified for all of this. Bobby is being punished not only for his sins but the sins of others and the evil that is manifested in war.
When we traveled to Charlotte, we noticed many young kids in fatigues at the airport and on the airplanes. I overheard one young man say he was being sent to Iraq for time number two. The dumpy restaurant where we ate the last night in Charlotte, which was next to our kind of icky motel, had a busload of kids come in as we were about to leave. A couple of them had on fatigues and were in charge of the group. They asked for seating and explained they had meal vouchers. These "children"---and I say children because they all looked younger than my daughter--were wide eyed and solemn. Our conclusion was that they were off to boot camp or whatever the first entry step is into the military. They all looked so young and baby-faced and innocent.
We paid our bill. Outside, as we walked across the parking lot to the motel, I couldn't take it anymore. The madness of it all overwhelmed me and the tears flowed. My husband did not have dry eyes either. All of those children have mothers and fathers and siblings and grandparents who love them. Bobby was like that once, too. He was innocent. This Easter I am praying for Bobby and I am praying for all of the kids we encountered on our trip to Charlotte. And when I say, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us," I will be asking for forgiveness of the sins of the world.
I will pray for Peace.
// posted by Janet @ 3:11 PM
3 comments
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
More Charlotte Follow-Up
1. Jay Walking. By now, everyone knows that we do not jay walk in Seattle. When the crossing light has the red hand, we stay put even if no cars are in sight. Not so in Charlotte. I did a lot of walking around "uptown" during the noon hour when many workers were on lunch break. I would be standing at a street corner waiting properly for the red hand to change to the little man, and I'd realize everyone else crossed. I cannot get used to that. I feel like I am flagrantly breaking a very important law---which I would be in downtown Seattle. I can verify that even anti-war protesters in Seattle do not jay walk without a permit!
2. Smoking. North Carolina is or was tobacco land so it is no surprise that smoking regulations are not as strict as Seattle's. Actually, smoking is banned in the state of Washington. You cannot smoke in bars and no smoking is allowed within two miles of entry doors to businesses. Naturally, our hotels and restaurants are all smoke free. The gambling casinos on tribal land do allow smoking, I guess, since the state has no jurisdiction over them. Frankly, I have never been to one so I am not sure what their smoking rules are.
In Charlotte, restaurants still have smoking and non-smoking sections. After living in a smoke free world, you realize that the smoke still permeates everything even in the non-smoking areas. One thing that bugged us was that smoking was allowed in all of the outdoor seating. We liked to be outside because the weather was nice but all of the diners could smoke. In my view, at the very least, outdoor areas should have been divided into smoking and non-smoking, too.
The small motel where we stayed near the Charlotte airport after our flight problem, placed us in a non-smoking room. But since they allowed smoking in other rooms, the entire place reeked.
3. Seafood. Seafood on the other side of the country is different than ours. We do not have lobster and we do not have blue crab. However, we have Dungeness and Alaskan king crab. Our several varieties of salmon and fresh halibut are the best. In one particular Charlotte restaurant, our server was orginally from New Orleans. He left after Katrina and went to Seattle for a while before settling back in the South in Charlotte. When he realized we were from Seattle, he told us not to order their fish because in no way could it compare to the salmon and halibut in Seattle.
I will concede on one issue. Crab cakes made with blue crab are scrumptious and we had some wonderful blue crab cakes in Charlotte. Crab cakes with Dungeness just do not measure up. Dungeness should be eaten pure and fresh right out of the shell.
Unfortunately, our daughter is allergic to crab, shrimp and lobster so we cannot eat crab when she is at home. Even smelling it causes her to have an asthmatic response. We discovered the problem at Christmas time when she was about 8 or 9. Our family tradition was to eat crab on Christmas eve. When the children were little, they did not like it much but started eating more of it as they grew older. Kaley ate a tiny bit that night. She had some of the juice on her hands and she touched her eye. Her eye swelled up to the point of being totally shut and she felt tingling in her throat. We immediately gave her anti-histamines but her eye turned black and blue and remained swollen for several days. It was just terrible. Eventually, we took her to an allergy specialist and tests confirmed what we knew. She now carries an epi-pen.
Anyway, since she has returned to college, we had crab last night. The grocery store where we usually buy them did not have any pre-cooked so I bought them live out of the tank and cooked them myself. Yes, I murdered two living creatures. One of them even clicked at me before I sunk him in the boiling pot of water.
Before--Alive on their backs!
After--Dead on their stomachs!
1. Jay Walking. By now, everyone knows that we do not jay walk in Seattle. When the crossing light has the red hand, we stay put even if no cars are in sight. Not so in Charlotte. I did a lot of walking around "uptown" during the noon hour when many workers were on lunch break. I would be standing at a street corner waiting properly for the red hand to change to the little man, and I'd realize everyone else crossed. I cannot get used to that. I feel like I am flagrantly breaking a very important law---which I would be in downtown Seattle. I can verify that even anti-war protesters in Seattle do not jay walk without a permit!
2. Smoking. North Carolina is or was tobacco land so it is no surprise that smoking regulations are not as strict as Seattle's. Actually, smoking is banned in the state of Washington. You cannot smoke in bars and no smoking is allowed within two miles of entry doors to businesses. Naturally, our hotels and restaurants are all smoke free. The gambling casinos on tribal land do allow smoking, I guess, since the state has no jurisdiction over them. Frankly, I have never been to one so I am not sure what their smoking rules are.
In Charlotte, restaurants still have smoking and non-smoking sections. After living in a smoke free world, you realize that the smoke still permeates everything even in the non-smoking areas. One thing that bugged us was that smoking was allowed in all of the outdoor seating. We liked to be outside because the weather was nice but all of the diners could smoke. In my view, at the very least, outdoor areas should have been divided into smoking and non-smoking, too.
The small motel where we stayed near the Charlotte airport after our flight problem, placed us in a non-smoking room. But since they allowed smoking in other rooms, the entire place reeked.
3. Seafood. Seafood on the other side of the country is different than ours. We do not have lobster and we do not have blue crab. However, we have Dungeness and Alaskan king crab. Our several varieties of salmon and fresh halibut are the best. In one particular Charlotte restaurant, our server was orginally from New Orleans. He left after Katrina and went to Seattle for a while before settling back in the South in Charlotte. When he realized we were from Seattle, he told us not to order their fish because in no way could it compare to the salmon and halibut in Seattle.
I will concede on one issue. Crab cakes made with blue crab are scrumptious and we had some wonderful blue crab cakes in Charlotte. Crab cakes with Dungeness just do not measure up. Dungeness should be eaten pure and fresh right out of the shell.
Unfortunately, our daughter is allergic to crab, shrimp and lobster so we cannot eat crab when she is at home. Even smelling it causes her to have an asthmatic response. We discovered the problem at Christmas time when she was about 8 or 9. Our family tradition was to eat crab on Christmas eve. When the children were little, they did not like it much but started eating more of it as they grew older. Kaley ate a tiny bit that night. She had some of the juice on her hands and she touched her eye. Her eye swelled up to the point of being totally shut and she felt tingling in her throat. We immediately gave her anti-histamines but her eye turned black and blue and remained swollen for several days. It was just terrible. Eventually, we took her to an allergy specialist and tests confirmed what we knew. She now carries an epi-pen.
Anyway, since she has returned to college, we had crab last night. The grocery store where we usually buy them did not have any pre-cooked so I bought them live out of the tank and cooked them myself. Yes, I murdered two living creatures. One of them even clicked at me before I sunk him in the boiling pot of water.
Before--Alive on their backs!
After--Dead on their stomachs!
// posted by Janet @ 8:45 AM
8 comments
Monday, April 02, 2007
The Influence of Seattle on the Rest of the Country!
After thinking about my trip to Charlotte, I decided the positives outweighed the negatives. I did get to be with my husband and he told me he was happy he didn't have to suffer the flight cancellations alone. He has traveled so much by himself over the years. Being in Charlotte was pleasant and relaxing and warm. And I am always curious about different cultures. Unfortunately, anyone who travels around our country finds things are becoming homogenous. The malls have the exact same stores and streets are lined with the exact same fast food places.
I love Seattle and its culture but I would like to keep it to ourselves. I want us to be unique. I would like every city to be unique so that when we travel somewhere else, it would all be new and different. We did manage to find restaurants with Southern cooking and local ingredients but there were moments where we could have been in downtown Seattle. For example:
1. Starbucks. The hotel where we stayed had a Starbucks kiosk and the rooms all had packets of Starbucks coffee. For this, I was grateful. I really really like good coffee. Actually, the cruise we were on in February had a Seattle Best Coffee (SBC in local parlance) on the ship. There was no line and the latte's were terrible, though. On the streets of Charlotte, I noticed a couple of Starbucks as well. I used to go to the original downtown Seattle Starbucks when it was still the only one on earth.
I do believe that the Puget Sound area maintains uniqueness by the shear number of coffee places. I do not see this anywhere but here. As I drove to my church this morning for a meeting, I counted the coffee shops or drive-thru kiosks in ten minutes between my house and my church. TEN--yes--ten places to get a latte. Three of these spots are Starbucks. I did not count the Starbucks under construction nor did I count the Starbucks at one end of Mukilteo Speedway or the Whidbey Island Coffee Company at the other end of the Speedway near the ferry. They all have lines. We are uber-caffeinated. I also realized there is a significant gap between coffee places right where our church is. A drive-thru in our parking lot might just be a good money maker. I can see it all now---"Lattes for the Lord!"
2. Nordstrom. I remember when it was our own local department store along with Frederick & Nelson and the Bon Marche on three different corners in downtown Seattle. Frederick & Nelson was quite upscale but it went out of business. The Bon was taken over by Macy's and Nordstrom has spread everywhere. The malls in Charlotte have a Nordstrom and Macy's as does the Mall of America in Minneapolis.
3. McCormick & Schmick's. I guess the original seafood restaurant was in Portland, Oregon but it spread to Seattle shortly thereafter. We have three or four in the downtown area. Sure enough, M&S is one of the main "uptown" restaurants in Charlotte. We ate there one night mainly because they had great patio seating and we wanted to be outside.
4. Dale Chihuly. This has been a complete surprise to me. I wrote about how the casino at the new expensive hoity toity Atlantis resort in Nassau, Bahamas had one of his glass chandeliers. I really did not realize that he was known throughout the world for his glass art. To me, he is a local Seattle celebrity artist. There I was in uptown Charlotte at a Southern arts and crafts museum when I noticed the gigantic white chandelier in the lobby was none other than---a Chihuly. I could have been standing in the lobby of Benaroya Hall in Seattle. The people I was with were from the East Coast and were big fans of his work. Who knew?
DALE CHIHULY
ROYAL BLUE MINT CHANDELIER, 1998
116.5 x 120 x 96"
MINT MUSEUM OF CRAFT + DESIGN
CHARLOTTE, NORTH CAROLINA
Well, I am home now and drinking my own coffee made from Starbucks beans. I miss the 80 degree weather I experienced last week. As a matter of fact, it snowed here in Mukilteo last night. Yes, it was just a skiff and the sun came out but I still had to wear gloves on my walk today. Spring is here and our state flower, the rhododendren (rhodie in local parlance) is blooming all over the place. I took these photos in my yard just a little while ago.
Backyard
Frontyard
After thinking about my trip to Charlotte, I decided the positives outweighed the negatives. I did get to be with my husband and he told me he was happy he didn't have to suffer the flight cancellations alone. He has traveled so much by himself over the years. Being in Charlotte was pleasant and relaxing and warm. And I am always curious about different cultures. Unfortunately, anyone who travels around our country finds things are becoming homogenous. The malls have the exact same stores and streets are lined with the exact same fast food places.
I love Seattle and its culture but I would like to keep it to ourselves. I want us to be unique. I would like every city to be unique so that when we travel somewhere else, it would all be new and different. We did manage to find restaurants with Southern cooking and local ingredients but there were moments where we could have been in downtown Seattle. For example:
1. Starbucks. The hotel where we stayed had a Starbucks kiosk and the rooms all had packets of Starbucks coffee. For this, I was grateful. I really really like good coffee. Actually, the cruise we were on in February had a Seattle Best Coffee (SBC in local parlance) on the ship. There was no line and the latte's were terrible, though. On the streets of Charlotte, I noticed a couple of Starbucks as well. I used to go to the original downtown Seattle Starbucks when it was still the only one on earth.
I do believe that the Puget Sound area maintains uniqueness by the shear number of coffee places. I do not see this anywhere but here. As I drove to my church this morning for a meeting, I counted the coffee shops or drive-thru kiosks in ten minutes between my house and my church. TEN--yes--ten places to get a latte. Three of these spots are Starbucks. I did not count the Starbucks under construction nor did I count the Starbucks at one end of Mukilteo Speedway or the Whidbey Island Coffee Company at the other end of the Speedway near the ferry. They all have lines. We are uber-caffeinated. I also realized there is a significant gap between coffee places right where our church is. A drive-thru in our parking lot might just be a good money maker. I can see it all now---"Lattes for the Lord!"
2. Nordstrom. I remember when it was our own local department store along with Frederick & Nelson and the Bon Marche on three different corners in downtown Seattle. Frederick & Nelson was quite upscale but it went out of business. The Bon was taken over by Macy's and Nordstrom has spread everywhere. The malls in Charlotte have a Nordstrom and Macy's as does the Mall of America in Minneapolis.
3. McCormick & Schmick's. I guess the original seafood restaurant was in Portland, Oregon but it spread to Seattle shortly thereafter. We have three or four in the downtown area. Sure enough, M&S is one of the main "uptown" restaurants in Charlotte. We ate there one night mainly because they had great patio seating and we wanted to be outside.
4. Dale Chihuly. This has been a complete surprise to me. I wrote about how the casino at the new expensive hoity toity Atlantis resort in Nassau, Bahamas had one of his glass chandeliers. I really did not realize that he was known throughout the world for his glass art. To me, he is a local Seattle celebrity artist. There I was in uptown Charlotte at a Southern arts and crafts museum when I noticed the gigantic white chandelier in the lobby was none other than---a Chihuly. I could have been standing in the lobby of Benaroya Hall in Seattle. The people I was with were from the East Coast and were big fans of his work. Who knew?
DALE CHIHULY
ROYAL BLUE MINT CHANDELIER, 1998
116.5 x 120 x 96"
MINT MUSEUM OF CRAFT + DESIGN
CHARLOTTE, NORTH CAROLINA
Well, I am home now and drinking my own coffee made from Starbucks beans. I miss the 80 degree weather I experienced last week. As a matter of fact, it snowed here in Mukilteo last night. Yes, it was just a skiff and the sun came out but I still had to wear gloves on my walk today. Spring is here and our state flower, the rhododendren (rhodie in local parlance) is blooming all over the place. I took these photos in my yard just a little while ago.
Backyard
Frontyard
// posted by Janet @ 3:11 PM
0 comments
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