Ben is spending the night video-gaming at a friend's house (the name and number is posted on the front of the refrigerator under Chuck's favorite magnet - the one that says "Beer---it's not just for breakfast anymore"). Of course the mother in me made me ask if he remembered to take clean underwear. Old habits die hard.

I just finished reading Skipping Christmas by John Grisham. It's a quick read, and I recommend it to anyone in need of some refreshment this holiday season.

Even with all the changes going on (i.e. Diana, Rick and their kids moving to Arizona; Ben moving in with us; Will and Donna and their girls overseas--I've still only seen pictures of Heather), this has been a relatively stress-free Christmas. I started shopping very early and stuck to a sort of schedule of tasks so I didn't have too much to do at one time. There have been several years, however, when the idea of skipping the whole thing occured to me. Well, maybe not the whole thing.....

My birthday is coming up in January, and my drivers license was due to expire then. Last time I had to renew my license I was allowed to do it by mail, but this time I was required to do it in person. So I spent and hour at the DMV today. They said I was really lucky, that there were three times as many people there last week. (Who has time to go get a drivers license on the Saturday before Christmas?) It was actually pretty organized, and everyone there was courteous. It's nice to know that my vote for Jesse White was not misplaced. I agreed to be part of the organ donor program, a tribute to our former pastor who recently received a new kidney and a new lease on life. I had them put my real weight on this license. I hope someday to be able to revise it downward.

Chuck and I attended a wedding today. The bride was radiantly beautiful, not just from the bits of glitter in her hair and on her skin, but from the smile of someone who is deeply joyous and in love.

Congratulations, Bev and J.T.!

I have acheived the goal towards which I have been moving since the end of October. It was a very simple wish, really. I just didn't want to have anything I needed to buy or wrap on December 24. I've already told Chuck that any last minute presents he buys he will have to wrap himself. The house could use a little spiffing up here and there, but nothing major. I really appreciate the fact that my company gives us today as well as tomorrow off. After all the activity of recent weeks, I can use a truly relaxing day.

As always, we got a live tree, and it still needs a few finishing touches, a few more ornaments and some tinsel. Will used to go to the lot with Chuck to select our tree, but this year Ben had that honor. He chose a very nicely balanced balsam fir. My usual Tuesday evening dance class was on Monday this week, so we didn't have time to maintain our usual tradition of watching White Christmas while trimming the tree. Maybe we'll put it on later in the day when we hang the tinsel.

Monday evening I participated in Chicago's 27th "Do-It-Yourself Messiah", along with Chuck and Jim who were sitting in the bass section, I myself being a soprano. This took place at Chicago's Civic Opera House, which seats 3,500. Professional soloists perform the arias and solos. This year (and last) a countertenor did the alto solos. If you closed your eyes, you had no idea that it wasn't a woman singing. He also did "But Who May Abide" which is a baritone solo. Even though this was the ninth time I had done this (I have all the ticket folders pasted in my hardbound copy of the score) I still get a thrill to be part of such a large chorus. Yes, for those of you who aren't familiar with this, the audience sings all the choruses.

It’s been a non-stop week, typical for this time of year. Monday, Lutheran Choir of Chicago rehearsal; Tuesday, tap & jazz class (forgot my shoes), Wednesday, church Cabinet Meeting, Thursday, Symphony (Berlioz’s Requiem, with the full complement of the CSO Chorus – FANTASTIC!); Friday, LCC concert in Chicago; Saturday, after working for 5 hours early in the day, LCC concert in Evanston (my little solo went very well at both concerts, thank you very much); Sunday afternoon, I went to Floyd’s choral concert at Trinity; this evening (Monday), the big Do-It-Yourself Messiah at the Civic Opera House; tomorrow, I’m taking a vacation day.

Some reasons to celebrate for this past week:

Diana and the rest of the family made it safely to Arizona, in spite of the car breaking down in mid-journey and having to rent a car to finish the trip. They even have a mailing address now, so I was able to send their Christmas presents.

Ben took the DLAB and passed with a 98. He only needed a 95 to get the job of linguist that he wants in the Air Force. He’s a really smart guy.

I had fun singing the solo for the LCC concerts, and (in my opinion, at least) I did very well.

I have managed to print the mailing labels for my Christmas cards, and also return address labels that just happen to have the same picture as the special Christmas offering envelopes from my church. (Scanners are fun.)

I was extra klutzy at dance class tonight. I left the bag with my shoes in it at home right next to the door. Of course by the the time I got there it was too late to go back for them. It wasn't so bad for the jazz, but tap without tap shoes is very quiet, not to mention the difficulty of doing a "shuffle" in rubber-soled shoes.

I worked almost a full day on Saturday, something I haven't done in quite awhile. It looks like this may happen occasionally at this new desk. The extra cash will come in handy, especially at this time of the year (although, really, I'm almost done with the shopping), but I will have to rearrange my routines so I don't feel as though I've lost the whole weekend when I have to work a Saturday.

My new job is as a "Journal Billing Analyst". Some companies call this arrangement "rebates" and some call it "ship and debit". A company will buy product at list price and put it into their stock, but it may be earmarked for a particular job. Had they shipped the product directly to the job instead of into stock, they would have gotten a quoted price for that job. Eventually, when they ship it from their stock to the job, they submit the paperwork to us showing where they sold the product, and what their quoted price for that job should have been.

It is the job of the Journal Billing Analyst to make sure that the customer has actually purchased the product, compare the price at which they purchased it with the rebate they are asking, make sure there is a current quote in the system to cover it, make sure none of the product had already been returned for full credit, etc., etc., before issuing a final credit to the customer. A lot of this process is made easier by having a computer program in place that will make most of these comparisons. Of course, the data must be put into the system first. I will not be doing the data entry on a regular basis, although I have been doing some in the last few days, just to make sure I know how. So far the job doesn't seem too difficult, although I'm still at a very basic level and I don't have the whole picture yet. Parts of it just bore me to tears, specifically, manually checking pages and pages of other peoples' data input before releasing a credit. That was all I did the first day, and I thought, oh please just shoot me. But it got more interesting after that. Still, I guess I'll have to do a certain amount of that checking on a regular basis.

We did our first "parental" thing yesterday. We attended an open house at Ben's high school. Ben did a short skit and a recitation in German. It might seem like cheating for him to be taking German, but actually, when he came here at the age of 13, he hadn't been speaking German at home for a few years. I spoke with his teacher, and she said it was a good idea for him to keep it up. Later this week, Ben will take the DLAB for the Air Force. This is the test to see if he has the aptitude to be a linguist.

This will make buying a gift for me easier for everyone. Once I add something to it, that is.

The kids actually got on the road by about 9:30 a.m. yesterday morning. Somehow, I didn't think they'd be leaving at 5:00 a.m. as Rick said he was planning. They stopped for the night in Staunton, Illinois, a town not too far from St. Louis but on the Illinois side of the Mississippi. This was a wise move, as there was freezing rain in that area, and having lived there I can tell you that driving conditions can really be dangerous.

Diana called to tell me that Ben had forgotten his camera at the house, and I knew he still wanted to pick up a small tv he had left there, so I picked him up from work at 10:00 last night and I waited in the alley behind the empty house with my trunk open and blinkers on while he went in to get the tv. (He had already gotten his camera after school.) I felt like I was driving the getaway car for a robbery. Naturally, some car came up behind me while I was waiting, and I had to move. I was really irritated when I realized that it wasn't someone who lived on that block, but just someone who wanted to take a shortcut and avoid the main street. When I got to the end of the block I turned right and was immediately honked at by oncoming traffic on the side street, since I was going the wrong way down a one-way street. I ended up going quite a bit out of my way due to all the one-way streets in that area, but I finally got back to my station in the alley and Ben loaded his tv into the trunk.

So far so good. Ben rode his bike in the snow to our house after work and arrived here about 10:30 p.m. He's very polite and thankful for a place to stay. He has a half day of school today, and he plans on going to see Nemesis with some friends in the afternoon, but he actually asked permission. He asked what his chores would be and assured us he was more than willing to help out with anything we asked. After all he had to do taking care of the little ones at home, this is going to seem like a vacation to him. He set his alarm for 5:30 a.m., took his shower and was eating breakfast when I got up at 6:00. By the time I got out of the shower, he had already left. He's working until 10:00 again tonight. I have a feeling we won't be seeing a lot of him.

It's back to the real world again today. So what have I done this past week? Some Christmas shopping and wrapping, and got Ben's room ready. Most of what I cleared out of the closet in that room (two boxes and a large trash bag of clothing) is going to the church rummage sale. Much of it was as much as 15 years old, and it just made me feel bad to have it around. If I'm ever that size again, I will want new clothes anyway, to celebrate. Some stuff went in the garbage. Some is still sitting in my bedroom waiting to find a home. One thing I couldn't bear to give away was the nightgown and pegnoir set I wore on my wedding night. It's hot pink trimmed in cream colored lace. It has held up remarkably well for being almost 32 years old.

I managed to avoid doing ANY shopping yesterday on what is traditionaly the busiest shopping day of the year. We went to a memorial service in the morning for our friend Don's godmother's husband, a very quiet, white-haired gentleman, who has been looking quite frail for years. He finally succumbed to pneumonia last week. Don sang The Lord's Prayer as part of the service.

The rest of the day was spent killing dustbunnies, washing bedlinens, getting Ben's room ready. He brought his belongings over yesterday afternoon, but he won't begin sleeping here until Monday night. Wish me luck.

By the footprints in the snow I can tell we had some visitors from the Forest Preserve last night. Maybe the deer will come by again later and we can watch them from our newly enclosed back porch. We have the door to the porch open and the warm air from the house is heating it up quite nicely. Chuck is planning on deep-frying the turkey, and we'll eat about 3:00 p.m. Of course, EVERYONE will be here. The last gathering before the great move to Arizona.

A Gathering of Angels

I am convinced that Barbara's Kitchen is a place where angels gather. I have gone there several times when I was worried or concerned about something, and I have had a conversation with someone there who spoke to my concern. It happened again today. It is not lightly that I once again take on the responsibility for a teenager. Even though Ben is 18 years old, I will still have to go and pick up his report card from school. Chuck and I will be responsible for him until after he graduates from high school and enters the Air Force. (By the way, he scored very well on his written exam for the Air Force and passed his physical with flying colors. His departure for Basic Training is scheduled for July 28.) There was a woman at the restaurant today who overheard me talking about my situation. She told me how two friends of hers, twin girls, spent the last months of high school living in her home when their parents moved to Indiana. She said it was a wonderful experience, both for her having her friends there, but also for her parents.

Ben will need a place to do his homework when he moves in on Friday. I looked at desks at Office Depot, most of which are pretty expensive for what they are made of, and have to be assembled, too. I decided instead to get a 72 inch long utility table that I saw at Costco for only $45.00.

To the Man in the Parking Lot at Costco: It must have been a matter of life and death that you were in such a hurry you had to refuse my plea for assistance in getting the table into my car. Don't worry, I did finally manage to do it myself. I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving. May there always be someone there to help you when you need it.

I checked off several things on yesterday's "to do" list, but as usual I was too ambitious and must carry several over to today.

It looks like I may have the soprano solo in "Good King Wenceslas" at our December Lutheran Choir of Chicago concerts. Anyway, I sang it last night at rehearsal.

My company gives us the day after Thanksgiving off as well as the holiday itself, so since Sheila, the lead Journal Billing Analyst who is training me in my new duties, is taking the first three days of this week off as well, I decided to take M-W as vacation days. Not that I'll just be sitting around doing nothing, you understand. I have Christmas shopping to do, and I have to get the guest room ready for Ben, who will be moving in on Friday.

I really hope this move to Arizona works out for my daughter and her family.

Our church has been sponsoring a young man going through seminary for the last six years, and yesterday was his last, and toughest hurdle on the course to ordination. An Ecclesiastical Council was held at our church yesterday afternoon. Ministers and representatives of the laity from the entire Chicago Metropolitan Association (CMA) of the United Church of Christ were invited, and there were about 150 in attendance. David, the young man applying for ordination, gave a brief presentation, a sort of statement of his faith and his call to the ministry. Then he was submitted to an hour of questioning followed by a vote. Anyone at the meeting was allowed to ask a question, but only clergy with standing in the CMA and one lay person from each church were allowed to vote.

This should have been a formality. It should have been easy. David had been through seminary and had been thoroughly examined and accepted by the Church and Ministry Committee of the CMA. However, there were a few things which complicated yesterday’s proceedings. For one thing, David is not at this time being called to a full-time traditional parish ministry (he has been serving as a part-time co-pastor for a nearby church, but since he is not ordained he is unable to administer the sacraments). His main work is for Chicago’s Night Ministry. David drives the Night Ministry Bus around the streets of Chicago, ministering to the homeless, drug addicts, alcoholics, prostitutes, etc.

Another complication is that David is gay. In our denomination, this is not usually a problem. As long ago as 1985, our General Synod adopted a policy of being Open and Affirming, which proclaims that Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) persons are loved by God and that their gifts are an essential part of the community and ministry of Jesus Christ. However, one of the larger churches in the CMA is First Baptist Congregational Church, a huge all black congregation on the west side of Chicago, which was originally a Baptist church, but has chosen to join the United Church of Christ. These people hold the uninformed, Neanderthal view that such things are a matter of choice rather than genetic predisposition. As though a person simply chooses to be gay.

This church brought in about fifteen people, who spaced themselves strategically around the room, asking the most damaging questions they could think of. My very favorite was the one about how would David counsel a man just released from prison who has been repeatedly raped and “wants to get out of that life-style.” HE-LLO! It seems to me that the use of the term “rape” means that the man was not a willing participant. If a man who has been raped is automatically a homosexual, does that make a woman who has been raped a prostitute?

I’m happy to report that in spite of all this, David kept his cool and answered everything calmly and logically. Russ, our Scoutmaster asked him if he’d ever been afraid out on the streets. I imagine that standing up there took more courage than dodging bullets from a drive-by shooting. The vote was 44-3 to allow him to be ordained.

After much prayerful consideration, we have decided to invite our oldest grandson, Ben, to stay with us as he finishes his senior year of high school. Diana and Ben’s dad and the rest of the kids are moving out to Arizona at the end of this month. Ben is taking his physical for the Air Force on Wednesday, and if all goes well with that and his written tests, he will be sworn in under the Delayed Enlistment Program and will start his basic training after graduation. He is eighteen and technically an adult, and he was planning on trying to find a friend he could stay with, but not having any success. Since we will be in loco parentis for him anyway, we figure it will be easier to keep track of how he’s doing if he’s under our roof.

Ben is a very serious young man, very polite, and doing well in school. He doesn’t drive, so we won’t have any problems with auto insurance, and he says he may be able to get medical insurance through his part-time job at the Jewel supermarket. If not, we’ll just feed him vitamins, tell him to be extra careful when riding his bicycle, and hope for the best. He asked about rent, and we told him $20.00 a week and straight A’s in school.

This was something I certainly wasn’t planning on, but I guess I should always expect the unexpected. Ben might possibly have been able to stay with my sister-in-law Janis, except that Janis’s daughter Aubrey is leaving her boyfriend and coming back home to Janis’s house with her 18 month old girl Ariana. As I’ve said before, it’s always something……

Anyway, I have a very peaceful feeling that this is the right thing to do.

I used to believe that my heart was located in my butt. This was because when I was very little and would fall down my great-aunt, who was my primary care-giver, would set me back on my feet, pat my behind and say, "Bless your little heart." Sometimes when I fell I would cry that I had a broken heart.

Chuck’s last duty station before retiring from the Air Force was Chanute AFB, just outside of Rantoul, Illinois, about 15 miles north of Champaign, where the Chicago Bears are playing this season while Soldier Field is being rennovated. Chuck is a very outgoing, friendly guy, and between his work at the base hospital and his involvement in such things as the Base Exercise and Evaluation Team and the Top 4 group, consisting of members of the top four enlisted ranks, pretty much of everyone on base, from the General on down, knew him. As a matter of fact, Chuck and the General were on a first-name basis. The General called my husband “Chuck” and Chuck called the General “Sir”.

This fact was a constant sore point with our teenage daughter and pre-teen son, both of whom longed to establish their own identities. They couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without someone saying, “Oh, you’re MSgt. B.’s daughter (or son)." They could also be sure that nothing they did would ever remain a secret from their father.

Diana called the other day to relay the fact that the curse has followed her into adulthood. She and Rick took Rick’s oldest son Ben to see the local Air Force recruiter the other day. She related some of her experiences growing up as an Air Force brat, bemoaning the above-mentioned lack of identity. To which the recruiter replied, “Chuck B.! I know him! I recruit at the high school where he works!”

I finally moved to my new desk this morning. After lunch I'll start learning a few things about what I'm supposed to be doing. I think I'll buy myself some flowers for my desk on the way back to work.

Diana and Rick were visiting when I got home from work yesterday. They stopped by to give me my ticket for Harry Potter. They decided on a 7:00 p.m. showing Sunday, to be sure I could make it.

Floyd was at LCC rehearsal last night without his soft cast, finally! His instructions are to walk without a limp and with good posture for as long as possible each day without the brace.

It's unusual for me to receive three personal phone calls at work in one day. So today is unusual.

The first was from my husband, a progress report on the screen-porch project.

The second call came from my daughter, wanting to know if I wanted to accompany her, along with Rick, David and Becca, on Sunday to see the new Harry Potter movie. Like she had to ask. It's more a question of when. I have to be at church on Sunday afternoon to support our seminarian as he faces the firing squad, The Ecclesiastical Council. This is the last step before ordination for him. If, for some reason he is voted down, he will not be ordained. So if the movie is in the evening, no problem. Rick's knee is doing ok. It's really not even cracked. Just a "bone bruise." He's on limited duty, sorting the mail on his route, but not carrying it, which means they have even less money than usual.

The third call was my sister-in-law wanting to know if my son liked nuts in his chocolate chip cookies. Oops! Will, if you read this, act surprised when you get your "Care" package from Janis.

Today is a monument to Cheop’s Law. Nothing is ever done on time or within budget.

Although the rest of the civilized world has Veteran’s Day off, I don’t. I resisted the urge to take a vacation day today because I was scheduled, I thought, to move to my new desk and begin, finally, learning my new responsibilities. Of course, it’s not happening today. The person who was supposed to orchestrate the move just got back from vacation, so who knows when she will get it all together. I’ll just wait. No hurry. (Don’t tell anyone I have very little in the way of work to do until the move happens.)

Chuck’s assignment for the day, since he DOES have today off, was to get Plexiglas as winter screen replacements for four windows and the door on the screen porch. He had gotten it for three of the windows last year, and had what he thought was a good estimate of how much it was going to cost to complete the job. Naturally, he needs another $175.00 over that estimate, and the pieces of Plexiglas won’t be ready until Wednesday. Then he has to drill the screw holes and remove the brown paper before he can put them up. When it’s done, though, we just have to put a little electric heater out there and we’ll have a nice, hospitable smoking room for our winter parties. (No smoking in the house, please.)

I left work an hour early on Thursday so I could make sure the house was presentable for my visit from the Feds. Chuck was already home when I arrived. He had been on jury duty since the 28th, and they had wrapped up the case that day, finding for the defendant (again, since this was a re-trial--the first case was thrown out due to procedural errors.) It was a medical malpractice suit, and Chuck was very straightforward about revealing the fact that he had been and Air Force medic for 20 years, but they decided to keep him on the jury anyway. It turned out that he was very useful in interpreting a lot of the medical jargon.

The Feds (two agents--a man and a woman) spent about an hour talking to me, and I sang like a canary. Told them everything I knew. Which wasn't very much at all, unfortunately. They had an organizational chart with them, and there I was, right on the very bottom! I told them what my duties were, what I did on a daily basis, and answered their questions as best I could. But it's really hard to remember things from two or more years ago. Especially when it gets down to specific transactions. I suppose there's an advantage to being a cube drone, though. When it hits the fan, most of it falls on those above you.

I got an official envelope in my mailbox yesterday with just my name on it. Inside was a business card from an FBI agent with a note on the back of it to call him. He and another agent will be coming to my house after work to talk to me about Sabratek, the company I worked for before this one that went bankrupt and had its assets sold to Baxter. I had been interviewed on the phone awhile back by the SEC on the same subject. I guess they have now turned the investigation over to the FBI to see if criminal charges should be filed. So far, the big guys in that company have gotten fined in amounts that would be enormous to most people, but to them would be equivalent to a parking ticket.

Did I mention that I was really happy to see two people I knew when I went to vote? It's silly, I know, but I like the feeling of "See, I'm doing my civic duty."

There was a new thing this time. You put your ballot into a machine that tells you if you "over-voted" or "under-voted" which gives you a chance to try again. Most people under-vote because of all the judge retention things.

Today was election day, and I always go to the polls feeling less well informed than I really ought to be. I tend to vote against candidates I don't like, rather than really voting for candidates I like. But at least I vote. I voted against one candidate for State Governor because his entire campaign centered around getting rid of corruption. Being a life-long Chicagoan, I don't mind a little corruption as long as things get done. It sounded like his opponent had some ideas. Whether or not he can carry them out remains to be seen (if he wins, of course).

A week ago Sunday when I went downtown to the museum, I was walking along North Michigan Avenue before catching the 146 Museum Bus and I stepped off a curb I didn't realize was there and went sprawling. I had been looking ahead, and not at what was under my feet. I was walking onto a driveway with construction on the right of me. The far edge of the driveway had an incline for handicapped accessability, but the edge I stepped off of into oblivion didn't. A lady who was walking behind me, who lived in that building told me they were planning to fix it next month. I could tell I would have a nasty bruise, but I could also tell that my pride was hurt more than anything else, so I picked myself up and went on to the museum. Didn't even think it was worth mentioning here. The bruise has extended down my entire left leg, but it isn't swollen. Black stockings or slacks are the uniform of the day.

My son-in-law, however, managed to do basically the same thing last week and cracked his kneecap. He tripped over a piece of re-bar that was sticking out of a broken parking barrier at a convenience store where he stopped for a cup of coffee. He has an appointment today with an orthopedic doctor to see if they're going to recommend anything more than the immobilizer wrap, ice, and rest. Since Rick is a mail carrier, I'm not sure what this will do the the kids' plans for moving to Arizona at the end of this month. It's always something.

I'm thinking of upgrading to Blog*Spot Plus, because I'm getting tired of having so much trouble getting pictures onto aol. Any comments from Blog*Spot Plus users would be welcome.

The National Sales Meeting is being held at my workplace today, which means I wore a dress and I'll go home for lunch. Usually, when I dress up my boss asks me if I'm going to a funeral.

Today's church service combined Remembrance Sunday, where we remember those of our congregation who have passed away during the past year, and the dedication of the new cross on top of the church. The last hymn was "Beneath the Cross of Jesus," and the choir recessed all the way out of the building, followed by the congregation, to the front steps of the church, where a short dedication ceremony and prayer was held. The prayer consisted of saying the following alternate words to the hymn we had just sung:


Before the cross of Jesus
Our lives are judged today;
The meaning of our eager strife
Is tested by his Way.
Across our restless living
The light streams from His cross,
And by its clear, revealing beams
We measure gain and loss.

The hopes that lead us onward,
The fears that hold us back,
Our will to dare great things for God,
The courage that we lack,
The faith we keep in goodness,
Our love, as low or pure,
On all, the judgment of the cross
Falls steady, clear and sure.

Yet humbly, in our striving,
O God, we face its test.
We crave the power to do Thy will
With Him who did it best.
On us let now the healing
Of his great Spirit fall,
And make us brave and full of joy
To answer to His call. Amen.

Sunday after church I went to the Field Museum (see sidebar for link) to see the Pearl exhibit. I never realized that natural pearls are so rare, and I saw a film about how cultured pearls are made. I resisted buying anything in the museum shop. What I really wanted wasn't for sale. I don't think Dame Elizabeth Taylor (I hadn't realized she had that title) really wants to give up the necklace she lent to the museum for this exhibition. Let me tell you about it, anyway. There are several medallions of square-cut rubies surrounded by a double row of diamonds. These medallions are connected by strands of pearls, and there is a HUGE pear-shaped pearl pendant as the center piece. The necklace is the third slide here.

HOORAY! Let the rain and snow come! My new (hopefully dry) skylights are installed! After many days of weather delay, we had a clear day today, and I didn't even have to burn a vacation day because I still had some PTO (Personal Time Off) left for this year. These skylights are raised about a foot at the top to increase the pitch. It's nice to be able to see the sky again. There was moisture in between the double panes of glass on the old ones, and I haven't really seen the sky through them for several years. I still have to find someone to do the cosmetic things on the inside (drywall and painting), but that can be done any time. I am safe from the elements, and that's the important thing right now.

I just discovered that I have a Bacon Number of 4.

I was in the Trinity Players production of The Secret Garden (1999) with Zach Gray
Zach Gray was in Time Served (1999) with James Handy
James Handy was in K-9 (1989) with Pruitt Taylor Vince
Pruitt Taylor Vince was in Trapped (2002) with Kevin Bacon

Maybe it doesn't really count because The Secret Garden was live theatre, not a movie. Oh, well, it's fun anyway.

Gee, I wonder if Kevin will ever call on me to vouch for him if he wants to cash a check?

I considered going to the Field Museum to see the pearl exhibit and the chocolate exhibit Thursday, but just in time I remembered that Thursday is free day and every little kid in the city would be on a school excursion. Did a little shopping, starting to think about Christmas. Bought some wrapping paper and bows, a few boxes of Christmas cards, some Christmas stamps and a package of clear address labels. I'm not usually this organized, but I'm trying to follow the suggestions of FLYLady who says to pretend you're going on a three-week cruise starting the first of December, so of course all the Christmas stuff has to be done before you leave. That may not be so far from the truth, with Will and Donna and their girls overseas and with Rick and Diana and their kids leaving for Arizona in mid-November, if all goes according to their plan.

Jim was on vacation this week, and we went up to Lake Geneva, Wisconsin yesterday on our (almost) yearly fall excursion to snoop around in the shops and eat lunch at Popeye's Restaurant (not to be confused with the fast food chain). This is the second time we've gone up there on a rainy day. Next year, I think we should plan it for a week earlier or a week later. Lake Geneva has a greater variety of types of shops than Long Grove does. There's an Irish shop where we found a book about the making of the movie The Quiet Man. I got a paperweight, a bottle of Cinnebar cologne, and a malechite pendant to go with some earrings I already had.

Two suspects have been arrested in connection with the D.C. sniper case. Let's just hope the law enforcement people keep their mouths shut, follow procedure to the the letter, and that the media doesn't screw things up.

Two glorious vacation days stretch before my eyes, and from the weather forecast, it doesn't look like I'm getting my skylights replaced either day. My goal is to do just enough things that are somewhat useful so that I don't feel like a total bum, but still relax and have a good time. Let's see, what shall I do......? Any ideas?

Ow-w-w! Note to self: take aspirin before bed on dance class night.

In spite of the fact that it was a testimonial to Murphy’s Law (Whatever CAN go wrong WILL go wrong), Lutheran Choir of Chicago’s Fifth Annual Fall Festival of Song on Saturday was quite a success. Our guest conductor, Weston Noble was a real charmer, and his Director’s Workshop about bringing emotion into music with natural text accents was very informative. We were really fortunate to have Cindy, our accompanist from last year, and she really got a work-out. The event was at Charlie’s church, St. Peter’s in Arlington Heights. The people at the church took care of the meal this year, and it was very nicely done. We once again had a HUGE Festival Choir of over 200 singers.

But the event was not without a few problems.

The Monday before the Festival, we found out that two choirs backed out, one for scheduling problems, and one because they originally thought they had more people participating than they did. Unfortunately, these were two of the choirs that were scheduled to perform in the evening concert, which meant that LCC had to add two songs to its performance. Not really a problem. We did two of our signature songs, the St. Olaf arrangement of Beautiful Savior and Randall Thompson’s Alleluia in addition to Mendelssohn’s Psalm 100 (in German) and Ain’t Got Time to Die, which we had already planned. Of course, the printed programs had to be re-done. But since we weren’t having them professionally printed this year, that wasn’t as big a deal as it could have been.

After Monday’s rehearsal, our director Andy had to take his infant son to the hospital, and he was still there on Saturday. They say it was “an allergic reaction to a virus,” whatever that means. He is expected to recover, but may still be hospitalized for awhile longer. Floyd stepped in to direct LCC in three of its songs, and we had Weston Noble direct us in the Alleluia. Jerry and Ev picked up Mr. Noble at the airport.

I wonder if Don Oberg, looking down from heaven had anything to do with the SNAFUs? After all, the Fall Festival was his conception.

The new skylights were supposed to be installed Monday, and I had taken a "floating holiday", but it turned out the contractor's supplier could only locate one of the two that were ordered, and that one was the wrong one anyway. We'll try again next week.

Went to Long Grove with Jim. Lots of candles and flowers in the shops. One shop had a lot of Baltic amber jewelry, so I got a pendant necklace to go with the earrings I bought when I was in Copenhagen.

The phone rang at three a.m. Tuesday morning, and, as one might expect, it was not good news.

After several days of training to do my job when I move to my new position, my friend from another department decided it wasn't for her. That really surprised me. She's very bright and intelligent, but I guess she hasn't had much accounting type experience.

Nothing is as constant as change. Diana and Rick will be moving to Arizona, probably by mid-November. I'll miss the grandkids, but now I'll have an excuse to go see the Grand Canyon.

8:30 a.m. seemed a little early for a Saturday haircut appointment, but one can get a lot accomplished by not sleeping in on a crisp, sunny fall day. Got my hair cut, and I feel so well groomed. I was scheduled to do it last week, but had to cancel due to the Great Basement Clean-up Project and also the Piano Tuning Project. Bought several boxes of the 39 gallon blue recycling bags at the Jewel on Irving Park (the store near me is always out). Got the oil changed in the Cavalier. On schedule, for once. Found THREE dresses on sale at Sears, and took the two that needed hemming to the tailor. Also got a shirt for Chuck---in Steinmetz colors (forest green and silver).

I went to WalMart to scout out the possibilities of how to spend by $20.00 gift card. My company gave everyone involved in Customer Service a gift card for Customer Service Appreciation week. We also got free ice cream on Monday and free cake on Friday. Bought a liquid soap dispenser to replace the cracked one in the kitchen which I had temporarily fixed with duct tape. Bought a dozen tulip bulbs to plant when the annuals die out in front of the house. But I didn't use my gift card. I thought I might get the DVD of Kate and Leopold, but maybe it will come down in price in a few months.

It's only 3:15 p.m. right now, but it is getting ominously dark. Chuck may be barbequeing ribs in the rain later. Oh-oh, here it comes. Big, fat noisy drops. I'd better get the towels out to put under the skylights. Everyone pray for good weather on Monday. That's when these leaky skylights are scheduled to be replaced with some that will be at a steeper angle and will hopefully not leak. Water where it shouldn't be drives me nuts. According to Chuck, that's not a drive, it's a putt.

Steinmetz won! 50-12

Every Woman should read the 0ct 10 post at Blogatelle.

That said, I will address something to parents. I am fine. I was not harmed. My next door neighbor was sick. I was seven years old. As a child, I don't think I could have carried out some of the things recommended for adults.

My neighbor asked me to get him a glass of water from his basement bar (the Cubs game was on his TV on his porch). I went in through the basement door and he went in through the kitchen door and went down to the basement where I was still looking for a glass.

He exposed himself to me and asked me to lick him, something I was not about to do (I knew nothing about sex, but I knew plenty about germs, and I knew that boys peed through that thing). Then he pulled down my pants and licked me. I thought that was really weird (which, of course, it was, at least for him in that situation). I said I heard my mother calling, and I left. He didn't prevent me from leaving. I TOLD MY MOTHER.

I'll never know how much it cost my mother to hire a lawyer. As a single parent, with no help from my father in the matter, I'm sure it was considerable. She didn't ask for monetary damages. Her only request was that he be required to go for psychiatric counseling. I hope it helped.

The washing machine just buzzed. I have had a buzzing dryer for many years, but the washing machine I bought in January is the first one I've ever had that reminded me of the end of its last cycle. I really like it, because I know that even though I'm not doing many of the things I ought to do this evening, at least I will have clean jeans to wear on "casual Friday" (not that every day isn't really casual. It's just that on Friday you can wear jeans with your polo shirts or whatever).

Don't neglect your own physical needs; a little pampering would do you good.

That's from my horoscope for today. Not bad advice on any day. But after that last few weeks it is particularly apropos. What I need right now is some pampering and a bit of solitude. Isn't it fortuitous that Chuck is at a Steinmetz High School football game right now? Of course, I know his loyalties will be divided, being a Schurz High School graduate and a Steinmetz High School employee, but I'm sure he'll work it out. I thought I would have time to rest this week after breaking my back clearing out the basement for the cast party last week (a huge success, by the way), but here the real world intruded. Monday was LCC rehearsal. Tuesday evening I had to finish the September Cabinet Meeting minutes and dash to dance class so I could once more act like a klutz and and also so I could give the minutes to Joanie to duplicate for Wednesday's meeting (although I will admit that Miss Geri was very encouraging and singled me out to say that I was doing very well). The meeting came around extra fast this month because last month's meeting was delayed by a week to avoid having it on 9/11. Last night's meeting was mercifully short and controversy free, and I probably ought to be working on The Echo (the church newsletter) this evening, but I think I'll let it slide for a day or two. I need rest. I need a glass or two of wine. I need to play.

Do what you love.....

David is a professional musician. His primary instruments are piano and cello, and he is studying vocal pedagogy. As he left the party Sunday evening, I thanked him profusely for playing piano for a good portion of the evening. Everyone sang and had a great time. He waved me off, saying, “It’s what I do.” I protested that some folks don’t like to bring their work to a social occasion. He said, “But, you see, I never work.”

One thing I seem to have more of than anything else is books. I really must let go of some of them. Here's a unique idea for tracking the progress of a "released" book through the rest of its life.

Well, I'm ready for the party. With a lot of help from a friend the basement has been transformed into Jenny's Bistro, complete with a freshly tuned piano so I won't be embarassed if "perfect-pitch David" sits down to play (which is my hope). I should have taken a "before" picture, but I would have been too ashamed to show it to anyone. Anyway, the upstairs just needs a quick "blessing" later today and I can relax until 6:00 p.m. when the guests should start arriving. Now, if I can just manage to get the dozens of "rummage sale" boxes up to church over the next week or so......

Good results from the blood test I had on Monday. Total cholesterol: 173.

I called two of my customers who are located in Louisianna, not for business, but just to see if they were ok after Hurricane Lili hit. Fortunately, the folks I spoke with were spared. The one girl said she'd never, ever seen such a wind. It was rated at a "2" and she doesn't ever want to see anything more. She said there were trees uprooted all over her neighborhood. The other girl was almost in tears that I had called. I didn't think it was such a big deal, but to her I guess it was. She was fine, too, but one of her neighbors had a tree fall on their front porch.

Yesterday I confirmed something I have suspected for years. Men are visually impaired. There is something in their gene structure that blocks out images of dust, dirt and clutter.

The cast party for Finian’s Rainbow will be at our house on Sunday. The last time we hosted the cast party we shoved all our junk to one area of the basement and depended on our guests, with a little help from selective lighting, to suspend their disbelief and pretend there was a wall behind them instead of a pile of junk. Actors are good that way. Since that time we have added a pool table in the area that had previously been used for eating and socializing, and I have been forced to attack the junk pile so we can have a little space for some chairs and tables. And I’ve been attacking it so vigorously that I missed LCC rehearsal Monday because my back was killing me.

Chuck actually stood in the basement yesterday in the harsh light of a bare light bulb and said, “I don’t know why you think you have to do this. It looks fine. There’s plenty of room.” Ugh!

I heard a rumor at lunch today, that the powers that be in my company are trying to sell the building we currently occupy. They are looking at properties 5-10 miles northwest of here. Darn. One of the main attractions of this job was the fact that I could leave for work at 7:45 a.m. and still have time to get a cup of coffee to bring to my desk before starting work at 8:00 a.m. Gone, too, will be the days when I can run home and do a few quick chores at lunchtime. Sigh. I sort of figured they would do something like this. There is so much unutilized space in this building. It can't be cost efficient.

The rumor was just confirmed by our janitor facilities engineer. He came to hang a string in my co-worker's cubicle to monitor the air movement due to her complaint about an uncomfortable breeze on the back of her neck. He said, "Maybe you won't have this problem in the new place." Ah, the trials and tribulations of the indigenous cube drone.

I was there. I witnessed it. I sat next to Mary and she witnessed it, too. She even snapped some pictures of it. I'm talking about the historic event that happened in a small Episcopal church Saturday afternoon.

I applauded along with everyone else as the minister commented on the couple's choice of scripture readings. ("To everything there is a season" from Ecclesiastes). "Now it is time," he said, "after eighteen years, for Thomas to marry Nannette!"

Congratulations, Tom and Nan!

Applause is the only payment given to the cast of a community theatre such as Trinity Players. For those of us who have been bitten by the "theatre bug" that is enough. (Link via Gordon)

We had the opportunity to applaude some more highly paid performers on Thursday evening. It was the first concert of our subscription series to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and because it coincided with our friend Don's birthday, we took Don and Cor with us. We traded our two seats in the nosebleed section for four seats on the "terrace". This is the area directly behind and about six feet above the orchestra, facing the conductor and most of the rest of the audience. Quite a unique perspective. Daniel Barenboim was conducting a program of Falla and Ravel. The last piece on the program was Ravel's Boléro, which was obviously a treat for the orchestra as well as the audience. After starting them out, I was surprised to see Mr. Barenboim park his baton on the nearest violist's music stand, lean back against the rail on his podium, cross his legs at the ankle, and just let the orchestra go with it. Just a raised eyebrow or an occasional nod of his head provided the only direction until the cymbal crash near the end. I think I may investigate changing our subscription to terrace seating for next year

My new driveway and sidewalks were poured on Monday. The whole thing looks really nice except for the squirrel footprints. (I have this picture in my mind of this poor squirrel mired in my sidewalk as though it were quicksand, struggling to get free.) I called the construction company, but I don’t know if they’ll be able to do anything about it. Oh, well, I guess it gives the project personality. Anyway, maybe now there is less chance of someone tripping over a square of cement pushed up by a sycamore tree root, breaking their leg and then suing us for damages.

Speaking of broken legs, Floyd saw the orthopedic surgeon on Monday, and was told that he’s “not ready yet” for (physical) therapy. Several of the fifteen screws in his leg have broken off. This is normal, according to the doctor, and the screws and the two titanium plates will just stay in his leg as new bone grows around them. I didn’t see his actual x-rays, but from his description, the photos here probably look a lot like his x-rays. He’s still experiencing a lot of swelling and pain, so the doctor prescribed more pain medication. I don’t know what he’s taking, but I have heard that some pain medications may actually interfere with the healing of broken bones.

Attention: All Chicago readers! The Trinity Players production of Finian's Rainbow has only two more performances. Don't miss it!

"Shine on, shine on Harvest Moon up in the sky." Tonight will be a Harvest Moon. I found out via the Farmers Almanac that the full moon closest to the autumn equinox is not the only full moon with a name.

Dance Report: I’m still a klutz. Miss Geri was very kind, and said I did really well for the first time. Each step, as it is broken down, doesn’t seem difficult. But I have trouble remembering what is supposed to come next when it’s done up to speed with the music, and “he who hesitates is lost”. I was lost a good deal of the time.

I used my new digital voice recorder at Wednesday night’s church Cabinet Meeting, and I just love it! No more spending precious time searching for the correct spot on the tape. The recordings load into the computer via the USB port. At the beginning of each report in the meeting, I clicked it off and back on to make a separate message for each report. This is going to make writing the minutes lots easier. It doesn't come with a handstrap, but it has a notch at the bottom where one can be attached. I went to Radio Shack to try to buy one, and they didn't have anything. But I must have asked in a very charming way, because the salesman went in the back and removed the handstrap from a phone and gave it to me for nothing!

Summer is over.

There are only three more performances of Finian’s Rainbow. Those six performances go by so quickly, and I’m always a bit sad when I take that last curtain call. But it’s not as though I won’t have plenty to keep me busy.

Lutheran Choir of Chicago rehearsals began last Monday, so we missed the first one due to the final week of play rehearsals. We went last night, and it was really great to see a number of old members who sat out last season returning this year. There were a lot of new faces, too, including Laura, who is the lead in Finian’s Rainbow. She has a beautiful first soprano voice, and I know she’ll fit right in.

I start a tap and jazz class this evening at Miss Geri’s School of Dance. I’m hoping it will help me to feel like less of a klutz the next time I have to do some simple dance steps in a musical. My sister-in-law Janis signed up for the class, too. It’s the same one that Joanie has been going to for about seven years, and she says it’s lots of fun. I took dance lessons for a few weeks when I was five years old, and for some reason I really hated it. I don’t remember why I hated it, and I’m hoping I won’t remember.

I tried getting my dance shoes yesterday on my lunch hour, but couldn’t because the shop is closed on Mondays. I was successful today, however, and even had enough time to duck into Barbara’s Kitchen for a quick soup & half sandwich. In the small world department, a little girl was in the shop getting ballet slippers when I arrived, and her mother said that HER mother was in the same class I’m taking!

I’ll miss Wednesday’s “pick-up” rehearsal for the play because my duties as Church Clerk require me to attend the Cabinet Meeting. The meeting would have been last week, but it was moved to this week, not to accommodate my schedule, but to avoid having it on 9/11.

I'm #1! Just do a Google search on the terms "flakey personality" and Much of Something will be at the top of the list.

If I didn't believe in miracles before last night, I do now. In spite of all the technical problems, lack of people to fill some roles, people who were chronically absent from rehearsals, etc., etc, opening night was GREAT! We had a full house, very unusual for a Friday evening, and they were responsive and loving it! There is something so special about performing for an audience, as opposed to simply rehearsing. The energy surge is difficult to describe or quantify, but it is definitely there!

Here are a few gems from Floyd's pre-show pep-talks: Be LARGER than life onstage.......Help each other.....Don't use tunnel vision when you're performing onstage......The word "ensemble" is everything, as is timing...."ensemble" is the process where you act as one body, an organic or-gan-i-sm......that means you must react to everything at all times onstage.......Help each other.

That Old Devil Moon or space junk? What is J002E3?

09/11/01

With silence only as their benediction,
God's angels come
Where, in the shadow of a great affliction,
The soul sits dumb!
----------John Greenleaf Whitier

Playing for the Fighting 69th

It was hot last night. Clothes sticking to you, sweat dripping off of you hot. The stagelights made it hotter. I'm surprised nobody passed out. How do you have a tech rehearsal without someone to run the follow spot? I hope the sound system feedback problem gets solved before Friday (opening night). The "Begat" quartet is a trio with one member who had been hospitalized for pneumonia, so they didn't even rehearse that number until after the regular rehearsal. And the chorus was supposed to know they didn't have that extra time. And we always start singing at the wrong time in the "Woody's getting betrothed" scene. I thought David would have a stroke. I can hardly wait to read Floyd's notes. They're always so funny, even when they're critical.

"It is not my desire that my personal life or the physically and emotionally abusive relationship of which I was once a part should be used to bring any degree of reproach upon a program that I truly admire."

Those are the words Rebekah Revels used in resigning her title of Miss North Carolina in the aftermath of a threat from a former boyfriend to publish photographs he took without her consent while she was changing clothes.

I applaud Judge Narley L. Cashwell's decision to restore her title. After all, she was a victim of a person who was at the very least, in the judge's words, "not a Southern gentleman."

This poses a problem for the Miss America Pageant, however, which has two Miss North Carolinas until this is all sorted out by the Federal Court.

Answering machine messages you'd like to use. Here's one of my favorites:

"Hello, you are talking to a machine. I am capable of receiving messages. My owners do not need siding, windows, or a hot tub, and their carpets are clean. They give to charity through their office and do not need their picture taken. If you're still with me, leave your name and number and they will get back to you."

I did my bit for the environment today. My Cavalier passed the vehicle emissions test. Now I don't have to test again until 2005.

I've been reading and enjoying Rebecca Blood's book The Weblog Handbook. It has given me, as a real novice, the reassurance that I'm on the right track here. I really am having fun with this weblog, and this is the longest period of time I have ever maintained any sort of personal journal. One peice of advice I found in the book, which I have just implemented, is to include a link to the weblog in a signature block on personal email. That way I don't have to continually hit my friends over the head with it. (Please, please read my weblog!) Not that I do anymore. I think I've gotten past that stage. I'm really doing this for myself anyway.

A Haiku for Yesterday

Men in grubby jeans
Dirty water on the floor
The drain is still clogged.

A Haiku for Today

More time off from work
Clanks, whirrs and then some glug-glugs
Laundry tubs empty.

I went to Target with Diana and Becca on Sunday, shopping for school supplies for David and Becca. Becca started kindergarten yesterday, and David is in first grade this year. The list given out by the Chicago Public Schools is VERY specific, right down to the brands. I wonder if they get a kickback or something? I don't really have to describe what the shopping trip was like, because Michele gives a great description in her Sept. 2 post.

I've been culturally deprived!

For years I thought that Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf was the only introduction to the orchestra for children. How did I ever miss hearing Tubby the Tuba? It was created by Paul Tripp, who died last week at the age of 91, and the music was written by George Kleinsinger. I was almost late for work this morning because I had never heard it before, and I was listening to it in my car on WFMT. I'll make sure my grandchildren are properly educated!

See what the well-dressed geek is wearing these days.

In spite of what my Weather Pixie said, it was a rainy Labor Day morning, a perfect day for a museum visit. We went to the Museum of Science and Industry to see the Titanic exhibit.

On entering the exhibit, I was given a boarding pass with the name of a passenger and other pertinent information on it. I was Miss Jessie Wills Leitch of Denmark Hill, Surrey, England, traveling in second class with my cousins, Nina Harper and her father, Rev. John Harper. Our final destination was Chicago, Illinois. The boarding pass also stated, “A well known photograph of the second class promenade, in which a young girl is seen holding her father’s hand, is believed by many to show young Nina Harper and her father.”

After walking down a white paneled hallway lit by electric sconces, we came to a replica of the grand staircase with its sweeping, intricately carved railings, leaded glass-domed ceiling, the famous clock, and a torch-bearing bronze cherub at the bottom of the center railing. We walked through rooms representing the verandah café and main dining areas, with displays of the dishes and flatware used in each. We saw examples of first-class staterooms, 2nd and 3rd class cabins. We walked out onto a promenade deck, a carpet of stars illuminating the inky sky and reflecting off the silky-smooth water below. The air temperature in this area was maintained at the temperature that it would have been on April 15, 1912.

There are many personal possessions on display, as well as various relics of the décor and mechanical workings of the ship. There is also a very large piece of the hull. One room has a huge piece of ice, which visitors are invited to hold their hands against for as long as they are able. Not very long in my case.

At the end of the exhibit, I discovered that my cousin and I were among those saved, but Rev. Harper was lost.

What should occupy the space where the World Trade Center was? Here are five weeks of responses to that question from readers of CNN. Vote for your favorite in each group or submit your own plan. Here are two of my favorites:

We managed to get up to church in time to see the cross lit for the first time. The pictures Chuck took when it was darker were blurry, so you can't really get the effect of seeing it lit. But it is finally in place on top of the cupola. There were only a few of us there. The official dedication will be after the copper sheathing on the cupola is replaced and the scaffolding is removed. The old cross had individual lightbulbs. This one has "rope lighting". It's a bright beacon for the neigborhood at night. It is on a timer set to be on from 8:00 p.m. until midnight.

I knew the little buggers were smart!

When I made the appointment with Leo to come over at dinnertime so I could sign a contract and give him some money for the new skylights, there was nothing on our calendar for the evening. Now they're going to light the cross at church, and I don't want to miss it. If Leo is more than 30 minutes late, we'll have to reschedule.

Good grief! Now I'm a 6.3. If I go much lower I'm going to erase that thing! It was supposed to give me a boost. I actually think I'm doing pretty well considering that I'm not a geek. I think a digital camera has moved up from a want to a need, though.

I really wish people (which is half my department, at this point) who are walking cesspools of infection would stay home from work. I think that's why our company gives us 5 days per year called PTO (Personal Time Off). Please don't come to work and infect everyone else. Opening night of the play is only two weeks away, and I have to stay healthy.

Speaking of cesspools, the kitchen drain is backing up into the laundry tubs in the basement. Chuck says we have to have the catch-basin pumped out, which hasn't been done in ten years. The last time it was done was before we built the addition, and now the catch-basin is located in a crawl-space under the screened porch. He never gets too excited about getting this sort of thing done NOW, like I want it. He won't regard it as an emergency until he runs out of clean underwear and we don't have any clean cookware. He did, however, ask our plumber for the name of a reliable sewer man.

We're supposed to be getting new sidewalks and driveway sometime this week. This is a good week for it, because the weather is perfect. Which is good, because there's something else wrong with Chuck's truck and I've had to walk to work the last two days because he's starting earlier than he did during the summer, so it's too early to drop me off at work on his way. The truck has something wrong with the front axel, I think. We won't know until it's been taken apart how much it will cost.

And then there's the skylight issue. We got a new roof last fall, and I was hoping that would solve the problem of the leaking skylights. Well, all the other leaks have been fixed, but the skylights still leak. So we had the roofing company come out yesterday to take a look. It turns out that the guy who remodeled the room in 1991 put in the WRONG TYPE of skylights for the pitch of the roof in that area. So we're waiting to hear how much it will cost to replace them with the right kind.

Oh, well. According to Anne Lamott, any problem that can be solved by throwing money at it isn't a very interesting problem. Maybe that's why my weblog is only rated at 6.6.

Clogged drains, leaking skylights and crumbling sidewalks. Ah, the joys of home ownership.

Wine Anxiety? I didn't realize it was that serious. I don't worry about it. I just drink it.

Diana and Rick returned yesterday from a week in the City of Brotherly Love (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania), where Rick went to represent the Postal Workers Union. Because it was a business trip, Diana had to do a lot on her own, but they did manage to get some time to do sightseeing together. They did the usual historic places: Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, and the historic village, where the people dress up and act the part of colonial Americans. They also went on the Ghost Tour.

A few years ago I went on Richard T. Crowe’s Chicago Ghost Tour. We have our share of spirits in this fair city. The most notable, I believe, is the ghost of John Dillinger, which haunts the alley behind the Biograph Theatre.

Illusion vs. Reality. Jamie Lee Curtis is not perfect.

I went to see Camelot with my friend Jim last night. I always enjoy Light Opera Works productions, and this was no exception. I especially enjoyed Robert Swan’s portrayal of Pellinore. I’ve seen this actor twice before. The first time he had the title role in The Mikado, produced by Light Opera Works in 1999. The second time was just a few weeks ago in the role of Sparafucile in L’Opera Piccola’s production of Rigoletto.

I wish Trinity Players would adapt some of the creative ideas for the sets that Light Opera Works uses. There was a very large tree in the opening scene that was made out of gathered sheer material around a lightweight frame. It gave the illusion of a very old tree with rough textured bark. Yet it was very light and easy to move for a scene change. The tree they're making for Finian's Rainbow is the traditional paper machè with yellow and green construction paper leaves. The background is regular flats with painted on trees.

Chuck had warm cherry pie waiting for us when we got home.

Boy, do I feel stupid. I always take pride in myself for not forwarding most of the junk that gets forwarded to me, but I couldn't help but send the photo of the shark and the helicopter to my son. And now I find out (via Rebecca) that it's a fake! Anyone got a bridge they wanna sell?

"80% of the time you can beat your competition just by showing up. More importantly, show up on time and with a plan. You have to know your prospect's strengths and weaknesses and be able to anticipate his or her concerns. Do this and you're a winner 90% of the time. What about the other 10%? Commitment to carry it out and execution. Nothing is more deadly to a sales relationship, or any relationship, than a broken promise. Whatever you say you're going to do, you'd better do it, and if you find you can't do it, then the price/service/delivery concessions better be so generous that the buyer is glad you didn't. Once you've put the other elements together, if you perform, or better yet, if you deliver more than what you promised, you beat the competition 100% of the time."

I've been listening to tapes of Harvey MacKay's book Beware the Naked Man Who Offers You His Shirt, and the above concept struck me. The book is about succeeding in business, but I think the same ideas can be applied to other areas.

I think my husband did a really good job of selling himself to me. He wasn't the first who had vaguely hinted around at the subject of marriage. But he is always on time, and he showed up when I was ready to get married. Not only that, he was the only one who showed up with a plan. He told me what to expect for at least the first four years, if I said yes. Realistically, no sugar-coating. And he had a general idea of where we would be heading together after that, if I said yes. And he was ready to make the commitment, right down to having chosen a date. I already knew that he always delivered on his promises, so how could I resist? And I've never been sorry. He's always delivered more than he's promised.

Fall Fashion Flash

"Plan for 1890s decadence this fall. Corsets in velvet and damask worn with chokers, crystal crosses and sweeping skirts make an office girl feel like a Russian empress."

Like I'm really going to wear underwear as outerwear. What are they thinking? "Russian empress"? Sounds more like something an s-m queen would wear.

Tomorrow I begin learning my new duties in the Journal Billing Group. I'll be doing that two days a week while still doing my current job until a replacement for me is appointed.

I dearly hope I haven't been promoted to my level of incompetence.

Elvis and Apple Butter

I heard during the week twenty-five years ago that Elvis had passed away. I remember thinking, "Oh, that's sad. I really liked his voice." But when I saw Jencey Lorraine on Saturday when we arrived to help make apple-butter, I saw that she was really distraught about the whole thing. She was totally and completely in love with him in a way I've never quite managed to be with a celebrity. Had every piece of vinyl he had ever recorded, including the "blue" album. Jencey was a displaced resident of Evangeline Parrish in Louisianna living in southern Illinois with her husband. She called her in-laws "Mizz Gloria" and "Mister Andy", which, although it was strange to my ears, seemed charming coming from her.

Back then, we were living in Mascoutah, Illinois near Scott AFB. Diana was four years old and I was pregnant with Will. We belonged to a group at St. John's UCC called the "Saturday Nighters". It was a young adults group, most of whom were married and had small children, although there were a few who were still single. The group made apple butter every year and sold it as a fundraiser for the church.

I was a city girl, so this was a new experience for me. The event was held at someone's farm, and everyone brought their kids. There was plenty of room for the children to run around without getting into too much trouble. The work really started on Friday evening when we went out to Eckard's Orchard to pick the apples and then brought them back to church to peel, core, cut and wash. I don't remember how many bags of apples, but I think we ended up with about 30 gallons of apple-butter when we were finished.

Then came Saturday. To make apple-butter properly, you have to cook the apples and the several gallons of cider that is added to them all day long in a copper kettle over an open fire, stirring constantly. This copper kettle was about three feet across and 3-1/2 or 4 feet tall. One of the men rigged up an old washing-machine motor to run a slotted paddle to keep the contents constantly moving. Of course, it still required that all the men stand around all day watching it and drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. The women prepared the meals, looked after the children, and sterilized the jars, keeping them ready for the final operation.

About 6:00 in the evening, when the mixture was deemed thick enough, a huge bowl of cinnamon and other spices was stirred into it. The hot apple-butter was then poured into the waiting jars, any drips carefully wiped away, and the lids placed on the jars. All this was done very quickly, hence the need for many hands. As they cooled, you could hear each jar seal with a "pop" as the center of the lid was sucked inwards by the vacuum created by the cooling.

I've actually been assigned a line! As Buzz flashes his card I'm supposed to look at it and say, "You left off your title: Stooge for Senator Rawkins". I'm getting really irritated with the actors that don't know how to project. Every time they say a line Floyd stops and tells them to say it louder. He never has to say that to me. Of course, I'm a veteran of the pre-technology days. When I played Mammy Yokum in 1970 there were no body mics. The line I'm saying was actually assigned to someone else originally, but I think Floyd wanted to make sure this one came out.

And it's been officially announced to the cast that the party will be at our house.

The cast was tasked to address pre-printed postcards advertising the play for the publicity person (Annie) to mail. I limited my list to two sheets of address labels, which I thought was conservative. When I asked Annie for 60 postcards, she seemed surprised, and I saw her run over to Jerry and ask him if I could have them. She's so funny sometimes.

The whole rehearsal was spent blocking "That Great Come and Get It Day". Things are really progressing very slowly, and opening night is only a month away!

Chuck told Floyd that our house would be available for the cast party if nobody else offered. I wonder if I can clean the basement by the beginning of October?

We blew off going to church today and went the the Renaissance Faire instead. We hadn't been there in more than 20 years. The last time we went, my enjoyment was hindered by the fact that I had two children to keep track of. Also, it had rained heavily the night beofore and there was mud everywhere.

It's a different sort of theme park, in a nice natural setting. You have to be a little careful not to trip over tree roots. Everyone is costumed and speaking with British accents. Many of the visitors also dress up, some quite elaborately. Jugglers, dancers, madrigal singers and other minstrels abound. I bought a pair of earrings and a necklace in the "celtic four" design. It is supposed to be a symbol of good fortune. The double lines stand for friendship or love between two people who are separate yet together.

It pays to know the right people. L'Opera Piccola's production of Rigoletto was just wonderful. I went Friday evening with Bob, an old family friend who loves opera, and Mary, who will be stage director this year for Finian's Rainbow. This is the first time I've gone to one of these performances without purchasing tickets in advance, but Bob had called ahead and was assured that there would be no problem buying tickets at the door on Friday night. That is, of course, assuming that the Ticketmaster computer didn't go down. Which it did. When I got up to the window, they couldn't sell any tickets. While I was standing there wondering what to do, Sasha came up behind me with a handful of comp tickets. "Just make a donation," she said, as she handed tickets for three great seats in the center section. Of course, the opera company will actually come out ahead this way. I'll write them a check for more than I would have paid for the ticket, and Bob said he'd make a donation as well.

The weather was perfect yesterday for the J P Morgan Chase Corporate Challenge.

Yes, it was perfect, which made up for last year, which was one of the three times in the history of the race when the event was cancelled. I remember how hot it was last year, and how I had been careful to drink extra water during the day, even though I was going to be a walker rather than a runner. I was really looking forward to my first year of participation in the race. I was disappointed when I heard that the race had been cancelled, but when the electricity at my house went out during the storm at the time when the race would have been due to start, I was glad that I wasn’t downtown. The food that my company had purchased to serve to our participants was donated to a shelter for battered women last year.

So, as noted earlier, the weather was perfect this year, and I had no reason not to participate. Except procrastination. I was a last minute participant, who would substitute for someone else who had signed up and withdrawn. No problem. I was told I would get my number at the tent downtown. I had a little problem, after taking the "L" downtown, finding our tent. I guess I actually walked right by it. When I finally found it, they didn't have a number for me to wear. And the race was about to begin. They said, "Well, you can still participate, you just won't be competing." I thought maybe I would just walk the 3-1/2 miles anyway. The race started at 7:00 p.m., but I could still make it, since I was a walker and would be at the end anyway. I started walking towards the starting line. It was south of Balbo on Columbus Drive. I walked. Then I got to Balbo and had to just try to flatten myself against a lamppost while 14,000 sweaty runners streamed around me. These were the serious atheletes who had started out at the dot of 7:00 p.m. They had already gone south on Columbus to Roosevelt, west to Michigan, along Michigan back to Balbo and were coming over the bridge right at me!

There was a representative of Chicago's Finest at the corner of Columbus and Balbo, but he had more sense than to try to stem the tide of runners for me and a few other latecomers who only wanted to walk. So I waited until the "serious" runners were done and I managed to cross Balbo when the weekend warriors who were huffing and puffing came by.

At first I thought I would do the whole walk, even though I wasn't "officially" competing. I set the timer on my watch, just to see how long I walked from the starting line. When I got to Michigan Avenue, I was really enjoying the walk, even though I was alone. Chicago is such a pretty city. The plantings down the middle of Michigan Avenue are spectacular. I turned east on Balbo and made my way over the bridge, turning left (north) on Columbus. When I got to Congress, where my company's tent was, and I saw how far it really was to complete the race I decided to just go back to the company tent. After all, I wouldn't even be able to get a t-shirt at the end, since I didn't have an official nunber. By my watch, I think I only walked about a mile. Next year, though, I'll be a contender.

Several of us went out after rehearsal last night. It’s the first time this play that I’ve been able to go. Chuck, being a much more sensible person than I am, always opts to go home, and since we were operating with only one vehicle while the truck was being overhauled, I had to go home too. But now I’ve got my wheels back and I can be a party animal again. There were seven of us: Floyd and Annie, Jer and Ev, plus Tom, Mary and me. We went to The Melrose, which I like because it’s close to home, always open, and they serve fresh squeezed orange juice. Jerry’s banana split arrived without a cherry; Evelyn complained; the waitress brought TWO cherries.

About the play: Work has begun on certain elements of the set, notably a huge tree big enough to hide a ladder. Anyone not on stage was employed tracing and cutting hundreds of green and yellow leaves out of construction paper.

There are still two characters that haven’t been cast, and there are lots of absences at rehearsals. This concerns me a bit, but I know that Floyd’s plays always come together somehow, and I haven’t been in one yet that didn’t have its problems.

The words in “Something Sort of Grandish” have been changed from “Eisenhows-ish” to “Colin Powell-ish”. Cute.

Good news! My car is fixed and I’ll get to drive to work tomorrow. They replaced the power steering hose, which was not very expensive. While it was in the shop I had them trace the source of the annoying “clunk” that it had been making. The plan was to wait until we got Chuck’s vehicle back before getting that fixed. Almost made it. Anyway, the clunk was due to anti-sway bar stabilizer links that had rusted out. That was a bit more expensive, but still not major. Now I can run errands at lunchtime or go home if I want. What luxury!

Our recent car trouble and a story that Leslie posted got me thinking. I believe you can tell a lot about a man by the way he reacts to things like flat tires. The fact that such things happen is, for the most part, out of one’s control. Even the most meticulously cared for vehicle will still break down occasionally, and when it does, it’s really an opportunity for a man to demonstrate his true character.

I recall the first flat tire we had as a married couple. Our 1967 Ford Galaxy 500 was parked in front of our first apartment with a U-Haul trailer hitched to the back of it. The day before, we had driven the 300 miles, mostly on the old Route 66 (before I-55 was completed), from Chicago to Belleville, Illinois. The trailer had been unloaded of all our worldly possessions and Chuck was about to drop the trailer off at the local rental place when he discovered the flat. He still rates changing a tire on a car with a trailer hitched to it as the most difficult tire change he’s ever done. But he was calm and simply did what needed to be done.

That reminds me of another incident about that first trip to Belleville. I had gotten my driver’s license when I was 18, but since my family didn’t own a car I hadn’t driven any vehicle since the test three years earlier. Chuck had me take over the driving for part of the way, trailer and all, and he closed his eyes and went to sleep. He can sleep anywhere. This was easy driving. A fairly straight, flat stretch with corn or soybean fields on either side.

I was doing ok until I got a little too close to the edge of the road and my right tires went off onto the shoulder. I panicked and over-corrected to the left. Then to the right. Then to the left again. As Chuck tells it, I was doing submarine-evasion tactics down a two-lane highway, with a trailer fishtailing behind. Fortunately, there was no on-coming traffic at the time. All this thrashing around and my screaming, “What do I do? What do I do?” woke him up. He just waited until the car was more or less pointed in the right direction and grabbed the steering wheel tight so I couldn’t move it.

“All right?” he said. I nodded. I was still shaken, but he could see I had settled down. He said I should keep driving for a while longer. Then he took his glasses off, leaned back and resumed his nap.

And that’s the way it’s been for 31 years. He doesn’t do things for me that I should be doing for myself. He just calms me down when I panic and keeps me going straight and steady.

Thanks, Gordon. I'm honored.

Saturday was our grandniece Ariana’s first birthday, and my sister-in-law and niece had the party (you guessed it) at our house on Sunday. There were 40 or more people, more than half of which I didn’t even know. Unfortunately, my daughter was not among them. My niece hadn’t sent her an invitation in the mail, thinking that, of course, she would know she was invited, but she hadn’t called her, either. When Diana called me Saturday morning to ask if she could stop by, I said I’d be out, but I’d see her Sunday and she didn’t know anything about the party. My niece called and left a lengthy message on Diana’s answering machine, but either she didn’t get it or ignored it. In any case, she didn’t show up. I hope Aubrey can get in touch with Diana and smooth things over.

Saturday morning we had a memorial service to attend, and Chuck had to leave early to set up the church, since the deceased was the mother of the person who usually sets up for such things. He decided to take the bus to church rather than make me interrupt my cleaning frenzy to drive him up there just so I could get back home in time to get dressed and go back to church. (The Suburban was still in the shop for its ring-and-valve job).

Friday evening I had gone out to get a few last minute things for Sunday and noticed the car making a strange whirring sound. Chuck suggested maybe we were low on transmission fluid, something that was supposedly checked not two weeks ago when I got an oil change. The sound got worse and worse as I drove the three miles to church, and the car felt strangely unresponsive. I told Chuck I didn’t think I should be driving the car, and when he went out and listened to it, he agreed. So, after the memorial service he called Triple-A and had it towed to the same shop that’s had the truck for the last month. The tow-truck driver determined that the trouble is in the power steering, since the fluid was low and after adding some it was spurting out. It wasn’t until Sunday that I heard the story from a teacher of driver-ed about a student car with the same problem that caught fire.

After all this and taking the bus home we were somewhat late for the block party Saturday afternoon. But there was still plenty of food.

I walked to work today. It was sort of like a steam bath. Chuck called to say he has his truck back, so I won’t have to walk home.

It looks as though my promotion to the Journal Billing Group will actually happen. It was first suggested earlier this year, but was delayed by a round of layoffs, which was really ok with me because it gave me time to have my first review and raise since I've had this job. Now I'll get another raise for changing positions. Yesterday there was a departmental meeting to announce the move, and today Loretta is interviewing a friend of mine from another department for either my current job or the one vacated by Chad, our token male whose last day was Friday.

Hometown has recently experienced some technical difficulties. Some pages are no longer accessible, or may not contain edits you may have made recently. We regret any inconvenience this has caused, and apologize.

Oh, NO!!! All my pictures are gone! All of them!!! AOL says I don't have a page. That's where they all linked from. What happened?

Voluntary Roadside Interviews....I know I would be upset if this happened to me. I believe I would be arrested for refusing to cooperate.

I've begun reading The Shipping News by Annie Proulx. Interesting prose style. Many sentence fragments. Words omitted. Replete with similies, metaphors.

It's not really the wine itself.......

It seems researchers are now saying that wine drinkers just generally lead a healthier lifestyle than non-drinkers or drinkers of beer or other types of liquor.

What Women Drink...

I think the following is really just a joke, but it may have an element of truth in it. Note: I tend to drink wine at home, but when I go out I like to order an Old Fashioned.

Seven New York City bartenders were asked if they could nail a women's personality based on what she drinks. Though interviewed separately, they concurred on almost all counts.

THE RESULTS:
Drink: Beer
Personality: casual, low maintenance, down to earth
Your approach: challenge her to a game of pool

Drink: Blender Drinks
Personality: flakey, annoying, a pain in the ass
Your approach: avoid her, unless you want to be her cabin boy

Drink: White Zinfandel
Personality: easy, thinks she is classy and sophisticated, actually has no clue
Your approach: make her feel smarter than she is...

Drink: Wine
Personality: conservative and classy, sophisticated
Your approach: tell her you wish Reagan had had four more years... Alzheimer's and term limits be damned.

Drink: Mixed Drinks
Personality: older, has picky taste, know what she wants
Your approach: You don't have to approach her. She'll send YOU a drink

Drink: Shots
Personality: hanging with frat-boy pals or looking to get drunk and naked
Your approach: easiest hit in the joint. Nothing to do but wait.

The cupola repairs at church have finally begun. The workmen began erecting the scaffolding on Wednesday. Once it's repaired and repainted, it will be ready to receive the cross, which has been waiting patiently in Pastor Dale's office for the chance to once more illuminate the neighborhood. Chuck took this picture yesterday, and I'm putting it in the upper left hand corner of The Echo in place of the pen-and-ink rendering of the church that usually goes there.

I realized last night that my perception of distance and how long it takes to get somewhere is still colored by a car-less childhood. I have a haircut appointment near six corners at 8:00 a.m. today, and Chuck has an LCC Board meeting in Arlington Heights at 9:00 a.m. (he volunteered to be Treasurer this year). His Suburban is still in the process of being overhauled, as it has been for the last several weeks (I'll really be glad when it's done and I can have sole possession of my Cavalier). I was concerned about how he could drop me off at the hairdresser's and still make his meeting on time. He pointed out that since the expressway opened in 1959, Arlington Heights hasn't been that far away. I'll have to take the bus home, and it's raining, but I guess I won't melt.

The best thing about baby showers at work, other than the food, the gifts, and the fun of surprising someone, is that you don't have to play those stupid games. I made Watergate Salad for my food contribution to Bea's shower. I thought everybody in the world knew how to make it, but several people asked me for the recipe. Here it is:

1 package Jello Instant Pistacio Pudding (4 serving size)
1 can (20 oz.) crushed pineapple in JUICE (undrained)
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup miniature marshmallows
2 cups whipped topping (thawed)

Mix first four ingredients (including the juice) in a large bowl
Blend in the whipped topping
Put in serving bowl and chill

I was happy to see Tom at rehearsal last night. It's for sure he'll be in the play. He looks great, and he's very happy about his upcoming marriage.

The most difficult part about staging Finian's Rainbow is the dancing. I'm really glad I'm not one of the dancers. That's never been one of my strong points. I can't even follow the steps on an aerobics exercise tape.

There's a meeting of the RGA Committee this morning, and Loretta is taking the day off, so I have to pay close attention and take notes. I'm wearing a skirt today, and I took extra care with my hair and make-up. I'm not sure it makes much difference, since "business casual" is generally accepted where I work, but everyone at the meeting except me is part of management, so I figured it couldn't hurt. I'm still not sure why I was invited to participate or what my contribution is expected to be.

Several weeks ago, I participated in an argument with a not very bright person regarding genetics. This person insisted that the child of a surrogate mother (that is, where the already fertilized egg is implated in a host mother) would look like the woman who carried the child. Those of us who had taken high school biology told the person in no uncertain terms that this was not the case. Sunday, when I was reading a Dr. Suess book to my grandkids, it suddenly struck me how that idea could have entered someone's head. In "Horton Hatches the Egg" what finally hatches after the elephant so faithfully tends the egg is a bird with an elephant's trunk, ears and tail.

Woe is me! It's time to put together The Echo, the church newsletter that I am responsible for publishing. And of course, I'm still missing articles that were promised to me. Notable among the list of missing blurbs: The Pastor's Corner. The deadline has only been published in the weekly bulletin and announced from the pulpit for THREE WEEKS!

I found out yesterday, through the magic of Instant Messaging, that Tom may be playing the role of the "deputy" to Chuck's "sheriff" in Finian's Rainbow. I'm really so glad, and sort of proud, since I am responsible for him originally auditioning for Trinity Players. He played the role of Howard, the long time boyfriend of Rosemary (my character) in Picnic two years ago. Strange how life imitates fiction. The reason I'm not sure he'll be in this year's production is that he still has to check and make sure he has no conflicts. You see, he's marrying his girlfriend a week after our last performance. After dating her for 18 years.