In my AP Lang class, we have been reading the American Romantics and Transcendentalists and I keep referring to songs that have the same themes and motifs. These poor babies just look at me like I am too far gone.
When I told Jack that they knew nothing good (not to belittle their music, but goodness, they need to branch out), we decided to undertake their music education starting now. Last week I opened by having Pink Floyd's "Time" playing and the lyrics up on the projector when they walked in. (I am sure their will be lots of revisits to Carpe Diem in the coming weeks.). Pink Floyd? Five out of twenty had heard of them. Only two had heard them, actually listened to a song.
Today, we will be reading Emerson's "Self Reliance" and they get to listen to Oingo Boingo's "We Close Our Eyes." Next week when we sample some Walden, it is Talking Heads and "Flowers." And then we will talk about irony. The darkness of anti-transcendentalism will be next and then the gritty realism of the Civil War and new frontiers. Not sure what music will happen then or when I get on my Kate Chopin feminism kick. Jack thinks spoken word poetry should be done with Cake.
If there is some vital song that I need bring to their world, by all means, share!
It is unclear if I will be deemed cool or just weird, but I do remember Ann playing some They Might Be Giants in our Joe Campbell class. Ann was such an amazing teacher - she let me have opinions. Then she taught me to defend them.
Ooh, Giants need to go in the list.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Whirl
My life is this weird series of being a single parent weeks divided by learning to be a wife again weeks. So far it has gone fairly smoothly, perhaps because I remember how hard it was when we did this before. On and off for our first three years, Jack worked in Guthrie during the week and came home on weekends. I purely hated it. We weren't very good at being married yet - I remember thinking that marrying Jack was such a disservice to him, that we surely had to find our footing soon lest we end up miserable. When he was away, I did my own thing, cooked as I pleased, watched what I wanted. And when he came home, it was hard to switch into being a partner. I know I feared him leaving for Guthrie angry so I tiptoed around anything that might displease him. I loved him doing those rooms in Guthrie, but looking back, it wasn't a good way to begin a life.
This time around, we seem to be on more even ground. Maybe we learned each other enough that I am confident in us, but when he is home, we slide right back into real life fairly well. We miss him when he is gone, but I am too busy to fuss.
I desperately needed fall break and wish I weren't already sucked back into the merry-go-round whirl that is school and home. So far, as long as I can make it a week, Jack comes home again and I get to share, both the joys and the stress. He thinks November will be a long month of him being mostly gone - I am already telling myself, "two months until Christmas Break," and then I realize it is only two months until Christmas. Talk about whirl.
There are plenty of bright spots - and there is plenty of stress. This is what I read in your blogs, reading that you are trying to find that balance, that way through. It is supposed to lovely here the next few days - if you can, stop and breathe. Look around and breathe some more. The whirl will still be there, but draw on those who help you, draw on that strength within.
This time around, we seem to be on more even ground. Maybe we learned each other enough that I am confident in us, but when he is home, we slide right back into real life fairly well. We miss him when he is gone, but I am too busy to fuss.
I desperately needed fall break and wish I weren't already sucked back into the merry-go-round whirl that is school and home. So far, as long as I can make it a week, Jack comes home again and I get to share, both the joys and the stress. He thinks November will be a long month of him being mostly gone - I am already telling myself, "two months until Christmas Break," and then I realize it is only two months until Christmas. Talk about whirl.
There are plenty of bright spots - and there is plenty of stress. This is what I read in your blogs, reading that you are trying to find that balance, that way through. It is supposed to lovely here the next few days - if you can, stop and breathe. Look around and breathe some more. The whirl will still be there, but draw on those who help you, draw on that strength within.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Anchor
I know that a girl is supposed to be "daddy's girl," and I know when I was
little, I was, but as an adult my mama is probably my best friend.
I love to be with my dad - I can think of a lot of moments that are perfect. But I get my love of words, cooking, and weird sense of humor from my mom. It is she who taught me to love James Thurber and how satisfying it can be to make a perfect roux.
Really, mom is that best friend and glue for all of us. After dinner on Sundays, dad goes outside to work on the farm, but mama sits at the table carrying on several different conversations with her tribe of children and grandchildren until she weaves them all into one. Dad comes back in for the finish and dessert, but mama has anchored us through the afternoon.
She is in the hospital this week with gallstones and pancreatitis. And of course this happened when she was searching for a new doctor. She started out in Duncan, but her condition worsened and Thursday, she was moved to Baptist Integris where there are specialists. The doctors there were planning on doing an endoscopic surgery yesterday to remove gallstones - they might have been blocking a bile duct, but that did not happen. As of yesterday, her enzyme numbers were getting better so surgery has been postponed until next week, in hopes that her pancreas can heal a little before the gall bladder is removed. My mom is also diabetic which always complicates everything.
I don't drive in the city. This country mouse barely drives at all. Yesterday mom was knocked out for tests but might be awake today and I think at least two of siblings are going up. I will try to meet them in Chickasha and ride up with them. I saw her Thursday when she was in Duncan's hospital and she seemed so vulnerable.
It has been a long week of worrying for mom- I know we are all thinking of a relative who spent months in the hospital with the same issue and almost died over it. It has been a long week of not being able to call her and hear about her week. I have missed her emails, book discussions, and political analysis. I think this is the first time since we moved (other than being snowed in at Christmas) that I have felt cut off from the family.
I am reminded this week of how fragile life is and of the strength so many of you must gather up each day, just to keep moving forward. My circle of friends, you have parents with dementia and Alzheimer's, you have broken bones, you have lost spouses and parents, you have faced cancer and fear and sickness. Yet, you put on faith, the armor or faith, and walk it out. You walk out of the darkness and into the sun again and again.
little, I was, but as an adult my mama is probably my best friend.
I love to be with my dad - I can think of a lot of moments that are perfect. But I get my love of words, cooking, and weird sense of humor from my mom. It is she who taught me to love James Thurber and how satisfying it can be to make a perfect roux.
Really, mom is that best friend and glue for all of us. After dinner on Sundays, dad goes outside to work on the farm, but mama sits at the table carrying on several different conversations with her tribe of children and grandchildren until she weaves them all into one. Dad comes back in for the finish and dessert, but mama has anchored us through the afternoon.
She is in the hospital this week with gallstones and pancreatitis. And of course this happened when she was searching for a new doctor. She started out in Duncan, but her condition worsened and Thursday, she was moved to Baptist Integris where there are specialists. The doctors there were planning on doing an endoscopic surgery yesterday to remove gallstones - they might have been blocking a bile duct, but that did not happen. As of yesterday, her enzyme numbers were getting better so surgery has been postponed until next week, in hopes that her pancreas can heal a little before the gall bladder is removed. My mom is also diabetic which always complicates everything.
I don't drive in the city. This country mouse barely drives at all. Yesterday mom was knocked out for tests but might be awake today and I think at least two of siblings are going up. I will try to meet them in Chickasha and ride up with them. I saw her Thursday when she was in Duncan's hospital and she seemed so vulnerable.
It has been a long week of worrying for mom- I know we are all thinking of a relative who spent months in the hospital with the same issue and almost died over it. It has been a long week of not being able to call her and hear about her week. I have missed her emails, book discussions, and political analysis. I think this is the first time since we moved (other than being snowed in at Christmas) that I have felt cut off from the family.
I am reminded this week of how fragile life is and of the strength so many of you must gather up each day, just to keep moving forward. My circle of friends, you have parents with dementia and Alzheimer's, you have broken bones, you have lost spouses and parents, you have faced cancer and fear and sickness. Yet, you put on faith, the armor or faith, and walk it out. You walk out of the darkness and into the sun again and again.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Happy Eleven, Jack Rucker
By now eleven years ago Jack and I had abandoned the family at my folks house and stolen home to our first house with a stash of corn bread salad and cheesecake that we had liberated from the post wedding picnic. I do not remember if we even had a bottle of wine though something tells me there might have been champagne.
We haven't ever managed to do a good job of celebrating our anniversary. I recall at least 2 that Jack spent sick. He worked nights on at least three. There is always something.
Today began with Jack in Alva, and Bell and I slogging through the rain to a wet soccer field at 8:45 only to discover that I read the schedule wrong and our game was at 10, not 9. We went to back to the car with our wet selves where Bell promptly dumped an entire 12 oz cup of hot chocolate in her lap in my from seat. 30 minutes we slogged back across the sloppy grounds to field 6. I had an umbrella and a raincoat but was soaked to skin by the time our four quarters were spent. As we walked back up the hill, Bell said that tadpoles could swim in her shoes. They were that wet.
We changed into dry clothes and managed to get lunch and a slew of errands ran including getting Bell's eyes checked and groceries bought.
We came home to Jack, laundry going, the typical chaos of his coming in after a week away combined with a chocolate car and groceries to deal with. I had planned on a picnic of bread, cheese, and wine - typical date night food for us. Quite unromantically, we had a 7 year old between us and the movie of the night is Men in Black 3.
You know, that is okay. I came home to a husband who knows when I am at the end my rope energy wise. He knows when I am sad or angry or just overwhelmed. And whatever it is that day, he rises to the challenge and does what he can to smooth the rest of the day into something I can handle. He forgives me when I am impatient and tired. He still thinks I am beautiful.
I came home to a family that we created. Later in the fall or winter, when he can take a day off, maybe we can go away for a day or two. Maybe once with Bell and once just us. But tonight, after a week of single parenting, I will take family night over romance.
Even though I loved the man I married, he has grown to be a far better man, as handsome as ever, but more patient, kinder, and gentle with me and that blond haired love that lives with us.
We have given each other far more than we dreamed of eleven years ago. Love is a richer than thing than I imagined. Happy Eleven, Jack Dear.
We haven't ever managed to do a good job of celebrating our anniversary. I recall at least 2 that Jack spent sick. He worked nights on at least three. There is always something.
Today began with Jack in Alva, and Bell and I slogging through the rain to a wet soccer field at 8:45 only to discover that I read the schedule wrong and our game was at 10, not 9. We went to back to the car with our wet selves where Bell promptly dumped an entire 12 oz cup of hot chocolate in her lap in my from seat. 30 minutes we slogged back across the sloppy grounds to field 6. I had an umbrella and a raincoat but was soaked to skin by the time our four quarters were spent. As we walked back up the hill, Bell said that tadpoles could swim in her shoes. They were that wet.
We changed into dry clothes and managed to get lunch and a slew of errands ran including getting Bell's eyes checked and groceries bought.
We came home to Jack, laundry going, the typical chaos of his coming in after a week away combined with a chocolate car and groceries to deal with. I had planned on a picnic of bread, cheese, and wine - typical date night food for us. Quite unromantically, we had a 7 year old between us and the movie of the night is Men in Black 3.
You know, that is okay. I came home to a husband who knows when I am at the end my rope energy wise. He knows when I am sad or angry or just overwhelmed. And whatever it is that day, he rises to the challenge and does what he can to smooth the rest of the day into something I can handle. He forgives me when I am impatient and tired. He still thinks I am beautiful.
I came home to a family that we created. Later in the fall or winter, when he can take a day off, maybe we can go away for a day or two. Maybe once with Bell and once just us. But tonight, after a week of single parenting, I will take family night over romance.
Even though I loved the man I married, he has grown to be a far better man, as handsome as ever, but more patient, kinder, and gentle with me and that blond haired love that lives with us.
We have given each other far more than we dreamed of eleven years ago. Love is a richer than thing than I imagined. Happy Eleven, Jack Dear.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Rainy Day Apple Pie
I have been busier than I like lately. With Jack back at work, I have been poorly juggling home, soccer, school, and family obligations.
One of the balls that got dropped was spending enough time with Harold and Rubilee while Jack is away at work. He was home most of the weekend, but left again Sunday. When I went by Monday, Harold was as poorly as I have ever seen him, depressed and drained of energy, still in his pajamas and all but giving up on life. I stayed a long time visiting, and though he didn't have the energy to visit, just having company seemed to perk him up a bit.
Yesterday he got up and had a normal day, at least as normal as any day is when one is hooked to an oxygen tank. When I stopped by last night, he was positively chatty, with a pink to his cheeks and a sparkle in his eye. I stayed a long time again, but this was a fun chat about our favorite old movies and memories of his from being a kid in Grand Saline.
I didn't bring home many papers to grade tonight, not because the grading fairy had come, but because it was soccer night. As the afternoon crept on in a drizzle and mist, soccer was postponed until tomorrow. The house was a wee bit cooler and Bella got her homework done without drama or tears or lolly gagging. Not a bad afternoon at all, especially since there was time to bake. Harold has a sweet tooth - he will eat any sweet I make that his false teeth can handle - but his favorite is just an old fashioned apple pie. I still had pie crust from the wedding baking last weekend and I had a fresh bag of honey crisps. I did not have pie pans. Everyone of them is still at Momma's from the wedding dinner.
I made a sheet of little hand pies, apples peaking from the edges, cinnamon and nutmeg and sugar oozing from their seams. Bell and I delivered them warm from the oven just as Harold got home. Today he was still feeling good, still chatty. This evening's memories were of growing sugar cane and making syrup as a child on his daddy's farm. I enjoy these visits. I hope to goodness my cousins are visiting like this with my grandpa, but I fear they don't.
I did not make pie because I had to, but because I could on this rainy day, because there is an old man up on the hill who still has a sweet tooth who might have a good enough appetite to eat dinner if there was a dessert tempting him, because he shares his stories and his family with me. Just so many becauses.
Maybe Rubilee let him have it for supper with ice cream while they watched the rain on the lake.
One of the balls that got dropped was spending enough time with Harold and Rubilee while Jack is away at work. He was home most of the weekend, but left again Sunday. When I went by Monday, Harold was as poorly as I have ever seen him, depressed and drained of energy, still in his pajamas and all but giving up on life. I stayed a long time visiting, and though he didn't have the energy to visit, just having company seemed to perk him up a bit.
Yesterday he got up and had a normal day, at least as normal as any day is when one is hooked to an oxygen tank. When I stopped by last night, he was positively chatty, with a pink to his cheeks and a sparkle in his eye. I stayed a long time again, but this was a fun chat about our favorite old movies and memories of his from being a kid in Grand Saline.
I didn't bring home many papers to grade tonight, not because the grading fairy had come, but because it was soccer night. As the afternoon crept on in a drizzle and mist, soccer was postponed until tomorrow. The house was a wee bit cooler and Bella got her homework done without drama or tears or lolly gagging. Not a bad afternoon at all, especially since there was time to bake. Harold has a sweet tooth - he will eat any sweet I make that his false teeth can handle - but his favorite is just an old fashioned apple pie. I still had pie crust from the wedding baking last weekend and I had a fresh bag of honey crisps. I did not have pie pans. Everyone of them is still at Momma's from the wedding dinner.
I made a sheet of little hand pies, apples peaking from the edges, cinnamon and nutmeg and sugar oozing from their seams. Bell and I delivered them warm from the oven just as Harold got home. Today he was still feeling good, still chatty. This evening's memories were of growing sugar cane and making syrup as a child on his daddy's farm. I enjoy these visits. I hope to goodness my cousins are visiting like this with my grandpa, but I fear they don't.
I did not make pie because I had to, but because I could on this rainy day, because there is an old man up on the hill who still has a sweet tooth who might have a good enough appetite to eat dinner if there was a dessert tempting him, because he shares his stories and his family with me. Just so many becauses.
Maybe Rubilee let him have it for supper with ice cream while they watched the rain on the lake.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Changes and Busyness Blowing in with the Wind
This week has been at a forced breakneck speed. From last Thursday until this Thursday, Jack was well and truly at work except for one late night home. I am so grateful for his return to the working world. I appreciate the salary, but he needed the ability to work to pull him out of a dark morass he was sinking into.
On the other hand, that meant I was solely in charge here. His parents didn't need more than checking on (Harold is unwell, but there is nothing I can do), but there seemed to be a never ending list here. Part of the time went to hauling a kid into soccer practice a few nights. A lot went to grading papers/creating assignments. And a fair amount went to building a puppy pen and starting to house train our new friends: William the Ugly and Sweet Kate. (No, I am not a royalist, but apparently their previous owner was - and now the names seem stuck). Kate and Willie are half corgi and half mutt that looked like there might have been a a very short border collie vaguely associated with his past. And these pups? Well, Kate has a corgi body and border collie coloring. Willie, well, he is just a brown wiggly thing that my child likes .
The other time suck this week is a truly happy thing. My oldest brother, Tucker, is getting married today. Pedicures, dress shopping, and flower girl stuff for Bell has spread out over the past few weeks. Today, though, is the day. There will be the big fancy church wedding and reception, but afterwards, 120 of our family and closest friends will descend on my parents for roasted pig, salads, homemade cheesecakes and pies. We will have dancing, fireworks, and there is a canon that will be fired. Last weekend found us at Momma's helping to repot every plant that been growing in my beds and my grandmother's beds. One night was a marathon night of making pastry crust. Yesterday, I played hooky from school and went to my mom's to churn out 8 coconut cream pies and help a bit more around the farm.
Last night while we were in the rehearsal, a great rain storm came through. The rain was blinding and filled the ditches and flooded the roadways in 30 minutes. When rehearsal was over, I left Bell at the front of the church and went to get the car, sprinting through downpour. As soon as my hair and skin were soaked, it was evident how much I baked as waves of the odors of coconut and buttery pastry crust rolled off me. By the time we got home, my car smelled like a pastry shop.
Today, we are up early for showers and fancy hairdos and being at a church for hours before the wedding begins. I am excited to see our family that has traveled in. I love parties like this one at my parent's house (which is funny since I have never had one of my own) and yes, I love to dress up.
Mostly though, I am so excited and happy for my brother. He is 30 which is not so old at all, but the past 5 years have not been kind to him romantically. Well, maybe they were. Maybe all those years of heartbreak were worth it if it meant finding this girl who seems to make him whole. Last night as I watched Tuck and Lexie walk up the aisle after the rehearsal, the look that they shared was so full of joy and love that it could have powered a city. This is what weddings are about - the finding of love that gives us the joy and wholeness in life, of finding a best friend to share our bliss with.
On the other hand, that meant I was solely in charge here. His parents didn't need more than checking on (Harold is unwell, but there is nothing I can do), but there seemed to be a never ending list here. Part of the time went to hauling a kid into soccer practice a few nights. A lot went to grading papers/creating assignments. And a fair amount went to building a puppy pen and starting to house train our new friends: William the Ugly and Sweet Kate. (No, I am not a royalist, but apparently their previous owner was - and now the names seem stuck). Kate and Willie are half corgi and half mutt that looked like there might have been a a very short border collie vaguely associated with his past. And these pups? Well, Kate has a corgi body and border collie coloring. Willie, well, he is just a brown wiggly thing that my child likes .
The other time suck this week is a truly happy thing. My oldest brother, Tucker, is getting married today. Pedicures, dress shopping, and flower girl stuff for Bell has spread out over the past few weeks. Today, though, is the day. There will be the big fancy church wedding and reception, but afterwards, 120 of our family and closest friends will descend on my parents for roasted pig, salads, homemade cheesecakes and pies. We will have dancing, fireworks, and there is a canon that will be fired. Last weekend found us at Momma's helping to repot every plant that been growing in my beds and my grandmother's beds. One night was a marathon night of making pastry crust. Yesterday, I played hooky from school and went to my mom's to churn out 8 coconut cream pies and help a bit more around the farm.
Last night while we were in the rehearsal, a great rain storm came through. The rain was blinding and filled the ditches and flooded the roadways in 30 minutes. When rehearsal was over, I left Bell at the front of the church and went to get the car, sprinting through downpour. As soon as my hair and skin were soaked, it was evident how much I baked as waves of the odors of coconut and buttery pastry crust rolled off me. By the time we got home, my car smelled like a pastry shop.
Today, we are up early for showers and fancy hairdos and being at a church for hours before the wedding begins. I am excited to see our family that has traveled in. I love parties like this one at my parent's house (which is funny since I have never had one of my own) and yes, I love to dress up.
Mostly though, I am so excited and happy for my brother. He is 30 which is not so old at all, but the past 5 years have not been kind to him romantically. Well, maybe they were. Maybe all those years of heartbreak were worth it if it meant finding this girl who seems to make him whole. Last night as I watched Tuck and Lexie walk up the aisle after the rehearsal, the look that they shared was so full of joy and love that it could have powered a city. This is what weddings are about - the finding of love that gives us the joy and wholeness in life, of finding a best friend to share our bliss with.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Long List Day
My day started a tad bit later than usual - I was headed to the doc for a yearly look over so thought I would sleep until six and forget the makeup routine.
I might have squeezed in an extra fifteen minutes of sleep, but I am just done in now that the day is over and done.
It was the sort of day that allowed for getting Walmart done before 9 and beating crowds, but it was also the sort of that meant I did not find the right hair pins for Bell for her flower girl bit next week at Tuck's wedding . . . Even though I looked in multiple places. On the up side. I did snag a pair of half price jeans from Maurice's and the doc thought I was pretty healthy, though I am going back in a month to do a little bloodwork to see if we can figure out why my hormones are so erratic these days. It will be one of those fasting things so I will go n fall break instead of miss more school.
I went to get a damaged toenail repaired and came away with a full manicure and pedicure - that was a bit odd for me. I have never had my nails done - wish I hadn't let it happen now. They are a bloody nuisance. Not sure how I am going to keep them looking nice for a whole 9 days. However, the foot business was sublime. I now understand why people do this, though I won't be joining the line of people at Walmart. I liked the quiet of the little salon I found, and there weren't people gawking at me as they pushed their carts of groceries and whiny children past.
I managed to squeeze in a visit to my dear friend Di. When Di quit teaching at Comanche, it felt like someone cut my arm off. It had been a long while since I had found a friend like her. Never mind that she is old enough to be retired and has grown grandchildren. Di and I just hit it off from the beginning. Today was a quick visit, but I think we both needed it. There is a peace and a bit of life we walk away with after we have spent time with the sort friends that feed our souls. Some people do just whittle away at our being, but Di blesses.
I might have squeezed in an extra fifteen minutes of sleep, but I am just done in now that the day is over and done.
It was the sort of day that allowed for getting Walmart done before 9 and beating crowds, but it was also the sort of that meant I did not find the right hair pins for Bell for her flower girl bit next week at Tuck's wedding . . . Even though I looked in multiple places. On the up side. I did snag a pair of half price jeans from Maurice's and the doc thought I was pretty healthy, though I am going back in a month to do a little bloodwork to see if we can figure out why my hormones are so erratic these days. It will be one of those fasting things so I will go n fall break instead of miss more school.
I went to get a damaged toenail repaired and came away with a full manicure and pedicure - that was a bit odd for me. I have never had my nails done - wish I hadn't let it happen now. They are a bloody nuisance. Not sure how I am going to keep them looking nice for a whole 9 days. However, the foot business was sublime. I now understand why people do this, though I won't be joining the line of people at Walmart. I liked the quiet of the little salon I found, and there weren't people gawking at me as they pushed their carts of groceries and whiny children past.
I managed to squeeze in a visit to my dear friend Di. When Di quit teaching at Comanche, it felt like someone cut my arm off. It had been a long while since I had found a friend like her. Never mind that she is old enough to be retired and has grown grandchildren. Di and I just hit it off from the beginning. Today was a quick visit, but I think we both needed it. There is a peace and a bit of life we walk away with after we have spent time with the sort friends that feed our souls. Some people do just whittle away at our being, but Di blesses.
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