Almost time to go on my next big adventure. I have reached that point where nothing really stands between me and the airport. I have packed everything (and triple-checked it). I have my itinerary, my passport, and all other necessities to travel with me. I have books, crosswords, and a journal to keep me occupied. I am experiencing both waves of excitement and anxiety, but it isn't an altogether unpleasant feeling. I will do my best to get some sleep tonight, but I have a feeling that about 2:00 a.m., I will roll over and realize that time has slowed to a crawl, and that I have a long night ahead of me.
Now, all I have to do is make sure that everything goes fairly smoothly--for some reason, I figure if I can at least get to Europe, I'll be good to go. :) No long layovers this trip (two hours maximum, which in airport time is not much at all any more), so hopefully no real delays between connecting flights. I guess right now that is my biggest worry. Silly, when you think about it.
Anyway, hopefully, the next time I post, I will have way too many photos to share and so many fun stories to tell, it will be at least a month until I talk about something else...(well, I probably will throw in a few other stories in between, but yeah, consider yourself warned!)
Wishing you all a happy, safe Memorial Day weekend, and hoping that you too find adventure and relaxation!
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Today Over Lunch...
How did you spend your lunch hour today? Were you, like me, obsessively checking the weather, waiting to see whether or not your city was going to be hit by a tornado? No? Thank goodness. Because, seriously, it isn't a whole lot of fun.
I was coming back to my desk after a meeting, intending to check my email and then perhaps take a brief walk to Crown Center or Union Station (all of which, conveniently, are linked by an indoor walkway to avoid the rainI knew had been predicted). I had already heard words swirling around about possible tornado sightings, but somehow I had convinced myself that it was just nervous chatter sparked from the devastating weather of the past few days. However, as I was about thirty feet from my desk, our security team got on the loud speaker, ordering everyone to their "safe location" immediately. Having no clue where this "safe location" really was, I hurried back to where my co-workers were gathering their things, preparing to head to the stairwell.
We hadn't move more than five feet when other people began streaming in hordes into the lounge area outside our cubicles. Turns out, we were already located in our safe location, which in some ways was convenient since at least I had my computer to pass the time. As our area filled with displaced employees, I tried hard to figure out what I should do. I admit feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach, worried that perhaps something horrible was about to happen but not really convinced of the severity of the situation. The benefit of being so far into the bowels of the building is the safety, but it certainly makes you feel like you are in a cave, unable to see what is coming your way. Granted, my actual observation of the weather conditions would have been of little value, but there is something about having to see to believe, and without visual confirmation, I was having trouble grasping just how serious it might be. (I also tend to mitigate the danger of certain situations...)
I called home to make sure my grandmother was aware of what was going on outside, I said a little prayer asking for protection for friends, family, and all those in the path of these storms, and then I had nothing else to do but worry and wait. There wasn't much to gather from the tv stations' web sites, and having the added comfort of being surrounded by co-workers (one thing I did know as the security announcement began to resound was that I certainly did not want to be alone...I wanted to be around people), I did what I do best--I worked. It was a bit half-hearted, but focusing on emails and requests made it possible to ignore the gnawing in my stomach. It got me through the half hour or so we were under a tornado warning, and when the news reported that some damage had occurred but no reports of any deaths, I sighed a breath of relief. I felt a little on edge the rest of the afternoon, but needlessly so. The rest of the day has been quiet, and tomorrow looks like a brighter day.
There have been too many tragedies in the past few days to be ready for another onslaught of casualties. Many of us are still reeling from the devastation of Joplin, only a few hours south of KC. The response from the people in this area to provide relief and support has been astonishing--blood centers have reached capacity, tons of supplies being donated, people providing their skills and expertise--and it serves as a wonderful reminder of human kindness and resiliency. But, in times where it seems like one thing after another, we reach a point of exhaustion, and for some reason, I feel we (as a society) are nearing that point. Thank goodness our resolve wasn't put further to the test today. While I would like to believe that no matter what happens, I and those around me would find a way to press on, I admit that I don't mind not having to prove that point through personal experience. But, for those who are living this as a reality, I will do what I can to make it easier, and pray that they find relief and comfort during this challenging time.
I was coming back to my desk after a meeting, intending to check my email and then perhaps take a brief walk to Crown Center or Union Station (all of which, conveniently, are linked by an indoor walkway to avoid the rainI knew had been predicted). I had already heard words swirling around about possible tornado sightings, but somehow I had convinced myself that it was just nervous chatter sparked from the devastating weather of the past few days. However, as I was about thirty feet from my desk, our security team got on the loud speaker, ordering everyone to their "safe location" immediately. Having no clue where this "safe location" really was, I hurried back to where my co-workers were gathering their things, preparing to head to the stairwell.
We hadn't move more than five feet when other people began streaming in hordes into the lounge area outside our cubicles. Turns out, we were already located in our safe location, which in some ways was convenient since at least I had my computer to pass the time. As our area filled with displaced employees, I tried hard to figure out what I should do. I admit feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach, worried that perhaps something horrible was about to happen but not really convinced of the severity of the situation. The benefit of being so far into the bowels of the building is the safety, but it certainly makes you feel like you are in a cave, unable to see what is coming your way. Granted, my actual observation of the weather conditions would have been of little value, but there is something about having to see to believe, and without visual confirmation, I was having trouble grasping just how serious it might be. (I also tend to mitigate the danger of certain situations...)
I called home to make sure my grandmother was aware of what was going on outside, I said a little prayer asking for protection for friends, family, and all those in the path of these storms, and then I had nothing else to do but worry and wait. There wasn't much to gather from the tv stations' web sites, and having the added comfort of being surrounded by co-workers (one thing I did know as the security announcement began to resound was that I certainly did not want to be alone...I wanted to be around people), I did what I do best--I worked. It was a bit half-hearted, but focusing on emails and requests made it possible to ignore the gnawing in my stomach. It got me through the half hour or so we were under a tornado warning, and when the news reported that some damage had occurred but no reports of any deaths, I sighed a breath of relief. I felt a little on edge the rest of the afternoon, but needlessly so. The rest of the day has been quiet, and tomorrow looks like a brighter day.
There have been too many tragedies in the past few days to be ready for another onslaught of casualties. Many of us are still reeling from the devastation of Joplin, only a few hours south of KC. The response from the people in this area to provide relief and support has been astonishing--blood centers have reached capacity, tons of supplies being donated, people providing their skills and expertise--and it serves as a wonderful reminder of human kindness and resiliency. But, in times where it seems like one thing after another, we reach a point of exhaustion, and for some reason, I feel we (as a society) are nearing that point. Thank goodness our resolve wasn't put further to the test today. While I would like to believe that no matter what happens, I and those around me would find a way to press on, I admit that I don't mind not having to prove that point through personal experience. But, for those who are living this as a reality, I will do what I can to make it easier, and pray that they find relief and comfort during this challenging time.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Tossing and Turning
The last rumblings of thunder are fading into the background as the latest round of storms passes through. I wish I could say I had slept through the entire thing, but as I have been for the past three nights, I am wide awake, thinking of nothing in particular yet finding sleep escaping me. I am not a stranger to these sleepless nights, but they never get easier to get through. And I should make it clear that inevitably I will get three or four hours of sleep. It is just falling asleep that can be rough.
That said, though, overall it has been a fabulous day. I finally made my shopping trip, which even I have to admit was far more successful than I had hoped. It was one of those rare days where I felt okay going into the changing room (normally, I feel too lazy to do so), and even better, actually like how things looked on me. I found myself gravitating to a wide array of extremely feminine styles, which I have noticed happening the older I am. I swear that if I could pull the look off, I would spend much of my time in long, flowing dresses or loose peasant tops and jeans. Kind of that nouveau-bohemian/hippie look. The look on me is still a bit too disconcerting for me to go ahead and buy the clothes, but it was fun to try on a few things that would have added some variety to my wardrobe. Perhaps I can gradually introduce some pieces and see where it leads to from there. As it stands, I had to pry myself away from the store so my bank account wouldn't take an even bigger hit than it was already going to sustain for my minimal purchases.
I am plotting out my day for tomorrow (or I guess, really it is today). I am not sure yet what I will fill it with. I am tempted to bake something again, but I keep waffling between something like blueberry muffins to something a little more complicated like a strawberry tart (or more likely, strawberry tartlets). There is also a recipe for easy puff pastry that I want to try, but I am not certain what I want to put in said puff pastry. Oh, the burden of having too many choices :) (Outside of baking, I will probably do my typical weekly cleaning which is ever so exciting.)
And as you can see, it isn't really anything all that interesting keeping me up at night. I am not wrestling with a guilty conscience, pondering a difficult decision, or even worrying about getting things done. It is just as if a flip has been switched that says "no sleep tonight." I recognize that sitting here, blogging, is not an ideal way to make myself sleepy--something about the artificial light of the computer causing problems and all that fun stuff, but nothing else has worked in the past, either, so there you go...
Anyway, the night draws on, and I should probably attempt sleep again soon. I promise the next post will be more interesting--per a request from a friend, I am going to attempt to blog about some of my past travels in anticipation of my upcoming adventure (one week!). I promise it will be more interesting than this :) Have to say, glad that world didn't end to day...I would have been upset about missing out on my vacation :)
That said, though, overall it has been a fabulous day. I finally made my shopping trip, which even I have to admit was far more successful than I had hoped. It was one of those rare days where I felt okay going into the changing room (normally, I feel too lazy to do so), and even better, actually like how things looked on me. I found myself gravitating to a wide array of extremely feminine styles, which I have noticed happening the older I am. I swear that if I could pull the look off, I would spend much of my time in long, flowing dresses or loose peasant tops and jeans. Kind of that nouveau-bohemian/hippie look. The look on me is still a bit too disconcerting for me to go ahead and buy the clothes, but it was fun to try on a few things that would have added some variety to my wardrobe. Perhaps I can gradually introduce some pieces and see where it leads to from there. As it stands, I had to pry myself away from the store so my bank account wouldn't take an even bigger hit than it was already going to sustain for my minimal purchases.
I am plotting out my day for tomorrow (or I guess, really it is today). I am not sure yet what I will fill it with. I am tempted to bake something again, but I keep waffling between something like blueberry muffins to something a little more complicated like a strawberry tart (or more likely, strawberry tartlets). There is also a recipe for easy puff pastry that I want to try, but I am not certain what I want to put in said puff pastry. Oh, the burden of having too many choices :) (Outside of baking, I will probably do my typical weekly cleaning which is ever so exciting.)
And as you can see, it isn't really anything all that interesting keeping me up at night. I am not wrestling with a guilty conscience, pondering a difficult decision, or even worrying about getting things done. It is just as if a flip has been switched that says "no sleep tonight." I recognize that sitting here, blogging, is not an ideal way to make myself sleepy--something about the artificial light of the computer causing problems and all that fun stuff, but nothing else has worked in the past, either, so there you go...
Anyway, the night draws on, and I should probably attempt sleep again soon. I promise the next post will be more interesting--per a request from a friend, I am going to attempt to blog about some of my past travels in anticipation of my upcoming adventure (one week!). I promise it will be more interesting than this :) Have to say, glad that world didn't end to day...I would have been upset about missing out on my vacation :)
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Consumerism Strikes
Eleven days and counting. Yeah, I am that annoying person who announces to the world just how long it is until she goes on vacation. Still, I keep thinking how little time that is and how much more I need to do. It is getting to the point that it is a bit of distraction at work. (Do not worry, however. I am still an upstanding employee making sure that all of her responsibilities have been taken care of before she lets her mind start to wander...it is a bit too soon to let my mind go on vacation just yet). What is weird is that right now, I am not so much thinking of all the fun things that I will do on my vacation. Instead, I have this urgent need to shop. It is a compulsion I feel rarely, but when I do, it certainly hits with a vengence.
So, what is it that I am in the market for? Well, for starters, I want some new shorts. Granted, I have a couple of pairs of shorts that (probably) fit and would work just fine. However, I am afraid they won't be as comfortable as I want them to be, and it would help if they are the wash and wear type. You never know what you might encounter along the trail... To go with my new shorts, I will need a few new t-shirts that, again, lend themselves to quick drying for wash & wear use. And it wouldn't hurt if they look good. Most of my t-shirts at home are rather shapeless and blah. If I am going to travel, I should travel in style, right? Which leads me to finding a cute dress. While I enjoy the versatility of the typical tourist uniform of t-shirts and shorts, there may be a couple of times during this trip that I want to look a little nicer. You know, if somehow I work up the nerve to go out at night for a nice dinner or something. I want to have something available that will help me look a little less like a vagabond and...dare I say it...look cute. (Believe it or not, being cute/attractive or whatever is not usually on my top list of priorities when I choose my wardrobe. I tend to adopt a more utilitarian perspective, hoping to achieve a level of professionalism that doesn't really call too much attention to me.) When traveling, though, I like to leave behind some of my more reserved nature and be open to exploring different experiences (still while exercising caution! I know the challenges out there for people traveling solo, so don't think I see traveling as an opportunity to leave ALL senses behind.) Again, one of the reasons I love to travel--no one has preconceived notions of who I am, and so that frees me from living up to expectations. (And, yes, I recognize that I can adopt this mentality in my day-to-day life, but it is a little harder since I easily allow myself to be pigeon-holed into a certain role. Hmm...lots of asides in this post. Oops!) If I do find something, I'll let you all know. And if you know of any good places to find cute dresses, that would be helfpul, too...
Besides a few new outfits, I am thinking I need a new camera. I didn't think I needed a new camera until a friend showed me her new camera the other day. Then it got me thinking I should trade up to something a little less bulky than what I currently own. I don't need anything super fancy as taking pictures often comes as an afterthought. But, if it is a bit more compact, it will make my life just that much easier. Right?
So, I completely feel like I have been lured in by the typical materialistic messages to which we are all exposed daily. Yet, since I so rarely indulge in good old consumerism, I feel a little less guilty in buying things that I really have no need for. My when I actually have the time to indulge (this weekend), the urge will have lessened significantly, and I will not be inclined to spend quite as much. And, I tend to be extremely picky, so the likelihood I will find something I want to buy is even less certain. We'll see.
So, what is it that I am in the market for? Well, for starters, I want some new shorts. Granted, I have a couple of pairs of shorts that (probably) fit and would work just fine. However, I am afraid they won't be as comfortable as I want them to be, and it would help if they are the wash and wear type. You never know what you might encounter along the trail... To go with my new shorts, I will need a few new t-shirts that, again, lend themselves to quick drying for wash & wear use. And it wouldn't hurt if they look good. Most of my t-shirts at home are rather shapeless and blah. If I am going to travel, I should travel in style, right? Which leads me to finding a cute dress. While I enjoy the versatility of the typical tourist uniform of t-shirts and shorts, there may be a couple of times during this trip that I want to look a little nicer. You know, if somehow I work up the nerve to go out at night for a nice dinner or something. I want to have something available that will help me look a little less like a vagabond and...dare I say it...look cute. (Believe it or not, being cute/attractive or whatever is not usually on my top list of priorities when I choose my wardrobe. I tend to adopt a more utilitarian perspective, hoping to achieve a level of professionalism that doesn't really call too much attention to me.) When traveling, though, I like to leave behind some of my more reserved nature and be open to exploring different experiences (still while exercising caution! I know the challenges out there for people traveling solo, so don't think I see traveling as an opportunity to leave ALL senses behind.) Again, one of the reasons I love to travel--no one has preconceived notions of who I am, and so that frees me from living up to expectations. (And, yes, I recognize that I can adopt this mentality in my day-to-day life, but it is a little harder since I easily allow myself to be pigeon-holed into a certain role. Hmm...lots of asides in this post. Oops!) If I do find something, I'll let you all know. And if you know of any good places to find cute dresses, that would be helfpul, too...
Besides a few new outfits, I am thinking I need a new camera. I didn't think I needed a new camera until a friend showed me her new camera the other day. Then it got me thinking I should trade up to something a little less bulky than what I currently own. I don't need anything super fancy as taking pictures often comes as an afterthought. But, if it is a bit more compact, it will make my life just that much easier. Right?
So, I completely feel like I have been lured in by the typical materialistic messages to which we are all exposed daily. Yet, since I so rarely indulge in good old consumerism, I feel a little less guilty in buying things that I really have no need for. My when I actually have the time to indulge (this weekend), the urge will have lessened significantly, and I will not be inclined to spend quite as much. And, I tend to be extremely picky, so the likelihood I will find something I want to buy is even less certain. We'll see.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Weekend in Review and a Serious Question
Is the weekend over already? I still have so much more I should have gotten done! (Don't we all?) Still, if I were to look at all I was able to accomplish, I guess it wasn't completely lost. There were lots of other things in between, but here are the highlights:
1. Planted tomatoes, eggplants, cucumbers, remaining squash plants and strawberries
2. Weekly trip to the library, where I dropped off a couple of books and picked up about three more in exchange (I have a lot of reading to do if I want to finish all these before my trip!)
3. Cantoring at church without too many screw-ups (last couple of times have not been so great...)
4. Grocery shopping for the week
5. Made an apple danish braid for the fun of it (and will share tomorrow with co-workers)
6. Celebrated the May birthdays in my family with a barbecue and way too much food! Great company, though.
I think I did a couple of other things in there, but it was a rather strange weekend in that I didn't get as much walking in as I normally do. The unseasonably cool air that has settled in over the city for the weekend discouraged me from embracing the outdoors. And, I realize that is not THAT cold out there, but the air has been a little damp and chill, and it feels like a very long time since the sun has shown itself. My increased time indoors has left me feeling a little out of sorts, but hopefully as the weather begins to warm up, that will change.
Ok, so maybe it isn't just the time indoors or the weather that is nagging at me. My mom is once again struggling with a lot of pain and her health issues, which in turn, stresses my father out no end. It is difficult to pick up the phone and call home when you know that things are difficult for them and there is nothing you can really do. You would think by now that I would have been inured to this reality, and that I could endure some of these conversations with more patience and more grace. More or less, the above situation has been my life for the past 18 years, and yet it never gets any easier. Watching her these past years has left me angry, sad, depressed, and so many other things--it made me wonder whether anyone in the medical profession even gives a damn about their patients. It made me wonder if my mom had some kind of problem that went far beyond her injuries and pain (again, thinking such things made me feel like the bad daughter) that she refused to admit. I have cried because of all the pain she has had to endure, I have cried over the fact that she has had to give up so much because of her health issues (a career, a life outside of the home, the ability to travel or even to spend time with her family). I think of what my dad has had to give up to help take care of my mom (advancing in his career, traveling, enjoying a life free of hospitals, illness, and the inability to ease the pain of someone you love more than anything else). Heck, if I were to be honest, I have cried for myself more often than I would like to admit. ("mourning my lost childhood" or whatever trite cliche I can apply to it that is only marginally true if that.)
had to move away from Texas for my parents and for me--otherwise, I would still be so mired in the all-consuming worry and responsibility that had stunted my ability to forge my own life. Yet, I cannot help but feeling like a bad daughter, guilty of abandoning my mother and father when they are struggling with every day. My grandfather lives right next door to them and does all that he can, but he, too, isn't in the best of health. And while my parents are kind, considerate people who offer their help to others, their social circle is a small one, and a strange mixture of pride and uncertainty prevents them from asking for help.
I try not let this situation dominate my life, but the result of that is an almost complete suppression of reality--if I pretend it isn't happening except for those couple hours a week when I call home, everything will be okay, right? If anyone asks, my response sounds cold and callous, as if I don't really care that my mom is in so much pain she cannot leave her bed and my dad is worrying himself to death. But I still don't know what to do.
I don't know how to provide comfort or support beyond what I do now. Part of me toys with the idea of moving back home, but as I mentioned above, that would mean giving up my life in order to take care of my parents. (And yes, I recognize it isn't necessarily an either/or kind of thing, BUT I know me, and what I tend to do when around family--my sense of duty and obligation are so ingrained, I couldn't do anything but help if that makes sense). Most people would have gone back long ago I think. Maybe I am just too selfish to do what I should...I just don't know.
Most likely, I will do what I normally do--wait it out, knowing that throughout my mom and dad are struggling to be heard by the doctors, that it will get worse before it evens out once again and maybe, just maybe gets better, and then just waiting for the cycle to repeat itself. I hate being so passive, and I hate the fact that there really isn't anything I can do about it. I hate the fact that I am having a harder time imagining a life where my mom is one day well or at least not in debilitating pain. So, in the end, I am just left feeling sad and helpless. And a little more tired. I am most worried about the day that I lose all ability to hope for a different life for my mom and dad because hope is the one thing that trumps all these negative emotions--that maybe for once, they will get things right. (sorry for all the rambling--it is a hard topic about which to write because I could go on forever about the complications and complexities that I have left out, and NO one wants to get in that much detail about my life.)
So, my serious question--what would you do? What can I do to be a better daughter, to be more supportive, caring, considerate? What can I do to help ease my parents' stress beyond what I am doing now?
Friday, May 13, 2011
Last Weekend
So, in my last post, I mentioned how last weekend was spent with the family--first, celebrating the birthday of my cousin Joe and then heading down south to watch my cousin Elizabeth make her First Communion. I held off because I wanted to have a couple of pictures to show off Elizabeth in particular (Sorry, but the nature of Joe's party discouraged any kind of photography...), but my camera was in Kansas. Since it has once again crossed the border, perhaps it is time to share a bit more about my family.
I adore all four of my younger cousins. I have been fortunate to know them personally--having nannied Elizabeth and Liam for six months when they were not quite toddlers and having spent the last five years just down the street from Joe and Patrick. However, as with all children, each of my cousins deserve a story of his or her own. Since I have the picture to accompany this post, I'll shine the spotlight on Elizabeth, who would most gladly accept the attention.
Like many girls her age, Elizabeth is definitely a little princess. At her young age, I am willing to bet she owns more clothes and shoes than I currently have in my closet, and she is probably angling for a few more. She is the social butterfly of her class, a friend to everybody. She is adorable and she knows it. Still, all of this does not make her insufferable but just adds to her charm.
When I was nannying her, one of my favorite things to do was dance around with her in my arms and sing. At this age, she loved the Sound of Music and The Little Mermaid, so my repertoire was a bit limited ("Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens..."). She would join in as best as she could, music being one of her favorite things and one of the only ways I could distract her sometimes. I admit that the six months I was with her and her brother were not always easy (the sweet little angel in the picture above had quite the arm--my glasses ended up on the other side of the room on more than one occasion), so it helps to remember the good times. When I think back to these times, I remember just how happy we both were being kind of silly like this. I am sure she doesn't remember any of this, but the memories will always stay with me.
As she has grown older, her interest in the arts expanded beyond music to include drawing (she is an excellent artist) and storytelling. However, sometimes the stories she creates are relayed as truth, so you have to take what she says with a grain of salt. Of all my cousins, Elizabeth possess the greatest imagination, able to see the world as a place of possibilities, willing to bend the truth if it captures the attention of her audience. I truly hope that she continues to explore the depths of her imagination and does not let anyone dissuade her from using it. Fortunately, she has proven herself in several instances to be determined to do what she wants, even in times when others would have given up. (Once during a swim meet, despite the fact she was lagging behind, instead of giving up when the others were, she completed all the laps, seeing the race through.)
Sometimes, it surprises me just how much I want to protect Elizabeth and my other cousins from the harshness of the world. For Elizabeth, I hope she continues to see that she has the ability to become just about anything she wants to be--she has the intelligence, the perseverance and the talent to accomplish most anything I think. As my only female cousin, Elizabeth gets a bit of special attention in my mind. For her, I feel the need not only to be a good role model, but I want to reassure her that being a girl does not preclude you from certain things--that if she should pursue whatever interests her, be it fashion, art, or engineering. I want her to know that the expectations of society--that of external beauty, wealth, status--do not determine her worth and that she does not need someone else to validate her existence. I want her to know she is worthy just for being herself. (Things that many of us all know but still cannot accept--at least, I know I struggle with this constantly even have been here 21 years longer than she!)
And, I guess in a lot of ways, I see a little of myself in Elizabeth, that I, too, loved to draw and tell stories. I don't want her to lose that because it is so much an extension of herself, and I, maybe I exaggerate a bit, but I wish I still had the whimsy of imagination to fuel my days. Its absence hits me more often than I would like to admit. I want to caution her about becoming too serious too soon. And I want her to know that she is loved, more deeply and by more people than she will ever realize.
I adore all four of my younger cousins. I have been fortunate to know them personally--having nannied Elizabeth and Liam for six months when they were not quite toddlers and having spent the last five years just down the street from Joe and Patrick. However, as with all children, each of my cousins deserve a story of his or her own. Since I have the picture to accompany this post, I'll shine the spotlight on Elizabeth, who would most gladly accept the attention.
Like many girls her age, Elizabeth is definitely a little princess. At her young age, I am willing to bet she owns more clothes and shoes than I currently have in my closet, and she is probably angling for a few more. She is the social butterfly of her class, a friend to everybody. She is adorable and she knows it. Still, all of this does not make her insufferable but just adds to her charm.
 |
| Isn't she sweet? She looked so beautiful on Saturday! (Ignore the person she is hugging...not at all a flattering picture) |
When I was nannying her, one of my favorite things to do was dance around with her in my arms and sing. At this age, she loved the Sound of Music and The Little Mermaid, so my repertoire was a bit limited ("Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens..."). She would join in as best as she could, music being one of her favorite things and one of the only ways I could distract her sometimes. I admit that the six months I was with her and her brother were not always easy (the sweet little angel in the picture above had quite the arm--my glasses ended up on the other side of the room on more than one occasion), so it helps to remember the good times. When I think back to these times, I remember just how happy we both were being kind of silly like this. I am sure she doesn't remember any of this, but the memories will always stay with me.
As she has grown older, her interest in the arts expanded beyond music to include drawing (she is an excellent artist) and storytelling. However, sometimes the stories she creates are relayed as truth, so you have to take what she says with a grain of salt. Of all my cousins, Elizabeth possess the greatest imagination, able to see the world as a place of possibilities, willing to bend the truth if it captures the attention of her audience. I truly hope that she continues to explore the depths of her imagination and does not let anyone dissuade her from using it. Fortunately, she has proven herself in several instances to be determined to do what she wants, even in times when others would have given up. (Once during a swim meet, despite the fact she was lagging behind, instead of giving up when the others were, she completed all the laps, seeing the race through.)
Sometimes, it surprises me just how much I want to protect Elizabeth and my other cousins from the harshness of the world. For Elizabeth, I hope she continues to see that she has the ability to become just about anything she wants to be--she has the intelligence, the perseverance and the talent to accomplish most anything I think. As my only female cousin, Elizabeth gets a bit of special attention in my mind. For her, I feel the need not only to be a good role model, but I want to reassure her that being a girl does not preclude you from certain things--that if she should pursue whatever interests her, be it fashion, art, or engineering. I want her to know that the expectations of society--that of external beauty, wealth, status--do not determine her worth and that she does not need someone else to validate her existence. I want her to know she is worthy just for being herself. (Things that many of us all know but still cannot accept--at least, I know I struggle with this constantly even have been here 21 years longer than she!)
And, I guess in a lot of ways, I see a little of myself in Elizabeth, that I, too, loved to draw and tell stories. I don't want her to lose that because it is so much an extension of herself, and I, maybe I exaggerate a bit, but I wish I still had the whimsy of imagination to fuel my days. Its absence hits me more often than I would like to admit. I want to caution her about becoming too serious too soon. And I want her to know that she is loved, more deeply and by more people than she will ever realize.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
How Does Your Garden Grow...
It has been pretty busy around here lately, at least for me. A birthday party, a first communion, Mother's Day, and the regular busyness of every day life have kept me from the computer for awhile. That and I didn't want to blog about any of the above things without some pictures. Currently, my camera is across the state line in my aunt's car. It will eventually return, but until then, you'll have to wait to see just how adorable my cousin Elizabeth looked in her communion gown or how goofy my cousin Joe looks at age 7.
What I am really excited about right now, though, is the fact that my seeds are beginning to sprout! On Sunday, I began to see a little green popping through the soil. By the next day, the plants were a full three inches above the rim of the pot. Yesterday, they were a full six to seven inches tall! I know that this is natural and really, I should not be so shocked by the entire process, but I admit to a little bit of child-like awe at the whole process. After planting the first of these seedlings in my small patch of earth outside, I am ready to see these plants (zucchini and yellow squash to begin with, and hopefully cucumbers and peppers by the weekend) take over the brown patches of dirt and begin bearing a crop hopefully large enough to satisfy my needs. I have missed having a real garden, and I am looking forward to making a more concerted effort in getting this one to take root.
Why is it so important to me? I think part of it is a twinge of nostalgia. Growing up, we had a lot more space to grow vegetables. Every year, we would plant the several varieties of squash, tomatoes, and peppers along with some watermelon and cantaloupe. Some years we had green beans and broccoli. One year, we planted okra, and it took about seven years for it to stop coming up voluntarily. (We discovered that there is only so much okra one family can eat, and it was far less than what we were able to produce). We rarely had to buy any vegetables from the store because we had more than enough from our own garden. Granted, we weren't the most assiduous of gardeners...the fact that anything really grew was more to luck and size than anything--outside of watering the garden, we didn't do much else to help it out. Still, there was one year that we were giving away pounds of zucchini, and I made a least 6 loaves of zucchini bread so nothing would go to waste. When things grew, they grew in overabundance, but we did what we could to use them all. (On a side note, it wasn't just vegetables we grew--we were also lucky to have several fruit trees: pears, pomegranates, oranges, mulberry...more than enough to keep us going at least for a little while.)
I like the idea of growing plants, cultivating something that will eventually yield food I will gladly consume. Whatever my garden grows probably will not save me a ton of money at the grocery store or result in a bountiful harvest with which I cannot keep up. If I am lucky, I will have enough to get me through the summer, although ideally I would like to have enough to share with family and (if they are interested) friends at work. But perhaps instead of visions of grandeur, I should recognize that this is my first effort, and whatever I do get will be more than satisfying. And it will hopefully teach me what to do better next year!
What I am really excited about right now, though, is the fact that my seeds are beginning to sprout! On Sunday, I began to see a little green popping through the soil. By the next day, the plants were a full three inches above the rim of the pot. Yesterday, they were a full six to seven inches tall! I know that this is natural and really, I should not be so shocked by the entire process, but I admit to a little bit of child-like awe at the whole process. After planting the first of these seedlings in my small patch of earth outside, I am ready to see these plants (zucchini and yellow squash to begin with, and hopefully cucumbers and peppers by the weekend) take over the brown patches of dirt and begin bearing a crop hopefully large enough to satisfy my needs. I have missed having a real garden, and I am looking forward to making a more concerted effort in getting this one to take root.
Why is it so important to me? I think part of it is a twinge of nostalgia. Growing up, we had a lot more space to grow vegetables. Every year, we would plant the several varieties of squash, tomatoes, and peppers along with some watermelon and cantaloupe. Some years we had green beans and broccoli. One year, we planted okra, and it took about seven years for it to stop coming up voluntarily. (We discovered that there is only so much okra one family can eat, and it was far less than what we were able to produce). We rarely had to buy any vegetables from the store because we had more than enough from our own garden. Granted, we weren't the most assiduous of gardeners...the fact that anything really grew was more to luck and size than anything--outside of watering the garden, we didn't do much else to help it out. Still, there was one year that we were giving away pounds of zucchini, and I made a least 6 loaves of zucchini bread so nothing would go to waste. When things grew, they grew in overabundance, but we did what we could to use them all. (On a side note, it wasn't just vegetables we grew--we were also lucky to have several fruit trees: pears, pomegranates, oranges, mulberry...more than enough to keep us going at least for a little while.)
I like the idea of growing plants, cultivating something that will eventually yield food I will gladly consume. Whatever my garden grows probably will not save me a ton of money at the grocery store or result in a bountiful harvest with which I cannot keep up. If I am lucky, I will have enough to get me through the summer, although ideally I would like to have enough to share with family and (if they are interested) friends at work. But perhaps instead of visions of grandeur, I should recognize that this is my first effort, and whatever I do get will be more than satisfying. And it will hopefully teach me what to do better next year!
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Trip Update
I had a fabulous surprise awaiting me in my email this morning just before lunch--my final itinerary for my trip to Croatia! While I know it has been weeks (months, even) since I have booked my trip, it wasn't until I had all the details at my fingertips that I realized that by the end of May, I will be in a foreign country, once again experiencing the thrill of discovering somewhere new.
Despite all the wonderful times I have had with friends, I now find myself looking to create something that is just me. That is why I enjoy traveling by myself. I can be selfish about my discoveries, having these experiences that no one I know will have had. This trip, this little slice of my life, is for me and me alone.
That probably sounds strange. Who wouldn't want to share these kind of memories so that they can be relived over and over again? For me, going off to somewhere I am a complete stranger, where I cannot even speak the language, makes me work outside my comfort zone. I can be myself in a way that I won't allow myself to be where others know me. While in my normal life, at home, at work, and with friends, I feel this need always to be competent, reliable, knowledgeable and able to do ANYTHING. There is no room for mistakes or error, and if I do screw up, it is reason to get frustrated because I have let another person down. I felt it when traveling with my friends, too--if everything didn't go smoothly, more often than not, I would somehow blame myself (like when we got lost, we should have gone straight past the caravan--trailer--instead of veering right, but that map was confusing...). And while my friends were more than gracious, I still couldn't shake the nagging feeling I disappointed.
I think that is one of the things I love most about travel. It is surrounding myself with the unfamiliar, finding something that I, in a way, can make my own. I have taken several trips with friends over the years, and during those times, I made memories I will never forget. I still laugh at the time my friend Carrie and I were invited to hop on the bus to some strange Welsh village "where the men are REAL men." (I believe this very hospitable man had just finished spending some time at the pub...believe it or not, we decided to head back to Cardiff as we originally planned.) My trip to Cornwall would never have even happened if my friend Lauren hadn't convinced me we needed to see if there really were pirates in Penzance. (Sadly, the closest we came was a cartoonish mural.) That was also the trip we got hopelessly lost trying to find some prehistorical donut that cures back problems if you crawl through it (Men-an-tol)--we eventually did find it, but not before we had to stare down a group of menacing looking cows in a bog.
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| Men-An-Tol outside of Penzance |
That probably sounds strange. Who wouldn't want to share these kind of memories so that they can be relived over and over again? For me, going off to somewhere I am a complete stranger, where I cannot even speak the language, makes me work outside my comfort zone. I can be myself in a way that I won't allow myself to be where others know me. While in my normal life, at home, at work, and with friends, I feel this need always to be competent, reliable, knowledgeable and able to do ANYTHING. There is no room for mistakes or error, and if I do screw up, it is reason to get frustrated because I have let another person down. I felt it when traveling with my friends, too--if everything didn't go smoothly, more often than not, I would somehow blame myself (like when we got lost, we should have gone straight past the caravan--trailer--instead of veering right, but that map was confusing...). And while my friends were more than gracious, I still couldn't shake the nagging feeling I disappointed.
By myself, however, there is no one to disappoint. Indeed, there is no way I can figure it all out. I must ask for help. I have to swallow my pride and speak up if something goes wrong. I cannot rely on someone else to do it for me, and I cannot just figure it out on my own. It makes me connect with the people around me in a way that I do not do here at home. And it reminds me that most people are more than happy to help. I just hate to do so.
I also find that I am more likely to engage in conversations with complete strangers. Again, something I do not do when at home. Last year while I was in Crete, I enjoyed an hour long conversation with one of the waiters at the restaurant I chose for dinner (I ate a bit earlier than most Greek people, so it was really slow at the time.) I would never consider doing that at a restaurant here, but there it seemed ok. I don't know...sometimes, I think I am a more confident, more open person when I travel alone. It is like I can check my neurosis as I leave the country. I shed the insecurities, the expectations that follow me every day, and I end up being that person who smiles to herself as she walks down the street. I like her a lot, to be honest. Hopefully, after 8 days in Europe, she will stick around awhile in Kansas City...
Monday, May 2, 2011
Headline News
Of all the nights I choose to disconnect from the world early, I chose last night. So, it came as a shock to me this morning when I removed the newspaper from its plastic sleeve and saw the paper shouting at me "Bin Laden Dead." My initial thought was "Wow. That is unexpected." My next was, "What exactly does this mean?"
I am not really sure how to feel about this. The idea that this man, who has served as the embodiment of evil in the American psyche, the figurehead for the attacks on the World Trade, is now dead is surreal. Indeed, for me, his existence became something of a myth, he some intangible bogeyman living in caves in a far-off country. We launched two wars largely to counter the actions inspired by his rhetoric. The violence and evil he and his followers wrought against numerous innocent lives undoubtedly demanded justice. Yet, in spite of all this, I find myself unable to join the rest of the nation in celebrating his death.
Does this make me unpatriotic? I would like to think not. The men and women serving overseas are doing all they can to protect us, and the Navy Seals responsible for the raid conducted themselves well in their duty. Please do not think that I mourn for this man's death. I am fully aware that bin Laden was a hateful, hurtful demagogue. I also know that through his killing, the United States has something around which to rally--it is a good day for America because the death of the leader of al-Qaeda is concrete. It proves that justice prevails eventually, and, perhaps, inspires some hope that our actions abroad are not futile. And for those more personally affected by the aftermath of September 11, I pray that it provides some kind of consolation.
Yet, the victory feels somewhat hollow. Perhaps it is because the lapse in time between the events which sparked the manhunt to its completion seems like a lifetime. Perhaps it is because it seems likely that bin Laden was more a symbol of al-Qaeda than its heart, and that while we have wounded the enemy, it would be foolish to think the enemy is no longer a problem. As the world braces itself for a backlash from his followers, we all wait to see what will happen now.
I find myself unable to cheer bin Laden's death because it feels wrong to celebrate the death of anyone, even if they are the embodiment of evil. When I watched the Twin Towers fall, my heart sank not only for those who would not escape from the devastation, but for the inevitable death and destruction that such a hateful act perpetuates. Even though the killing of bin Laden was our way of meting out justice, a small part of me fears this act will continue to perpetuate the hate. Amazing how even in death, this man continues to have power and influence that will resonate for years to come. And perhaps that is why I cannot celebrate his death--it does little to change the world. While there may be one less vile person alive in this world, how many more will be spurred to violence as a result? And what have we as a nation become to revel in the death of our enemies?
I am not really sure how to feel about this. The idea that this man, who has served as the embodiment of evil in the American psyche, the figurehead for the attacks on the World Trade, is now dead is surreal. Indeed, for me, his existence became something of a myth, he some intangible bogeyman living in caves in a far-off country. We launched two wars largely to counter the actions inspired by his rhetoric. The violence and evil he and his followers wrought against numerous innocent lives undoubtedly demanded justice. Yet, in spite of all this, I find myself unable to join the rest of the nation in celebrating his death.
Does this make me unpatriotic? I would like to think not. The men and women serving overseas are doing all they can to protect us, and the Navy Seals responsible for the raid conducted themselves well in their duty. Please do not think that I mourn for this man's death. I am fully aware that bin Laden was a hateful, hurtful demagogue. I also know that through his killing, the United States has something around which to rally--it is a good day for America because the death of the leader of al-Qaeda is concrete. It proves that justice prevails eventually, and, perhaps, inspires some hope that our actions abroad are not futile. And for those more personally affected by the aftermath of September 11, I pray that it provides some kind of consolation.
Yet, the victory feels somewhat hollow. Perhaps it is because the lapse in time between the events which sparked the manhunt to its completion seems like a lifetime. Perhaps it is because it seems likely that bin Laden was more a symbol of al-Qaeda than its heart, and that while we have wounded the enemy, it would be foolish to think the enemy is no longer a problem. As the world braces itself for a backlash from his followers, we all wait to see what will happen now.
I find myself unable to cheer bin Laden's death because it feels wrong to celebrate the death of anyone, even if they are the embodiment of evil. When I watched the Twin Towers fall, my heart sank not only for those who would not escape from the devastation, but for the inevitable death and destruction that such a hateful act perpetuates. Even though the killing of bin Laden was our way of meting out justice, a small part of me fears this act will continue to perpetuate the hate. Amazing how even in death, this man continues to have power and influence that will resonate for years to come. And perhaps that is why I cannot celebrate his death--it does little to change the world. While there may be one less vile person alive in this world, how many more will be spurred to violence as a result? And what have we as a nation become to revel in the death of our enemies?
Sunday, May 1, 2011
This and That...
It has been one of those days where I have felt the need to be in motion. Beginning at 6:30 this morning, I have been compelled to stay in motion, flitting from one activity to another. While helpful in getting things done, it certainly leaves one feeling a bit more tired at the end of the day. My only hope is that it will help me sleep better tonight than I did last night. Tossing, turning, and waking up every hour does not lend itself to feeling rested.
I figure the combo of chocolate and peanut butter is one with which you cannot go wrong. (Unlike other bakers who do an amazing job capturing their work in progress, it is best for me NOT to show a step by step version. Seriously, I am perhaps one of the messiest cooks you will ever encounter, and my stuff, while usually tasting pretty good, never looks all that pretty.)
Of the things I did today, I am most pleased with how my latest baking experiment turned out. Looking for something to bring to welcome a new co-worker tomorrow, I browsed several websites looking for something simple enough to make, that didn't require a special trip to the store for ingredients, and would be well-received by pretty much anyone. I chose to make "Magic in the Middles," a recipe I found on King Arthur Flour's wesbite.
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| Image from http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/magic-in-themiddles-recipe |
I also planted some seeds that will hopefully sprout into seedlings over the next couple of weeks. If all goes well, I will have a small garden with tomatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, cucumbers, and green peppers. Fingers crossed that my notorious black thumb doesn't crush my future plans.
Other than that, it was a lot more yard work (despite the overcast skies and chilly air), a long walk while chatting on the phone with my parents, and a few other random chores. Nothing exciting, but enough to keep me busy. Still, I managed to think of several potential blog posts throughout the day--it is strange how certain activities trigger memories that seem not at all related to what you are doing--but actually writing about any of them has proven to be elusive. Has anyone else ever thought that perhaps it would be better to write out a blog entry then type it up to share? While in grad school, I picked up the habit of handwriting a majority of my papers before finishing the final draft. Considering how I used to write everything only on the computer (except for in-class essays, of course), it seems almost like a step backwards technologically. Yet, I still think that perhaps pencil and paper would help me capture some of these fleeting ideas in a way that I can flesh out at a later date. If you haven't figured it out by now, I have a lot to say, even if no one else cares to hear it :)
Alas, today is not the day that I explore the joys of traveling solo, recollect fond memories of watching my tent fly over a cliff, or reminisce about being a member of the defense team working to prove that Ashley Thornhill was not guilty of murder. So, until I manage to get pencil to paper or break down the mental block preventing me from writing anything remotely interesting, I bid you adieu. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and here is hoping you all have an excellent week ahead!
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