In each of us, there are other selves we could have been. Other lives we could have led. My life is rich, full and I am happy. And yet, when I see someone else living one of my other lives, being one of my other selves, I can't help but sigh a little.
In the daily choosing, there is no knowing which parts of our selves will become lesser, or too late to revive, cease to express itself at all. Maybe it is from that which the sigh comes. A little mourning for the good and the bad lost along the way to becoming today's self.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Inspiration
"Electricity?"
"Yah, from a windmill."
Every time Gilbert and I had visited the library, Geoffrey was too busy working the fields. He hadn't been that interested in going anyway.
"We're headed to the library," we'd say. " Wanna go?"
"Go ahead," he'd answer. "Waste your time."
But now, when I told him my idea of building windmill that would produce power - and then showed him what I'd built so far - he saw things differently.
"Cool! Where did you get such an idea?"
"The library."
- excerpt from The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind
"Yah, from a windmill."
Every time Gilbert and I had visited the library, Geoffrey was too busy working the fields. He hadn't been that interested in going anyway.
"We're headed to the library," we'd say. " Wanna go?"
"Go ahead," he'd answer. "Waste your time."
But now, when I told him my idea of building windmill that would produce power - and then showed him what I'd built so far - he saw things differently.
"Cool! Where did you get such an idea?"
"The library."
- excerpt from The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
These are a few of my favorites
Yesterday as I was looking through my old posts (for the oatmeal cookie recipe I thought I'd saved virtually in here somewhere!) I found one that listed 50 things I like and dislike. Today, let's revisit that ol' Erikka and see how much she has changed, if at all. Comments from now in RED.
50 Things I Like In No Particular Order –
50 Things I Like In No Particular Order –
50. uni-ball pens with fine tips
I still love really nice pens, but I lack the snobbery to actually KNOW what pens are good or the details that make a good pen...I only know one when I write with one.
49. Lined, spiral bound notebooks
I also really like graphing books and lab journals.
48. Coffee in a French press
ALWAYS.
47. freshly baked croissants
ALWAYS.
46. orange juice in wine glasses
Fancy glasses make even water taste better!
45. intentionally pairing contrasting colored clothing
I may have grown out of this one.
44. Tights, nylons, pantyhose
Sexxxxxy!
43. quasi old fashioned high heels
42. chubby babies knees, feet, and elbows
Still Cute!
41. Doritos
Yeah know, I actually don't eat these very often. I am not addicted to sour dough pretzels, the real HARD kind. Crunch!
40. reading aloud
I don't do this often, but Jason read to me the other night and I luuurrv when he does.
39. Jason’s voice
check.
38. Jason’s smile
ditto.
37. Jason’s eyes
omg yes!
36. Jason’s broad shoulders
...redundant but YES!
35. Jason’s strong hands
Always.
34. Jason’s neck
This is getting personal...but yes.
33. Jason’s beard
YES!
32. Jason
This could have encompassed 39 - 33
31. reading in bed in the morning
YES YES YES!
30. the smell of simmering garlic
YES! And the tast of browned/roasted garlic, even better!
29. pushing buttons (literal buttons)
I haven't done this or even had the occassion to feel this old urge I often had - I love to push buttons! (not metaphorical ones)
28. walking to the bakery around the block and getting a pastry and a coffee
YES!!@!!@!@!@! And oh how I miss this easy, simple thing I can no longer do...nearest cafe is 20 mins drive.
27. riding my bike to work
If I could have a mtn bike or a hybrid, I could still do this, but I live further and on dirt roads
26. writing
YES!
25. doing something special for someone every day
It's not every day anymore, but I still do special stuff for people in my life.
24. humming and singing while I do work
I was just caught singing in the bathroom and the teacher said, "I knew it had to be a happy person." On that particular day, I was so grumpy. I replied "Or maybe just likes singing." Debbie downer!
23. sweeping the floor
Um...REALLY? I do sweep, almost every night, not sure I enjoy it enough to be on this list.
22. my nephew sitting in my lap
He's 9 now, and luckily, I still get him to snuggle with me, but who knows for how much longer. :(
21. deciding what to add to a new batch of paper
I gave away my paper making supplies...
20. hugging my mom and dad
LOVE!
19. getting dressed up fancy
If only I had occassion to do this more, but in my new neck of the woods, dressing up means not wearing flannel...so my dressed fancy looks waaaaaaaaaaaaaay out of place.
18. hosting dinner and theme parties
YES! But ....see #19 and add to that I don't know enough people here yet (3 yrs...)
17. playing cribbage with my parents
Heck yes!
16. playing rummy with Jason and or his sister
We've since moved on to Hand and Foot, but I love me some card playing.
15. playing board games with friends or family
YES! NEED MORE!!!
14. rosy cheeks and chilly air
Yes!
13. crunching leaves underfoot
Yes. And the smell of them in Autumn.
12. the sound of breaking ice by stepping on it
Yes! And J taught Kai how to do this so she can eat it - adorable!
11. reading
Always.
10. the sun through a high canopy of leaves
Yes!
9. the smell of pine needles warmed in the sun
YES!
8. living in Boston without a car
While I was there yes, but living in the NEK without a car, definite no. with a car - YES!
7. the sound of Jason breathing as he is sleeping
Helps put me back to sleep every time.
6. when I’m at my parents, the sound of them breathing as they sleep
Horribly bittersweet mixture of comfort and sadness
5. finding new things to do where I live aka “exploring”
YES!
4. new cross stitch projects
Can I just FINISH ONE before being entranced by a new one?!
3. slow, relaxing mornings
Always!
2. hiking in the white mountains and suddenly stopping to hear the silence
Or now, in my back yard too.
1. eating popcorn made from kernels in a pan on the stove -I could, and almost do, eat it every night
Not every night, I'm no piggy here, but YES YES YES!!!
Monday, January 21, 2013
A Raisin In the Heart
Today's cookies were Chewy ginger cookies with raisins.
As soon I started making them, my thoughts were of my dad. The man LOVES riasins. He will eat them with just about anything. He will eat them by themselves. If he will lower himself to eat a cookie, you bet your bottom that cookie will have raisins in it. As I stirred in the flour, and folded in the raisins, I remembered something. Not a real memory, as I don't recall ever seeing my grandmother make them, my father eat them, or anything real happen. BUT. Something like a memory stirred.
As soon I started making them, my thoughts were of my dad. The man LOVES riasins. He will eat them with just about anything. He will eat them by themselves. If he will lower himself to eat a cookie, you bet your bottom that cookie will have raisins in it. As I stirred in the flour, and folded in the raisins, I remembered something. Not a real memory, as I don't recall ever seeing my grandmother make them, my father eat them, or anything real happen. BUT. Something like a memory stirred.
A while back I found a recipe from my dad's mother in this old knitting basket of hers that I now own. It was for oatmeal raisin cookies. At the time, I thought to myself - put this somewhere you'll remember where to find it, but somewhere it will be safe. And there it went, into my memories faulty workings, to be lost. Until some amount of time later, maybe even a year, I found the recipe again! I made those oatmeal cookies...Here's where more memory may be dreams/imaginings - I think I made them for my family to try, so I could let them know they were Grammy's recipe.
Flash back to the present. Again, I have misplaced that recipe. It's one a piece of worn notebook paper, scrawled in my dad's mother's kind of terrible cursive. There are other scrawls on there too, unrelated to the cookies - counts on some knitting project, random words. Because it was so worn I kept saying I needed to keep it safe and put it somewhere I'd remember (keep it hidden, keep it safe - lord of the rings). Why not draw myself a treasure map back to it at least?!? Drat! Oh wait, right, this is not even the point I was trying to make here. The point is as I was making these new cookies that included raisins, I remembered this phantom other recipe. I remembered asking my dad about them (I think) and he telling me she made them all the time, probably those and not many other kinds of cookies (I think). And as I began shaping this new cookie dough into 1.5 inch balls to place into the refrigerator for firming up, I wondered if that is why my dad loves raisins? Because his mother used them in cookies he loved.
Please, if there is a benevolent presence amongst us, let me find that worn piece of paper once more. I promise I won't lose it this time...
ps. do bars count as cookies? found a really yummy sounding recipe and wonder if it would count toward my 100 cookies in a year goal.
ps. do bars count as cookies? found a really yummy sounding recipe and wonder if it would count toward my 100 cookies in a year goal.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Who's got the biggest, balls of them all?
Best. thing. EVER happened to me at work the other day.
I was walking downstairs and one of the science teachers intercepted me. She asked me if I'd been hit up already to join an evaluation team (part of this new review process my district is using). I answered that I had and against all odds, I was even on my max number of teams - THREE! She gave me a disappointed face (and she is VERY expressive, so it was quite effective as you'll see when I changed my mind) and mentioned that she guessed that would happen.
Feeling bad as I am wont to do when I've said no (to anything or anyone) I asked how close she was to having at least the minimum number on her team. She said she already had three people, but she was asking me for a particular reason.
This is where it gets AWESOME.
This is where, with the power of one comment, my whole school year (of a whopping two months) went from being "one big ball of discipline hell" back to "I like students, I am good at my job - oh yeah!"
She got a funny look on her face, looked around and said, "I wanted you on my team because out of all the women in this building, you've got balls. To be honest, out of all the men in this building, you've still got balls."
I was stunned. Please, but stunned and could only smile and say, "Really? Thanks. Of COURSE I'll be on your team." When really, in my head, I was like this (just the Vdance part) -
And while I was looking for that, I found this gem of a video. Around minute 1 is my FAVE part.
I was walking downstairs and one of the science teachers intercepted me. She asked me if I'd been hit up already to join an evaluation team (part of this new review process my district is using). I answered that I had and against all odds, I was even on my max number of teams - THREE! She gave me a disappointed face (and she is VERY expressive, so it was quite effective as you'll see when I changed my mind) and mentioned that she guessed that would happen.
Feeling bad as I am wont to do when I've said no (to anything or anyone) I asked how close she was to having at least the minimum number on her team. She said she already had three people, but she was asking me for a particular reason.
This is where it gets AWESOME.
This is where, with the power of one comment, my whole school year (of a whopping two months) went from being "one big ball of discipline hell" back to "I like students, I am good at my job - oh yeah!"
She got a funny look on her face, looked around and said, "I wanted you on my team because out of all the women in this building, you've got balls. To be honest, out of all the men in this building, you've still got balls."
I was stunned. Please, but stunned and could only smile and say, "Really? Thanks. Of COURSE I'll be on your team." When really, in my head, I was like this (just the Vdance part) -
And while I was looking for that, I found this gem of a video. Around minute 1 is my FAVE part.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Like a Bull in a China Shop
Since I love commiserating with others over dumb things colleagues do in education, I have to share this story.
This story involves one of the most awkward teachers, no people, I have yet to meet. I mean, in every sense - dress, mannerisms, volume level of voice, tone, everything about how she talks, what she says, everything. One day in the library, another teacher and I were recording an interview. I'd taped a sign on the door to let people know to be quiet when they entered. This woman came in, walked directly over to us and stood there. Finally she made a comment about not knowing what was going on but she could wait. As the recorder is still rolling, she asked me her question and left. The other teacher and I exchanged a look, and she as she shook her head she muttered, "Like a bull in a china shop." We had to start the interview over again.
Back to today.
It is the last day of school for teachers (students ended on Tuesday of this week). In a spirit of celebration, my beau bought me my two favorite things - pepsi and doritos - to bring in to work to share with people. And he went all out, even getting me both the nacho and the cool ranch flavors.
I get to school and we have a faculty meeting. It gets over and it's only 9 am. I think, meh, who cares and get some bowls, open the doritos and dump them in. I set them on a wheelie cart and leave them there for a bit while I do other things. Soon after, a teacher comes in and immediately goes straight for the doritos and eats some then continues on her way to talk to our tech people (who have a small office in the library). She talks with them then heads out. There is no sign saying help yourself. No one is offering the doritos to people. I'm in plain sight and she didn't ask me or even mention them.
A little while later, she comes back to the library. As she heads straight for the doritos again, she says to the room and not to anyone particularly, "I hope these weren't for a special occasion." She inserts hand into bowl and as an after thought asks, "Were they?" I begin to attempt to say something like it's a little late for that now, but the words get all twisted and I'm half laughing, incredulously. Instead, after I've taken a breath and can talk again I say, "Thanks for asking. They are for everyone."
This story involves one of the most awkward teachers, no people, I have yet to meet. I mean, in every sense - dress, mannerisms, volume level of voice, tone, everything about how she talks, what she says, everything. One day in the library, another teacher and I were recording an interview. I'd taped a sign on the door to let people know to be quiet when they entered. This woman came in, walked directly over to us and stood there. Finally she made a comment about not knowing what was going on but she could wait. As the recorder is still rolling, she asked me her question and left. The other teacher and I exchanged a look, and she as she shook her head she muttered, "Like a bull in a china shop." We had to start the interview over again.
Back to today.
It is the last day of school for teachers (students ended on Tuesday of this week). In a spirit of celebration, my beau bought me my two favorite things - pepsi and doritos - to bring in to work to share with people. And he went all out, even getting me both the nacho and the cool ranch flavors.
I get to school and we have a faculty meeting. It gets over and it's only 9 am. I think, meh, who cares and get some bowls, open the doritos and dump them in. I set them on a wheelie cart and leave them there for a bit while I do other things. Soon after, a teacher comes in and immediately goes straight for the doritos and eats some then continues on her way to talk to our tech people (who have a small office in the library). She talks with them then heads out. There is no sign saying help yourself. No one is offering the doritos to people. I'm in plain sight and she didn't ask me or even mention them.
A little while later, she comes back to the library. As she heads straight for the doritos again, she says to the room and not to anyone particularly, "I hope these weren't for a special occasion." She inserts hand into bowl and as an after thought asks, "Were they?" I begin to attempt to say something like it's a little late for that now, but the words get all twisted and I'm half laughing, incredulously. Instead, after I've taken a breath and can talk again I say, "Thanks for asking. They are for everyone."
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Pause Button
I want to be one of those people who discreetly carry around a small notebook. And not just to discreetly carry it around, no, but to actually use it to jot down ideas for writing, interesting quotes, observations, books to read, movies to watch, whatever. This would also necessitate that I carry around a writing utensil. Therein lies a dilemma. A small notebook, of which I own about ten of, all ready to go, fit into the back pocket of my pants. Where, I ask, am I supposed to carry the writing utensil?
Every teacher I have ever had all said (or I am imagining they did, same thing) this refrain, "Don't put a pencil in your pocket. It's DANGEROUS!" Now, was this just for boys or were girls in danger too? And come to think of it, I don't really remember ever carrying any writing utensils around in my pockets, nor any of my other girl friends...Needless to say, I dislike putting anything in my pockets, especially sharp objects I may find embedded in my buttocks or my leg after a fall. Somehow I've come to terms with carrying the small notebook. Now where do I put the pen!?
Most often I forget the notebook, so where I put the writing utensil wouldn't matter. Or I'll have the notebook and be so caught up in whatever exciting thing is happening, I forget I have the notebook, forget it is right there in my back pocket, and I don't write in it, thus forgetting whatever brilliance may have come. I know how it should work, more like me with my camera at a party or event, where I will interrupt anyone or practically pause time to get the perfect picture. Somehow with writing and conversing with others, the ability to do this doesn't work as easily. And I swear, if I lose another best selling novel idea to this problem I am going to lose my shit.
What do the people who really carry around small notebooks do to solve the writing utensil dilemma? How do they remember to get in the practice of writing shit down as it happens?
Every teacher I have ever had all said (or I am imagining they did, same thing) this refrain, "Don't put a pencil in your pocket. It's DANGEROUS!" Now, was this just for boys or were girls in danger too? And come to think of it, I don't really remember ever carrying any writing utensils around in my pockets, nor any of my other girl friends...Needless to say, I dislike putting anything in my pockets, especially sharp objects I may find embedded in my buttocks or my leg after a fall. Somehow I've come to terms with carrying the small notebook. Now where do I put the pen!?
Most often I forget the notebook, so where I put the writing utensil wouldn't matter. Or I'll have the notebook and be so caught up in whatever exciting thing is happening, I forget I have the notebook, forget it is right there in my back pocket, and I don't write in it, thus forgetting whatever brilliance may have come. I know how it should work, more like me with my camera at a party or event, where I will interrupt anyone or practically pause time to get the perfect picture. Somehow with writing and conversing with others, the ability to do this doesn't work as easily. And I swear, if I lose another best selling novel idea to this problem I am going to lose my shit.
What do the people who really carry around small notebooks do to solve the writing utensil dilemma? How do they remember to get in the practice of writing shit down as it happens?
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