Bead!

February 6, 2011

If you are keeping track, this Friday is an Odd Friday and that means Party!  I am pretty sure that we are expecting more cold weather midweek (that's Texas cold, not Minnesota cold), but if you wear gloves, sit on your hands, or keep them tucked in your armpits on Wednesday and Thursday, then they will probably be okay to hold wire and pick up tiny beads by Friday afternoon.  I will look for you after school or after work, and I promise we will have excellent snacks!

If you can only be here in spirit, we will miss you, but not hold it against you.  One option for non-attenders is to stop by the new Semi-catalogue page at Erin's Dream Lanyards and let me know what you think.  I still have several more lanyard lines to write up and post, but this is a start.  We are about to get a lot of exposure through four pretty large sales opportunities in the next six weeks, and I am trying to get ready--both on inventory and support.

 

Take Care

January 30, 2011


Art Linkletter, who died last year at 97, parlayed a career in radio and early television into something remarkable by focusing on children and their take on the world.


I have a five-year-old friend.  She and her mom had passed some winter germs back and forth, and yesterday was the mother's day to feel poorly.  The little girl had told her dad about her mom's illness on the phone and as they said goodbye, he told her to take care of her mommy and maybe get her some breakfast.


My friend scavenged the kitchen, found a plate, and pulled some items out to make her mom a tidy breakfast.  She carried the plate into her mom's bedroom:  

Poptarts, a banana, and a Bud Light.  That covers the basic food groups for a quick recovery, don't you think?

Welcome

January 28, 2011


I have a new "Something Distinctive" about myself.  Walter gave me the gloves I wear (cashmere lined, no less) as my Valentine's gift the February before we got married. 

I suppose numerous people my age have gloves significantly older than their children.  Mine (my gloves, not my kids) will celebrate their 27th birthday in a couple of weeks.  But that's not what sets my gloves apart.


Last Thursday, my soccer team had its first practice of the season on a frozen night with high winds.  I, the cold weather weenie, bundled up--three layers on bottom, four on top--and chose to wear my heavier gloves and carry my special Valentine gloves in my stadium coat pocket (which is the reverse of what I usually do). 


Somehow I managed to arrive home with only three gloves.  I called my team's trainer to see if he had picked up my special, ancient token of Walter's regard.  Nope.  He actually went out to the fields the next day to look around for it.  Nope, again.


Five days passed.  I had to coach over the weekend in my less than satisfactory, bulky, unlucky gloves (which might explain our 0-3 performance).  I had resigned myself to hoping that Walter would still love me enough to get me new gloves this Valentine's Day.  I pulled up in the pitted, caliche parking lot, gathered my gear and looked down before I began the long trudge to our practice site.  And there on the ground, blending in with the stones and dust of the parking surface, obviously run over a few times, was my beloved glove.


Has anyone ever lost a glove and actually found it five days later, in the dark?


And as long as I am asking interesting questions, how did I come by such interesting and idiosyncratic friends?  And I'm sure the comments you have left (here and on Facebook) have not even touch the surface of what is out there.


So pardon me a few minutes to respond and comment on my commenters:


Joan--Yes, I still play trombone, but I am looking for a new ensemble as my old one broke up.  And, I'm not going to let you off the hook.  We are all waiting to hear something distinctive about you.


Debi--Thank you for your compliments and for jumping in for the first time.  We loved Pittsburgh when we visited Davis there and I can think of no amusement park that is more accessible or a better bargain than Kennywood.


And for those of you who are not my Facebook friends, I wanted to share these two distinctive readers:


Tanya--who has "been to Hawaii without ever having seen a thing there (my mom was pregnant with me the last time she and dad went!)...I broke my hand 200 feet above ground, riding on a zipline in Costa Rica...I can make my own walleye fishing lures...I loved Erin like crazy, even though I never met her in person."--how did you finish your zipline ride with a broken hand?


Alice--who I knew was amazing, but who may have the most distinctive comment:  "I can take a newly shorn fleece and wash it, comb, card, and dye it, spin the wool into yarn and weave or knit the yarn into something beautiful...BUT I cannot shear the sheep. I can also do the samething with cotton... no sheep involved in this one."


And for those of you who don't check through on the Comments here:


Erin--I only eat yellow box Cream of Wheat (never the red).  By the way, asking a question, even a a good question does not excuse you from writing something distinctive about yourself.


brooke--(Only for you would I deliberately leave a letter un-capitalied)  "i tried out for the olympics in whitewater slalom kayaking in 1992.  i've lived in 5 states and 4 towns, one major city and 3 minor cities. 2 of the towns and 1 of the minor cities were college towns or "college minor city".  i am an academic kid. (my parents were academics, their friends were academics, their partners were academics, etc..). i don't think there was a key adult in my life who didn't have a phd or who wasn't getting one.  i am 4'8" tall.  i can knit without looking.  i've been blogging since election day of 2000.  i am a life long democrat. yes, i even campaigned for mondale & ferarro when i was 11. doesn't mean i'm a big fan of the party these days though :("

Olivia--who recently lost one of her dearest friends also took the time to leave a comment "I lived in Belfast, Northern Ireland for a year. Belfast is my favorite city.  I think wearing Dora band aids is much better than the standard of band aid and I am convinced using them makes your injuries heal more quickly.  I am 27. Most people I meet think I am 10 years younger...at least.  I adore sarcasm.  I read history books for fun.  I am left-handed.  I looooove cleaning!"


Okay, just like that television network says, "Characters Welcome!"


And for your viewing pleasure, and to see what a fatty Uma (with the "unfillable corgi tummy"--description credited to Mara, who would know) once was.

And yes, that is Erin holding the camera and laughing.

Stand Out

January 26, 2011

So here I sit, one week after Walter's birthday, having not even mentioned it.  We celebrated quietly, but effectively, and will probably go on celebrating for several more weeks.  We have managed to get the year and the semester started, and no doubt it will all be a mad rush to Christmas and New Years, but we will gladly take you along for the ride for another year in the life of the Buengers.

Every semester I gather some information from my students on the first day of class.  Some of it is pretty prosaic (what telephone number can I use if I really need to contact you?).  Other information helps me gear my courses more specifically to their interests.  I also ask some questions just to take the temperature of the class and to get to know them a bit better.  I have done this for years, and the answers give me both a generalized view of the students and also an angle on their peculiarities.

One question I always ask is for them to tell me "Something Distinctive" about themselves.  Here is this semester's answers (one student per distinctive thing), with the more entertaining ones highlighted:

I don’t eat anything green.  ANYTHING.

Identical twin brother

High school in Rhode Island

I only have 24 teeth

Love to sail

Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia

Sing and play keyboard

Love salt water fishing

Switched majors twice

Creative

RE License

I have a scar from a pencil sharpener accident

Heart surgery. Plus waterfall repelling

Hate math, love statistics

Violinist

9^th generation named Virginia in my family

Can sing Disney songs in Spanish

From New Jersey

Africana Studies/Philosophy

Youngest of 7 kids

1^st generation born in US

365 Project

Extremely messy yet organized

Can make a pretty awesome chocolate cake

I can clap my 100% flat feet like hands

Born in Mexico

Triathlete

Lived in Africa

From an emerging country

Grew up on a farm

Always look at the pros and cons before deciding anything

French

Single dad

Love cricket

Love ribeye steak

Play water polo

Huge fan of Family Guy and American Dad

Play in a band in Houston

Fence

Bad cook

Remembers silly things and forgets important things

Good cook/green thumb

11 siblings

I value practicality and hate tradition

Never broken a bone

I have both dimples and freckles (NOTE:  I didn't realize this was rare, but apparently it is)

I am reclusive

I play lacrosse and trumpet

I can crack the knuckles of my toes without touching them with my hand

I smile a lot and wear purple

Likes to learn many topics

Obsessed with productivity and time management

Proud Armenian

I have studied in France, New York, and Beijing

Every man in my family is named James

I go to Hawaii at least once a year

I have a twin sister

I speak Chinese, English, and Japanese

I can remember lyrics to Thai songs

Perfectionist

Deployed to Iraq

Studied abroad

Eagle Scout

Aren't they diverse?  I tell them some distinctive things about myself:

I play trombone.

I will not watch online videos that are supposed to be funny because someone accidentally gets hurt.  EVER. 

I am completely in the dark about reality television.

I like Cream of Wheat (not instant) much better than oatmeal. 

I can consistently fall asleep within two minutes of lying down.

There are many more things that I could mention, but I won't reveal any more until I hear how you stand out. 

Diet

January 21, 2011

What would you do with 51 cans of Del Monte French Style No Salt Added green beans?

We feed them to Uma.

You can see Uma under Walter's right arm in this (pre-Teddy) family photo:

From WELCOME TO ERIN'S HOME

Don't you think it's a shame for a dog to have so many chins? (I'm going to add a video here if I can find it that demonstrate her true proportions, so you may want to check back later.)

Walter's friend Bob Calvert's widow gave us Uma (aptly? named for Uma Thurman) after Bob died a decade ago.  Uma has always been a model of anxiety and insecurity and for as long as she has lived with us has eaten as a way to calm her inner demons.  Her palate warms to savory and unsavory items dropped on the kitchen floor, bird seed spilled out from the feeder, and anything rotten discovered on her long side trips to the compost pile.  We got to the end of the rope with her over Thanksgiving when she dug up the daffodil bulbs we had just planted, on the theory that they were tasty, rather than toxic, morsels (see line 1 of this handy chart).


Since then, we have added a can of green beans to her daily diet.  Each can adds a mere 70 calories to her intake, but takes up a good portion of her stomach and seems to take the edge off of her almost unquenchable hunger.  She seems calmer and perhaps more svelte.  And as best we can tell it produces no unseemly side effects.

Dream

January 17, 2011


If it is January 17, it must be time for your annual reminder of the words of Martin Luther King, Jr.  I did't have to do this regularly until a couple of years ago, when the local paper stopped running the text of the speech in the paper.


Here, for example, is one of my favoritely titled posts of all time:  Don't Lean In.  I didn't have to focus on MLK that day because we had handled it in-house.  It was only in 2009, when the paper let me down, that I had to take matters in my own hand.

http://erinbuenger.blogspot.com/2009/01/still-waiting.html

And again, last year:

http://erinbuenger.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html


This being Aggieland, I have now created a tradition by doing something twice in a row.  So here is your 2011 MLK "I Have a Dream" speech.  This time the complete version.  Try to watch it without tearing up.  I can't.

Change

January 14, 2011

I began the day wondering if I was still a virgin. I looked it up on the internet, and I am. 

Walter on the other hand, needs to come out of the closet.  After living under DADT for his entire life, pretending to be something he was not, I discovered today that he was a Sagittarius, not a Capricorn.  I needed to learn what I had gotten myself  into now that Walter's true and essential self had been revealed after all these decades.  I found a description of Sagittarius here.  (Sagittarius is a centaur, definitely not the randy, old goat that he always led me to believe he was.  And how did he trick me for more than a quarter of a century so that I didn't notice he was half man and half horse.  I mean, really?  I couldn't tell the difference between a goat and half a horse?) 

How could I have missed that he was really "blindly optimistic," "careless," "irresponsible," and "jovial?"  You think you know someone, then bang, the astrological calender changes and you find yourself wondering, really wondering.

My mother (and Erin) have become Tauruses (Taurusii?).

Davis is now a bland Pisces.


I can only take comfort that some things remain constant, and yes, I persist as the perpetual virgin.  My only question is how my sister, Katherine, became a virgin after all this time.  

Drudge

January 13, 2011

With only two of five runways open at Logan and scenes like this, I can say with enthusiasm that I'm glad we flew to Boston last Thursday rather than today (Funny how this photo just blends right in the Let's Do It! wallpaper).

In fact, practically everywhere in the country (except here and also where the Tjoelkers are vacationing) has snow.

 

I guess it doesn't really matter what the weather is like, given how I have had to spend my days since we returned from Boston:  doing the mind-numbing work of migrating all my teaching and personal files to a new server (before class starts next week).  I wish it were as simple as drag and drop or copy and paste.  It actually requires that I rename each file and link individually.

The only thing that has cheered me much is how well Erin's Dream Lanyards has been doing.  We had a very robust holiday season and are preparing to set up tables/booths at four events next month.  We have scheduled a workshop for MLK Day afternoon to build up our stocks.  Come if you can.  I will be the person with the hunched over posture and fingers that looked permanently curled to a keyboard.

M-I-C-K-I-E

January 9, 2010

Walter's Aunt Martha and Uncle Herman did not start out as native English speakers (German on the one hand, Polish on the other), but they caught on well and I never had any trouble understanding anything either one of them said.  I remember the first time they drove over the couple of hours from Taylor to meet the infant Davis.  They had never had children, but had proudly claimed all of their nieces and nephews (and their offspring) over the years. 

Aunt Martha handled Davis like a pro, enveloping the bundle he was, and cooing into his sleeping face.  Uncle Herman then took his turn. . . not quite as expertly, I recall.  He held Davis in the crook of his elbow, but somehow, Davis's head ended up lower than his feet and in the ensuing moments started fretting a little.

Uncle Herman stared down at him, wondering whether his turn had lasted long enough to satisfy the dictates of politeness or whether he was stuck with a baby that was about to go off like a bomb.  Aunt Martha nudged him firmly with her elbow, and as it dug into Herman's side, she hissed "Jiggle him, Herman, jiggle him."  And jiggle him, indeed.  Herman started bouncing Davis in his arms and surprised Davis into silence and perhaps a return to slumber. 

That wasn't enough for Martha, however.  She was convinced that Davis would wake back up and fuss if Herman stopped, even for a moment.  So as we talked about the spring rains and the fine wildflower showing they had seen roadside on the drive over and how the cotton looked in the fields, she would interrupt the flow every once in a while with admonition to "keep jiggling" if Herman's will to jiggle flagged even a little.

I recall this story, because I had a chance to remember both of them Friday night.  I have a pretty easy to pronounce first name and rarely have a chance to hear people mis-calling my name.  Being with Aunt Martha and Uncle Herman was always one exception, because they tended to use German/Polish consonant pronunciation, so that Vickie and Walter came out Wickie and Valter.  Meeting my new friend Evelyn Lacey on Friday night, introduced a new variation on Vickie:  Mickie.

Pat and Dina Lacey, parents of the wonderful Will(iam), Evelyn, and Catherine had me out for family pizza night on Friday (and Catherine can stow away the pizza!).  If any of you have ever watched the "Dance, Dance" videos that Pat posts, I am here to attest to their authenticity and energy.  Pat, out of respect for my students' ability to find anything on the internet that might be construed as suspect about their professor's habits and hobbies, did not record our dance frenzy (or our wrestling moves), but let me just say that we had a joy-filled time and that Evelyn's face and relative primness of her body language below does not reflect the pace and delight of the rest of the night, as she continued to try to attract my attention for the next thing:  "Mickie, my turn!  Mickie, come here!  Mickie, Mickie, Mickie!"

I also got to browse Will's Friday folder, where I saw his perfect spelling test and we engaged in a long a detailed conversation about his library book about snakes.  I don't think he believed me when I told him about all the snakes we have at Leisure Lake, six of which were shown in actual color photos in the very book he had checked out of his very own school library.  I think I am now a very exotic person.

Thank you Pat for picking me up and driving me back to Boston.  Your family is the highlight of the trip, barely edging out my long walk through the winter wonderland of Beacon Hill, the Boston Commons, and the amazingly frozen Charles River (in my perfect, borrowed snow boots).

*********

NOTE to Catherine:  Thanks for the inquiry about the small violin and piano that we gave Adam and Nico for Christmas.  I would say that the piano is about Barbie size, but the violin would be about cello size for a Barbie.  They are both music boxes and have excellent detail.  The violin even comes with a carrying case, so you can pretend like you are carrying a small machine gun a la Mugsy Malone.  I found them at the Signals catalogue. 

Waste

January 5, 2010


I read in the paper this morning that Americans waste 160 billion pounds of food each year.  Some comes (I imagine) from those trays of foods the cafeteria ladies dump into the trash after the kids have eaten the roll and picked the bits of meat off the faux pizza slice.  I figure another pretty big amount comes from supermarkets disposing of regulated products that pass their expiration date.  Close to half, however, comes from our homes.  When I say "our," I'm not just talking about Walter and my home, but I will admit that we have had some trouble trimming our shopping and cooking down to accommodate two rather than four. We don't seem to get through the milk in a timely way.  We end up composting more spoiled produce than we should (composting is better than landfilling, but not that much better).  We seem to feel there is some virtue in storing our leftovers in little plastic tubs that clutter the refrigerator for a requisite number of days before we toss them in the garbage, rather than throwing them out immediately after they become left over.  Is it delusional in addition to being excessive to imagine that someone might reheat and reuse those items?


I don't think I can eliminate food waste, but I think I can do better than I am.  One solution I'm going to try:


Once a week (or every other week) take all the saggy, wilty produce from the refrigerator, put it all in a stock pot with water.  Make vegetable stock.  Compost what remains of the even soggier, wiltier vegetables and freeze the stock instead of buying canned stock for my cooking needs.


Any other ideas?


Walter and I are headed to Boston tomorrow for a professional meeting.  What was I thinking?  At least Mary Ann was sympathetic enough to lend me some snow boots.  Now I have to figure out how to fit them in my suitcase (and wonder if anything in my professional wardrobe goes with orange snow boots).

Terrorize

December 31, 2010


I should probably wax poetic about the end of the year, my lessons learned, my hopes for 2011.  I may fall into that trap tomorrow.  Today I want to tell you about my trip to the meat market.  


Until breakfast this morning, Walter and I were undecided about whether to cook New Year's Day dinner or take the fam to eat out.  We finally decided on eating in, so that we could guarantee the right kind of luck and money (black-eyed peas and cabbage) in our NYD diets.  This sent me off shortly after breakfast to Readfield's (my butcher) in search of a pork loin.  I took my running buddy, Emma (niece extraordinaire) with me.

Said niece, Emma

Emma was fascinated by a store where all you can buy is meat and meat-related stuff.  After Ben, my favorite butcher (and don't tell me that everyone doesn't have a fave butcher), picked and wrapped our roast, Emma wanted to carry that almost ten pound beauty to the cash register.  


At first she cradled it, but since it is long and a bit unwieldy, she opted for slinging it over her shoulder (like a continental solider), and hefting it to the check out.  I helped her get it up on the counter, where she tapped on it while Tammy rang it up.  Someone asked if she was tenderizing it, and she agreed that that was what she was doing.


Emma insisted on carrying it out to the car and pulled it up on her lap for the ride home, where she continued to make a very satisfying noise slapping it as we drove along.


After a few minutes she asked, "Aunt Vickie, do you think I have terrorized this end enough?"


I pronounced it suitably terrorized and she worked her way to the other end.


I am perfectly certain that we will have the most terrorized roast in the neighborhood for our family dinner tomorrow and with all the black-eyed peas and cabbage we are going to eat, we will be the most fortunate family as well.

Report

December 28, 2010

Merry Christmas!

I accidentally decided to take a Christmas hiatus.  Over the last week, I considered posting.  Who wouldn't have wanted to read my sassy description of Davis bringing his pots and pans home for Christmas SO THAT HIS MOM AND DAD COULD HELP HIM SCRUB THEIR OIL ENCRUSTED BOTTOMS?

Adam definitely asked me to do a post about the Christmas day concert that he and Nico performed at our house on their new violin and grand piano music boxes.

There has to be a story worth relating about my niece dating a mouse elephant.

You definitely deserve to read the account of the annual Christmas bird count (as performed by the Brazos Master Naturalist and/or the local Audubon Society).  Once again they spotted at least 150 vultures that live at one house.  Those black dots on and around this house are roosting vultures not multiple lightning rods.

While those intrepid bird watchers/counters roamed the county spotting over 500 birds, about twenty Canadian (I'm guessing on their nationality. I didn't check their documents) geese dropped by our lake for a bit of a swim before they moved on further south.

This morning (I use that term more in hope than in confidence, since Davis is still asleep) we are packing the Young Prince up and sending him back to Ohio, betting once again that he can squeeze through between the storm that just blanketed the eastern half of the country and the one that's pending.  I just don't know how he is going to work at the incredibly high standard and rate of productivity that he has become accustomed to, thanks to his diligent and able assistants:

Fix

December 22, 2010


I can't figure out why some people can't view the long and the short version of the two C-SPAN videos r when I post them within the same entry.  Here is the short (Erin) version.  The longer version and the explanation is in the original entry below:

Observe (Personally)

December 22, 2010


I had planned a journal entry for today that involved a youtube video and wind.  I can save it.  


Instead, I'm going to exercise a point of personal privilege this morning, much as Congressman Chet Edwards did on the floor of the U.S. House of Representatives last night.  I encourage you to watch the entire twenty-five minutes if you have the time as he talks about what is right and best about America (this video starts about half a minute before he takes the floor, but it was the best I could do in the way of editing the C-SPAN video so that you didn't have to watch the preceding ten hours and 57 minutes of deliberations).  If you don't have a half an hour to spare, skip to the second clip I have embedded below (SPOILER ALERT:  Erin plays a featured role as her legacy becomes part of the permanent Congressional record.).  It's just a minute or two that comes near the end of his speech.  Let me know what you think.

Clean and Caption

December 16, 2010

Cleaning up at the end of the semester gives me a brilliant, liberating feeling.  It goes beyond clearing my office desk and credenza.  I tackled the desk in Erin's room this morning.  I work in Erin's room almost every day.  I check my mail on the laptop at her desk.  We have all the beading activity in her room.  As you know, any flat surface accumulates stuff, and her desk is no exception, so this morning I returned all the strewn about markers that Emma had used to make Thanksgiving decorations back to their various containers.  I sorted bead project addresses and receipts and put them away.  I now have a clean flat surface, so more stuff can start building up!

In the process I opened one of the gazillion books, notebooks, photo albums, diaries, etc. that Erin was always starting and abandoning.  

For your entertainment, here is a sampling from that very Lisa Frank Diva Photo Album.  I have written her own caption that she included on the back of each photo (proving, once again, that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree--I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to find the perfect caption for each photo I put in an album, which explains why I am six years behind in getting my photos organized.).

"the karatie boggie  EB, CS!"

NOTE BENE:  I think she meant "the karate boogie."

"Long way from success or should I say tall?"

I also found this in the "notes" section of the album, thus affirming the lovely effect cleaning and sorting can have:

Anticipate

December 12, 2010


At first, Davis was going to stay a few days in Columbus after he finished taking and grading finals.  I figured he had earned a little time to blow off steam and hang out without responsibilities or even having to explain to his (very understanding) mother why he was awake when he should be sleeping and vice versa. Friday night he called for travel advice:  should he try to slip out of town and down IH65 as the very rainy front pushed through and before the very snowy front arrived?  I hadn't watched the weather, so I assumed he could let it pass on through over the weekend and get on the road on Monday.  


When Walter and I tuned into the weather channel over coffee on Saturday morning, the news looked grimmer.  If he missed that very small window that appeared to be open between late Saturday morning and late Saturday night, it would be next Thursday at the earliest before he had another safe opportunity to drive out of Ohio.


Never mind that his sleep was way off from the cumulative effect of late night studying plus the marathon grading party that he and the other TA's had until 5:30 a.m. one night this week to get final grades turned in in time.  He packed up and got on the road:  Columbus, Cincinnati, Louisville, Bowling Green, Nashville, Memphis, Little Rock, Texarkana, and then a series of small east Texas towns.  Since he left, we have spent more than our usual amount of time in front of the weather channel and with a tab to weather.com opened, watching as this cold front swept the path behind him.


I have a pot of green chile chicken and potato soup on the stove and think he might arrive by 9:00 or so this evening.  There's are many ways to drive the final 250 miles of his journey, but no good way.  Just two-lane windy, hilly (for Texas) roads through little east Texas towns.


View Larger Map

I hate waiting.


(FYI--DAVIS ARRIVED SAFELY LAST NIGHT)

Rest and Relax?

December 9, 2010


Home today.  Sent home by the IT people at work.  Sick office computer.  I can't tell how sick, but I took it as a bad sign that I could not open any programs besides my browser and my automatic weather feed.  I think that means it has mono.


Germs do spread.


I left for lunch at 11:30 (to meet Tracy and find out  she had had all the luck with lanyards this week--$500 on Tuesday alone) and all was well.  When I got back to the office at 12:30, my precious desktop was way under the weather.   I submitted my trouble ticket, printed out my grade spreadsheet (preparing for the worst-case scenario), and powered down.  Soon Ashley from IT arrived--just like someone from the Ghostbuster team.  She took over the driver seat and started searching the mitachondrial level of my computer files.  


She spent the next hour digging deeper and deeper in the file structure of my computer, while I did the same thing to the files and stacks of papers on my desk and credenza (I never NEVER throw anything away after the semester begins on the theory that I can't always tell what piece of paper a student my find important.).  She wasn't really making tut tut noises or big gasps of amazement or even little sighs of disgust while she worked, but I could tell she wasn't making big progress either.  At some point she exchanged texts with some other uber-guru, then asked me if I could work at home for the rest of the day.  When I nodded, she then added "And maybe all day tomorrow" and looked away quickly.


So here I am at home.


My reward for having all my grading finished and recorded (save finals)?  Besides have a computer in the critical care unit of the Mays Business School Computer Hospital?


Dog poop, scorpions, and puke.


That's right.  After breakfast this morning, I walked down the hall to see what I needed to do around the house before I went out and ran seasonal errands.  I glanced into Davis's room (which I had cleaned for his Thanksgiving trip home and which will need to be brushed up before he gets home for Christmas) and spotted four little poop logs.  I turned into Erin's room to avoid looking at the poop and found a six-inch (wide not tall) patch of puke.  


A quick about face headed me to the bathroom (and the cleaning supply cabinet) where I came face-to-face with brown scorpion trying to scrabble its way out of the bathroom sink.


I wished, ever so much, that I was at the office, and someone else was having my fun.

Drift

December 2, 2010

After teetering and stumbling along all semester, I bumped into the last class day of the semester today.  I'm not completely done yet--various grading opportunities remain. . . and of course finals (Yes, I do have the next-to-last one scheduled:  Wednesday December 15, 1-3), but I no longer have to worry about whether to dress for a class day or a classless day (those who know me can appreciate the microscopic difference between these two states of the world).  [Did you happen to notice the way I mangled the punctuation in that sentence?  Far too ugly to correct.  I think I will leave it as a warning to sloppy writing.  Sloppy, as you know, is one of the seven dwarfs of bad writing, along with choppy, wordy, stodgy, weak, awkward, and boring.]


I woke up wondering about my travel plans for 2018 and 2022.  Yes!  You can save the big bucks buying your airline tickets eight to twelve years in advance.


Actually, today the World Cup sites for beyond Brazil-2014 were chosen:  Russia and Qatar.  Let's all envision what kind of inducements it will take to get Walter's buy-in.  I'm thinking this will go much beyond a generous foot massage or dinner at Madden's.


On the topic of soccer, I played small-sided games at practice on Tuesday and managed not to hurt any of the girls through either clumsiness or willful fouling.  They even chose to pass to me some of the time, proving that I wasn't a complete liability.  My body didn't creak too much yesterday, but this morning I had to do my dynamic stretches almost half way around the lake before I felt like I was walking with my regular gait.  


We will close out the season tonight with our last practice.  I say "we" but I mean they.  I have signed on to help my friend Joanie backstage at her musical at Rudder High tonight and tomorrow (I know, it's an Odd Friday, but I really owe Joanie big time).  Hopefully, I can figure out whatever it is she wants me to do--ride herd on unsupervised teenagers revved up by the cooler weather and the approaching holidays, no doubt.


As long as I'm drifting from one topic to another, I'd probably better stop before I run aground. 


I promise I will get back to the lanyard workshops soon (One at Navarro after school on Monday), but in the meantime, if you are looking for the Perfect Teacher's Christmas Gift, it's just a click away.

List

November 28, 2010
Three Four Five things:

1. Davis took over The Dahvee Repore last night.  It had languished since he left for Ohio in August, appropriately, I think.  It borders on creepy/obsessive/fiction for a mom to continue to blog about her son in graduate school who lives 1000 miles away.  Really, Davis needed to grab his eponymous blog by the horns, which he has done.  Maybe he will invite me to guest blog from time to time.
2. Can anyone walk me through the process of editing the blog template so the header with Erin's photo and the blog title are centered over the blog?
3. I finished Lake Wobegone Days last night, just in the nick of Christmas.  You may remember I started it eleven months ago.  Reading about the north central midwest, when you hail from south central Texas really like visiting another country.  I had to take it slowly, just so I wouldn't miss any of the unfamiliar nuances.  For example, it took me quite a long time to envision driving the (same) car out onto a lake (every winter) and placing bets as to when it would fall through the ice AS AN ANNUAL FUNDRAISER.  I think the concept of ice tripped me up.  Anyway, I had a breakthrough on understanding Lake Wobegon and its inhabitants while catalog shopping yesterday.  You can order a t-shirt from Uncommon Goods that says Ludefisk:  the piece of cod that surpasses all understanding."  I think it was an epiphanal moment for me, and I guess that Gary Keillor would be annoyed that I had to learn it from a catalog, but if it was going to be a catalog the Uncommon Goods was better than most.
4. To Jan, who left a lovely comment about warehousing her child at the airport (insert smile here), I think it is wonderful that you named two of your kids after my pups (insert double smile here).  Seriously, thanks for helping me feel less odd about giving the dogs specific instructions and detailed explanations whenever I leave the house. 
5. If you have difficulty choosing Christmas gifts for teachers, co-workers, or health care providers, consider an Erin Dream Lanyard this Christmas.  For a $15 or $20 donation you can provide someone with a one-of-a-kind, handmade beaded ID lanyard, and 100% of your donation will go to fund a cure for neuroblastoma.  Email me, if you want more information.

Fly (and Land)

November 25, 2010


I figured we would spend at least part of the evening last night discussing the merits of pat down versus FBS as we enjoyed a beer and the prospect of someone else cooking and cleaning for Thanksgiving for a change.  It didn't turn out that way.  I don't even know which one Davis chose.


We do have him home from Ohio for the holiday, which we anticipated and now appreciate.


We also appreciate that the wing struts didn't give way when he landed in Houston.


We also appreciate the unexpected (and event-free) midnight to 4 am tour of the mainly deserted highways and tollways between Bryan and Houston (with added appreciation that I didn't turn into a pumpkin by staying up past midnight, because if you think of it, Thanksgiving Day is a bad day to be a pumpkin).


TSA search technique was the least of Davis's worries when his 4:30 pm flight got delayed multiple times yesterday as Continental tried to repair his plane's damaged struts, even flying in a specialized maintenance crew to do the final fix.  He boarded his flight a bit after midnight, Eastern time. . . only eight hours later than expected, but long after the last connecting flight and last ground shuttle van into Bryan had parked safely for the night, but that's okay.  Walter and I didn't mind.  We just split our night's sleep into shifts (8-midnight, then 4:30-8) and motored into the Big City to fetch him.


Teddy and Willie were totally confused when we got out of bed at midnight and left the house (Walter expressly told them we were not taking suitcases with us so they didn't have to worry.).  They were even more genuinely puzzled when we returned with The Young Prince.


I'm sure that there are many, many other things that deserve mention for my thanks today, but like Teddy and Willie earlier this morning, I'm a little too befuddled to recount them all, so I will cop out and hold up my friends and family for all they do for which I am thankful.