Gimme a V!
It seemed like a good idea when I started. I decorated a large papier mache V* to decorate the wall near the front door. When the Vs were on sale at the craft store, I thought it would be just swell to do buy a bunch and decorate them with collages - holiday and seasonal themes. And I could decorate the sides differently to get twice the mileage out of each one.

The St. Patrick's Day/Easter V was fun. The Patriotic/Summer Rustic theme was OK. The Butterflies/TBA was OK. Now we're coming up on Halloween/Thanksgiving. The bag of Vs is becoming more a drag. But the Vs and some other paper crafts -such as the not particularly original idea of making envelopes out of old New Yorker covers - provide something of an excuse for an evening spent in front of the TV. Especially on Thursday. Thursdays are a temptation.

* - Yeah, I know they should be Hs. But we've been filed under V for so long that change is futile. And the V is more pleasing to the eye. (Nice undulating Ss would have been best, but we're a team here, right?)

Michael Scott's Dunder Mifflin Scranton Meredith Palmer Memorial Celebrity Rabies Awareness Pro-Am Fun Run Race for the Cure
So happy that it is Thursday. And so glad to revel in an office in which I am not employed. (My office would be funny...if it were fictitious. On TV. With me watching in my PJ's)

And then there is a new Mad Men. Ah, Thursday. And next week 30 Rock starts. I have a bunch of craft projects to work on to alleviate my guilt at spending so much time in front of the tube.

Something Cool from the Second-Hand Shop
An amazing mechanical hand with realistic wiggling action.
Or should I call it “third-hand?” The jury is out on the amazement since I need to pick up some “C” batteries. (which will probably cost more than the hand) Wiggling or resting, a nice addition to the decor. And we've already gotten our money's worth in "give me a hand" gags.

In Reversal, Student Is Given Extra Exam Time to Pump Breast Milk
Must start reading more critically.
Thought pumping was part of exam. Talk about pressure.

Quelle embarrassment!

You Are 64% Slacker

You are pretty much a slacker. Sure you may have a job or car, but only through luck and charm. So stop slacking! (And stop turning your underwear inside out instead of washing it!)

Are You a Slacker?

It would have been worse, except that I am the Mom who does the laundry.
And who buys a full tank of gas these days anyway...
And so what if I did drop out of college...I dropped back in and finished. But, nooo, did they ask that question? Hmmmph.

With thanks to Dylan, who I could not thank directly because my computer at work has trouble accessing comments. But, hey, I'm getting my work done. I just need to clear the mental palate from time to time.

Like I Said
These are good days if your name is Chuck. And if your name is ED, I'm sorry. So sorry. It wasn't such a bad idea in 1993.

I had no idea...
There's a word for people like us.
Freegans : people who employ alternative strategies for living based on limited participation in the conventional economy and minimal consumption of resources. Freegans embrace community, generosity, social concern, freedom, cooperation, and sharing in opposition to a society based on materialism, moral apathy, competition, conformity, and greed.

Well, sort of. I don't mind that a lot of our furniture has a colorful provenance. (I felt careless and profligate when we actually bought a couch from the Salvation Army. I felt even better when that couch was deteriorating and we found a better couch on the curb in front of a neighbor's house. That couch is worse for the wear and it's time to start scouting around for a replacement...)

Here's where we draw the line. No dumpster food. We aren't that hard up - for food or for a way to stick it to the man.
And no previously worn unergarments.

Which Office Character Are You?
	You are part Michael. Deep down, you are caring and good-natured, but you often express yourself in insensitive ways. Though you always try your hardest to make your talents be seen, you could use a little more self-awareness to avoid being awkward.
	You are part Pam. You are sweet and likable, but your shyness makes it hard for you to express yourself sometimes. Regardless, you are always there for your friends and will usually come out of your shell to help anyone.
Find Your Character @ BrainFall.com

Good Luck Chuck
There was a time when I could not understand how certain movies, the original Out of Towners, for example, made my mother "nervous." Now I know. I can't avoid the ads for Good Luck Chuck. A one minute trailer is more than I can bear. The thought of a feature length film is beyond words.

It is a good year for Chuck. His name in movies. An eponymous TV show. (I can only imagine...ELLEN is close, but I still know that the spoken word is spelled differently.) Charles Schwab advertising. It's still a bad time to be an ED. Because...well, you know.

Know Your A*****e Footprint
Every once in a while Vanity Fair delivers... (I don't subscribe for laughs - actually I'm not sure why I subscribe - but this was worth the whole $12 a year that I pay.)

God apparently responds to lawsuit

There was no contact information on the filing, although St. Michael the Archangel is listed as a witness...

The Autumnal Equinox approaches...I shall wear my watercolor dress one more time before it goes under the bed for a six month hibernation.

Luna is Latin for Carpet
Every child in Chicagoland knows that.

A good thing...
about having a family who checks my blog is that it keeps me very honest. But not too honest. Or too....forthcoming.
A not so good thing...
is that I have found some cool ideas for Christmas gifts but I can't talk about them here. (It would be crass to have links that would say, for instance, "Chuck - don't click on this." wouldn't it?)

I hope none of you kids clicked on that. I certainly wouldn't want to get your hopes up.

Your life or your lupins, my lord!
I was not aware that people do eat lupins. And that people who are allergic to peanuts can also have severe reactions to lupins (a legume) and lupin flour. And this flour can be found in pasta. Scary stuff.

Chuck...on TV
"You know you have an anger problem if Gordon Ramsay tells you to relax."

Why Madam Jumel?
Because Mrs. Aaron Burr just isn't that charming.

"We'd like to find it before it crawls into another community."
The ultimate NIMBY.
How far away is Burr Ridge? And how fast can a snake crawl?

Talk Like a Pirate Day!
We did our talking about two weeks ago.
Channel 9's Morning News had a funny pirate skit. Wish I could remember some of the jokes. It's too bad that they don't have it on their website. I do remember the 'pirate' exiting the stage singing "Baby You Can Drive My Caaargh"

From the Makers of Swass and Swoob...
...Swapular!
Do I keep washing it or get a new one? I was doing some ordering at work and saw a very good price on the nice St. Therese scapulars. Of course, to get the good price I would have to buy a twelve pack.

But seriously folks...I was reading the news on break and saw that of the 7000 distinct languages in the world we are losing them at a rate of one per 14 days. Perhaps new languages are developing. That 7337 or whatever the boys talk about. Text messaging. Or girly talk using precision and economy. E.g. swass.

Don't even ask...
Is a little boredom and routine too much to ask for?

Jesus Called Today
There was a magazine article that I was fond of - something like "My Interruptions Are My Job"- and would reread often. I gave away many copies days during my La Leche League leader days. The essence of it was that a mother's true work is a compilation of all the moments in a day that could easily seen as mere interruptions.

Though the 'baby' is now thirteen there are still a lot of interruptions. And I try to find in all (OK, most) of them the kernel of my vocation. The baffling part is that it is getting more difficult; not easier as I once thought it would be. Today....today is one of those days.

It didn't take long for the day to derail. Good fortune caused me to be up at 6:15, so I had about three hours before things went awry. My remunerative work can be divided into two types of days. Those days that are so banal that I have no real response to, "How was work?" And days when I come home singing "I Wanna Be Sedated." Sedation days are leading - about 3 to 1. No matter how I try to structure my day something will come along to cause a disruption. In case I haven't mentioned it, I'm a part time church secretary. So it's not like I'm performing brain surgery.

A lot of the work I do is such appallingly bland paper-pushing that when I look up at the crucifix on my office wall I sense an enormous disconnect between Christ's sacrifice and my petty duties. I know it is work that must be done. I will accept the relative absurdity and offer up my dismay. The fact that I am not seeking emotional satisfaction in filling out forms and ordering toner doesn't mean that I won't jump upon any chance to entertain myself with a task that contains potential for some artistic satisfaction. Yes, even putting together programs and posters. That feels like fun to me. I just want a little satisfaction.

This morning I had several time sensitive projects to complete. And when I arrived at work the secretary in the front office was out. Again. When she is out I have to cover her desk, most of her duties and try to steal a few moments at my computer to do what I need to do. (There is no reciprocity here - if I die in my sleep, she won't be doing my job tomorrow...) Before I could gather my wits and supplies to move up front, another semi-creative rush job was tossed at me. And there went my plans for coming home on time and with enthusiasm for school work. Perhaps I am meant, today, to focus on detachment from my plans. To offer up myself to my interruptions. For my interruptions. With kindness and equanimity. Challenging myself to stop seething about clueless callers, the concept of paid days off and how it doesn't apply to me, the excruciating line at the Chase drive-up, the (new) rattling sound the Jeep makes.

The interruptions will still be here and there tomorrow. Tomorrow we'll all try again.
Maybe it will be another night when I wish I were sedated.
Or it could be the most banal of days. A day when I would have to make up something in order to add to the dinner table chatter.
"Jesus called today."

Jesus called today.

Just for the record...
it's not hoarding if the objects of desire are books.
Really.
It is library growth, literacy promotion or ...something. But not hoarding. (I mean, really, the authorities are not going to have to send in guys in haz-mat suits to 'de-book' my house in the fashion that they must with animal hoarders. And, unlike the famous cat house that my sister shut down, books don't produce an odor* so devastating that our domicile would need to be demolished.)

Now that we have that straight, I'll give the report from the Friends of the Library Book Sale. We did good. Real good. And under budget. A few gems that I am putting away for Christmas gifts (which I can't discuss here because it involves potential Christmas gifts for some who might be reading this), some good school stuff, some humor, some fiction and other assorted fun. A very good haul. Now to find the shelf space!

Fran and I went back today for the half price sale. Then we met Bridget for lunch and walked around Lake Forest killing time until Martha was done with work. Went into the old Marshall Field's Macy's. I had forgotten just how tiny that store is. It is supposed to close, so that may well be my last visit until the premises have been converted into a restaurant or bank. (We sure could use another bank.) Spritzed on a little Chanel No. 5, so I could smell like my mother for the afternoon. Then we scoped out the new stuff in the toy store. Which I can't discuss here because it involves potential Christmas gifts for some who might be reading this. What a lovely posh, suburban Sunday afternoon.

* - Talk about books that produce an odor... there were so many copies of the da Vinci Code at the sale that I thought they might start giving them away. Or forcing them on people. Or paying people to take them away. Talk about a glut of stinkers.

Who is Ed Emberley?
And why was every book he has written in my Amazon shopping cart? Those and a Panasonic plasma flat screen TV for $1,095? It took a lot of deleting before I could place my very modest order. (OK, I 'saved' the items. Just in case anyone here needs those Ed Emberley drawing books. As for the TV, forget it.

Another day...
I have this tremendous sense of deja vu. I've been here before. Someone screaming, "I don't want to go to school." Fugitive students running up the back stairs, down the front stairs, giving mom the slip in the rooms that had four doors. The principal coming to the house to talk to the young fugitive.

Except today I am the one who doesn't want to go. To work. The house is smaller. No more front stairs and backstairs. And I don't think Father is going to drive over to find out why I won't come out of my room. Nor will Rick put my clothes in a bag and carry me out to the car.

I used to tell the kids who didn't want to go to school that I knew how they felt. Yeah, I really did know. I hadn't been the most enthusiastic participant in the public school system myself. But today the feeling is raw and fresh. I don't want to go.

But go I must. I'll even dress myself.
(Like a bribe dangled by a desperate parent, the prospect of going to the used book sale at West Park on my lunch 'hour' - which by rights I should stretch to several weeks, since I rarely take more than 5 minutes - with a pal is an incentive to move along.)

Friday, September 14, 2007 - This date in history was when the original cornerstone was laid for the Marytown Chapel in 1930. It is also the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.

7:00 PM – Mass will begin in the lower temporary Chapel.
8:00 PM – After Mass, an outdoor Eucharistic Procession will take place from the temporary Chapel to the restored Marytown Chapel. The Chapel doors will be opened to the public for the first time since September 30, 2006. The procession will conclude with the solemn placement of the monstrance on the new altar of sacrifice. Sung Solemn Vespers will welcome our Lord and his people back to our historic Chapel.
Benediction of the Most Blessed Sacrament. The Eucharist will be then enthroned within the Marytown monstrance.
Veneration of a relic of the True Cross
Informal gathering for refreshments and fellowship in Founders Hall

I may have a date...
to see Across the Universe. Of course, it is the same man who consented to take me to Paris, je t'aime, but I don't think he was really paying attention when I asked him about that. I sense a bit of trepidation...like he might be walking into some sort of Cirque du Soleil Beatles on film thing.

Who reads my blog?

A typical discerning reader.

Across the Universe
I'm looking forward to this... It looks good. Risky, but Sgt. Pepper's been done, so what could go wrong, right?

L'Oreal H I P
Makes me wish I wore more make-up. The ads remind me of playing with the paints etc. at my dad's shop.
(Anyone else who wishes I wore more make-up? Well...this isn't really a subtle hint. I don't think I'd wear this stuff outside of the house. But it would be fun to play with...)

Regarding that Sunday day of prayer in Aurora...
We wanted to give a face to what we believe is a huge number of people who are religious and are liberal and who believe a woman has a right to choose her own reproductive rights,... And a most distressing face it is. The spokeswoman on this morning’s news blathered on about “gut wrenching decisions.” As though it is the ‘gut-wrenchingness’ which makes the act OK. So much for the liberal, religious contingent. When a woman is in a 'gut-wrenching' situation she is on "her own." That's generous of them.

Some make a case for a public demand for the Planned Parenthood clinic. To which this is a significant retort: "There is a demand for pornography in Aurora. There is a demand for heroin in Aurora. That doesn't mean the council has to oblige."

Said "doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take?"
Now lemme get this straight...It appears modern pharmacology has developed a non-addictive (putatively) drug that causes everything. I talked to my doctor this morning about a new drug she had me on that I thought was causing my feelings of feverishness and dis-ease. I stopped taking it a few days ago and I feel better but still flushed and uneasy. So I decided to look up another drug I’ve been on for my arthritis because I am trying to stay off the naproxen - which works but may be contraindicated for my blood pressure. This pain reliever (putative) does held my fingers and wrists, though I didn’t find it particularly helpful when I tried it a couple of years ago for my hip. I did remember reading some bad commentary on this substance, so I looked it up tonite just for the heck of it. What follows is an (edited for length) list of possible reactions and side effects from a reputable source. My doctor is on vacation for the rest of the week...we’ll be talking on Monday. And I'm tapering off this crap. (Not stopping suddenly - that just doubles the symptoms, or so the literature says.)

abdominal fullness/abnormal or decreased touch sensation/blisters under the skin/bloating/blood in urine/blood pressure increase/blurred vision/change in walking and balance/chest pain or discomfort/chills/seizures/darkened urine/difficult urination/dizziness/fainting/rapid heartbeat/frequent urge to urinate/gaseous abdominal pain/indigestion/irregular heartbeat/loss of memory/numbness and tingling of face and extremities/numbness, tingling, pain or weakness in hands or feet/pain in arms, legs or feet/
/pain in arms, jaw back or neck/pains in stomach side or abdomen/pale bluish-colored hands or feet/recurrent fever/seeing, hearing or feeling things that are not there/severecramping/severe nausea/redness, swelling and itching/shortness of breath/sweats/trembling hands/trouble performing routine taksks/weak pulse/jaundice/agitation/anxiety/constipation/cough/diarrhea/discouragement/dry mouth/warmth/feeling sad/feeling cold/fever/general feeling of illness/headache/heartburn/irritability/itching/joint pain/loss of appetitie/sore throat/restlessness/drowsiness/runny nose/stuffy nose/tiredness/abnormal dreams/bloody urine/clamminess/bladder pain/back pain/dry, scaly skin/change in hearing/ diminished libido/confusion/loose cough/unusual sense of well-being/flushing/earache/ear drainage/hoarseness/ED/goosebumps/nasal congestion/muscle twitch/incontinence/yawning/unusually large pupils

Or maybe I should take this drug forever. I could blame everything on it. (Though the flushing, clamminess and sore throat are getting me down. But maybe I’m sick. I’m starting to feel sad. Weak. Drowsy. And homeschool has been a flop this week - though the pupils aren’t unusually large!)

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've had
Once it's gone?
The cable is back on. I had forgotten how abyssmal it is.
But there is a certain comfort in knowing that it is there in case I need it.

Now about pre-season football pre-empting most of Mama's Thursday nite stories...

My Brain Hurts!
I was uptown with the girls and decided to go into the Rummage Shop, pretty much to check out the chairs that a friend had told me about. Yes, they were overpriced and ugly. She wasn’t kidding. (In fact I think she was being quite kind. I could think of worse things to say. Especially about the set of 7 rickety looking velvet-seated chairs for $350. Did Lincoln sit in one of them? I can think of provenance as being the only selling point.) But I did find this: The BackSpin Puzzle.

Always on the lookout for 3-D activities for the boys, I jumped at this puzzle. And this was a deal - selling at about 1/10th of its retail price.

I hope the boys enjoy it. I quit short of it being known as “the puzzle that made Mom cry.”

The above link gives purports to ‘help.’ I’m not so sure. It made my brain hurt more. I’ll try again in the morning...


There are 6 identical balls of three of the colours. (6!3)
There are 3 identical balls of five of the colours. (3!5)
There are 2 identical balls of one of the colours. (2)

This leaves 36!/6!3/3!5/2 = 64,084,265,679,291,581,935,411,200,000 or about 6.4·1028 positions.

Riiiight.

It's that Magical Time of Year!
The tent is up. The Friends of the Library Book Sale is just days away...

House of Dark Schaddenfreude
Not since the days of dropping debris on the tracks of my dad's HO trains have I felt such an immature anticipation of a bloodless trainwreck. I would prefer to pretend that I had absolutely no interest in watching the MTV video awards. But...not having been much of a fan of Britney Spears - in fact, loathing her 'nude' dressing white snake undulating Madonna kissing antics - I was rather looking forward to watching her last night. Either way I would be pleased. If she was really spot-on "good," I could enjoy my disgust. And if she were bad ... that would be amusing, too.

Now that the reviews are in, I think I just feel sorry for her. Not that I've seen the performance. Someone (i.e. me) let the cable bill fall seriously behind and Comcast actually shut us off. On Saturday. Fran ran out and paid the bill right away but we are still cableless. Which is probably not too savvy a move on Comcast's part; every minute without the cable it becomes more apparent how much we aren't missing.

But I did so want to see the MTV awards.

An Open Letter to My Family
I have enough material for three more books.
So I must reiterate, quit calling me at work. The next complaint call will be referred to a priest. I don’t have magic powers and I can’t fix things for you from five miles away. Neither can Father, but maybe he could console you. Or explain why you shouldn’t be calling your mama at work.

(PS – I’m still open to Googling trivia etc. It’s not that busy today.)

ooh! ooh!
I think I'm getting a message from Dr. Dictionary.
The word for today is: fungible
Maybe this means I don't have to go into work this afternoon.
Or maybe it means I am going precisely because we are mostly fungible.
Or maybe housekeeping responsibilities are fungible. And I'll just leave the Corn Pops.

I had too much to dream last night
I'm not ready to face the light...
I have a few minutes to sit here waiting for the Ativan to kick in. Much needed pharmaceuticals. I don't know when I've had such a vivid nightmare. A nightmare that felt like it lasted for 12 hours. But I was awakened at 2:00 and 4:00 by barking dogs so I know it probably lasted a few minutes. In those minutes my little 1400 grams of grey matter went through convolutions that distilled everything I've thought about in the last twenty years. Honest.

The precipitators of this were:
A) unwinding from a surreal workday by reading the latest issue of Salvo* .
B) finding out disturbing news about someone I used to know by reading the online Trib.
C) low blood sugar (maybe I should have offered up something besides midnight hunger pangs for person named in 'B'.)
D) watching The Soup and Nancy Grace before bed.

This disturbing mini-series dream about a TV show made in my own neighborhood was brought to a conclusion - and not soon enough - by manic heavy-metal polka music emanating from somewhere in the house. I finally found it, e.g. Bridget's cell phone, and terminated it. She's just lucky I managed to wake up enough to use my fingers and not just stomp on it.

But, anyway, I'm gonna write it down There's a good story there.
As soon as I feel like I'm not dying.

Ooops, I spilled the Corn Pops. Dry Corn Pops. Where are the dogs or do I have to find the Dyson?

Let's get the details down...and then off to the arms of Morpheus for a few hours, if you please.

*PS - The new Salvo is the best yet. I like it. It has a bit of Mad Magazine with a solid moral compass. And some heavy duty content. Just eat a balanced dinner and don't read too close to bed time.

Fine Art Friday

Queen of the Holy Rosary
Mother Margaret Mary Nealis, R.S.C.J. (1876-1957)

You create your own reality, so remember to buy glue.
Presenting ”The Key”.

Anthony Sacramone mercilessly skewers the self-help industry in First Things: On the Square. My secret advice would be: Don’t drink sticky beverages too close to your keyboard while reading.

Attention All Heads
Back to school time! All of you.
Mr. Skull, you get down from there and back up to my room.

Just thinkin'
I'm sitting here applying hydrocortisone creme to what appear to itch mite bites (I was out under the oaks installing the artificial palm trees; I'm sure that is where I contracted this afflication. Or maybe it's hives. Who knows?) while watching the local TV news. Lots of back to school stuff. They are profiling a Chicago grade school, heretofore known as 'non-performing', that has set the goal that all of its students will go to college. In rush of all the first day rah-rah, it sound very nice.
But is it realistic. Economics, cultural expectations, intellects etc. aside, is it realistic - or fair - to expect all students to go to college. Isn't the flaw in this borne out by the fact that many students who go to college do not graduate? So, I'm thinkin'.

Is college becoming the new high school?
Should everyone want to go to college?
Does our society segregate people with the supposition that only the college bound will want or need certain types of education and dismiss all the others as having no intellectual lives or aspirations?

Just thinkin.'

PS - Embot, I'm thinkin', if I knew an entomologist...I'd ask a few questions about those invisible itch mites.
Or if I knew an etymologist I'd ask for a few new words to complain about my itchy ankles.

Taking the “#&*!@ “ Out of Pirate Party!
A super succesful evening. I cannot say enough for the girls party planning skills. Especially Fran - the mastermind of what felt like an ordeal during the planning stages but turned out to be fab.

My sister and family were not able to make it. They missed a great time -
but I still got a repainted bathroom out of the deal.

The weather was perfect and the mosquitos weren’t as nasty as they could have been. The yard looked so fine...and it certainly helps if your kids have a friend whose parents are in the party goods business. There is no way I would have come up with artificial palm trees, shell dishes, fish nets, etc. (The only deluxe detail I offered was my genuine imitation actual size human skull. On the condition that it was kept in a location where no one would tinker with it.) It also helps that this same friend is an accomplished seamstress. She made the girls’ costumes. Lacking a pal to sew me a brocade bustier and black velvet skirt, I wore a striped shirt , eye patch and head scarf. The scarf didn’t last all evening. I don’t like that feeling of having my head constricted. Oh, and the tattoos. I remembered I had some of the high quality Dover tattoos.

Rick had a good music set up with a laptop full of iTunes connected to a sound system. Keeping control of the music is an issue, so the next time we do this we will have a DJ. That will be me. Having a laptop out where anyone can change the music is musical anarchy.

I remember a bar we frequented in college. If anyone made a jukebox selection that was not appreciated by a majority of the clientele, a volunteer would lift and jiggle the jukebox until the next record came up. That was the situation on Saturday nite. If I find myself in this situation again, I’ll spend the evening with the laptop...in my lap.

‘Security’ could have been better. A broad spectrum of people were invited so each family member did not recognize every guest. I think we wound up with some crashers. Fortunately not unaccompanied minors. But unaccompanied strange older people. But it took a while to figure out that there were a few folks that no one knew. A little creepy. Not like the Manson family or anything. Weird, though.

The food was great. Embot and Big Ed worked the grill. Rick (in a puffy pirate shirt that the girls found for him!) was the bartender. Fran planned all the details of the buffet, down to the salsa, pico de gallo and other veggie stuff that was homegrown as well as homemade.

I’ll be trying to upload more pics as I find them. I wanted thorough documentation! And I hope to have a chance to pose Scrappy in one of the big shells (a la Botticelli’s Venus) before they go back to the party warehouse.