raves & rants

rave:  we had one of the nicest Thanksgivings ever at my MIL's.  All the kids played together and they're all old enough to be out of diapers, through with naps and disinclined to melt down in tantrums.  Everyone enjoyed each other's company without any drama, plenty of beer and lots of laughs.

rant:  the shoppers who bought into Black Friday extending into Thursday.  This woman expressed my thoughts very well. 

rave:  Nobody in Mr. D's family put materialism and greed before family tradition.

rave:  last night we put up a beautiful tree in our living room.  It smells great, looks gorgeous, and we enjoyed decorating it together as is our tradition.  (Bonus rave:  it's still standing upright)

rave:  the decorating scheme I conceived for my house this year turned out perfectly.  (Shiny!  Fresh!  Bright!)

rant:  fingers cramped while tying knots in the fishing line all morning long as brilliant idea took much more effort and time than anticipated.

rave:  Mr. T's basketball team won yesterday!  It was a tough team, both teams played well, the officiating was solid and Mr. T poured. it. on.

rant:  @@##(!@#!!!! outdoor Christmas lights won't light even though they're plugged in and each set lit up FINE when I tested them before hanging them up.

rave:  enjoyed watching football after tree decorating with Team Testosterone.  Especially entertained by Mr. G's passion for football and all the questions he asks.  That kid is keeping Mr. D on his toes.

rant:  the Pack's performance against the Giants was UGLY.

rave:  we got some flurries, which really puts people in a happy mood around here.

Spill it, reader--what's got you ranting and/or raving this Monday morning?

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holding pattern

Things are brewing here--and I'm not talking about coffee.  We've got one week left of summer break and then everything changes.

It's weird to sit in this holding pattern, but there you have it.  No sense in starting new projects or routines when things are about to change.   We killed some time at a water park in the Dells. The boys are mad for this giant wave pool and we're all tall enough to go on the roller coasters and go-carts now.  Plus, people watching at a Wisconsin water park is pretty entertaining.  The thing that struck me most last week was how less than 20% of the population had any discernible muscle tone.  I'm not talking about people's weight, I'm talking about the pure flabbiness of so many arms and legs, on bodies large and small.  It got me thinking that people's diet habits are less of an issue than their lack of exercise.  You'll find great amounts of evidence of our sedentary society at a water park.

Mr. D and I went to a lovely wedding reception and visited with old friends.  We even cut a rug on the dance floor because we're too damn old to care what the young kids think and we're too young to remain seated at the tables sipping decaf.  The decorations were inspired and earthy, including these wonderful coasters made out of cut tree branches.  That had to be the best party favor I've ever scored at a wedding.  And we also heard the best maid of honor speech ever, the bride's twin sister delivered a hilarious and brilliant toast with magnificent comic timing and an accent so broad you could have mistaken her for a Yooper.  No kidding.

I've cleaned out a closet or two, organized years 1994-1999 in the photo albums and picked a pile of tomatoes and a peck of peppers (unpickled).   I've read 3 books and started a 4th.  I'm refereeing fights between bored brothers and flat out of patience with their lack of imagination.  It's an antsy feeling, knowing the bigger things I'd like to be doing but waiting until school starts.  Spill it, reader.  Anyone else get the jitters during the final weeks of summer vacation?

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wetland mitgation program, or one whopping big project with monster-sized trucks

I mentioned the racket this summer.  It's an industrial-sized project happening behind our property.  About 60 acres of former cropland are being turned into wetlands to replace about 17 acres of wetland being turned into an improved highway and a Cabela's.  Yes, the irony of turning protected wetlands into a big box store catering to outdoorsmen does not escape me, either.

 Lots of big trucks are parked on our property every night.  The cab doors are unlocked.  We trespass.  Well, not technically, as the trucks are on our property...

 This huge bridge was built over the creek to let those big trucks pass.

Huge piles of dirt form a ring around the perimeter of the field.  Why?  For what purpose?
Climbing, of course.

This one gives you some small sense of the scale of this project.  It's massive.

 
Eerily so.

All day long the big trucks push, dig, dump and transport that dirt around. 

And sometimes those big trucks bring in piles of rocks, too.

And they leave big tracks.

It's an official work site, as evidenced by this plywood covered by permits, rules and other important documents.

And it's all hidden far back on this service road that we share with our neighbors.

Big trucks on our prairie.

 Little Mr. G by a big truck.

 Mr. T illustrating how much dirt a digger can hold.

I snuck up on the workers from the edge of the woods and took some pictures, too.

That's what goes on back there.  All day.  Every day.  From seven in the morning until five at night.

Back and forth.

It's so weird to see all this space empty when it's usually planted with corn every year.  I'll keep you posted as this develops.

From what I understand, they're going to dig some kind of pond and plant a berm with native species.  Judging by the scope of this job, I imagine it'll take a little while.  I've never seen a wetlands get restored before, and certainly never seen 60 acres go from cropland to wetland.  It's easy to imagine how our back forty will benefit from an adjacent 60 acres of wildlife habitat.  It's tougher to imagine how that restoration actually happens.  But that, my friends, is our tax dollars hard at work in the Badger State.

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profound revelation

Readers, I'm about to BLOW YOUR MIND with my brilliant revelation.
In the past few years I've become a very selective TV viewer.  I don't have lots of time or patience for what passes for entertainment anymore.  I demand either clever writing, character development and scripting (Mad Men, SOA), or induced belly laughs (Modern Family).  I really want the belly laughs because TV's supposed to be an escape, right? But those genuinely funny moments are harder and harder to find.  In fact, the hardest I've laughed since watching Bridesmaids was about a week ago when Mr. D and I watched an episode of Duck Dynasty.  (Seriously, those rednecks with the ZZ Top beards tickle my funny bone--and the ending, where Willie reflects on the big lesson of the day reminds me of how each episode of Little House on the Prairie ended with Laura's monologue moment.)  While I was doubled over, tears welling in my eyes, I realized Something Huge.  This Something Huge is my new litmus test for any TV show.

If a TV show has a laugh track, it's going to suck.

Like every rule, this one has an exception--only one--and that's because Neil Patrick Harris (secret gay boyfriend #1) stars in it.  I'm not quitting How I Met Your Mother, but from here on out, if I hear the canned laughter essentially telling the audience, "this part is funny, you should laugh NOW," I'm turning it off.  

The laugh track has become a widely abused device over the past 7 years, in large part to gloss over completely shitty writing and fool audiences into thinking rehashed one-liners are hilarious.  As a writer who tries hard to generate honest humor in her own writing, I regard the laugh track with contempt, a lazy person's tool.  I'm an intelligent woman wanting smart, clever, funny and sharp writing and if TV wants my attention, the writers and producers better start putting out or I'm tuning out.

I don't care if the hottest new series of the season stars Jason Bateman, Alec Baldwin and Helen Mirren.  If the producers include a laugh track I'm not watching.  I'm getting my giggle fix off the truly funny shows that trust viewers to pick up on humor (Modern Family, The Middle) or shows that are unintentionally funny (Duck Dynasty, Pawn Stars). 

Spill it, reader.  Is this litmus test money or what?

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if you used a pensieve on me today...

here's what you'd find in my mind:

Having an ice and water dispenser in the door of one's refrigerator is a marvelous thing.

I do wish the Colts well--I am nurturing a fantasy where Peyton becomes either a TV sportscaster or a coach. It will seem so odd seeing him play for any other team. And if he plays for the Seahawks, well, that would open a new can of worms for this particular NFL fan. If he must keep playing, I'd prefer he play for a team I already pay attention to.

A robin outside my window! Sweet springtime is here!

After delivering campaign signs hither, thither and yon today, I should really bake a treat for Team Testosterone and their pals who are spending the night. Especially since dinner will be a boring meal of grilled cheese sandwiches because it is Lent and 3/7 of the people at the table are Catholic.

Level Up is one of the shows Team Testosterone watches together--I sat on my bed last night and for the first time watched it with them. It was more intelligent than I expected and I kind of liked it. Sometimes when they talk to each other, it's tough to understand, so I have to keep up with this sort of stuff.

Sarah sent me a link for leprechaun traps. The boys have decided to make all of the traps. I need to figure out how to make wee green hats for the "leprechauns" to leave behind...

Hangover II was perfectly dreadful. If you must watch it, rent it.

Yesterday somebody told me that I'd get a lot of votes for school board since I'm a woman. I replied that should be my slogan, "Vote for Estrogen and Experience!" Actually, if I lived in a more liberal community, I think it would play well. (Although the women in this town are more progressive than they seem at first glance--especially the older ones.)

Next week I have 2 book events and I'm torn between getting a haircut and waiting until after the events to get a haircut. I'm getting long and shaggy--it's not out of hand, nothing a little effort can't make look presentable--but a fresh cut might make me look better. The conundrums a not-so-very-famous-writer faces.

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funny, funny, football

Funny story: we've been working on a bo staff module in karate. Pretty tame stuff, so I've tried to run a bit on the side just to keep fit. I ran yesterday, felt a bit breathless afterwards, but didn't use my inhaler (Yo! Mikey! A shout-out to all my asthmatic cronies!) figuring I'd get my wind back later.

asthma icon Mikey from "The Goonies"

Wouldn't you know we deviated from the regular bo staff routine and had a hard class. Many kicks, elbow strikes, leg throws and knee strikes later, I wheezed my way back home with my boys. Regrettably I'd opted to wear a "nice" bra to class, and now it was covered in sweat and stench. I spent the evening "feeling the burn" in my legs and puffing on my inhaler.

Next Funny: In the last month I've filled out the paper work to run for public office and to work as a substitute teacher. I've had to fill out FOUR TIMES the paperwork, establish my citizenship, get a background check and provide references to substitute teach. I had to provide my name and address to run for public office. People working with children are screened much more thoroughly than people wanting to run our government, which might explain why our government is filled with crooks. Maybe this isn't funny.

Football: A casual survey over breakfast showed all 5 of us will cheer for New York on Sunday. Unparalleled consensus. Heck, even last year we had a traitor in our midst. I know a fair number of my readers glaze over when I mention pigskins. For those of you who care, Green Girl Football Fun Facts:
1. I live near an NFL team--so near that when the plans fly over Lambeau, they fly over my back yard seconds later
2. I live with all men
3. Football (unlike politics) is a safe conversational piece in most circles around here--especially for men
4. Football is like chess and war, full of strategy and opportunity, brutality and power
5. I give a crap about college football
6. I care slightly more about high school football
7. I adore professional football because it's played at such a refined level--there's a reason why players do not leap from high school to the NFL.
8. It's complicated. The more you watch it, the more you realize this.
9. As you begin to understand the complexity of the game, you begin to appreciate it even more
10. I care madly and deeply about the Packers.
11. I am a selective NFL fan. I care about Detroit, Indianapolis, New York, New Orleans and Pittsburgh. Frankly, if any other teams are playing in the Super Bowl, I'd half-watch it. If Dallas or Cincinnati or St. Louis were playing, I wouldn't even turn on my TV. Swear to God.
12. The excitement of the game aside, I also enjoy the camaraderie of the fans. Any time you bring together people sharing a passion, whether it's music, literature, politics or sports, it's powerful.
13. It's the only sport I watch. I take in baseball because that's the law around my house. I think basketball is full of thugs and don't spare any time for the NBA or NCAA. I'd rather bowl or golf than watch them on TV. I really don't understand soccer. I have no interest in car or horse races. I ignore figure skating, gymnastic, swimming and skiing unless they're part of the Olympics.
14. There's something so jaw-dropping about that perfectly placed pass, that perfectly timed reception, that perfectly coordinated tackle. Sure, you'll have fumbles, penalty flags and interceptions, but when football is played flawlessly, it's artistic and moving and inspiring.
15. There's also something pretty cool about generations of fans watching their sport together.

I hope your Sunday is super, reader, however you spend it. Go Giants!

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building a case for Legos

Tonight is the boys' Christmas concert at school--Mr. D will attend since I'll be AT MY BOOK LAUNCH PARTY IN STEVENS POINT. Anyway, I'll sit in on the dress rehearsal, which, as my sons helpfully pointed out, is NOT the same thing as the evening performance, but there you have it. They don't seem terribly impressed by my reason for missing the concert.

It's all about LEGOS here lately. By lately I mean for the past year. My children have almost exclusively asked for Lego kits for Christmas. Mr. T has a hankering for the Old School Star Wars kits which are wicked pricey and hard to find, Mr. B and Mr. G are kicking it Clone Wars and Ninjago-style. Mr. D and I think we should buy stock in Lego Corp. because Lord knows we spend enough on their products. Star Wars! Ninjago! Pirates!

This morning we rehashed that conversation and I mused yet again to Mr. D, "And they haven't even begun to effectively tap the GIRL market yet. I mean, it's all for boys, their product lines. But Legos are huge and believe me, there are plenty of girls who like them now, but imagine if they developed lines exclusively for girls."

Mr. D looked at me like I'm crazy (which happens more often than you might imagine) and said, "They're BUILDING toys. Girls don't like to BUILD."

I replied, "Baloney-Salami. I was a girl and I loved to build. In fact, I spent more time BUILDING houses and mansions and towns for my Barbie dolls than I spent actually PLAYING dolls. I loved building toys--this old farm set my dad had as a kid, tinker toys, blocks, dollhouses. Sadly, most building toys are geared to boys, but I'm telling you, girls like to build."

It's true. Look at all the women you know who like to make things--crafting is a form of building. It's creative but it's also productive. Knitting a sweater, stamping an album, nailing together a birdhouse--the beauty of BUILDING is the satisfaction of looking at your final product. I truly believe girls both need and would enjoy toys that incorporate both.

Look at the wild success of Webkins. How many of those beanbag critters were sold because of the code that gained access to a virtual world where kids could build their own house and manage their own affairs? A form of building. My kids' favorite thing to play lately is Lego Universe because it's a virtual world where they BUILD their properties, create their characters, and design their characters' paths.

Kids want to interact with their toys and the lamest toys are the ones with a limited script (I'm talking to the likes of you, Tickle Me Elmo). The best toys are the ones that work at the mercy of a kid's imagination. Now these Lego kits the boys want for Christmas come with instructions, but once they're built, they get shuffled around and engage in all kinds of dramatic warfare. And then the boys build NEW space shuttles and rockets and weapons using random Lego parts, constantly interchanging the dynamics of their play.

More importantly, kids enjoy feeling the pride of looking at a finished product that they assembled themselves. So many toys rob them of this experience--what pride is there in dressing a doll? Almost none. What pride is there in rolling a car? Almost none. But building a track? Assembling a house/castle/spaceship? Creating a city? Piecing together an outfit/weapon/vehicle from scratch? Significantly more. I've got 3 kids who'd prefer to have blank paper and markers than a coloring page because they have Big Ideas to express. I don't think my kids are unique--I truly believe every kid has the potential to imagine and create--IF they're given the right toys and tools to employ their imagination and creativity.

For all these reasons I believe there is huge untapped potential for the girl market in Legos. Then I went online this morning to read the news and found this. Which I immediately sent to Mr. D with a request that I get stock in Lego Corp. for Christmas because by golly, it's about to happen! For all of the money Lego poured in to gaining the rights to and developing product lines for Pirates of the Caribbean and Harry Potter and Star Wars, I argue they can spend a pittance on some of the popular girl brands and gain traction. Imagine an American Girl-themed Lego world. Think of it! The perfect trifecta of education, creativity and positive identity development in a single toy line!

Spill it, reader. Are you with me? Do girls like to build? And more importantly, do you see a market for girl-themed Legos*?

I'm off to practice my reading for tonight.


* I know there's a missed opportunity here for exploring the whole gender dynamic of toys and branding and so forth, but for Pete's sake, people, I have 3 boys and a BOOK LAUNCH PARTY TONIGHT, so we're just not going there, okay?

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on the fringe of mr. rodgers' neighborhood

Yesterday I did my Target run super early because I knew game day traffic would be nuts. We live off a major shortcut to Lambeau (we're 20 minutes away from the stadium) and I heard cars going by all day long while I worked in the garden. Twice I had to head out--once to get Mr. T from Robotics Club and again to bring him to soccer practice--both times the cars were 7-10 deep at our tiny intersection in town--game traffic.

Mr. D was at the game and attested to the crush of people. His ears were still ringing this morning from the noise. We could hear the fireworks, see the flyby and feel the excitement from our house. Seriously. The boys and I watched it all from our TV at home, cheering wildly as the Pack showed why they are World Champions. Mr. G and Mr. B wore their team jerseys (Finley and Matthews, respectively) and belly bumped after every touchdown.

What a season opener--the Packers lost nothing in the off-season and proved they'll be contenders again this year. Drew Brees is no slouch as a quarterback, the Saints played a tough game, but little things like that touchdown by Cobb (he flipped and landed on his feet!) added up. And the final play after the pass interference? Mr. D couldn't see it from his spot in the end zone, but the Packers defense sprang up and under like a well-oiled machine and stuck that ball. I kid you not--they actually pushed it back a yard. It was amazing to watch.

Mr. D held up a blue sign during the anthem (part of the flag surrounding the stadium) and held a gold sign at the end of the first quarter. He said the crowd started out mad when Cobb began running the punt return, then began to cheer and erupted when he made it across. We've been to a lot of games, but Mr. D said this was more amped up than any he's attended.

And in a funny side note, there was this big free pre-game concert--Kid Rock, Maroon 5 and Lady Antebellum that brought in even more people than a regular game would. (No joke--Green Bay sent their kids home from school at noon yesterday.) I know so many people wanted to go, including my neighbor gal, J. Well, Mr. D saw it, he was there.

Mr. D: I couldn't believe how many people were there for the concert. They were backed up to 4 rows in front of where we tailgate.

Me: S's sister was there. She's a huge Kid Rock fan.

Mr. D: Yeah, a lot of people were in front of the stage to watch Kid Rock.

Me: He's quite popular.

Mr. D: I don't get the big deal--he's just really loud.

Me: I said he was popular, not talented.

But it's true, that gritty, greasy, long-haired bad boy type has certain appeal.

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green girl sees red

Reading Conservatives Step Up Attacks on Birth Control made Green Girl's blood churn and boil. It's preposterous--the same political party that wants to strip funding from public schools, day cares, preschools, free health care clinics for all thinks birth control is too expensive to fund. Hello? Have you looked at the price of raising a kid these days? Trust Green Girl, pal. Birth control is a hell of a lot cheaper.

And that jab comparing birth control pills to manicures? Green Girl had a whole string of words reacting to that remark. None of them are publishable here, but they made a truck driver overhearing her blush. If a person can view "preventative medicine" for birth control as unnecessary, then pregnancy seems equally so--a preventable condition that health care coverage shouldn't cover. By that standard would you deny women coverage for prenatal care and delivery?

And the whole argument about cheap birth control creating a promiscuous population? Particularly ridiculous. Have you ever met a person who didn't have sex because birth control cost too much? Conversely, have you ever met a person who had more sex because birth control was free or cheap? Sex is a lot of things--yes, it's a behavior, but it's also a biological urge. There's science and emotion involved in sex. But Green Girl prefers to believe most people plan their families and babies these days and are capable of enjoying monogamous intimacy without the stress of worrying about birth control. Promiscuity is the result of a lot of factors--low self-esteem, poor boundaries, emotional trauma, socialization and conditioning. It's not the result of having condoms at hand. Ask any teenaged boy who packed a Trojan in their wallet for all four years of high school if you don't believe Green Girl--they'll tell you: being equipped does not mean you'll see any action.

Then Green Girl considers the argument that people will just stop having babies if they have free/reduced birth control. That's as stupid as comparing birth control to manicures. People have babies. People plan to have babies. People spend millions on fertility treatments to have babies. People wait to have babies. People can't wait to have babies. People who should, have babies. People who maybe should not, have babies. No one is stopping people from having babies if that's what they want--and population studies demonstrate that most people still want to have babies. Maybe better access to birth control will mean people have fewer babies, but Green Girl would argue that's not an entirely bad thing in bad economic times.

Having coverage for birth control does not mean people have to use it. If you're opposed to birth control, Steve King, Sandy Rios, Jeffrey Kuhner, Marjorie Dannenfelser and Helen Alvare, then don't use it. But shame on you for wanting to deny access for the rest of us.
Sex is a gift God gave to us to enjoy--and to procreate with, but a close study of Genesis reveals sex was first a gift to enjoy with our spouse. Continuing to layer sex with shame by denying people the tools they require to enjoy it seems pretty intrusive. Green Girl thinks that people who believe in less government should stay out of other people's bedrooms.

That's enough ranting today, poor reader. Here's an appropriately funny clip on the topic to leave you laughing. Green Girl will be back tomorrow full of positive thoughts and goodwill towards all people:

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it's true, ponyboy. nothing green can stay either.

It's all around me--in the edge of yellow bleeding across the landscape--what was lush green, true green, has begun to fade into the barest shades of gold. The crisp bite in the air at night, the sharp dip from 80 to 60 when the sun sets. I linger beneath my quilt later into the morning, the sunshine taking longer to cross the backyard through my window. The wind has picked up. Occasional flocks of geese briskly pass overhead, intent on making good time to wherever they're going in their perfect V formation. Flies cling to the window screens, escaping into the house thoughout the day to pester us all night. The tips of pumpkin and squash vines are turning brittle and brown. Goldenrod blooms, grasshoppers morph into husks flying through the field in great arcs.



Summer's ending. I feel it in my bones, I see the signs everywhere I look.



(Green Girl exits STAGE LEFT, weeping in dismay.)

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best summer sounds

Reader, I could close my eyes and tell you exactly the season any time of year. If my nose doesn't give it away first, my ears pick up the hum and buzz.



Crickets--rhythmically lulling me to sleep. What is cozier than a cricket's chirp?

The slap-bang of screen doors.

The snap of beans pulled free from the vine, the gentle thud as they land in my bucket.

Morning birds, finches, robins, sparrows, swallows, doves--but NOT the crow's jarring caw!

The crack when the bat hits the ball and the slow building roaring cheer when the crowd realizes--then reacts..

Splashing water, the ker-plunk of a cannonball, the sploosh of a dive, the squirt of a water gun's ammunition hitting the mark.

Ice cubes clinking in a glass.

The steady gust from a window fan, the tiny rattle as it vibrates.



Spill it, reader. Your favorite summer sound.

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in pictures

We entertained heavily all weekend--finally dumped out the ice, put the coolers away, ran a final load of towels through the wash and got caught up with the dishes. Fun times had by all, but equally pleasant to kick back and be quiet today. As I bask in the lovely post-party bliss of a clean floor and leftover raspberry pie (homegrown with REAL whipped cream), I'm thinking of "good things" to share:





This stuff is awesome. SkinCeuticals Physical Fusion UV Defense, SPF 50, broad-spectrum UVA/UVB sunscreen. Tinted, water & sweat resistant, paraben free, chemical-filter free. A sweet nurse from a local cosmetic surgery office gave me a free sample to try in North Carolina and I loved it. I had NO sunburn/tan, it did not feel greasy or heavy on my skin and it lasted really well in the surf and sand. I bought a bottle of it from her today--cannot recommend this product enough to my outdoorsy friends. Fabulous protection, worth every penny. (I'm not keen on product promotion, so you know this is serious when I tell you to check this stuff out.)

Have you caught Zen on Masterpiece Mystery? It's fantastic.

Mr. B playing baseball--he did okay as catcher, but really shone as a batter. His final tournament game was pretty cool--in the second-to-last-inning, he hit a double with 2 RBIs, really helping his team pull ahead. In the final inning, they got through the entire batting order, a great finale to the season.

He looks pretty sharp in that uniform.




Team Testosterone has been making movies, movies starring a big black dog. Behold! Even the Coen brothers started out in their own back yard, right?

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stormy weather

The squalls keep coming--vicious thunderstorms with lightning tearing apart the sky. Mr. G hates storms and has consequently dragged 3/4 of his worldly possessions to the basement for safety's sake. He's convinced (thanks to Tornado Awareness Week) that our house will be destroyed and only the basement will be okay. For the record, his room's upstairs, so there's a constant stream of stuffed animals, tinker toys, Legos and bedding left along his route down one hallway, down a flight of stairs, through the kitchen and down the steps to the basement. Things get dropped along the way and I pass through and think of the Oregon Trail and all the settler's belongings strewn by the side of the wheel ruts in the ground.

My gardens are flattening as the wind and rain pelts down. The sunflowers lean sideways, the daisies look like giants have stepped through the beds.

On a happy note, I don't need to water anything with these storms. I only have to set the chairs upright and kick the random Bey Blades out of my way when I move through my kitchen.

I'm struck by the power of these storms, they are magnificent to watch through the safety of my windows. The thunder reverberates in my heart and it's really something to see the world illuminated in total darkness with a single flash of electricity.

Spill it, reader. How does the stormy weather go down in your neck of the woods?

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musing on the news

As if I needed another reason to never shop at Wal-Mart, right?

Mr. D is back safe and sound from Omaha. He lived the dream, breathing baseball the entire weekend. He was also amazed at the flooding in that area, a news story getting much less press than news stories about wieners and weenies. It's tragic to see all those farms, all those homes under water. I cannot imagine the horror those poor people are experiencing as they evacuate their homes, businesses and lives along the Missouri and Mississippi.

This logic has me chuckling:

Some Republican White House hopefuls — notably Rep. Michele Bachman of Minnesota — question the scientific consensus that greenhouse gases are likely a leading cause of climate change.

"Carbon dioxide is natural. It occurs in earth," Bachman said during a 2009 floor speech, as the House was considering cap and trade legislation. "Carbon dioxide is not a harmful gas. It is a harmless gas."

Let's examine that for a moment, shall we?

"Snake venom/poison ivy/arsenic is natural. It occurs in earth." Therefore: "Snake venom/poison ivy/arsenic is not harmful."

Why should Sarah Palin be the only idiot woman (goodness knows there are plenty of idiot men) vying for political power? Not to generalize GOP frontrunners or anything ...

Finally, I'm really conflicted about this. On the one hand, I agree with the point they're making. On the other hand, I do feel there's something to be said about how one presents their body--your image is selling a message, whether you like it or not. If you sell the message that you're sexually available, it shouldn't come as a shock that others view you as a sexual object (although the way women are objectified does not result from mere wardrobe choices, it's an ingrained cultural value perpetrated in a myriad of ways--a more complicated issue than wearing a midriff top or showing butt cleavage with low rise jeans). Frankly, I wish the Slutwalkers wouldn't try to replace Take Back the Night. The bigger issue is empowering women, and dressing (or in this case, undressing) doesn't strike me as helpful.

Spill it, reader. What news has you musing?

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a tale of two doctors

Over a week ago I made an appointment to see my doctor--my head was plugged solid with gunk, throbbing and aching badly. I couldn't catch my breath. I've caught pneumonia in the last couple springs (I have asthma, so anything settling in my chest gets complicated), so I wanted to be proactive. My doctor is a gentle man, the father of 4 sweet daughters and mild-mannered as the day is long. He felt my symptoms hadn't been around long enough to merit antibiotics, so Dr. Waitandsee suggested I take an over-the-counter sinus medication and recommended I keep using my inhalers as I'd been doing. He was reluctant to prescribe anything stronger, certain that I'd heal within a few days. I left his office skeptical but I followed Dr. Waitandsee's instructions to the letter, taking the OTC drugs, puffing on my inhalers, swishing saline through my nasal passages and spending most afternoons lying in bed wishing I had energy to pursue my regular activity.

Yesterday I saw the doctor on call. My head was still plugged, my ears still stuffy, my head still achy, and now? Now I wheezed--like that Penguin squeaky toy in Toy Story II. I kept losing my breath, I'd wake several times a night coughing unproductively. I still lay in bed every afternoon, my life piling up in disarray while I lingered in illness (doesn't that last bit sound so gothically romantic?). Dr. Oncall had a firm handshake and brisk manner (I could easily picture him golfing, he wore a polo shirt and brought in an assistant to type his notes into the computer), checked over my chart, lobbed questions at me and inspected my ears, throat and lungs. Like a general mapping out battle strategy, he assessed me and my health history. Ear infection confirmed, not quite pneumonia, but definitely requiring a one-two punch of better pharmaceutical power. He prescribed a Z-pack of antibiotics, oral steroids and stronger inhaler. "This should get you back on your feet within 24 hours," he assured me, shaking my hand again with exuberant Alpha Male confidence.

Reader, I kind of like Dr. Oncall. I'd love to know what he'd have told me a week ago. My right ear still burns a little and I can't hear 100% yet, I woke up with another headache, but the wheezing has stopped and my lungs feel like they're at 75% capacity--all inside of 24 hours. I think I might even go the whole day without needing a nap. Have you ever switched doctors within the same practice? Is it as diplomatically challenging as switching hair stylists? When I'm down and out, I don't want cautious TLC, I want BLTC (Better Living Through Chemicals) from a doctor willing to treat my symptoms aggressively.

And reader, I promise if you come to visit me (because you're on a book tour, vacationing, en route to a Packer game) I will honor you and your travel companions with a cheese platter and New Glarus beer. Proper Dairyland hospitality guaranteed.

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countdowns make me crabby

The week after Christmas has always made me feel blue. I used to think it was a natural let-down after the hype preceding Christmas day--similar to the way one feels the morning after their wedding, bleary and faintly tinged with regret that all the excitement is over in a flash and somehow you missed parts of it because it was all too much at once. Lately I've realized that it's all the "end of the year" lists that make me feel melancholy. Whether "Best of" or "Worst of," these lists result in me feeling:

a) a little sad because the entire last year is past, finished, over forever. No going back. No reliving it. This is silly because a year is merely an arbitrary measurement of time, why not feel this way at the end of every day? Week? Month? But our society chooses to focus on the passage of years, it's a contrived sense of nostalgia. I hate being manipulated, told to feel this passage of time just because Auld Lang Syne is playing on the airwaves. Everywhere I look-- newspapers, blogs, magazines, TV shows--I'm treated to a "look back" at the "Songs of 2010" or the "Film of 2010" or "Top News Stories of 2010." I don't care to look back, I'm a forward-thinking kind of gal, loath to revisit my past, far more interested in what's coming up next.

b) like I missed something. Lists have an inevitable effect on us Type A people--they're assignments, right? So when I see lists ("Best TV Shows of 2010") I feel responsible for at least hearing about them, if not actually having watched them. But you cannot keep up with all the contents of all these lists of media, trends, hits, stories. I hate feeling left out, and these end of the year lists make me feel like I'm falling short of some sort of standard. (But don't worry, reader. I'm efficient at blocking my media intake. I've learned to ignore the magazine covers, TV news shows and most radio programs in an act of self-preservation.)

c) sorrowful--what opportunities did I miss? That whole year is over now! What didn't I accomplish? Oh, a girl could get all knotted up thinking of these things, flipping backwards through the calendar of time.

It's not post-Christmas blues causing my angst, it's all the damn "End of the Year" talk. That's why I'm tuning out all the retrospective stuff. Today is Wednesday, it's a few days after Christmas. I'm only counting down days until I leave for Iowa for Christmas with my in-laws. I'm only counting down thank you notes my kids need to write. I'm only counting the minutes until we hit the sledding hill today. I'm leaving the tree be, I'm noshing on Christmas fudge and watching A Christmas Story tonight. For now I'm using this week to extend my Christmas, not get all weepy and weird about it being the end of anything.

Spill it, reader. Are you inclined to look back or are you like me, focused on what's coming next?

Remember, every comment this week is an entry to win December's FABULOUS: a trio of things hand made by ME! Raspberry jam, wool hand mitts, good-for-you granola. I'll pick a winner on Monday!

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if we spoke on the phone, this is what you'd hear me say

You know Mr. G is beyond tired when he starts wailing about a button falling off his favorite camouflage pants--"That was my favorite button!" I'm glad I can wield a needle and thread with skill and speed.

Arranging activities for 2 kids is easier than it is for 3.

But the house seems empty with Mr. T at camp.

Packing for Boy Scout camp is an undertaking on par with planning a wedding.

Or taking a newborn on a weekend trip.

I'm horribly behind in reading...newspapers, blogs, books.

I estimated it would take me a month to complete my to-do list.

Then I remembered the Photo Album Project.

I added 60 days to my original estimation.

An appraiser came through yesterday. I never know whether to tag along or let people do their thing when they come to work at our house. I generally back off, but stay within shouting distance just in case.

I'm involved in a Good Deed that is taking a lot of time. It began with a kid needing help filling out college paperwork. It has morphed into much, much more.

I knocked away the start of a wasps' nest in our front door. The nerve!

I'm unable to keep up with the beans. And the damn zucchini are so sneaky--one day they're tiny little stubs, the next, they're as long as my arm. Sheesh.

I'm 1/3 of the way through my manuscript revisions. My pace is slower than I'd hoped, but it's mostly going well.

I came up with a terrific drinking game while watching Mad Men. Every time they reach over to grab a bottle of booze off a sideboard, you take a drink. I'd be tooted up after one episode! It's incredible how frequently the characters reach over to spin the cap off a bottle of liquor. After closing a deal. After coming home from the office. After watching the news. After dinner. After sex. After fighting. Before going to bed. It's fascinating. Did people really keep glasses and bottles so convenient in every room and office like that in the 60's? I cannot think of a single liquor I'd have at the ready like that, can you?

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back in the saddle again

In typical hyper-sensitive OCD form, I'm scrubbing down every surface in our house to keep the rest of my family healthy. It feels good to pull things together again, wipe away the dust and cobwebs, cook a healthy meal, catch up with all the laundry. I tossed back the last antibiotic before bed and hope to regain my acute sense of smell by bedtime tonight.

I met with my Type A Anal-Retentive Should be a CPA, Not a Ecologist Federal CRP person Friday. She's a bean counter by nature and the federal rules and guidelines for CRP property make her even more By the Book. Sadly, nature gives a crap what the federal guidelines are. Trees and grasses will grow where they please, thankyouverymuch. I despise our meetings, but the financial incentive through this program is a great motivator. I may have come off a little harsh, however, when I sniped that "I'm NOT spraying Round-Up around 1,900 tree seedlings. I have a life. We'll keep mowing and do our best for weed control, but you knew the site conditions before we agreed to this and we're following your recommendations."

Then I passed my sword form module test for Mr. O Saturday morning.

And I finished reading May's Bumble Book Club pick.

I went grocery shopping--a very different crowd there on a Sunday afternoon. I'm a Monday evening shopper, mingling with shoppers coming straight from work. They put much healthier food in their carts than the Sunday shoppers--salads, broasted chicken, gallons of milk. Sunday I passed one other cart that didn't carry 2-3 cases of soda. The Sunday afternoon shoppers also collectively looked like hell, puffy, pale, flaccid people with dead eyes and unsmiling faces. I blame their diet, I really do.

I have no Reveal today, our Super Secret Project won't wrap up until May 1st because a critical part hasn't been shipped yet.

Instead I bring you April's FABULOUS! The Blue Virgin by M.K. Graff is the best type of murder mystery--it's a COZY. (I do love cozies, I'm not a blood-guts-gore kind of mystery reader.)

The mysterious death of Bryn Wallace draws American author Nora Tierney to Oxford to clear her close friend Val Rogan, who has been wrongfully accused of Bryn's murder. Or has she? Nora quickly becomes embroiled in the murder investigation, much, to the dismay of Detective Inspector Declan Barnes and the illustrator of Nora's children's book, Simon Ramsey. Simon's efforts to save Nora from herself become increasingly frantic as Nora is forced to use her wits and wiles to prove Val's innocence.

Doesn't that sound like a really good read? Marni (AKA "M.K. Graff") has a gift for creating engaging characters and vivid settings. The Blue Virgin takes place in Oxford, England, and as a self-proclaimed Anglophile, I adored it.

I'll draw a lucky Fabulous winner out of the comment box Sunday, so leave your comments all week to increase your chance at winning this book!

And speaking of virgins, blue and otherwise, spill it, reader. What have you never done? I'll go first: I've never ridden on a snowmobile, been to Las Vegas or drank any of those pre-bottled cocktail drinks like Mike's Hard Lemonade.

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hack n' rant

I've been on a horse pill of an antibiotic since Thursday (twice a day with food) and things are still pretty grim. Last night I was lying in bed and swore I heard the cat purring. Turns out it was the gunk in my lungs making that sound when I breathed. I've never had pneumonia before (to my knowledge) and let me tell you, it wipes you out. I have no energy. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Plus I sound like a chain smoker every time I cough or laugh. And now my sinuses are clogged giving me a headache and stuffed ears. Being sick stinks.

Last night I flipped through the channels a little and saw an ad for something called "Yaz." It is just me or is that the dumbest name ever? Yaz. That is a stupid name for anything--medicinal, edible, mechanical or requiring some assembly.

And Dixie Carter died last week which got me to thinking about TV shows I miss. Designing Women and Murphy Brown. Ed and Northern Exposure. News Radio and Wings and Spin City. What happened to the well-crafted sitcom? What happened to smart, strong female characters like Murphy and Maggie and Helen and Nikki? My friends tell me they're all on CSI: Miami/New York/Cleveland or on cable in shows like Weeds and The Closer.

Spill it, reader. What are you watching these days? What TV shows do you miss? Warning: if you watch this with coffee in your mouth, you will require a napkin.

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conundrums

To wrap a very busy day, I had a Happyland PTA meeting last night. Frankly, I was NOT looking forward to it--the agenda was pretty full and some topics could lead to disagreements. I know my mind and vision for the Happyland PTA, but since I can sometimes come off as a forceful personality, I try to quelch myself and bite my tongue. As president, it's awfully easy to get my way--but I don't want to be that kind of leader. The group has to make the decisions, or else they don't get behind things 100% and support our initiatives. If I throw my weight around, resentment and grumbling follow and people won't get involved or stay involved.

Yesterday morning a lady called me (I'll call her Grandma D)--she's a senior citizen working in a classroom in our district. She'd attended her granddaughter's class in another district and fell head over heels in love with the Smart Board they used. She then asked our district's administration to buy some SmartBoards.

In short, the technology situation in Happyland is dismal. I heard from one of the horse's mouths that they planned to buy 3 Smart Boards for the elementary school for next year. Happyland has about 800 students. Clearly the technology initiatives for the building fall far short of the needs. The plan is fragmented and makes inefficient and wasteful use of technology and without a clear vision, the staff training is equally ineffective. The result is One Giant Mess. A Mess that I've dabbled in before and a Mess I'm quite knowledgeable about.

In previous meetings, Happyland PTA has decided NOT to throw good money after bad, refusing to fund any technology for the building because it's such a clusterf*cuk of mismanagement and poor decision making. We have decided to create a committee to advocate for change in front of the school board. It's about the only place where meaningful change can take place.

Meanwhile, Grandma D didn't like the response she got from the main office and went out and charged a Smart Board to her credit card and presented it to the classroom teacher she works with. She didn't want the class to have to share the Smart Board, it was a personal donation to one classroom with a desperate hope that administrators would be SO blown away by technology in the hands of these youngsters that they'd go out and buy more Smart Boards.

Trouble is, Grandma D can't afford the Smart Board. She called me to ask if the Happyland PTA can help her hold a raffle to raise money to pay for the Smart Board. I told her she may use our next event as a venue to sell tickets--but that's it.

There were (predictably) reasonable concerns about this after she pitched her cause at our meeting last night. After she left, I reminded people, "This is Grandma D's raffle, not PTA's. We only promised her a spot for a table and people walking past. We made no other promises. She is in charge of this raffle, it was her donation, this is her cause."

Part of me feels bad for a sweet old lady with a heart bigger than her wallet. Her enthusiasm is awesome. Her methods? Well, that's the problem, isn't it? You can't make a private donations with strings attached and then ask other people to pay your bill. You can't dump technology in schools and expect it to automatically be a good investment. Smart Boards require training--I'm betting the teacher who now has this technology is using about 1/4 of it's potential. It's a fancy toy, but is it enriching curriculum? And then there's the question of technology and curriculum--which should be the driving force? Without a strong curriculum and technology director in place, the result is a hodgepodge of pieces unrelated to one another--and most likely NOT benefiting students. What happens when one classroom out of four in a grade level have full-time access to technology? What happens to these kids next year and the year after when they return to classrooms without Smart Boards?

I'm not against Smart Boards. I do believe it is one of many powerful teaching tools. Yet other gadgets cost less money and provide students many of the same advantages. I'm not against private donations. I do take issue with impulsive donations that haven't been thought through.

It's a muddle, I tell you. But happily, the rest of the meeting went really well and the Happyland PTA accomplished the agenda items on time, with healthy discussion and with clear plans for our goals and visions for the future of Happyland Elementary.
That? Makes me feel pretty darn good.

Spill it, reader. What challenges is your PTA facing? How's your group handling it?

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