Drum

March 31, 2010

Who knew Erin's web page had a theme song?  And who knew you needed to show your midriff to be a righteous drummer?

Cluck

March 26, 2010

You may have heard that things grow bigger in Texas. You want proof? My mom took a birding trip to south Texas for Spring Break. Here's a photo of one of her "Birds of the Day."



"Cluck"--not in the Merriam-Webster sense of the word:

Main Entry: ¹cluck

Pronunciation: \ˈklək\

Function: verb

Etymology: imitative

Date: 15th century

intransitive verb 1 : to make a cluck
2 : to make a clicking sound with the tongue
3 : to express interest or concern ed over the new developments>transitive verb 1 : to call with a cluck
2 : to express with interest or concern

but in the chicken language sense of the word: "I need help" and that is what I need from you. I have a gifted student who has offered to help me (re)design and build a new web page for our lanyard project. You may have noticed that the old one isn't so hot in the sense that things are hard to find and it doesn't use space efficiently. It might get a "fail" on other important dimensions as well.

Please take a minute to answer two questions that will help me begin the redesign process. Either leave a comment or email me at vbuenger@mays.tamu.edu .

1. Why did you visit Erin's Dream Lanyards? (choose as many as apply)

• To make an order
• Curiosity
• To find out how to help
• Followed a link
• Interested in lanyard stories
• To see the workshop schedule
• To download material about lanyards
  
• Other (describe)

2. Was there anything you were hoping would be there, but wasn't?

Of course, if you have any other feedback, I'd love to hear it. Believe me, you couldn't offend me by detailing the ways the website needs fixing (confusing, etc.).

*****************

As long as I'm clucking (in the chicken language sense of the word), I'd like to remind all the locals and those within driving distance that this would be a great weekend for you to do some spring cleaning. AND if you find anything that needs a new home:

Remember that on Saturday, April 24, Erin's school, Jane Long Middle School, is having a garage sale. This is not just any old garage sale, where someone tries to sell their garage or even the junk in their garage.

This sale is the major way the the Jane Long PTO funds the Erin Buenger Scholarship, established in her memory.

We have a place to store those things between now and then and can even pick up your items. Let me know (vbuenger@mays.tamu.edu).

*****************

Holy Flying Mammal! Here's what I found on the ceiling of my office when I got to work this morning:

Muse

March 22, 2010

I wasn't surprised that I broke out with poison ivy towards the end of the week. I had spent some beautiful days in the yard pulling weeds, clearing out the accumulated fallen leaves, and generally looking for excuses to hang out like a contented river otter soaking up the sun. I hadn't seen any poison ivy, but that doesn't mean that it hadn't seen me.

I was, however, surprised that my poison ivy rash looks a lot like the imprint of a curled up Teddy, right in the lappiest part of my lap (easier to explain a dog-shaped patch of poison ivy on the front/inner part of your thighs than some other spots you might have a rash). I have noticed that I can actually function taking one benedryl before bed and one when I get up (not too sleepy, not too itchy, not too grumpy. . . in fact, not really any of the seven dwarfs at all).

The benedryl has had one unwanted side effect. You may remember that the current (and still continuing) book in the mother/daughter book club is The Arabian Nights. I've made it up to the "Tales of Sinbad, the Seaman" (although apparently he is also sometimes Sindbad the Landsman, depending on whether he is home or away). Anyway, I have experienced the same thing reading through each of the seven voyages of Sinbad as I used to experience watching "Leave It to Beaver" or "The Wonder Years." Every episode (every tale), you just want to put your hands over your eyes and say "No, Beav/Kevin/Sindbad! Don't do that! That's big trouble!" Believe me, you don't get very far reading if you cover your eyes, AND if you cover your eyes after you have had a benedryl, just forget progress.

I booted on Sinbad last night to tune into C-SPAN to watch the health insurance reform vote (I know. I know. Where are the Esquire photographers for my "Girl Gone Wild" photo shoot?). Having watched the whip count on various websites for days, I had a good feel for what would happen, but I watched partially as a tribute to Erin. Kim, my friend from New York, wrote me this morning, saying that she was sure Erin was smiling after the vote and had probably made an elaborate table with the pros and the cons of the bill to make sure it all went down the right way.

I figure Erin would have taken it a step further, like she did on election night, and put together her own whip count charts to supplement the published ones. I suspect she would have even done a little whipping of her own (and probably would have squeezed at least one more vote into the yea column). Health care has been a divisive issue for the last many months, but I know my friends in the pediatric cancer world no longer have to worry about reaching their life time maximums or about their parents being locked into untenable jobs because they are virtually uninsurable with that pre-existing condition called neuroblastoma. It doesn't solve the big problem presented by their diagnosis, but this bill promises to ease the stresses in their tough lives a little.

I also thought of Erin and how much she would have approved of President Obama's final pitch to the Democratic caucus on Saturday, when he said:

“Every once in a while a moment comes where you have a chance to vindicate all those best hopes that you had about yourself, about this country, where you have a chance to make good on those promises that you made ... And this is the time to make true on that promise. We are not bound to win, but we are bound to be true. We are not bound to succeed, but we are bound to let whatever light we have shine.”

Paul Krugman, my favorite heartthrob, Nobel-Prize winning economist puts this passage into context in his column "Fear Strikes Out." He writes "on one side, the closing argument was an appeal to our better angels, urging politicians to do what is right, even if it hurts their careers; on the other side, callous cynicism." In the end, he concludes "a vicious, unprincipled fear offensive failed to block reform. This time, fear struck out."

Today, I muse on the many lessons Erin taught me. One (that I needed to review before last week) was to stay away from poison ivy. Another was to put aside fear and work (and play) on and let our light shine.

Fight On

March 15, 2010

The ides.  Of March.  Of course, Caesar had a warning about the grave peril he faced that day.  A whole host of other people I know have had their warnings as well.  They didn't come with a specific date, just a diagnosis:  your child has neuroblastoma.

Erik

Layla Grace
Sam 
Lesly 
Sophie
Sydney Marie 

These kids have died.  Cruelly.  Brutally.  Wrongly.  Some this weekend.  All in the past few weeks.

I never dreamed, in all my life, that I would know so many kids who died.

I'm angry.  When I am angry, I work harder.  I invite you to work with me, whether it is with the Children's Neuroblastoma Cancer Foundation, NB Alliance, Neuroblastoma Foundation, Friends of Will, Max's Ring of Fire, Band of Parents, Erin's Dream Lanyards, or any other neuroblastoma fundraising group that you know of.  Don't get sidetracked.  Don't have a short attention span.  Don't be put off by the pain of children dying.

There are plenty of kids that will benefit from NB research:  Hans, Will, Toby, Dylan, Sam F., Anna and thousands more that I don't know. We just need to get to work and stay on task.  

Reach out and help.

Come to my workshop this Friday afternoon.  

Can't come?  Send beads.  

No time to shop?  Send your old unwanted or broken jewelry (we will re-purpose).

Not into jewely?  Send a contribution.

Broke?  Call, email, leave a comment.  I will figure out a way that you can help.

Fight On!  Just as Erin and all the other kids did. . . until their last breath.

Clean

March 12, 2010

With warmer temps (at least here in Texas) and copious sunshine, some of you may anticipate doing a bit (or a bunch) of spring cleaning over the next few weeks. I know I am. If you find that you have things you would like to dispose of, consider this:

On Saturday, April 24, Erin's school, Jane Long Middle School, is having a garage sale. This is not just any old garage sale, where someone tries to sell their garage or even the junk in their garage. This sale is the major way the the Jane Long PTO funds the Erin Buenger Scholarship, established in her memory.

If you are interested in cleaning out your garage and donating some items to our sale, we have a place to store those things between now and then. Let me know (vbuenger@mays.tamu.edu) .

Since what I know about garage sales can fit on Teddy's toenail, I sought and got advice to help guide your giving:

Things That Sell:

• Baby/toddler clothing in good condition
• Toys
• Furniture in pretty good shape
• Home Electronics (tv, radio, dvd players, etc.)
  
• Art Supplies
• Anything for kids
• Computers and Equipment
• Art Supplies
• DVDs & CDs
• Gardening equipment
• Art & Collectibles
• and more!

No thank you - doesn't sell:

• Bed mattresses, sheets
• Items too "used" or worn
• Magazines, books
• Anything dirty or dusty
• Anything torn or with stains
• Shoes (unless new and unworn)
• Most clothing not for babies/ toddlers
• Upholstered furniture not in great shape

In the meantime, clean has pervaded our lives, from the clean jokes that Walter prefaced his Presidential Address with last Friday evening.

To Walter and my making a convincing clean sweep over UT (t.u.) in the first round of the First Annual TSHA pool tournament in our suite after the Presidential Banquet last Friday night.

To the clean up of the house and yard when we returned from Dallas, so that we could host a meet and greet between local Young Democrats and Congressman Chet Edwards last Sunday evening.

Now, while I'm on a roll, I'd better get cleaning.

Flashback

March 9, 2010

I conceived this entry as a tribute to my old practice of noting things that made me say hmm (You can click on the labels at the left or right here to see other things that made me say hmm).  

Yesterday, something scrolled across my news feeder and really did make me say hmm out loud.  For those of you reading quickly and avoiding data when possible, this is a graph of water consumption in Edmonton for two days during the winter Olympics.  The green line is a week ago Friday.  The blue line is the next day, the Saturday of the Olympic gold medal hockey game.  The X-axis is time of day.  The Y-axis is water consumption.  What do you conclude from this data?

 

Another thing that made me say hmm was spotting a man dressed in black striding down the easement next to Finfeather the other day.  I use the verb stride purposefully, because his gait brought to mind Viggo Mortensen (who played Aragon, aka Strider, in The Lord of the Rings).  Black hat with brim, black scraggly beard, black long-sleeved shirt with black vest, black boots, and a flowing black skirt that rippled in the breeze.   Hmm. 

But the main thing that made me say hmm and have a flashback simultaneously was a visit to The Sons of Herman lodge week before last.  I was standing in for Congressman Chet Edwards again at a candidates forum.  I hadn't been to the Sons of Herman Lodge in twenty-eight and a half years.  Last time I was there, I was attending my dorm's winter formal, with a young man to whom I was engaged, but never married.  When I walked in the room a couple of weeks ago, it was like no time had passed.  The chairs--molded plastic, goldenrod, lime, and tangerine--were grimier, but otherwise exactly the same.  The tables, situated around the hall, stood arranged exactly the way they had been set in 1981.  Except for the missing disco ball and that I was wearing a sports coat rather than a mauve evening gown, I could have time traveled.  It definitely made me say hmm.

Uninvite

March 4, 2010

For the second time in a row, I have a conflict on an Odd Friday (tomorrow), so that I can't host my usual Lanyard Workshop (thus the post title).  I miss all of you and look forward (with extreme prejudice) to seeing you on the 19th of March, for what I hope will be a mondo-big session.  My lanyard board is down to about a dozen in stock, and I can hardly wait to replenish (If any of you bead for me at home, I could use some shiny, spring color lanyards to fill an order that just came in!).

Speaking of replenishing, if you happen to drop in to a bead shop, or Michael's, or Hobby Lobby, or WalMart, or Joann's in the next week or so, please tuck a string of beads into your shopping basket.  The out of town workshops that we did in February have really depleted our stock, especially of accent beads and larger seed beads.  If we all help out a little, we gain a bigger variety and it doesn't cost any one person too much.

Why have I abandoned you, just when you had lanyard-making lust?  My first lady duties call.  As unpleasant as it may look to stay in the Presidential Suite (pictured below is one of the rooms of our five room suite), I feel responsible to support Walter in the last days of his Presidency of the Texas State Historical Association.  

This means that I have to attend a series of receptions, cocktail parties, and other events with rich food and charming company, but I am willing to do the hard work of being the President's wife.  Walter even voluntarily offered to wear his conference ID on one of the Erin's Dream Lanyards that I brought along, which is pretty awesome, because in addition to the ID card with this name and affiliation, his badge has more colored ribbons (indicating various honors and roles) than a Russian general.  Talking about a magnet for extra attention!  Maybe someone will take his picture and I can show you.

Taste

March 1, 2010

Willie wanted some entertainment, and our new neighbors seemed happy to provide it. Who are our new neighbors? A pair of peace-loving emus. They browse the local ranch just across the fence behind our dam, scrounging for whatever plants and insects are in season. I don't think they eat dogs, but I'm not sure. While the video I have embedded is not actual footage of our actual neighbors, it does seem to capture their mild-mannered attitude towards the world.

(NOTE: I removed the embedded video because it just caused too many problems. Make sure you click on the link below for maximum laughs.)

EMU VIDEO LINK

Willie noticed their carefree, bon vivant posture and knew in his heart that they would want him to join the filming of their episode of "Dancing with the Emus." So he did.

First, they danced stage left to stage right (as illustrated by Sunday's B.C. comic strip):


Then they danced stage right to stage left:

I never really thought that a bird could run as fast as Willie. But apparently, at least one can. I think the whole episode left both Willie and Mr. Emu wondering. . .

"Do you think dog/emu tastes like chicken?"

Strange (Not Odd) Lanyard Workshop

February 24, 2010

I just got a message from our friend and supporter, Robby Bennett, who says he needs lanyards for his sold out Magic Show Where's the Rabbit? at the Bayou Theatre on Saturday, March 6. He will have a display in the lobby of the theatre before and between shows. That means we need to gather at my house this Friday (even though it is an Even and not an Odd day, which makes it Strange). Let me know with a comment or an email if you can be there.

Let's get together and do some beautiful and magical work!

View

February 23, 2010

This is the view from Erin's window. We hung that red bird feeder in July 2002, after Erin's first round of chemo: cisplatin and cyclophosphomide. She didn't feel like doing much in the aftermath of the pounding she took from that round, so we bought her the feeder and hung it so she could see it from her bed. Our friends Lisa and Lois kept us in birdseed. More than two dozen cardinals found it this afternoon during the very unexpected snow fall that hit south central Texas.

Consider

February 18, 2010

First, a reminder. No Odd Friday Lanyarding at my house tomorrow. I am hosting the first annual Iron Chef competition for the soccer team tomorrow night, plus we have the big NCL Bead-a-Thon in The Woodlands on Saturday.

Spoiler alert: if you tuned in for humor, dog stories, or stapler quizzes, you will be disappointed. If you are willing to consider points of view that you may or may not agree with, you will not be disappointed.

Davis once pointed out the beauty of information graphics, visual aids to make information more accessible and understandable. Here is one, released yesterday, that struck home with me:




Walter encouraged me to show you this so that you would understand why we support Chet Edwards' vote on the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act and his re-election to Congress. The video that follows shows Chet with the owner of Frazier and Frazier Industries, Inc., in Limestone County (up the road from here), the only company in Texas to get a stimulus loan. Without the loan the company would have closed its doors, leaving 300 people out of work. Coolidge, Texas, home to this company, has a total population of fewer than 900 people.

Invent

February 17, 2010

I have wanted to write about an experience I have had a couple of times lately. I have attended some political candidate forums in small communities in the area. At each, candidates that range the gamut from county constable wannabes to heavy-hitting Congressional hopefuls crowd into community buildings to eat hot dogs, bid in cake auctions, hear about local history, AND speak briefly and answer question about why voters should consider them the perfect candidate for the office they are running for.

I have met a wide variety of knowledgeable and civic-minded people at these forums (fora?) who really want to figure out what candidates stand for (how else can a voter discern between the ten--this is not a number picked for exaggeration purposes. . .there really are ten actual people--folks running for Precinct 4 Justice of the Peace). On the other hand, not everyone I have met or observed has an equal grasp of the issues (or, perhaps more telling, an equal grasp of reality).

Herein lies my dilemma. On the one hand, some of the things I have heard, both from candidates and from audience members, are ripe for skewering on this page. I can easily imagine poking fun at some of the convoluted logic and less-than-informed opinions. On the other hand, I have attended these meeting as a representative of my friend and Congressman and do not want anyone to confuse my arch and snarky point-of-view with his generous and fair one.

But I have had an idea. What if I could invent a sarcasm font? I can think of at least two versions--one would be known worldwide and could be used just like those omnipresent emoticons to clue readers into impending sarcasm (my friend Lisa suggested that the well-known sarcasm font could have little curlicues dangling from each letter to indicate that each was dripping with disdain). The other would be useful in my current situation. I could write something using my secret sarcasm font, and my friends and those in the know could see the font, recognize my sarcastic intentions, and laugh accordingly, while the general reader could just interpret my words as meant sincerely. Imagine the possibilities.

Robbed

February 12, 2010

So on the stapler question, here's how things unfolded:

As soon as I made the bet, we began to poll the class. Two students pulled out staplers almost immediately, and I thought to myself, "Cake."

Then, the stapler search stalled.

As students dribbled in, the class got into the search, but one by one the late-comers became stapler deniers. Finally, one student said, "We should just stop asking, we know that E___ will have a stapler. Her class before this is on main campus, but when she gets here, that will clinch it." Everyone agreed. E___ would have a stapler, and I would win the bet.

Except, I had insider information. I knew, from an earlier email exchange, that E____ was in Pennsylvania and wouldn't be bringing her stapler to class that day.

I lost. I was robbed.

Staple and Wager

February 10, 2010

How about a complete nonsense post?

My honors students (whom I adore) had a homework assignment due yesterday. As I walked in, one of them was poking around my podium, looking for a stapler so she could have her homework squared away before I called for it. To my surprise, EUREKA, she found one, but then ALAS AND DESPAIR, it jammed and wouldn't join her pages together.

I said, "Don't worry, someone in the class will have a stapler in their backpack," thinking to myself that it wouldn't have been me as a student. I would have considered it a triumph to arrive, on time, with the assignment--maybe with a staple, maybe not--but I would have never carried a stapler with me for stapling emergencies.

I went on to qualify my statement, telling the staple-less student that I was so sure of what I had said that I would wager with her that not one but three out of the 22 students enrolled in the class would have staplers with them that day. Before I tell you who won the bet, what do you think?

Would fifteen percent of an honors class (remember, though, that they are also graduating) be so prepared that they would carry a simple machine to join paper around with them in their backpacks or briefcases?

(Don't) Worry

February 8, 2010

I received a lot of comments, emails, and personal hugs about my last post.  However, I don't want to worry any of you about the possibility of me falling into a dark abyss.  I posted "Miss" mainly because that's just a glimpse of the way it is in the world where Walter, my mom, and I live.  We live like most of our friends, caught up in the moments of to do lists, getting dinner on the table, writing the next memo, and grading that stack of essays or attending one more meeting.  We never know when we will have an Erin Moment, and that's okay too, because that is our reality.  We experience it: somtimes appreciating it; sometimes having a hole seared where we keep our heart; and sometimes having to deal with that too-large-to-swallow lump that forms in our throats.  We hit the pause button until we can re-group, then we pick up where we left off.  Use the verb understand or sympathize.  But not worry.

Here are the girls who are my number one soccer players (DTAg 97) this year (photo credit to Terri G. who had really bad conditions to work with and still managed to get everyone looking good!)!

Miss

February 3, 2010

I have coached Sharks,

Knights,

Red Hot Chili Peppers,


Mystic,

and now the DTAgs (some of whom have now passed me in height), and Erin was on the field with all the iterations except the last. Some of you wonder why I still go out to the pitch with the girls, since Erin can no longer join in.

It usually isn't too hard. I love soccer. I love the players. It keeps me young and fit(ter) to stay involved. I miss Erin terribly, of course. I estimate that I actively think about her about 50% of my waking hours that I'm not actively involved in something else. I carry her around with me, and at soccer practice and games, I'm not usually bothered that transcendent Erin has taken the place of running, tackling, and striking Erin.




Last night, however, was an exception. Our soccer team is doing some non-soccer team building and since the fields were unplayable, we took the opportunity to do a little preparation for our upcoming Iron Chef competition. It struck me how Erin would have absolutely adored the idea of competitive cooking: design the menu, find the recipes, shop for the ingredients, whip up the meal, and serve it (all with your friends), so that you could WIN a competition.

I followed the girls on my team around Kroger. They checked prices and weighed the merits of buying a bag of lemons versus a specific number of lemons. I answered questions like

"Why can't we just buy one celery stalk if that's all we need?"
"What's a dressed snapper and why can't we just buy a naked one?" and
"These spices are expensive. Do we really need them to cook?"

The whole experience almost took my breath away. I could feel my nostrils start to burn like I had tweezed out some nose hairs (a sure sign I'm thinking strong thoughts about Erin). I wished yearned for her hand to grab mine and pull me along down the spice aisle. I let my mind wander to the what ifs of an avoided cancer diagnosis. Eventually, I recomposed myself and tried to remember what cream of coconut was and where the Kroger stocker would have hidden it.

Demonstrate

February 1, 2010

If you read the post title and thought you could tune into either a history lesson on 50th anniversary of the Greensboro sit-in or hear me recount my own personal history of demonstrating, sorry to disappoint.

At the beginning of last month, I gave you a hint about how you could use a joint chocolate experience to show the one you love that they mattered to you. The point was to deliberately set time aside each day to share something good (as if there actually needed to be a stated reason to indulge in chocolate after dinner every night).

Today, I want to remind you of another activity you might pursue. Recall that I am a member of a mother-daughter book club. In fact, if you want to you can recall that I am 50% of the membership of my mother-daughter reading club. Over the last several years my mom and I have read the following books:

Gulliver's Travels--Jonathan Swift

Walden--Henry David Thoreau

The Grapes of Wrath--John Steinbeck

My Antonio--Willa Cather

I, Claudius--Robert Graves

Middlemarch--George Eliot

Mrs. Dalloway--Virginia Woolf

Heart of Darkness--Joseph Conrad

The Scarlet Letter--Nathaniel Hawthorne

Brave New World--Aldous Huxley

Fahrenheit 451--Ray Bradbury

Pride and Prejudice--Jane Austen

Don Quixote--Miguel de Cervantes

Anna Karenina--Leo Tolstoy

1984--George Orwell

A Passage to India--E.M. Forster

And we made a stab at but didn't finish Ovid's Metamorphosis, The Koran, and Proust's gargantuan three-volume set Remembrance of Things Past. We are currently about a third of the way through The Arabian Nights.

Here's the punch line.

Demonstrate you care about someone by deliberately setting aside time to do something shared. It doesn't have to be your mother or your daughter. Focus on your spouse, your dad, your son, your friend, you cousin. Form a neice-aunt book club or a next door neighbor book club.

And really, it doesn't have to be books. Have a film club or chose operas to listen to (Italian, German, or Rock) or cook or camp together. My mom and her friend Phyllis took turns working on piano pieces to play for each other, thus checking the boxes by "self improvement" and "time with friends" and "expand your horizons." As busy as they are, Davis and Evi have their own book club. They have been reading For Whom the Bell Tolls for a pretty long while. Speed isn't what's important in this activity. The main thing is to spend some time talking about what you want to do together, to take turns choosing, and to find a time to process the experience.

And here's what you can do with me: share your ideas about your own very small club. Let me know what you do with someone who is important to you. I'm really interested.

Bewilder

January 27, 2010

I use a Google app called Reader that tells me when the blogs I keep up with have updates. The set of webpages I watch include my NB friends with blogs, bloggers who I know follow Let's Do It!, a small bundle of health care sites, plus five thirty-eight (for math/politics), Paul Krugman (for economics), and Schott's Vocab (for interesting words), and a few others for their general verve and wit.

This, in theory, keeps me from constantly clicking through a list of links, hoping for an update. It also has another feature that I had not taken advantage of until recently: recommendations. If you click on the recommendations link, it shows you entries from blogs you might like based on what you already read. Since I think my blog roll represents a fairly eclectic mix of topics and styles, I doubted it would be able to pin down things I would like.

Eventually, curiosity got the best of me and I took a peek at my recommendations. As I scrolled down through the various entries, the first thing I noticed was that four or five of them came from Let's Do It! which tickled my funny bone, because some computer had used an algorithm to suggest that I might appreciate/enjoy the website that I wrote. I have to admit several of the other entries were pretty interesting or funny.

It wasn't until I got to about the tenth suggestion that I really got curious about how the computer (the programmer?) would know that I would like what I saw. It certainly wouldn't appeal to everyone (or really almost anyone) I know. It was a photo of two picketers. The picketer on the far right dressed conservatively in a skirt that went all the way to the sidewalk. She was protesting some social issue or another. I can't even really remember, though I do recall that it was something that some people take extremely seriously. The sign she carried claimed whatever it was a SIN. The picketer on the left of the photo held a sign that said "Corduroy skirts are a SIN."

To you, the mystery might be why I laughed out loud when I saw that image. To me, the mystery arises from not knowing how someone I have never met could design an app that would identify that photo would appeal to my bizarro sense of humor.

Here are links to the three blogs that at the top of "recommended" blogs today:

You Dropped Food on the Floor. Should You Eat It?

Democracy

Color Identifying System for the Color Blind

Triumph

January 24, 2010

I find myself looking for a way to get a transfusion of Erin Energy this afternoon.  

Of course, the semester started last week.  Funny how out-of-teaching-shape I can become with just a few weeks absence from the classroom.  That meant I was already running a little low on the energy-o-meter heading into the weekend.  Doing a lanyard workshop with seventh and eight grade Student Council members at College Station Middle School on Friday afternoon was enough to charge me up a bit.  Those young folks were quick studies and made some absolutely fantastic lanyards.  When I finish them all (maybe this evening?), we're going to try to figure out a way to display them at their school so that their teachers can check out their work and professionalize their own look by hanging their IDs from a jeweled lanyard instead of a nylon string.  

As soon as I packed the lanyard gear away and made it home, I did the presto chang-o from workshop instructor into festive occasion attender.  Walter and I had the pleasure of attending the Brazos Valley African American Museum banquet, where we had a fabulous time with our friends Al and Mary Broussard and their daughter Valeri, and where, I might add, it was impossible for me to dress too boldly or with too much style (though I gave it my best shot).   I felt like I was at a Glamour photo shoot when I looked around the room (and there were hundreds of people there!).

Yesterday Spencer and I (and Sarah, Laura, and Mary Ann) took the Jane Long Chess Club to their first tournament.  I know that few reading this would savor the experience of spending thirteen hours in close contact with eleven 6th, 7th, and 8th grade boys, especially on the car trip home where they played the game "Who Likes The Way This Smells?"  (NOTE BENE:  please feel free to imagine what buffalo jerky burps, six pairs of feet unfettered from their sneakers after twelve hours, and farts fueled by Sour Punch Twists, birthday cupcakes, Whoppers, and pizza smell like when trapped in a van for more than an hour.)  I, however, had a great day.  The guys worked really hard and kept their concentration up through all five rounds, and we made it home with way more than our share of trophies, including the second place team trophy.  

This morning Walter, my mom, and I had the privilege of attending church at A&M United Methodist Church in College Station (though I have to say that neither Walter nor I could bear to miss teaching our Sunday school class, so we double dipped this morning).  Our dear friends and fellow pediatric cancer parents Jacob and Samantha Wlison (mom and dad to the wonderful Ryan) had lifted Erin up as a possibility of being the honoree in an anthem their church was having commissioned.  That piece, composed by Dan Forrest, lyrics written by Johanna Anderson, and conducted by Craig Courtney, premiered this morning to a packed house.  I can't express how we felt during the service.  Everyone was so welcoming and supportive, and the idea that Erin's life can now be accessed by so many more people through music is overwhelming.

You can imagine, now, how much I would really appreciate a little of that super-charged Erin juice in my veins, so that I can prepare for the next week.  I have another heavily-scheduled week ahead, including the much anticipated return of Odd Friday lanyarding at my house, beginning at 4:00 (or after work) this Friday.

Partner

January 22, 2010

Erin's Dream Lanyards welcomes a new partner, Jennifer Fountain and The Bead Fountain. With Jennifer's generous support we now have a good source for hardware and some of the specialty items we need to make beautiful lanyards, including perfect gold ribbon (for pediatric cancer) charms.


Tomorrow (Saturday, January 23rd) Jennifer is hosting a bead show AND ANOTHER BEAD DRIVE for Erin's Dream Lanyards. If beading is your thing, stop by her shop at 1804-D Brothers Boulevard in College Station to check out what she is featuring. While you are there, buy an extra string of beads and drop it in the Erin's Dream Lanyards basket. Let's fill the basket!

But wait, there's more. We have also added two other partners: The Fire and Rain Artisans Gallery in Killingsworth, Connecticut. 

and the Inspire Community Fine Art Center in San Antonio, Texas. 

You can now discover the art and whimsy of Erin's Dream Lanyards on display and available in these galleries.