Spring Daze

In theory, it is springtime in Texas. The trees are budding and stands of bluebonnets line many of the highways in the metroplex. The rich blue of the flowers against the deep green of grass, thanks to an abundanceof rain in the last few weeks, is definitely confimation that spring is in the air. Today, both me and the bluebonnets were shocked by what else was in the air - near freezing temperatures and snow flurries! How does this figure into the spring scenario? I guess it is another example of life being an array of contrasts. Somehow, the white snow flakes enhanced the vibrancy of the colors of the grass and the bluebonnets.

Today was a study in color all the way around. We were helping our buddy, The Accidental Knitter, get her yarns ready for a local Fiber Fest. After winding thousands of yards of wool, we became a little slap happy and began naming the color palettes of the various hanks. It was quite amusing. It is a good thing that no psychiatrist was around; we probably all would have been hauled away by the little men in white jackets. I will share some of the rejected color names. If your are as warped as we are, I am sure that the palettes will appear to you in vivid color. If not, visit The Accidental Knitter (as well as the Knitting Fairy, and Spirit of Knitting) at the DFW Fiber Fest next weekend.

Okay, close your eyes and imagine:

• I Should Have Been A Cardiologist
• Sunburned Frog
• Prom Queen
• Emergency Room Visit
• Lawnmower Accident
• Peep Encounter
• Easter, The Sequel
• Green Eggs and Ham
• Queen Victoria's Underwear
• Spring Daze
• Petri Dish
• Bluebonnets In The Snow

All this with the help of a little sugar, caffeine, and good friends. Watch out OPI. You may be next!

The point of this? It was good clean fun, something that is hard for many people to come by these days. I am appauled by the number of adults who find it impossible to have a good time without a bit of alcohol. Don't get me wrong; I really am not against drinking - responsibly of course. But, I do feel sorry for those people who can't enjoy themselves without a little liquor. In my case, I am perfectly capable of making an ass of myself without it so why go to the trouble of getting drunk. Besides, if I had been drinking, I would not have remembered all of the rejected color namess and this entry would have been about hangovers or something equally as boring.

I wish you all a colorful spring. And, Happy Easter. May the Easter bunny bring you eggs the colors of a Spring Bouquet rather than those of a 140 degree chocolate bunny.

Joy Sticks

Last weekend Erin went to a UIL math competition. I was proud of her for making the math team because she was the only freshman. She allowed as that being a freshman was the least significant factor in her minority status. More important is the fact that she is not male, Asian, or the owner of a Nintendo DS. These seem to be the markers fro true math geeks. (Okay, I admit it. Everyone is a little bit racist.) There is not much she can do about not being male or Asian, but the Nintendo DS is at least a possibility.

Like most these days, our family has had our share of game systems - Nintendos, Game Cube, PS2 - and we have all enjoyed them. And for Erin, the Gameboy that was a primary source of entertainment during elementary school has been replaced by an Ipod as her constant companion. She did ask for the Nintendo DS saying that it was important to her success as a math nerd. This is not such an unreasonable request, is it?

For years, video games have been targeted as the devil in the lives of children; they make kids fat, stupid and violent. What made kids fat, stupid, and violent before video games existed? Blaming any single thing for all the problems with the youth of our society is absurd. Like anything, video games probably have some negatives, but I think that the positives far outweigh any negative impact that playing games has.

I may be from the first generation of real video game playing kids though I came to it much later than my own children. I was in college before I became a serious video game player. Pac-Man was the reason I graduated magna cum laud in three years. Almost every night, after practicing and studying, a friend and I would head to the local pizza joint, usually around 11 pm. We would each drop a quarter in the table top Pac-Man machine and play for hours, often leaving an unfinished game when the restaurant closed at 2 am. Granted I did spend a great deal of time sitting at the game table, it did not make me fat. How can you eat when you have a hand on the joy stick constantly? It did not make me stupid. In fact, it was pretty good at honing hand-eye coordination, problem solving skills, and patience. And, it certainly did not make me violent. I still have a special place in my heart for Blinky. I admit it. While in college game playing was therapy. In addition to Pac-Man, there was Q-bert and Dig-Dug. Wow! I miss those guys. Another true confession: an hour and a half before I got married, my maid of honor and I were at this very pizza place playing Pac-Man.

I must confess that 20 some years later, I still play games, in much the same way as I did back then. Only now, it is Zuma or Puzzle Inlay on my computer in the wee hours of the night. Now the benefit is not so much therapy as it is that they say that as you age, your mind will stay sharper if you do puzzles or the like each day. So, Zuma becomes an age-defying agent. Actually, I really don't care about the benefits, or lack thereof, I simply enjoy playing games.

As a parent I suppose that I should take the whole game playing thing a little more seriously. What if all those people are right and it is bad for kids. No. They can't possibly be right. I think that playing video games may have more benefit now than it did back when I started playing.

If nothing else, video games bridge the generation gap. Today in my class at school (yes, it is a music theory class), we had a long discussion about games and game playing. Almost every one of my students has some kind of game system and plays regularly. I took my jaunt down memory lane mentioning to them the games from my youth. Much to my amazement, they had heard of, and some of them had even played, all the arcade games from the early 80's.

In an effort not to be one of those parents stuck in the past, I make an effort to play the current games with my kids as well. Me playing DDR is quite entertaining. It doesn't really matter that I am terrible at it; what is important is that the girls and I all have fun and we do it together.

When my children have children of their own, I hope that they will reminisce about their days playing Mario, FIFA soccer, Spyro and DDR. And, maybe there will be a Pac-Man machine at the senior citizen center so I can share the joy and show the grandchildren how it all started.

The World Is Round

Last week I took Harley back to the knit shop to see Jackie. I wanted to take Jackie a gift to say thank you for having been kind enough to rescue Harley. It is often difficult to find an appropriate gift for off-the-wall occasions such as this. Having no idea what I wanted, we went to an off-the-wall little shop off the square here in Denton. I found what I thought was the perfect thing - a keychain in the shape of an angel wing that had inscribed on it "The world is round. What often seems like the end is really the beginning." I think that it had an attribution but I can't tell you who it is.

These words certainly ring true to the situation that Harley found herself in on that cold February morning. Between the subfreezing temperatures and the amount of traffic in the area where she was found, the end seemed more of a possibility than did a beginning. We were all blessed and that day the odds were beat; it was a beginning.

I was struck again tonight by the truth that rings in these words. The soccer banquet was this evening. This is the real end of the soccer season. And for Brooke, the end of her soccer career. Brooke went out with a bang by earning the team's MVP award for the second year in a row. The coaches had kind words to say to all of the graduating seniors and the senior slide show, done by one of the parents, was a touching tribute to what these kids have accomplished thus far in their lives.

For the past three years I have attended the soccer banquet and wondered how I would feel when it was my child who was the senior. There were some tonight who were a little teary. I thought this might be me but I found myself hearing the words on the angel wing key ring. This was more of a beginning than an end.

True, Brooke may not play soccer anymore but isn't there more to life than soccer? All that she learned about team spirit, discipline, concentration, frustration, winning and losing must be transferable in the life that is yet to come. And, hopefully, whatever her coaches and teammates saw that made them honor her as MVP must be something that might help her to be an MVP in some other endeavor.

Though I will miss her next year when she goes to Chicago, I am excited that Brooke will be experiencing new things and that she will be swimming in a bigger pond. And as for soccer, Erin still has three more years so it is not over for me! Maybe when Erin is a senior I will feel differently. It may really be the end of watching the girls play, of sitting in the rain, snow and bitter cold . . .

Erin could play soccer in college.

To Be Or Not To Be

If you are reading this hoping for Shakespeare, sorry. I am not feeling that literate today. I am thinking about fads - those things whose mention is followed by "Thank God that is over." You know what I am talking about - excessive blue eye shadow, disco, pet rocks, streakers, "Baby On Board" signs, beanie babies, dashboard hula dancers, Furby. Aren't you glad that these things are history? Fads are things that seemed like a good idea at the time but in hind sight it is patently obvious that they weren't.

Then there are the things that disappeared only to return again - Care Bears, platform shoes, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. What makes anyone think that what was not such a good idea 10 or 20 years ago is a good idea now? Besides, it makes me feel really old to see them come back again.

I am waiting impatiently for some of today's fads to disappear. And, I will do my part to make sure that they never have a second chance. Do we ever want to see low rise jeans and reality TV again?

Why bring this all up today? Two seemingly unrelated things happened today that made me think about the life expectancy of those things that fall into the category of "fad".

It has been ten years since BK and I wrote and published the first edition of Holding Your Prayers In Your Hands. At that time, our spiritual director said to us, "You know that this Anglican rosary thing is just a fad and will probably not last." What is the proper response to such a statement? The Catholic rosary has been around for 600 years; maybe we will be as lucky? All we could say was that that was a risk that we were willing to take. I am happy to say that he was wrong.

Ten years later, the books are still selling. The only advertising we have ever done is by word of mouth and we sell roughly 100 books per month. Some of those sales are to bookstores who are repeat customers. Others are to individuals who are just discovering the Anglican rosary as a personal prayer tool.

We had a phone call yesterday from a man here in Denton who was interested in the book. Sparing many of the conversation's details here, the upshot was that we met him for coffee this afternoon. The enthusiasm with which he met us and our book was evidence that the interest in the Anglican rosary is still alive and fresh. We had a wonderful conversation about the book, the Episcopal Church, the spiritual life, and a mutual interest in St. Francis. As it turns out, our sharing culminated with this person saying that he has been researching the Third Order of the Society of St. Francis and he wanted to know if we knew anyone involved with this group. One would have to be blind to not see God's hand in bringing us together this afternoon. And it was all made possible through our book, the potential fad.

The other thing that happened that furthered my thinking on fads was the result of a trip to the sewing machine shop. (No, I am not going back to making my children's clothing like my mother did!) BK and I went to pick up our machines that were being serviced. We were about to leave when we saw what looked to be needle felting on a work table. No knitter will resist the urge to comment on seeing a hunk of roving and the accompanying felted project. Innocently we asked the woman working who was doing the needle felting. She got all excited and said that "that machine right there does it." Machine? Why does one need a machine? You can go to Hobby Lobby and buy all of the necessary implements, none of which is a machine. Okay, I'll bite. "How much does this machine cost?" $349. "Three hundred and forty-nine dollars?!" You can buy the materials to needle felt by hand for about $25 and have the satisfaction of beating the heck out of the fiber yourself. Why would anyone buy said machine? Here is where the fad thing comes in again.

We all know that needle felting is a "craze". You got it; that translates to fad. Once the fad is over, what do you do with this machine? Maybe it will earn a place in a museum next to 8 track tape players, rotary telephones, and televisions with picture tubes.

I will continue, as long as it is cool, to needle felt by hand saving myself more than $300 by not buying the Needle Felting Machine. Plus, I will enjoy the therapeutic value of pushing all those needles into the wool as a means of releasing tension. As for our book, we will relish in the satisfaction given us by "the fad" as long as it is to be.

A Picture Is Worth A Few Years

Monday night is the high school soccer banquet. One of the traditions is to present a slide show with pictures of the graduating seniors. Each parent is asked to submit 7 or 8 pictures of their child. This is a lot harder that I thought it would be. How do you represent 17 or 18 years of life in a few images? I decided that I wanted to show the side of Brooke that not everyone knows. I wanted pictures of her doing things other than playing soccer. But which ones should I use?

In going through the boxes of photos (because I have never been organized enough to get them into albums) I came across those very first pictures. You know the ones in the hospital where the baby looks great and mom looks like shit. Scratch those. Then there are the ones in the cute little infant clothes that the kid only wore once. Nah. I knew the bathtub pictures were a "no go".

I finally settled on the following infant picture. I knew that after about age two, Brooke stopped smiling for pictures. I figured that I had better get one while the getting was good.

The Brooke that everyone knows now is the sarcastic, somewhat cynical kid. I chose the next picture because no one would ever believe her to be a clown.

Even when only three, Brooke had a fondness for cooking. I suspect that even back then we were willing to eat what she made.

The next picture was taken in the mountains of New Mexico. Brooke is holding an injured baby hummingbird. We did nurse it back to health and set it free. This was her first step to becoming a full fledged member of PETA.

Since about age 8, Brooke has been a soccer keeper. So, I had to include the obligatory goalie shot. Though I am a little sad that I will not get to see her play soccer anymore, I am very thankful that we made it through 13 years of soccer with no head injuries from colliding with the goal box and I no longer have to worry!

Brooke and Erin are remarkably close. I felt like I needed to include at least one picture of the two of them. This is Brooke's 8th grade graduation and Erin's 5th grade at Selwyn. It is also one of only two pictures that I have of Brooke dressed up. She cleans up pretty well bu this is a well kept secret.

I really did not want to use another soccer picture but Brooke made me take out the one where she had a mixing bowl on her head. . .probably because it was taken when she was 16, not 2.

Brooke wanted to include a picture with both of the dogs. Unfortunately it was very late at night and I had almost no battery left on my camera at the time so the choice of pictures was not good. I guess it gets the point across.

Notice that they all have on their Harley Davidson duds.

I know that most of you are not really interested in mom's brag book. Thanks for humoring me. I will leave you with one more picture. Needless to say, this one is not in the senior slide show.

Adidas is more willing to sit still for pictures than either Brooke or Harley.

Would You Like A Book With That?

Tonight was choir rehearsal night. If we are lucky, we do not have to come back to Denton to pick up the girls and then go back for rehearsal. Today we were lucky. So, in addition to some knitting time at the shop this afternoon and dinner out, we had time for a trip to Barnes and Noble while in Dallas. This is a favorite way to pass "unscheduled" time.

I got my cup of hot tea and brownie and sat down in the cafe to continue knitting on the bath mat that I started this afternoon. There were two gentlemen sitting at the table behind me. Usually I can tune out the conversations around me; however, this one caught my attention. I must confess that I spent the next few minutes eavesdropping.

These men were first trying to decipher all the different coffee drinks served in the cafe.
MAN 1: "Well, what is the difference between a cafe mocha and a mocha latte?"
MAN 2: "Maybe it is the amount of sugar. Or, how much espresso is in it.
MAN 1: "Does cafe mocha really have espresso?"
MAN 2: "I think so."
I don't think they were any more informed about the ingredients at the end than when they began their conversation. And, they never even got to the grande skinny mocha with a double.

Once they gave up on the coffee discussion, these guys turned to a sociological study of the people who frequent the bookstore. One of them said, "I think that people come in here, read the books, and then put them back on the shelves!" The other guy responded with amazement, "Really!" I thought, well, duh. In our family we refer to this as stealing words. Maybe so, but no one has ever been arrested for it as far as I know. I would hate to try and figure out the number of stolen words our "crime ring" has amassed. I don't feel too guilty though. I have paid for many books that are still on my shelf unread. So, I think we are even. Tonight I did buy the current issue of Spin Off - after thumbing through it first.

The next observation was that Barnes and Noble has free Wi-Fi. So, not only can people sit there and read books for free, they can surf the Internet at not cost as well. The gentlemen were quick to note that these people on the Internet don't even necessarily buy coffee.

All the data that these men collected led them to the conclusion that there is no way that Barnes and Noble could be a lucrative business - people don't buy the books, they don't order from the cafe, they just come in and take up space. They also observed that most of the people in the cafe at the time were men.

One of them finally came to the brilliant conclusion that Barnes and Noble must market primarily to women. The other agreed, "Yeah, I see women come in and buy stacks of fifteen books at once!" (I didn't realize I was being watched that closely) I am happy to believe that the female species is more well-read than their male counterparts, but I don't think that Barnes and Noble would be happy to know that they are perceived (by a few idiots) as a women's store. I guess I could consider it a compliment that these guys believe that women are more likely to read than men but, I know this is not true. The one man at my house is just as guilty of the stack of fifteen books at a time as I am. The only problem in our particular household is that there are three women so we outnumber his book buying 3 to 1.

I know that listening to the conversation of others is socially unacceptable, but this was just too entertaining. Maybe I am just easily amused. I hope that when people at the next table eavesdrop on our conversations that they find them a little more interesting and thought provoking.

I am fairly certain that the surrounding tables at the Mexican restaurant where our dinner conversation was initiated by my younger daughter asking, "If it is not OK for a girl to spend the night with her boyfriend but it is OK to spend the night with a girl friend, what are the rules if she is a lesbian?" Later in the meal she asked, "If you are bisexual, can you have a boyfriend and a girlfriend at the same time?" Be careful what you ask for Dr. Dobson. All those Republicans who think that the American family is disintegrating because families do not sit down together at the dinner table together should come share a meal with us. They might change their minds.

Right. This does assume that they have a mind to change. . . anothe topic that frequents our dinner table.

Mow, Mow, Mow the Grass

Despite the fact that we have just finished spring break, I must admit that it has not felt much like spring to me. Last week I was still wearing my heavy coat to soccer games. Everyone knows that the temperature in the stadium is always 20 degrees colder then it is any place else. But today, it felt like spring. In truth, this feeling did not have much to do with the weather. It was cool and misty, what some would call a dreary day. I taught until noon and then came home to mow the grass. The first mowing of the year makes it spring!

We have not had much rain though there has been enough to make the grass (pasture weeds?) grow. Mowing the grass in the country is a whole different thing than when we lived in town. First of all, it is four acres, three of which are not graded. And, no push mower for me, it is tractor time! If I could drive the thrill probably would not be so great but I can't, so it is.

As I start my trek around the yard, I begin to see the real signs of spring - a few wild flowers almost here, the early mesquite trees, the singing birds, all covered by a gentle spring mist. It was perfect.

I don't know why going around in circles on the lawn mower is such a cathartic activity and going in circles in the car, which is the theme song of my life, is so tiring. Granted, there is not a great deal of lawn mower traffic in the yard, but there are obstacles and perils here. For example, the branches on the trees seem to have grown - lower. Nothing that a little ducking can't fix. Remember the sprinkler heads for the septic system - I know they are out here somewhere. And then there is the array of dog toys that are scattered about. Adidas is on the deck thinking, "If you run over my Frisbee, I promise you that I will decorate with the kitchen trash." I also removed the ladder from the tree where Spencer had his adventure.

Being outside made me thankful for my surroundings. I love it out here in the country. The best part, no code enforcement to tell me that I have to mow; I can do it when I want to.

While I was riding around, I kept thinking of outdoor projects - the front beds need to be cleaned and planted, the (a) vegetable garden needs to be started, the trees need to be trimmed (I will have to hire someone to do this because I am not allowed to have my own pair of Alligator Jaws), other places in need of flowers called out to me - the possibilities are endless. So is the work, but that is OK.

It is still raining. This is a good thing. The stock pond across the fence needs water. I am glad for the rain water because Adidas likes to swim in this pond and it (he) has been smelling a bit undesirable. I would be more excited about the rain if I had already planted my gardens. Oh well . . .at least the ground will be soft when I get ready to dig.

I did haul the wet grass clippings to the compost bin. It too is in need of the moisture. If this is spring, I wish it would stay for a long while. I know that the hot summer sun will be here soon enough. But now, I am enjoying the smell of the fresh cut grass dressed with the warm spring rain. Spring is definitely in the air! Amen.