Well, I just went out and got the mail today and lo, there in our box were gox box sox from dbltall, along with the brand new Gox Box Sox HH (here's a pic of them at the Woolrich catalogue http://www.woolrich.com/CGI-BIN/LANSAWEB?WEBEVENT+L3D74537A45138000EA4303U+PRD+ENG)!
I was laughing like an idiot until I actually put them ON!
Oh...
...my...
...GOD!!!
These sox...I mean, SOCKS are AMAZING! They are SOOO on my list for boxing wear (and daily wear, really...after all, we're in upstate NY, where Winter goes for the winter...and summer...and spring break...and the vernal equinox...!). First, they're the right color (I LOVE blue and those wintry sweater type patterns). Second, they're merino wool, so they're warm AND soft and have this delightfully cushy feel to them everywhere I walk. I'm walking around barefoot in them now and making sounds that the Highlander normally associates with a different room of the house! And finally, they're MINE! Muhahahahahahhaaaaaaa!
I'm telling you, I'm going online to get more of these because I will TOTALLY PAY for this kinda sex...I mean, SOCKS! :-)
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Thursday, April 5, 2007
School Daze & True Love
I just gotta tell everyone what an awesome day Kevin and I had at my school. He's been subbing for folks in my building (including me...gotta love having the inside track on your kids when you're gone!), so we've been getting to hang out with each other at different points during the day. It's great because he's finally happy doing something he enjoys and I get to see the glow on his face all the time!
But today was a full day of pretty much everything I do that makes me proud to be a teacher. This morning we did our simulation of the Underground Railroad, where my 4th graders act as runaway slaves and every classroom in the building agrees to act as "stations" to harbor them (the cafeteria is Canada). We do a ton of journal entries on it and they have to answer a question from our chapter on the Underground Railroad to even get into the stations. I made this game up in the car on the way to school four years ago and now all the buildings in our district have done it at least once.
After lunch, we did our 1st Annual Retro Talent Show (thought that one up after listening to JACK FM on the way home a few months ago!). All the people that wanted to did a dance, lipsync or some other act to a song from the 70's or before. We had a bunch of kid acts, a group of parents who sang Movin' On Up for our 5th graders, the whole 5th grade doing Ain't No Mountain High Enough, me in the lion mascot costume as my class sang "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and nearly all the teachers did the Locomotion, which we did twice to get everyone out of the auditorium and back to class in time to pack up and leave at the end of the day.
Meanwhile, the kindergarten had their Easter parade right before the show; our principal, who was the MC, couldn't make it from his meeting at the board office until literally the last possible second before the show started, so the school band played Louie, Louie like 6 times waiting for him to start the show (thought the horn section was going to pass out!) and every class in the building was attempting to have some brand of Easter party at once, so kids were walking around the school handing out cupcakes and stuff while being all hopped up on sugar and general excitement before a week long Easter break.
And you know the best part? My hubby got to see it ALL. He had a half day in the afternoon for the 2nd grade class, so he helped be a "bounty hunter" for the slaves in the morning and taped the whole thing while sitting with his class in the audience that afternoon. Everything I do that I love and he finally had a day to be part of it.
They say that when you marry someone, they really don't become your WHOLE life. You merge your lives and share them with each other. Kevin means the world to me, but we both have things that make us who we are independent of each other. Getting married just means you get to share that with each other, which is the real blessing. :-)
But today was a full day of pretty much everything I do that makes me proud to be a teacher. This morning we did our simulation of the Underground Railroad, where my 4th graders act as runaway slaves and every classroom in the building agrees to act as "stations" to harbor them (the cafeteria is Canada). We do a ton of journal entries on it and they have to answer a question from our chapter on the Underground Railroad to even get into the stations. I made this game up in the car on the way to school four years ago and now all the buildings in our district have done it at least once.
After lunch, we did our 1st Annual Retro Talent Show (thought that one up after listening to JACK FM on the way home a few months ago!). All the people that wanted to did a dance, lipsync or some other act to a song from the 70's or before. We had a bunch of kid acts, a group of parents who sang Movin' On Up for our 5th graders, the whole 5th grade doing Ain't No Mountain High Enough, me in the lion mascot costume as my class sang "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and nearly all the teachers did the Locomotion, which we did twice to get everyone out of the auditorium and back to class in time to pack up and leave at the end of the day.
Meanwhile, the kindergarten had their Easter parade right before the show; our principal, who was the MC, couldn't make it from his meeting at the board office until literally the last possible second before the show started, so the school band played Louie, Louie like 6 times waiting for him to start the show (thought the horn section was going to pass out!) and every class in the building was attempting to have some brand of Easter party at once, so kids were walking around the school handing out cupcakes and stuff while being all hopped up on sugar and general excitement before a week long Easter break.
And you know the best part? My hubby got to see it ALL. He had a half day in the afternoon for the 2nd grade class, so he helped be a "bounty hunter" for the slaves in the morning and taped the whole thing while sitting with his class in the audience that afternoon. Everything I do that I love and he finally had a day to be part of it.
They say that when you marry someone, they really don't become your WHOLE life. You merge your lives and share them with each other. Kevin means the world to me, but we both have things that make us who we are independent of each other. Getting married just means you get to share that with each other, which is the real blessing. :-)
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Racism Rears Its Badly Dressed Head (again!)
This actually happened back in 2005 when I first started My Space, but I forgot to post it here...seems like something quite a few folks need to think about!
Here's the one downside to My Space...watching totally normally people go completely to the mental zoo just because they're connected to you online and you can't see them in person.
So one of these goofy kids (that only picked my profile AFTER I changed my pic from the maroon coat one to this one) has the nerve to ask me why a "blk" woman as fine as me is wasting her time on a white guy! Okay, first of all, you have to go check out young Jason's profile (not the one I still have on my friends' list, but the one kid from Ohio). How does any kid dressed like Tupac the Musical have ANY right to tell me what is and what isn't a waste of my time??? Here was my reply:
Oh, honey...I hate to ask you, but who do you think you ARE??? :-)
Have you any idea how insulting this question is? How would you feel if some white guy asked the girls you've got listed as friends the same question? Is their association with you a waste of THEIR fine whiteness or something?
You post some pic lookin' like Thug Lite, then pop in and tell me how good I look, THEN you want to tell me how I'm wasting MY life??? Seems to me I read in YOUR profile that you HAD no racial preference...plus, the only black girl on your profile IS me, so what's the deal? It's obvious from your pic that you aren't looking for much more than a warm wet hole, so why does it matter to you where I get my real love from?
I really had hoped for a little better from you and was giving you a chance to show you were a young brother with a mind, but I guess I should have known you had a shallow streak when you added me to your friends list because I was "fine". What my husband and I have had for the past 9 years is something beautiful that I don't expect you could understand, despite your claims to be educated in your profile. Has it occured to you that that kind of "playa" talk is EXACTLY what's turning young men like yourself into soon to be lonely OLD men? There's not a black woman in the world that'll put up with that kinda talk...I mean, does your OWN mother appreciate hearing that's she's fine and that sort of thing?
Furthermore, it's a LOVE thing that he and I have, not a lust thing. I didn't know WHAT he looked liked when we first began talking and I'm glad I didn't now. I would have missed one helluva a man (in more ways than one, playa) if I had gone on mere looks.
In this day and age, you need to ask yourself are you really concerned about racial integrity, or are you just playing the same game that old men of all colors seem to play...the "they can't fuck OUR women, but we can fuck THEIRS" game. Neither one makes you look too bright, just bigoted.
Take me off your friends list, hon...I gotta play deeper than looks, okay?
D.
Now, Kevin thought this was pretty funny, 'cause he knew I was going to give this boy an earful (plus for him, the comment was too stupid to even take notice, like someone calling you Lucy from across the room in a really mean voice), but I'm not sure which is sadder, the fact that the poor kid thinks I'm somehow diluting our race or the fact that there's a LOT of guys who think the same thing. They can't do OUR women! Now, I'll hit any skins that run by, but those OTHER guys...THEY can only do their OWN race. The more things change, the more they stay the same...
Forgive me, but I'm blown away by what passes for depth on these sites, I swear. Does everyone come to these sites to hide who they really are or to make themselves feel better than everyone else? It's like high school all over again!
Political Chain Mail???
So I recently got this as one of those chain mail things:
A lady wrote the best letter in the editorials in ages!!! It explains things better than all the baloney you hear on TV.
Her point:
Recently large demonstrations have taken place across the country protesting the fact that Congress is finally addressing the issue of illegal immigration.
Certain people are angry that the US might protect its own borders, might make it harder to sneak into this country and, once here, to stay indefinitely.
Let me see if I correctly understand the thinking behind these protests.
Let's say I break into your ho use.
Let's say that when you discover me in your house, you insist that I leave.
But I say, "I've made all the beds and washed the dishes and did the laundry and swept the floors.
I've done all the things you don't like to do.
I'm hard-working and honest (except for when I broke into your house).
According to the protesters:
You are Required to let me stay in your house
You are Required to add me to your family's insurance plan
You are Required to Educate my kids
You are Required to Provide other benefits to me and to my family
(my husband will do all of your yard work because he is also hard-working and honest, except for that breaking in part).
If you try to call the police or force me out, I will call my friends who will picket your house carrying signs that proclaim my RIGHT to be there.
It's only fair, after all, because you have a nicer house than I do, and I'm just trying to better myself.
I'm a hard-working and honest, person, except for well, you know, I did break into your house.
And what a deal it is for me!!!
I live in your house, contributing only a fraction of the cost of my keep, and there is nothing you can do about it without being accused of cold, uncaring, selfish, prejudiced, and bigoted behavior.
Oh yeah, I DEMAND that you learn MY LANGUAGE!!! so you can communicate with me.
Why can't people see how ridiculous this is?! Only in America ...if you agree, pass it on (in English). Share it if you see the value of it.
If not blow it off......... along with your future Social Security funds, and a lot of other things
This is the kind of stuff that just makes me sad. Americans really have no clue sometimes. We just think everything is just ours and we have no sense of responsibility to anyone but ourselves (and not even always ourselves…how well do we take care of those suffering in THIS country?). We think of ourselves as decent God fearing Christians and then we say stuff like this, forgetting that God did NOT just create us, he created a whole world of people around us that he loves just as much.
Rants like these are basically the pot calling the kettle black. You gotta remember, at some point, we ALL broke into this particular house, which originally belonged to Native Americans (with the exception of Africans, who basically got dragged along for the break-in and told to stay put!) :-) If we go by this editorial, then what we've done is broken in to the front room of the house, then slowly but surely moved into all parts of the house, forcing the owners into the basement. We slowly killed off most of the members of the owners family and got upset when they fought back, then rewrote the rules to exclude others from breaking in, too. We took ALL the benefits and all the opportunities and didn't leave the owners anything but our leftovers. Sound fair? I think if we were willing to essentially recreate the rules for our ancestors, then we have no choice but to do the same for our children. Otherwise, we need to go all the way back and correct the original problem and ALL go home to whatever country of origin we had and let the Native Americans deal with how their Mexican neighbors react.
Plus, it's always amazing to me that we're willing to help people in other countries escape starvation and tyranny (heck, we'll fight for them and bring them food free of charge and EVERYTHING), but we're not willing to let people right next door come over and actually WORK for the same benefit. If we're going to play pick and choose, why not pick and choose to the greater benefit?
By the way, a recent news article mentioned that the KKK was getting all new membership because of people who agreed with this sort of stuff (http://www.bizjournals.com/phoenix/stories/2007/03/12/daily25.html?from_rss=1)
Always nice to hear that evil’s benefiting from our natural greed and stupidity…
A lady wrote the best letter in the editorials in ages!!! It explains things better than all the baloney you hear on TV.
Her point:
Recently large demonstrations have taken place across the country protesting the fact that Congress is finally addressing the issue of illegal immigration.
Certain people are angry that the US might protect its own borders, might make it harder to sneak into this country and, once here, to stay indefinitely.
Let me see if I correctly understand the thinking behind these protests.
Let's say I break into your ho use.
Let's say that when you discover me in your house, you insist that I leave.
But I say, "I've made all the beds and washed the dishes and did the laundry and swept the floors.
I've done all the things you don't like to do.
I'm hard-working and honest (except for when I broke into your house).
According to the protesters:
You are Required to let me stay in your house
You are Required to add me to your family's insurance plan
You are Required to Educate my kids
You are Required to Provide other benefits to me and to my family
(my husband will do all of your yard work because he is also hard-working and honest, except for that breaking in part).
If you try to call the police or force me out, I will call my friends who will picket your house carrying signs that proclaim my RIGHT to be there.
It's only fair, after all, because you have a nicer house than I do, and I'm just trying to better myself.
I'm a hard-working and honest, person, except for well, you know, I did break into your house.
And what a deal it is for me!!!
I live in your house, contributing only a fraction of the cost of my keep, and there is nothing you can do about it without being accused of cold, uncaring, selfish, prejudiced, and bigoted behavior.
Oh yeah, I DEMAND that you learn MY LANGUAGE!!! so you can communicate with me.
Why can't people see how ridiculous this is?! Only in America ...if you agree, pass it on (in English). Share it if you see the value of it.
If not blow it off......... along with your future Social Security funds, and a lot of other things
This is the kind of stuff that just makes me sad. Americans really have no clue sometimes. We just think everything is just ours and we have no sense of responsibility to anyone but ourselves (and not even always ourselves…how well do we take care of those suffering in THIS country?). We think of ourselves as decent God fearing Christians and then we say stuff like this, forgetting that God did NOT just create us, he created a whole world of people around us that he loves just as much.
Rants like these are basically the pot calling the kettle black. You gotta remember, at some point, we ALL broke into this particular house, which originally belonged to Native Americans (with the exception of Africans, who basically got dragged along for the break-in and told to stay put!) :-) If we go by this editorial, then what we've done is broken in to the front room of the house, then slowly but surely moved into all parts of the house, forcing the owners into the basement. We slowly killed off most of the members of the owners family and got upset when they fought back, then rewrote the rules to exclude others from breaking in, too. We took ALL the benefits and all the opportunities and didn't leave the owners anything but our leftovers. Sound fair? I think if we were willing to essentially recreate the rules for our ancestors, then we have no choice but to do the same for our children. Otherwise, we need to go all the way back and correct the original problem and ALL go home to whatever country of origin we had and let the Native Americans deal with how their Mexican neighbors react.
Plus, it's always amazing to me that we're willing to help people in other countries escape starvation and tyranny (heck, we'll fight for them and bring them food free of charge and EVERYTHING), but we're not willing to let people right next door come over and actually WORK for the same benefit. If we're going to play pick and choose, why not pick and choose to the greater benefit?
By the way, a recent news article mentioned that the KKK was getting all new membership because of people who agreed with this sort of stuff (http://www.bizjournals.com/phoenix/stories/2007/03/12/daily25.html?from_rss=1)
Always nice to hear that evil’s benefiting from our natural greed and stupidity…
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Herobia
WHAT THE HAPPY HARPY HADES is THAT ABOUT??? WE GOTTA WAIT UNTIL APRIL FOR MORE HEROES???
SERIOUSLY!!!!!!
The Highlander was immediately like "They're gonna lose viewers like this. Who the heck is gonna watch it THEN???"
That's when I sighed and said, "We are and you KNOW it."
God, we're so hooked...I swear we're going to need rehab after this...
The CLAIRE Center ad:
Do you religiously watch Heroes?
Do you suffer from anxiety whether the show is on or not?
Do you experience moderate or severe depression when the show goes off?
Do you worry about whether New York City will be blown up by a man that no one can see?
Do you unconsciously shy away from cheerleaders, Japanese tourists, clock repairmen and Haitians?
If so, you are one of the millions of people who suffer from Herobia. However, there IS hope...
At the Clinic for Longterm Anxiety Issues Related to Excitement (CLAIRE), we help you take back your Monday nights and survive the week long torture associated with waiting for the next episode of Heroes to come on. Our teams of experts will work with you to find out what makes you tick so you don't feel explosive or suicidal after yet another amazing plot twist. Then, with just a simple injection, you will never feel those anxious moments again.
Don't just wait for special powers to make it all go away...come see us at CLAIRE and turn Herobia back into just another Monday night TV show. CLAIRE is located in the back of the Primatech Building. Just ask for Mr. Bennet or call 1-800-CHARLIE to make an appointment. If you can't come to us, call 1-800-HEY-SYLR for a quick and easy house call!
Disclaimer: Side effects may include forgetfulness, inability to keep metal objects solid, difficulty being seen, inability to maintain normal gravity, sensitivity to sound, extreme heat, sudden internet access, fear of Frenchmen, golden retriever headed children, fear of horned-rimmed glasses, a desire to investigate paper mills, a desire to rescue cheerleaders, inability to maintain cranial consistency, and a strange equal sign shaped birthmark after first visit. CLAIRE is not responsible for any possible birth defects or mutations that may occur. See your doctor before attempting to visit CLAIRE.
SERIOUSLY!!!!!!
The Highlander was immediately like "They're gonna lose viewers like this. Who the heck is gonna watch it THEN???"
That's when I sighed and said, "We are and you KNOW it."
God, we're so hooked...I swear we're going to need rehab after this...
The CLAIRE Center ad:
Do you religiously watch Heroes?
Do you suffer from anxiety whether the show is on or not?
Do you experience moderate or severe depression when the show goes off?
Do you worry about whether New York City will be blown up by a man that no one can see?
Do you unconsciously shy away from cheerleaders, Japanese tourists, clock repairmen and Haitians?
If so, you are one of the millions of people who suffer from Herobia. However, there IS hope...
At the Clinic for Longterm Anxiety Issues Related to Excitement (CLAIRE), we help you take back your Monday nights and survive the week long torture associated with waiting for the next episode of Heroes to come on. Our teams of experts will work with you to find out what makes you tick so you don't feel explosive or suicidal after yet another amazing plot twist. Then, with just a simple injection, you will never feel those anxious moments again.
Don't just wait for special powers to make it all go away...come see us at CLAIRE and turn Herobia back into just another Monday night TV show. CLAIRE is located in the back of the Primatech Building. Just ask for Mr. Bennet or call 1-800-CHARLIE to make an appointment. If you can't come to us, call 1-800-HEY-SYLR for a quick and easy house call!
Disclaimer: Side effects may include forgetfulness, inability to keep metal objects solid, difficulty being seen, inability to maintain normal gravity, sensitivity to sound, extreme heat, sudden internet access, fear of Frenchmen, golden retriever headed children, fear of horned-rimmed glasses, a desire to investigate paper mills, a desire to rescue cheerleaders, inability to maintain cranial consistency, and a strange equal sign shaped birthmark after first visit. CLAIRE is not responsible for any possible birth defects or mutations that may occur. See your doctor before attempting to visit CLAIRE.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Connection...
I'm delighted to say I have talked to my grandmother more times in the past two months than I have talked to her in the previous 37 years.
Alright, that's probably a major exaggeration, but I really am happy about it. My dad's mother is the one family member of that generation that I could turn to and say, for better or worse, that I am VERY much like. I have her ability to tell a story as well as her ability to stretch the honest truth. I possess her desire to take care of people, which also leads into that secret desire for others to return the same sort of affection. She and I both talk a good game and don't ever seem to STOP talking. I could go on and on, but when I look at her, I see all my heritage, the craziness, the love of those long wild trips to the coast, the need for social interaction and the sudden need to be alone with a good book (and the need to be alone so that someone can say, "Come be with me instead of hanging around here alone!") I'm all those things wrapped up in a shorter, darker skinned package (except the hair that I added on, which I did take off later, but I REALLY still like the picture!).
This all started when my mother's mother Lucy (the one we called Granny) passed. Granny was the serious one, the grandmother that made you listen to her and made you behave and didn't give you everything you wanted, so you grew to love her later in life. My other grandmother, Lula (Shug, as we called her) was the "fun" grandma that bought you things and gave you money and never really spanked you until she'd just lost it. Between the two of them, we had a full parent when we went to visit. Shug would play with you and Granny would do the disciplining.
As we got older, we started to really understand Granny more and heard less from Shug, who was doing a lot with other family members that were ill or needed support. We began to appreciate the effort that Granny had put into us as much as the fun that Shug had had with us. My parents (who were in better shape financially as my brother and I got older) started having Granny fly in for visits more often while Shug was out of town with her brothers and sisters. I created a different, but equal strong bond with Granny that stemmed from her connection with her daughter and my understanding of that circle. But Granny had emphysema and was in and out of hospice for quite a while in 2006 until she finally stopped eating and slipped away at the end of August. I think a little piece of all of us went with her. My mother, of course, lost her mother, but my father lost a close friend in Lucy, and I lost a connection to quite a few things, not the least of which was understanding the place I hold in the continuing mother-daughter cycle.
Meanwhile, Shug, who had always been in supremely good health (walking miles was never an issue for her) was losing her independence after having fallen and hurt herself some months before. When the younger Granny passed, Shug suddenly realized that time was slipping away from HER, too. The family members she'd nutured and taken care of had began to pass on or, in the case of the younger generation, leave her behind the way we tend to do with our older relatives. We stop listening, stop coming and then stop caring.
Living farther away, I was able to appreciate both women and what they meant in my life, so I was constantly inviting them to my home and visiting when I could afford it. Granny could never have made it to my place (she was VERY allergic to cats and her emphysema wouldn't have let her do more than stand outside this home) but Shug always had reasons. They usually consisted of someone else that she had to go help or be with and it took me quite a while before I realized why. She spent her whole life doing for others in the vague hope that they would someday do for her. It made her feel good to help other family members and people, but it also made her feel needed and therefore loved. I don't think she really knew what to do with a grandchild that only wanted to have her come so she could enjoy her company and take care of her, not force her to cook or watch children or even get out of bed if she didn't want to. Kevin and I were more than willing to let Shug just BE here and share with her the places we loved. Even when we went to see HER in Florida, I think it was a shock to have us washing dishes and feeding ourselves and even buying her a new car battery and changing it out when it died.
Anyway, she came to stay with us for the Christmas holiday and we had a ball. We didn't even do something every day...there were days when we all three just sat in the house and read books to ourselves, but didn't say a word to each other. We hauled her all over creation when we DID go out...took her to the wildlife refuge (where she and Kevin just about married each other in their love of the outdoors and the wildlands!), we took her to Toronto for a two day trip and we even drove her around town to some of the closer places to look at (being Native American herself, she marveled at the two refuges within driving distance of us). She REALLY wanted to see snow, but in a bizarre twist, the Buffalo area had no snow the last few weeks of December.
And now she's calling us about twice a month. It's really nice hearing from her, actually. It's this connection to my past that I really am starting to treasure more and more now that I live so far from my family of origin. She did show me one thing while she was here that I found incredibly upsetting. Because of her health issues (bad vertigo, major hearing loss and even some memory issues) she'd made up a little card that she was very proud of. It said "My name is Lula (last name omitted here) and I live at (address omitted). If I am found, please contact my granddaughter in New York at..." and then she had listed our names and addresses, as well as my cousins in our hometown and all the other pertinent info needed to make sure she didn't end up lost somewhere. At 5'8", my grandmother had always been this imposing, yet friendly Amazon of a Native American princess to me. To see her suddenly reduced to...well, a senior citizen, was nearly more than I could stand. She wanted me to tell her if it all looked good and would make sense to a stranger that might read it and I had to tell her a story about something in my eye while Kevin read the card for me.
I had a tough time for a little while after that...I FINALLY had her, only to realize I was that much close to losing her. Funny how just when you think you've got all the pieces of the puzzle in place, you suddenly look under the rug and find some TOTALLY different piece that obviously fits into the same puzzle and you have to readjust...
Still, I'm glad to have her back in my life and I hope we get her back up here once more. Nothing in the world is funnier than a grandmother who can tell terrible stories with your husband...not sure which was worse, his dried apricot story or her fresh coconut story (for the general jist of both stories, try eating your fill of either of these and see what happens)!
Alright, that's probably a major exaggeration, but I really am happy about it. My dad's mother is the one family member of that generation that I could turn to and say, for better or worse, that I am VERY much like. I have her ability to tell a story as well as her ability to stretch the honest truth. I possess her desire to take care of people, which also leads into that secret desire for others to return the same sort of affection. She and I both talk a good game and don't ever seem to STOP talking. I could go on and on, but when I look at her, I see all my heritage, the craziness, the love of those long wild trips to the coast, the need for social interaction and the sudden need to be alone with a good book (and the need to be alone so that someone can say, "Come be with me instead of hanging around here alone!") I'm all those things wrapped up in a shorter, darker skinned package (except the hair that I added on, which I did take off later, but I REALLY still like the picture!).
This all started when my mother's mother Lucy (the one we called Granny) passed. Granny was the serious one, the grandmother that made you listen to her and made you behave and didn't give you everything you wanted, so you grew to love her later in life. My other grandmother, Lula (Shug, as we called her) was the "fun" grandma that bought you things and gave you money and never really spanked you until she'd just lost it. Between the two of them, we had a full parent when we went to visit. Shug would play with you and Granny would do the disciplining.
As we got older, we started to really understand Granny more and heard less from Shug, who was doing a lot with other family members that were ill or needed support. We began to appreciate the effort that Granny had put into us as much as the fun that Shug had had with us. My parents (who were in better shape financially as my brother and I got older) started having Granny fly in for visits more often while Shug was out of town with her brothers and sisters. I created a different, but equal strong bond with Granny that stemmed from her connection with her daughter and my understanding of that circle. But Granny had emphysema and was in and out of hospice for quite a while in 2006 until she finally stopped eating and slipped away at the end of August. I think a little piece of all of us went with her. My mother, of course, lost her mother, but my father lost a close friend in Lucy, and I lost a connection to quite a few things, not the least of which was understanding the place I hold in the continuing mother-daughter cycle.
Meanwhile, Shug, who had always been in supremely good health (walking miles was never an issue for her) was losing her independence after having fallen and hurt herself some months before. When the younger Granny passed, Shug suddenly realized that time was slipping away from HER, too. The family members she'd nutured and taken care of had began to pass on or, in the case of the younger generation, leave her behind the way we tend to do with our older relatives. We stop listening, stop coming and then stop caring.
Living farther away, I was able to appreciate both women and what they meant in my life, so I was constantly inviting them to my home and visiting when I could afford it. Granny could never have made it to my place (she was VERY allergic to cats and her emphysema wouldn't have let her do more than stand outside this home) but Shug always had reasons. They usually consisted of someone else that she had to go help or be with and it took me quite a while before I realized why. She spent her whole life doing for others in the vague hope that they would someday do for her. It made her feel good to help other family members and people, but it also made her feel needed and therefore loved. I don't think she really knew what to do with a grandchild that only wanted to have her come so she could enjoy her company and take care of her, not force her to cook or watch children or even get out of bed if she didn't want to. Kevin and I were more than willing to let Shug just BE here and share with her the places we loved. Even when we went to see HER in Florida, I think it was a shock to have us washing dishes and feeding ourselves and even buying her a new car battery and changing it out when it died.
Anyway, she came to stay with us for the Christmas holiday and we had a ball. We didn't even do something every day...there were days when we all three just sat in the house and read books to ourselves, but didn't say a word to each other. We hauled her all over creation when we DID go out...took her to the wildlife refuge (where she and Kevin just about married each other in their love of the outdoors and the wildlands!), we took her to Toronto for a two day trip and we even drove her around town to some of the closer places to look at (being Native American herself, she marveled at the two refuges within driving distance of us). She REALLY wanted to see snow, but in a bizarre twist, the Buffalo area had no snow the last few weeks of December.
And now she's calling us about twice a month. It's really nice hearing from her, actually. It's this connection to my past that I really am starting to treasure more and more now that I live so far from my family of origin. She did show me one thing while she was here that I found incredibly upsetting. Because of her health issues (bad vertigo, major hearing loss and even some memory issues) she'd made up a little card that she was very proud of. It said "My name is Lula (last name omitted here) and I live at (address omitted). If I am found, please contact my granddaughter in New York at..." and then she had listed our names and addresses, as well as my cousins in our hometown and all the other pertinent info needed to make sure she didn't end up lost somewhere. At 5'8", my grandmother had always been this imposing, yet friendly Amazon of a Native American princess to me. To see her suddenly reduced to...well, a senior citizen, was nearly more than I could stand. She wanted me to tell her if it all looked good and would make sense to a stranger that might read it and I had to tell her a story about something in my eye while Kevin read the card for me.
I had a tough time for a little while after that...I FINALLY had her, only to realize I was that much close to losing her. Funny how just when you think you've got all the pieces of the puzzle in place, you suddenly look under the rug and find some TOTALLY different piece that obviously fits into the same puzzle and you have to readjust...
Still, I'm glad to have her back in my life and I hope we get her back up here once more. Nothing in the world is funnier than a grandmother who can tell terrible stories with your husband...not sure which was worse, his dried apricot story or her fresh coconut story (for the general jist of both stories, try eating your fill of either of these and see what happens)!
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Glurge and Christmas Cards
Glurge is what the Urban Legends website calls any of those heart wrenching stories that people stuff your e-mail box with. Each story usually ends with something like "and that little handicapped boy grew up to be...Winston Churchill" or "and that small act of kindness saved his life all those years ago" or "So cherish these moments with your loved ones...you might not get another chance"!
This would all be well and good if not for two problems. First, these always end with some huge guilt trip, like "You can keep this and pretend it meant nothing to you or send it on to others and make a difference", or "I love you enough to send it to you....will you send it back to me?" It almost FORCES you to send it back to someone like your boss or someone you really might NOT be that close with (not unlike Christmas cards!). Worse yet is the ones that flat out TELL you that it's a chain mail, completely destroying ANY attempt at being a life changing, sentimental note. Real affection would be shown by you calling me up and telling me this story, not by forwarding it on and on to other e-mail addresses. Trust me, I won't think less of you for keeping this gem until we get together personally! :-)
The second thing that makes these hard to stomach is the fact that EVERYONE sends them over and over as forwards to tons of friends instead of copying it into a more personal individual e-mail or at least adding a personal note to me to explain why you sent it. This falls into the category of Christmas cards, too. I don't mind when folks actually WRITE in their cards, but when you just send me a card with nothing more than a quick signature, especially when I have heard from you in months or more, then I know that I'm just another one of the folks on your card list. I don't mind the family picture cards ('cause those update me visually on how you are) and general holiday newsletters (because those give me info, too, even though it's for everyone and not just me). Heck, I can even take e-mail cards, as long as you SAY a little something in them. But Christmas cards with a quick "Love, the Franklin Family" just end up in the garbage later. They're like chain e-mails...I'm on your list, so I get one, but other than that, there's no real thought in them at all
So, how do you get around this? Don't send me the whole story. E-mail me (or call) with your summarized version of the story so I know what YOU got out of it. When my students bring me a book report that pretty much just has the exact Cliff Notes version of the book, I give them an F. When they personally tell me what they thought of the book and what they got out of it, they get A's. It shows they took the time to really understand the story and that's what make other kids learn from it and want to find out more. As adults, we could do the same. If you really want someone to benefit from an uplifting story, don't chain mail it. Relate it to that person you care about and they'll relate a LOT better to you.
This would all be well and good if not for two problems. First, these always end with some huge guilt trip, like "You can keep this and pretend it meant nothing to you or send it on to others and make a difference", or "I love you enough to send it to you....will you send it back to me?" It almost FORCES you to send it back to someone like your boss or someone you really might NOT be that close with (not unlike Christmas cards!). Worse yet is the ones that flat out TELL you that it's a chain mail, completely destroying ANY attempt at being a life changing, sentimental note. Real affection would be shown by you calling me up and telling me this story, not by forwarding it on and on to other e-mail addresses. Trust me, I won't think less of you for keeping this gem until we get together personally! :-)
The second thing that makes these hard to stomach is the fact that EVERYONE sends them over and over as forwards to tons of friends instead of copying it into a more personal individual e-mail or at least adding a personal note to me to explain why you sent it. This falls into the category of Christmas cards, too. I don't mind when folks actually WRITE in their cards, but when you just send me a card with nothing more than a quick signature, especially when I have heard from you in months or more, then I know that I'm just another one of the folks on your card list. I don't mind the family picture cards ('cause those update me visually on how you are) and general holiday newsletters (because those give me info, too, even though it's for everyone and not just me). Heck, I can even take e-mail cards, as long as you SAY a little something in them. But Christmas cards with a quick "Love, the Franklin Family" just end up in the garbage later. They're like chain e-mails...I'm on your list, so I get one, but other than that, there's no real thought in them at all
So, how do you get around this? Don't send me the whole story. E-mail me (or call) with your summarized version of the story so I know what YOU got out of it. When my students bring me a book report that pretty much just has the exact Cliff Notes version of the book, I give them an F. When they personally tell me what they thought of the book and what they got out of it, they get A's. It shows they took the time to really understand the story and that's what make other kids learn from it and want to find out more. As adults, we could do the same. If you really want someone to benefit from an uplifting story, don't chain mail it. Relate it to that person you care about and they'll relate a LOT better to you.
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