Library Day

Yesterday was a fun fun day. On Tuesdays, I usually supervise lunch for Emma Rose's class. The usual suspects are six years old and full of energy. Some are well-behaved, and a certain few are not. All are adorable and wonderful.

Sometimes I help during their library hour on Tuesdays, too. The librarian is always there, and I get to read a book to half the class, and then read the same book to the other half a little later. I get to check out the books, and this is great because I really get to know the kindergarteners and what they like. Yesterday, the librarian was away, so another mom and I took over library. AHHHHHHHH!!!!

Some kind soul donated a big box, decorated as a treehouse/book club. Two flashlights waited inside for the lucky readers. Kids were allowed to go in by twos and look at books in there. Egads. In theory, this is a nice, fun, cool idea. In practice, it's not. I turned around to see one of the young energetic girls whack another little angel in the head with a hardcover book. Sister Pat came in from the computer classroom next door with some stern looks for the children. Poor Emma Rose and her group had to walk around the building in the heat prior to the start of computer class because of that group's behavior during library. Sigh. I guess I should stick with young adults.

Here's to nap time.

Pilates Proud

I try to do Pilates once a week. I know, I know, I should exercise more. Still, my once a week sessions have made a great improvement in my life. I am stronger, more flexible, and hope to get even better. Anyone can buy Pilates tapes or DVDs and try the workout at home with little or no equipment. I prefer to see Gerri, my Pilates instructor, and have her work me through a session of an hour or so a week. She is great...nonjudgemental, encouraging, optimistic...a lovely person.

Pilates is named after its creator, Joseph Pilates. He was born in Germany in 1880, a sickly child. He worked on his physical gifts, and became stronger, and eventually could be called a self-made athlete. Talk about gumption! He developed a way to help people get stronger, even from a hospital bed. Pilates modified his contraptions until they became the equipment I use today. Unfortunately, there are many Pilates "knock-off" or pseudo studios around that use equipment not true to the Joseph Pilates origin. Every good Pilates instructor should be able to trace his/her training background back to Joseph Pilates himself. Note, too, that there is a West Coast/East Coast distinction.

If you do nothing else, try the hundreds. It's better and more effective than sit-ups, and you need no equipment. How do you do the hundreds? Any Pilates book or video will show you. This exercise takes little to no time, and builds up your abdominal area. Strengthening this area helps you with any physical activity. It helps people with bad backs walk without as much discomfort as before. The form is so simple, that my kids can do it. Hmmmmm....I should be doing the hundreds on my own more. Gotta work on that.

For example, I was diagnosed with scoliosis as a kid. I went to several chiropractors over the years, about once a week. I'm sure that helped somewhat, but I can honestly say that I made no great strides in standing up straighter. After my Pilates experience started, I could stand straighter. People think I am taller! Marilyn told me that I looked more firm, more athletic...wow!

Joseph Pilates...one of my heroes.

Silver? Already?

I've just returned from the Southern Tier of New York. Stan and Marilyn celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary this weekend, and both of their fine sons were there to celebrate with them. Stan's sister and her family attended, too.

I realized that I don't spend enough time with these people who are so close to my heart. I spend so much of my free time fussing about getting together with relatives who probably would truly rather do something else than see me. I know, that sounds sad, but it's an unfortunate fact of life. I'm not throwing the blanket over all the relatives, though; a lot of them I consider as friends, and they are always happy to see me. Others, some local ones, always make it a chore to get together.

Stan and Marilyn have a lot to be proud of...and it hasn't been easy for them. They are earning a great seat, as my husband would say. These beautiful people spoke heartfelt words to each other, and there wasn't a dry eye in the place. I don't want to intrude on their privacy, so I am going to stop here, but remember it forever.

I'm looking forward to spending time with my friends at the beach in three weeks or so. It keeps all of us sane.

Happy Anniversary with many more good years to Marilyn and Stan! Keep smilin'....

Won't You Be My Neighbor? Part 2

Mr. Rogers would be proud of our neighborhood. We even can hear passing trains, especially at night. There are rare Pennsylvania earthquakes, too.

Casey is another esteemed neighborhood resident. She lives in a family where everyone's names begin with a C or a K...and the cul de sac street name also begins with a K. She was the first to welcome us to the neighborhood when we looked at the house. She has beautiful blond hair and goes for walks every day. Yep, Casey is a Yellow Lab. My husband says we don't need a dog because we have Casey. She visits lots, and seems to always greet me when I come home. We played frisbee the other day and had a super time, but the frisbee, unfortunately, didn't survive the afternoon. When Eliot was younger, he would sit in Tony's bedroom window and watch the neighbors grill fish. . . and torment Casey with a swish of his tail.

Jesse is another fun neighbor dog. He lives a few blocks away, but his owner loves to walk. He often stops by for a visit. He's a King Charles Spaniel...and cute as a button. His favorite activity besides walking seems to be choking on mulch and trying to eat grass. I like him because his fur is soooo soft.

We have a span across the generations in our neighborhood. Mr. and Mrs. K... are in their 80's and are quite spry. Hey, they are transplanted coal crackers, too! Yesterday, Mr. K....brought us a bunch of bottles of extra orange juice that he came across. They both always think of my kids...When we first moved in, Emma was born two weeks later, and the K...s used to walk Tony and Elena to school every day. After the kids got in school, they went to Daily Mass. It was a great help to me. A few years ago, Mrs. K... had a nasty fall down a set of steps in her home. After she was taken to the hospital, Mr. K... was quite distraught, as you can imagine. Mr. Private Detective sat with him in our den and calmed him down, while I tried to get him to eat something. It's good to have neighbors you can count on counting on you right back.

We are also lucky to have our backyard touching the backyard of Oliver, Elliott, and Elizabeth and their parents. The kids get along so well and play in the yards. They also go to the same pool. Oliver is special because he deals with autism. The kids and I really enjoy his company, especially in the evenings. He is well versed in playing fair and identifying insects. He shares his amazement with bubbles floating through the sky with us. He likes to swing, and his mom says it's good for his development. Swing away, Oliver. He keeps to his own personal schedule too. I can almost set the clock by when he is up, dressed, and in the backyard singing or playing. They are a very special family that I keep close to my heart.

A special family lives on the corner...two moms and their twins. The twins are beautiful and strong and courageous. They'll be two years old soon. I like to watch them take off in two different directions! They also have an old dog...I forget his name. Their other dog, Elvis, was put down last year. I liked Elvis because he always let you know where you stood with him. This family somewhat keeps to themselves, but when they are out and about they are friendly and neighborly.

Our new neighbors I don't know very well other than they put an above ground pool in their backyard and have two large German Shepherds that I have christened Bow and Wow. I'll let you guess why.

Mr. Jack and his wife have a tragic story to tell in that their daughter died three years ago. This young woman had diabetes and then developed a childhood cancer that killed her. Mr. and Mrs. Jack kept their daughter's cat, Milo. Milo must be part human...he listens and seems to understand. When Mr. Jack's daughter was dying, Milo kept watch and did not leave her side, even to eat. They are New England Yankees, and Mr. Jack and Mr. Bagel have a healthy baseball rivalry between the Red Sox and the Yankees.

If you like good neighbors, come to Whitfield.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

I know that you either loved Mr. Rogers or disliked him, but he taught all of us what a neighborhood could be.

Instead of Mr. McFeeley, I have Dominic the mailman. He rubberbands our mail before he slips it through the slot, and when the door is open, I am certain to hear a cheery "Hey!" from him. I bet some people on his route don't know that he's a great gardener or that he is allergic to that "stuff" people put on their lawns to kill the weeds. Everybody does know that he does a great job, gives every dog on his route a treat almost every day, and knows all the kids and what time they come home from school. He knows who everybody works for, and I swear, who's naughty or nice.

Speaking of naughty or nice, there's a private detective who lives across the street from me. He's Air Force Retired, and has his share of stories and medals. The kids love him, too. We've been calling him Hawkeye because he stations himself in his driveway with a telescope and a lawn chair to watch the baby hawks hatch, grow and fledge in the pine tree next to my house. His wife loves animals, too, and she puts out water for the birds every day. She used to feed the squirrels, too, until they got too destructive and numerous. Now the hawk takes care of the squirrel population...and the bunnies, too.

Mr. and Mrs. E..... live next door to us, on the other side of the hawk's pine tree. They are neighborly enough to let my kids run around in our adjacent back yards. Sometimes they'll babysit in a pinch, and they have their own grandchildren to worry about! Mr. E..... just got a heart valve replaced at the Cleveland Clinic. Yesterday he mowed his own lawn for the first time in three years. I stood up and applauded when I saw him. He looks so much healthier and his wife is so much less worried. He's another one of my witnessed miracles.

The guy who makes the bagels and his family live across the street next to the private detective. They are from Long Island and are always working hard. One day Mrs. Bagel went out and returned home to find ... no Mr. Bagel. When she left, he was working on turning their attic into a playroom. Mr. Bagel can survive for hours on no sleep; he's just amazing. Anyway, Mrs. Bagel was frantic to return home and not hear construction noises from the upper floor. She ran up the steps and discovered Mr. Bagel on his back. Frightened, she ran towards his prone body..."MR. BAGEL! MR. BAGEL"...no response. She shook him...and...woke him up...He had fallen asleep on the floor amidst all his tools and lumber. Happily, he was just at the outer limits of his lack of sleep meter. Sure scared her, though.

Bye Bye Big Boy

Politics is a hot subject. I love the day after an election. The silly taped phone calls from "Out of Area" stop bothering me. The even sillier glossy campaign flyers stop ending in my garbage can. The nice ladies and men and the poll booth sit back and relax. The reporters sleep in after a night of doing their duty.

I hooted this morning at the breakfast table. Actually hooted. In a desperate bid to keep his seat that he managed to hold on to for twenty four or so years, Chip Brightbill went nuts in his campaign. He got dirty. He dug up an old girlfriend of his opposition. He claimed that he himself was a family man. Interesting...one night in July, he voted himself a pay raise, too. Too bad, Chip. Bad move. One of his campaign workers called me, a real live person. Well, for those of you who know me, you can guess what I did. Yep, that's right...I gave her a hard time. I am appalled at the arrogance and self-centeredness of many Pennsylvania politicians. Many statements from them claimed that voters wouldn't come out to vote them out or they would understand or forget about the pay raise or the lack of property tax reform. Hey Chip, howcum you never called me in the past 24 years for anything other than my vote? Ask me what I think on some of the issues. Send me a glossy question filled survey and ask me what's important in my world.

Chip took the day off today. The "apathetic" voters who wouldn't turn out forced him to concede at 10p.m. the evening of the election. The polls closed at eight. Now these guys are saying that they hope we're happy to vote in inexperienced folks and that it will bite us in the butt. Awwwww.....now they care. I say term limits of four years.

That's enough time.

Kindergarten Butterflies

Emma Rose had a happy day today. Her Kindergarten class went on a field trip to Hands On Museum in Lancaster. I went along as a last minute substitute for a parent who couldn't make it.

I know many adults who would have loved this place. You could pretend to work in a widget factory, get your face painted, work on a farm, catch fish, visit a grocery store, dress up, milk a cow, gather eggs, play in a treehouse, and so on. It is a place where the imagination is king. Emma really liked fishing for trout, and checking to see if they were "keepers" or had to be thrown back.

Emma also has been busy helping me pull weeds out of the garden, with a special interest in milkweed. She took many milkweed leaves to school...for butterflies! The class has been watching caterpillars and then chrysalises(?)...I call them cocoons, which I'm sure is incorrect...and then butterflies. The butterflies will be released in a few days, and the kindergarten class will be released in a few weeks. Emma wants to stay in kindergarten, and I'm not sure that I disagree with her. Kindergarten is great. With a heavy sigh, though, we must go onward and upward like the butterflies, to first grade and wearing a uniform and learning to read and adding and subtracting. We will miss the days of kindergarten and the butterflies and the children's rainbows hanging from the ceiling.

Oh, by the way...riding in a yellow school bus all the way to Lancaster is definitely an experience, especially when you fill the bus with vibrating six year olds...one of whom has a nosebleed and another who is nauseous.

Count your blessings today, and say a prayer for your kindergarten teacher.

Dance Then, Wherever You May Be

I did it. I survived Mother's Day with Mom in heaven. Praise God that I have three children of my own to keep me occupied. Matt, a special young man, also visited me to help distract me from the day. (Matt is the younger son of Marilyn and Stan, friends, confidants, and companions on my journey.) My son, Tony, had a terrible asthma attack during church and I had to leave. Then we tried to watch Mass on EWTN after we got home( and he took his rescue medication). What a mistake...

A priest gave a long winded (about 40 minutes or so) homily about Mother's Day. Unfortunately, he belonged to the Priests for Life organization. His political agenda roared over his message. It got so bad that little Tony was asking me questions that were beyond his years and understanding level. I was furious that this...priestly person....did not enlighten us about ANYTHING except his rant. He reminded me of why I fell away from the Catholic Church as a young adult. WHY DO THEY DO THAT??????? I shut off the Mass on TV. Sorry Lord...it wasn't You.

My ever-suffering husband shared the homily that Father Rich gave at our church. Ironically enough, it was about people who had fallen away from the faith. He compared them to embers that fall out of the fire. Alone, an ember will burn out pretty fast. Together, the fire endures. Thanks, Father Rich, for being a priest and not a politician.

I've learned that to survive I must endure. I've also learned to dance wherever I may be. The Lord wants me to...and I willingly oblige. The joy that my faith gives me is incredible. I focus on that. Why? I dunno...because I can? There's enough suffering in the world already, I guess. Father Priest for Life talked about how people can't come up for Holy Communion and break off a piece of the Host and hand it back, saying "I don't want this part." Sorry, the analogy is crazy...how could you want only a piece of Jesus? The Eucharist isn't the Church; the Eucharist is God. The church is wedded to Jesus...I guess the theology escapes me.

Luckily, I am still dancing and sharing love the best I can. I guess Father Priest for Life was trying to do that, too...but it didn't work.

Lost

I walked into my office in Lytle Hall on Friday...and almost tripped over a huge handcart in the middle of the floor. A sad day, indeed, because once again I am being evicted. It's the nature of the business, and until I get the degree I need, I can expect it again and again. Rumor has it that we will be moved to the site of the former Chinese Christian Church on the other side of campus. Sounds cool to me...it's an adventure. My three officemates this year offered me great entertainment, consolation, singing, and more than a few laughs. Three of us will be returning, with one of us lucky enough to rise above to a tenure track position at another university. There is hope.

Imagine my surprise to find a terrific gift for me on my desk from a little angel named Nancy. Let me offer a little background here. As you can see if you visit my other blog, I use the novel Wicked by Gregory Maguire in my composition courses sometimes. This book is great, and many students like the challenge of reading a good novel. I've paired this novel with a blogging experience for the Reading Hospital nursing students. Nancy discovered this, and told me that she knew Mr. Maguire well. I was floored. She mentioned my situation to him, and he responded in a big way. Most people who are successful, talented, and famous don't have the time to reach out to people they don't know. Most people who are busy parents don't have the energy to do the same. Guess what? He inscribed one of his books, Lost, to me with a great message...not just a signature, mind you, but a thank you. WOW...

I am truly touched by his graciousness to one of his fans. I am really touched that Nancy shared her time and her friend with me. I hope that this is a sign that I should keep on trying to get my writing skills up to snuff...and perhaps have even a tiny smidgen of success with a publication and a job.

All of this turned my lost kind of day into my Lost day...the day that Gregory Maguire reached a hand over the fence to pull me over...the day that Nancy shared a touch of greatness.

Lestat and Jesus...

Did anybody see the author Anne Rice on the Tony Danza show? Christ the Lord Out of Egypt is her newest book, and according to her website, she is hard at work on another about Jesus.

How does one go from Lestat to Jesus? Spiritual growth, the Holy Spirit, healing are some of the words that come to mind after watching her interview, which was SO SHORT...c'mon Tony...you've got a woman of substance on the show and you didn't even attempt to read her latest work? Anyway. Years ago, Rice's daughter, just about six died of a rare case of childhood leukemia. Rice, a lapsed Catholic and an aspiring writer, attempted to work through her grief. When she started a short story involving an interview with a vampire, well, it just took off on its own. She told her television audience that the vampire was the perfect vehicle for her grief. She was able to live, see, walk, but not participate fully in life. Wow. Brilliant. Her work is dark and moody, she says, and I agree. I tried to read one of her books and simply couldn't because of the DEEP darkness. Maybe I'll try again, but I have a feeling that Lestat and I won't be good companions.

Now she has had an epiphany. She has returned to her faith...welcome home, Anne. She commented that it was a Saturday evening Mass when she had a profound experience and she decided to use her talents in a new way.

I am going to buy this book. She might be on my wavelength. How could I not support somebody with such a story and a great version of the Ave Maria playing on her website? ( www.annerice.com )

God Bless the Grieving Ones.

The Vicar of Dibley

Saturday night and PBS and British comedies...what could be more perfect? Right now I am hooked on The Vicar of Dibley, starring Dawn French.

She is everything that you would expect a Vicar not to be and to be all at the same time. The parish council is also a hoot, and the play between the characters is quite outrageous, but not outlandish. I especially like the character of Jim, who says, "No No No No...Yes" and his wife, who says "Yes Yes Yes Yes...No"...too funny.... Each character has his/her own "wackiness" in a clever and delightful manner. The characterization is fabulous.

Dawn French portrays a sexy vicar named Geraldine who loves chocolate as much as stirring up Dibley. The village and its church are exactly what one would expect of rural England, but it easily could be transferred to Berks County without too many changes! Maybe that's why I like this show so much. For more on this great sitcom, check out www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/guide/articles/v/vicarofdibleythe_7776690.shtml

End of the semester

I am plowing through my many papers at the end of the semester...which is why I haven't been writing as much this week.

I'll be back....

An Elephant Nose

Way back when, when I was shorter than I am now, I lived on Huber St. right across from a playground and ball field. The kids on Huber St. attended Dana St. School, which now has been converted into an apartment building. Funny, I used to wonder what it would be like to live in that school, and now some Wilkes-Barre residents actually do live there. Anyway, Dana St. School had an annual play. I remember most of them being performed around Christmas time...one year I was Mrs. Santa Claus. Egads! Did I actually admit that?

I had to make a snoring sound as Mrs. Claus because I fell asleep on stage. I couldn't do it. How silly. I ran around trying to make snoring noises and finally came out with a sound that approximated snoring that my teacher could accept. ( I really preferred the year that I was a dancing reindeer.) My costume was a fancy red dress with a Christmas apron. That's all I can recall at the moment....except for the elephant nose.

There was a girl in my class who didn't have the best life. She didn't talk about it, but we could tell because she had raggedy clothing and messy hair. In the world of coal crackers, this was clearly not acceptable. The terrible thing was she smelled bad, too. I never made fun of her like one or two smartalecks did. Most of us knew that if our parents found out that we did such a thing, we'd be in BIG TROUBLE.

One day I saw L.... at the playground with her mom. It was a pretty warm day, and her mom wore a winter coat and scuffed up slippers. Her nose was always red...no matter what time of day or season, it remained the mom's outstanding feature. L's mom let her play in the old cement wading pool. What's the big deal? It hadn't been cleaned in a while. The water was black, the cement was crumbling. Even then, the corruption of Wilkes-Barre politics had its visual cues. There were all kinds of yucky bugs in that black water, too.

At school, the teacher had been asking the kids to bring in all kinds of props and costumes for the play. L....had been given the part of a toy elephant. She needed a nose to make a convincing elephant. "Doesn't anybody have a gray sock at home? It doesn't have to be your sock...it could be anybody's sock, as long as it's gray," the teacher whined. Every day. For a week. I had gray socks and I felt as if she knew it. She'd look right at me every time she requested a gray sock. No way was I gonna give L.... my gray sock. Didn't anybody else have a gray sock?

At home, I complained to mom that I didn't want to volunteer my gray sock. Mom let it up to me, but wondered why I would worry about such a thing, considering I had loads of socks (mostly white). I sat in my bedroom, considering the gray sock. Finally, I made my decision.

The show went on. The elephant had its nose. After the play, L.... tried to return my sock. I gave her the matching one. Not because she smelled or because Mom made me do it...but I thought she might need a warm pair of gray socks. She didn't want them. Wow. I took them home and stuck them in the back of my sock drawer.

What an unlikely place for an elephant nose.

The Rapture of Canaan

Wow...Sheri Reynolds has done it again...Right now I'm on page 282 out of 317. If you read William Faulkner's Light in August, you'll see a slight similarity here.

The narrator is named Ninah, and she is involved in the Church of Fire and Brimstone and God's Almighty Baptizing Wind. Her grandfather is the head of the church and has some strict rules. Ninah matures and believes she is carrying the child of Jesus...and at birth the child's hands are webbed together, in a prayerful manner. Her grandfather and her family (which is basically the aforementioned church) believe that perhaps Ninah is right about the child.

Her characterizations are wonderful and so alive. Reynolds almost seems to be able to give them a soul we can see. Wish I could do that.

Anyway, I am enjoying every word. I feel like such a groupie! I plan on analyzing the structure of this novel and see if I can learn anything.

Fly Fishing

ugh...not my cup of tea, so to speak. I thought I might be able to "hard edit" the work of a man in Kutztown, who HAND WROTE his ideas in a MARBLE COPYBOOK. I was wrong. Joan typed up his work...I took one look and freaked. My friend, Sam, might be able to take over. I say might because he might "freak" too. We'll see. At least Joanie got some typing money out of it.

Friends of Elphaba

I've started another blog for the Reading Hospital course I start teaching May 1. It's at http://friendsofelphaba.blogspot.com ....Check out my students' work...you'll love it...the students at this nursing school are hard workers and great people.

Keep smiling.....