s is for slumdog February 23, 2009

I watched most of the Oscars on TV last night.  I agree with the choice for Best Picture.  I liked “Slumdog Millionaire.”  I thought the storytelling technique was genius and I loved the glimpse into a life in the slums of Mumbai that I cannot possibly understand.  I loved the bright colors and the music.  I loved the faces of the young children.  I enjoyed the exploration of the themes of loyalty and love.

But here’s what I really liked.  I like the young actor who portrays Jamal, Dev Patel.  Did you see him last night on the Oscars?  He is a tall, handsome young man.  He always has a smile.  On stage he was holding one of the tiny actors up so she could see what was going on.  He has a face that is familiar to me and although I have never met him, he seems like his is someone I know.   Like a combination of someone my kids went to preschool with and someone I met in college and someone I bump into at church each week.  He has an indefinable likability that I haven’t seen in an actor for a long time, not since Tom Hanks.  I hope he enjoys a long and successful career and makes wise choices to go along with his new found fame.

The Oscars are over and it’s a new week.  Time to switch from the fantasy of Hollywood to the reality of site reviews and work outs and putting out fires at home and abroad.  But for a couple of hours last night it was fun to escape to Hollywood!

g is for gloomy February 18, 2009

It’s a rainy Wednesday and it feels good to have made it to midweek.  My in-box is fuller than I like it, but it makes me thankful for meaningful work and a life that is moving forward.

Today includes a meeting to plan a conference, routine lab work for a check-up I had recently, preparations for a friends birthday, and more. Perhaps its the foggy damp gloom outside that prevents me from getting too excited about any of it.

Last night we broke free from routine and watched a movie on a Tuesday night.  ”Ghost Town.”  It stars the guy from the British version of the Office and was really quite funny in an odd sort of way.  

So you can go ahead and break free on a Tuesday, but then guess what:  there is still laundry to fold and dishes to put away and math homework (speaking collectively as a family here) and insurance forms to fill out.  

Perhaps foggy damp gloom is the perfect weather for to day.

h is for high school February 11, 2009

Yesterday my youngest child brought a book home from school, entitled “High School Course Catalog.”  I am just not okay with this.

Wasn’t it also just yesterday that I found 2-year-old him outside playing in the snow in a t-shirt and diaper?

Wasn’t it just a couple of days ago when we were learning spelling words while simultaneously jumping rope in the driveway?

Wasn’t it just yesterday that it was his turn to feed the kindergarten fish for the weekend?

Wasn’t it just last week that he dressed up as James Bond for Halloween?

Our youngest child with the big blue eyes and blond hair, who hates to read, who loves to jump and run and climb things, is now choosing his classes for high school.  He is 6 feet tall, an accomplished runner, singer, actor, and friend.  He picked his classes with confidence, knowing just what he wanted, making practical choices after considering all his options quickly.  My reading aloud of the course descriptions was a tolerated irritation, much more for my sake than for his.

He’s ready to go.  I, on the other hand, would happily spend today learning spelling words in the driveway.

f is for family routine February 9, 2009

After a week away, last week I am gearing up for a regular week.  That has a nice ring to it.  A steady routine of up early, head to the gym, an hour at my desk, get ready for work, do some good for people, pick up Thomas head home.  An hour at my desk.  An hour of Gilmore Girls while multi tasking.  Fix dinner.  Hang with the family in the evening.  Do a few chores.

Routine for a time is blissful, then alternates to burdensome before I know it.  I love having some excitement on the radar!  Like Germany and Cambridge. 

Over the weekend I enjoyed spending time with J over coffee Saturday morning and then shopping and lunch with my mom.  T was around all weekend, cracking me up and learning a new song on guitar.  He and J finished insulating the attic on Saturday, a very tough job well done.  We talked to C yesterday and learned that he is missing popcorn, Schnucks donuts and Pa.  Two of those we can take care of with a small care package.  I wrote a couple of Valentines last night, thinking of Grandma June who was always so faithful about sending cards to all of us grandkids and tucking in a dollar.  

So back to the routine of family and work life.  Although experience tells me no week is really routine.  Learning to embrace the surprises and interruptions, the revelation of a new direction is not a skill that comes naturally to me.  But the rest of life is pretty much in place, so I’ll be excited to see what develops.

c is for customer service February 4, 2009

What do you expect for your $45,000 a year college experience?  If you go to Harvard, do not expect good customer service.  Instead, here’s what you can expect:

1.  The food is not good.  Except for cinnamon roll Saturdays, you can not count on anything tasty.

2.  Financial aid will not call you back and will not speak to your parents, even if they are paying the bills.

3.  The heat in your dorm room is non-existent.  Bring warm socks and dress in layers.

4.  The classes they tell you will count for something can be suddenly discredited with no warning and no apparent reason.  

5.  The classes they tell you will not count for something can suddenly made to count, again with no warning and no apparent reason.

6.  They will store your stuff for you and return approximately 56% of the items you stored.

Fortunately, one does not go to Harvard for the customer service.  For that, you have Target.  Harvard is apparently a good school.  They know it and they know everyone else knows it, so serving their students and the parents of those students with excellent customer service is not a priority.  Fine.

But maybe they could turn on heat.

a is for austin February 2, 2009

I am safely ensconced in a lovely guest room at Engelbrecht House at Wizard Academy in Austin, Texas.  Today, I flew to Dallas then to Austin, rented a car, spent a lovely hour at Whole Foods’ flagship store and then meandered through the hills southwest of Austin to this hillside jewel.

I spent the last hour sitting out in the dark watching the stars, listening to the wild things make noises in the brush and talked on the phone with my beloved daughter.  Her stories sent my giggles into the moonlit night.  I was huddled under a down blanket with satin trim, one of the best by far features of my well appointed guest room.

Tomorrow I will take a writing class.  I will learn how to write for radio and internet.  And I will do this with a bunch a strangers.  So in the morning I will fortify with coffee and a brisk walk, enter the communal kitchen to fix my breakfast and decide to make friends.  All the while looking forward to once again being safe back inside in this lovely little room.

I’m watching the entire first season of West Wing.  Well, so far about four episodes.  My brother kind of freaked me out today when he said that he had also chosen West Wing as his companion on his last trip.  That’s freakishly coincidental, or not.

I did some work for work, I did a facebook note of 25 random things about me, and I talked and texted with those I love.  Time to sleep, then get up and learn.  Good night.