Why is it that I have the most pronounced tendency to buy something nice for myself when I know I should be thinking about Christmas shopping for other people. Maybe it's because I hardly ever just idlly shop. Usually I have something in mind that I plan on getting, and I go and buy it.

A book fair came to my company today, and I bought a leather briefcase, which I probably don't need, but I liked it. It has lots of zippers and pockets and places for pens and a cell phone.

Well, I was close. By my estimate, it was a 23 point meal. But good. It was the 9 point slice of apple pie that did me in.

The trouble with Weight Watchers, or any balanced reduced calorie diet, for that matter, is that you're always thinking of food. You have to plan very carefully, or you'll be left with nothing to eat by 3:00 p.m. That's why I really like the "Flex Points" system. You start out each dieting week (my third week starts today) with 35 extra points to be used at your discretion. A point is roughly 50 calories, with an advantage for more fiber in a food and a disadvantage for more fat. At my present weight, I'm allowed 26 points per day.

My company is giving us a voucher to go to the cafeteria today for a free special Thanksgiving lunch. I could easily eat a 25 point lunch today, and I've already had 6 points. This will severly cut into my Flex Points. Well, you know what they say. TNSTAAFL. There's No Such Thing as a Free Lunch.

God loves us. Let me tell you how I know.

Thursday evening I stayed on the "L" and met Chuck downtown for the Symphony. It wasn't our regular subscription night, but one we swapped tickets for due to a conflict with the Steinmetz Homecoming football game. When we found each other, he told me we had car trouble. As he was going up the spiral ramp in the parking structure, the coolant light went on (couldn't have been the water pump or thermostat; I just had them replaced while Chuck was on his "meander" this summer). He said he could smell the antifreeze, and when he finally located a parking spot and got out of the car he could see the green iridescent trail the car had left.

The miracle of it was that he was in the parking structure when it happened. It didn't happen ten minutes earlier, when he was on the Kennedy. And it didn't happen Tuesday (Veteran's Day) when he drove to Champaign to stock up on Maul's Barbeque Sauce.

The concert was great, by the way. When I switched our tickets I had asked for "terrace" seating. We were right over the brass, and when the organ hit the low notes I could feel the music in my chest.

Dinner at Miller's Pub after the concert was wonderful, too. I ordered the salmon instead of the ribs. I've been on Weight Watchers for two weeks, and I've lost 8.8 lbs. My company is sponsoring a leader to come in to our offices. If I lose half of my initial goal (10% of my weight) the company will refund half of the fees to me. I'm almost there already. Let's see if I can keep going through Thanksgiving.

We took the Blue Line and the bus home, making perfect connections. Then Chuck got up early and called the Auto Club, took the CTA back downtown, paid an exorbitant amount for overnight parking, and met the tow truck, which took him and the car to the service station near Steinmetz. And he was on time for work!

It turned out to be the heater core, and while it was in the shop, we had the brakes worked on, too. It cost all but $13.00 of the money I had been saving for Christmas shopping. Oh, well. It's only money.

I had the day off Friday, but I had to stay home and wait for the movers to come for Ben's stuff. He is studying at the Air Force Language Institute in Monterey, CA. The movers finally showed up about 3:00 p.m., and it took all of about 30 minutes for them to pack and load all of Ben's worldly possessions.

Saturday was the LCC Fall Festival. Chuck and I went as "civilians" for the first time, since we dropped out of the choir this year. We attended the Director's Workshop, where the guest speaker was Anton Armstrong of St. Olaf College. We missed the Festival Choir rehearsal because we had to go to a wake. We went back to the Festival for the dinner and stayed to listen to the concert instead of singing this time.

It was really great to see everyone again. Bev was there with her baby, Abby. And of course, Floyd, who is having all kinds of fun teaching 6 and 7 year olds in a private school.

I have 50 more pages to read in a book for which I had high hopes.

I felt somewhat unqualified to render judgement on such a book. After all, the author was published and I was not. But then the voice of reason spoke: My husband said, "And how many books have you read?"

But, still, the author had written such a sensible tome about the proceess of writing itelf. (Is anyone into ornitology?) My thought is that the author should have re-read the previous publication and followed the rules set forth therein.

Everything is so jisjointed. There are probably three good stories in there, but they need to be separated from all the day-to-day garbage.

I don't really care about the changing of the seasons.

Well, yes, I do, but not in a book.

Does anybody out there know what book I'm talking about?

Through the wonders of modern technology, I was able to call my daugher-in-law, Donna in Germany while I was at work this week at a time when she would be likely to be home and awake, and still not lose my job for making non-business related transatlantic phone calls. I love my cell phone. What I found out is that everything is just peachy.

She went through a week of excruciating pain following a spinal tap that revealed that there is nothing wrong with her. She doesn't have a brain tumor. Her sudden loss of vision is due to a hormonal shift, and everybody seems to think everything's just fine. Donna now has glasses (Coke-bottle bottoms) that correct her vision to 20/20, and her driver's license has been reinstated.

Now that the crisis is over, I got my renewed passport in the mail today when I got home from work. (Yeah, this was my Saturday to work.) I suppose it's a good thing I didn't have it when all the hulabaloo was happening, or I might have just jumped on a plane.

They send the old passport back with the renewed one, so you can keep it as a souvenier. There are a couple of punch holes in the old one, so you won't get confused and take the wrong one on your next trip. It will be doubly easy for me to not get confused, because my old one was green. It was issued in 1993, and was the Benjamin Franklin memorial edition. The new one is blue like everyone else's.

Comparing the two pictures, I can't say I really look 10 years older, just several pounds heavier.

After the Cubs broke our hearts yet again this week, it was fun to go to the Steinmetz Homecoming football game at Hansen Park Thursday evening. Steinmetz won 30-29 in overtime.

An absolutely gorgeous fall day today, and I managed to take full advantage of it by taking my Dec. 24th floating holiday today. Chuck and Jim were both off, too. Chuck spent the day running around. One place he went was Supreme Lobster. In honor of the Cubs/Marlins playoff series still in progress, Chuck thought it would be appropriate to have grilled marlin for dinner.

Jim and I went out to the Chicago Botanic Gardens. I wanted to be sure to enjoy what may be the last really nice day of the season. It's supposed to be cold and rainy tomorrow.

It's been a nerve-wracking week. Donna is still having tests, and is scheduled for a spinal tap on Oct. 14. The German neurologist said there was "no need to intervene" and sent her to get corrective lenses for her now 20/700 vision. But she had to go back to the Army doctor for a referral before he could give her the prescription. Will was supposed to go back to Germany, but the Army decided Donna's condition wasn't "serious enough" to allow it. I wonder what they would consider serious enough?

Will called yesterday and assured us that they were handling things as well as could be expected.

I found out that what Donna has is a prolactinoma, a tumor on the pituitary gland. It is likely to be benign and to respond to medication, thank goodness. But before the medication begins to work, she may need to have a spinal tap to drain off the excess fluid, which is causing pressure on the optic nerve. I hope Will is allowed to go back to Germany to help her.

So, I've finally found out what it is that Chuck objects to about weblogging. He said, "Why are you giving so much energy to that (not that I have been) when you could be writing a short story or a novel?"

My immeidate reply was that I could only write about what I kenw, and I could be sued for that. So he said, "Just file off the serial numbers and deny everything."

Truth can be stranger than fiction. What do you think? Please respond. I don't think anyone beyond the family reads me anyway.

I was woken up at 3:00 a.m. by a phone call from Will from Iraq. He's having so much fun dodging the mortar shells that keep being fired into his camp. One exploded right behind him the other day. (Thanks, Will, for sharing that and adding to my worry). Donna, his wife, who is in Germany has been having some health problems. Apparently, there has been a build-up of fluid in Donna's brain that has caused her to lose part of her sight. If she is going to have to have surgery, Will should be allowed to go back to Germany, at least for a few weeks.

While I was at dance class last night, Diana called and talked to Chuck. Rick has another new job. At least this one is in town, not 300 miles away. David is in Cub Scouts now. Time flies.

The play went well, and the cast party was Sunday at the home of one of Floyd's voice students in Oak Park. We really had the A-team this year as a cast. Floyd commented that it was the most compatible cast in his memory. Grace and Mary even had an award for him. They gave him a cucumber for being "cool as a cucumber" this year. Of course, the level of professionalism of the group made getting hot under the collar quite unnecessary.

I spoke to my son in Germany yesterday, and he'll be going back to Iraq on Thursday. This time around, though he's been promised better conditions such as latrines instead of "dig your own hole", cots instead of sleeping in the back of a truck, showers, temporary mess halls instead of MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), and more opportunities to communicate with loved ones. Donna will stay in Germany with the girls. Heidi starts pre-school next week, and what a talker she is! She got on the phone and talked to me for five minutes without a breath.

This past week was a predictable round of work and play rehearsals, and now I'm gearing up for a marathon week ending in opening night on Friday. Tonight is the first dress rehearsal. For any of my vast Chicagoland readership who is interested, here is the info:

Trinity Players present
TEN LITTLE INDIANS
by Agatha Christie

Six Performances Only!

September 12, 13, 19, 20, 2003 at 8:00 pm
September 14, 21, 2003 at 2 pm

Trinity Lutheran Church
5106 N. LaCrosse Ave.
(Foster, Elston and Cicero Avenues)
Chicago, Illinois 60630

Tickets: Adult $10.00 Student (with ID) $8.00 Child (12 & under) $5.00

Call 773-736-1457 for info or tickets

I'm still trying to get used to the new schedule. No more time for posting first thing in the morning, and I've been too tired to do it at night, so here's a catch up on the past week:

Friday, August 22, 2003 - Bob and I went to see the L'Opera Picola production of The Barber of Seville. I'm beginning to be a bit concerned about him. He managed to get lost driving down there. He dropped me off to pick up the tickets, so I didn't see where he parked. After the performance, we got lost walking to his car. He told me it was a good hike, but we seemed to be walking forever. When we got to Diversey, he decided we were off course. We finally did find it. Glad I was wearing comfortable shoes.

Saturday, August 23, 2003 - I went with Janis and Joanie to the dedication of the portion of Milwaukee Avenue named for our dance teacher, follwed by a luncheon at La Villa. Later that afternoon we hosted the annual Choir Barbeque. In spite of some folks being away on vacation, there was a good turnout, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. My usual pre-party jitters of "Nobody's going to show up" turned out, as usual, to be unfounded.

Tuesday, August 26 - I tried out the beauty salon in the next building and got a haircut during my lunch hour. It's the first time I've had anyone but Julie cut my hair in about six years, but it sure was convenient, and Melissa did a nice job. It saves a Saturday morning for me, driving all the way to Six Corners.

Wednesday, August 27 - Dawn and I got together with Mary for lunch. Just like old times when the three of us worked at Sabratek. Mary works just across Higgins from where we are. Next time we'll have to think of someplace better than McDonald's to meet.

Friday, August 29 - I talked to my daughter and found out that she had gallbladder surgery a week ago on the 22nd. Rick took the week off from work, and Diana is doing fine. I knew she was going to have it, but I didn't know when, and she negelcted to call me before she went in the hospital. Fortunately, it was able to be done laporiscopically.

Saturday, August 30 - Bruce's father passed away, and we attended the funeral Saturday morning. Bruce was best man at our wedding, and his wife Joan is the daughter of the minister who married us. They live in Texas, and Chuck visited them while he was on his three week "meander" this summer.

We spent the rest of the afternoon at a Troop 979 Boy Scout reunion picnic honoring Russ's 50 years as Scoutmaster. People came from all over the country for this. Today at church the gymnasium will be named in honor of Russ.

I needed time to walk for exercise. I needed time to read. Both those things came to me this past week in the form of my company's move to its new office space. I now walk 10 minutes to the bus, read until I get to the end of the line, take the Blue Line one stop and walk 15 minutes to my building.

My company is renting three floors of one of a complex of three buildings at Higgins and River Road. The workspaces are constructed in such a way that everyone has natural light, much different from our place in Skokie, where most of us never knew what was happening outside.

It's all beautifully landscaped, and there is a plaza between the buildings with chairs and tables for dining al fresco. Our building has a full-service cafeteria, and the next building over has a Wall Street Deli, a florist, a copy place, a bank, a hair salon and a health club. Our floor also has a "cafe" for those who bring their lunch, which I managed to do all last week. There is a refrigerator, two microwaves, vending machines and about ten tables.

The move went pretty smoothly. My department was in the second phase of the move, and the third and final phase is happening this weekend. All my boxes were waiting for me Monday morning in my cube, and it didn't take me very long to unpack. The only problem was we weren't set up to print until Tuesday, and then Wednesday we were down most of the day due to a virus in the system.

Be It Ordained by the City Council of the City of Chicago:
SECTION 1. That an ordinance heretofore passed by the City Council of the City
of Chicago establishing honorary street-name signs to honor “Miss Geris Way” in
the 3400 block of North Milwaukee Avenue is hereby amended by changing the
honorary street-name signs to “Miss Mroz Panicko Way”.
SECTION 2. This ordinance shall take effect and be in force hereinafter its
passage and due publication.

The above is from the minutes of the Chicago City Council of July 9, 2003. The reason for the change was that Miss Geri wanted to honor her mother, who made it possible for her to fulfill her dream at the age of seventeen and open a dance studio. I took part in her 51st recital on June 14 of this year.

The ceremony for the street naming will be on Saturday, August 23 at 10:30 a.m.

I got a new headshot taken this year for the play. This is the first time I've put my own picture on my weblog.

I'm usually not very photogenic, but this isn't a really terrible picture. I mean, I think it looks a little like me. Quite unlike the photos I had taken at WalMart for my passport renewal. They had to take the shots three times, and I'm still not willing to use the final result. I don't think that was so much me as the photograher who didn't know what he was doing. I'll try somewhere else before I send in for a renewal.

I got my review today, and was quite satisfied with the results. Loretta had a lot of nice things to say about me. Unlike Denise, who reviewed me last year. She is less experienced at being a manager than Loretta is, and felt the need to try to find something uncomplimentary, just so it would look like there was need for improvement.

We got a call from Ben Saturday evening. He attempted to give us his address at Basic Training, but only managed to spit out half of it before he said he had to leave. What's that about? Chuck said that when he was in Basic, he sent a postcard home with his address. That would have been preferable.

Hosted a birthday party for Ariana, my two-year old grand-neice on Sunday. Chuck spent the whole afternoon grilling. I mostly tried to find a quiet corner away from all the strangers who had invaded my house. There was a violent storm for part of the time that dropped about three inches of rain in some places and snowdrifts of hail. We were lucky. We didn't get any water in the basement. Janis and others in Jeff Park got water up to the first basement step. I managed to escape the chaos at my house by 7:00 p.m. because I had play rehearsal. I couldn't miss, because they were taking publicity photos.

Got a call from Will very early Monday morning. He's being sent back to Iraq. Apparently, the new commanding general wanted to know where the rest of the unit was, and he wasn't pleased with the answer that they had been rotated back to Germany. Never mind that Will had already served a 7-month tour "in theater", a month of which was right in the thick of things. Just when I was starting to relax, now the worry will start all over again.

I went to the M.E.P.S. to watch Ben get sworn into the Air Force on Tuesday. He was really excited about leaving for Basic Training. I wonder what he's feeling right now? He'll come back here after Basic, and then go to a year-long tech school in Monterey, CA.

Loretta told me I was getting a raise, but I don't yet know how much because I haven't had my official review yet. I was late at my desk yesterday working on CED, and the head of HR stopped by, nosing around to see what I was doing there so late. I told him I was doing two jobs, Journal Billing and Credit. He said, "Bless your heart!" Whatever that means.

Things are back to normal around here. Chuck got back from his three-week "meander" out to Arizona Saturday, and Ben flew back yesterday from visiting his dad and Diana in Arizona.

Chuck got to see everything he had planned to see except for the Memphis Belle, which had been moved from Mud Island along the riverwalk in Memphis to a site where it is undergoing further restoration. He visited Scott AFB, where we spent over 7 years. He called me from the Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City, KS one evening. He went to Dalhart, TX and stayed the night with an old friend, the best man at our wedding. He saw the Grand Canyon, and finally got out to Page, AZ and spent a few days with Diana and took the grandkids fishing in Lake Powell. He saw Carlsbad and Roswell, and visited Abilene, TX and took a picture of the house we owned and lived in when we were there.

The solitude was an interesting experience, but it's nice to have everyone home.

The folks from the CTA and Metra came out to work yesterday to explain to everyone the best routes for getting to our new building. I already knew how to get there, but I got a free pen and a transit map of Chicago.

I'm definitely leaning towards taking public transportation. By doing so, I'll have some built-in walking, built-in reading time, and I can pay for it with pre-tax dollars. Not a bad deal.

Yesterday was "clean-up" day in our department in preparation for the big move. At our new place, all the lateral file drawers will be three drawers high rather than four. Some weeks ago we had emptied the top drawer of each cabinet. Yesterday, Loretta was informed that a.) the second drawer had to be emptied that day because there was a crew there to convert the files into three-drawer ones, and b.) that the file cabinets would not be moved filled, as was originally thought.

We grabbed enough moving boxes for the files in the second drawers in our department, plus two each for our personal files. It's a good thing we did so early, because I heard that they ran out of moving boxes. This move is not as well-planned as it could be.

We had to take home all our personal things yesterday. I didn't have nearly the amount of things other folks have, just two plants, two glass paperweights and a couple of pictures, but my cube sure looks naked now. And it will be a month until our department moves to the new building.

Yesterday I had my first pedicure ever. My boss, Loretta, gets them all the time, and she had told me it was an experience not to be missed. I kept thinkng, "What's the big deal? Why should I pay so much for polished toes?" Well, now I know. It's so much more than that. You sit in a massaging chair, sipping cool water while your feet soak in a relaxing whirlpool bath. The toenails get cut and shaped, the cuticles get pushed back and trimmed, the dead skin on the foot is removed and the whole foot and lower leg is exfoliated. It's wonderful! You must try it.

Here are some instructions for the perfect home pedicure in case you still don't want to go the spa route, even after my glowing recommendation.

You won't go blind. In fact, it's actually good for you!

I just registered both my home phone numbers with the Do Not Call list. Starting in October I will be free from callers interrupting dinner wanting me to buy aluminum siding for my brick home, switch credit cards or phone companies, or buy a time-share in the Okefenokee Swamp.

Dinner isn't the only inconvenient time these folks call. It's usually when I'm expecting a call from someone I know. I may be in the basement playing musical laundry loads when I hear the phone ring and dash upstairs only to hear my name mispronounced, which is good for an immediate hangup. Another frequent occasion is when I'm in the shower and end up running to the phone dripping wet and naked.

Several people I know refuse to answer the phone at all, even when they are right next to it. They let the answering machine get it, and if they hear a familiar voice, they might pick up. I'm not very good at doing that. I always have hope that it may be someone I really want to talk to or someone calling with some really good news.

I sure hope there's a working computer on my desk when I go in to work today. the new IT guy came and installed a working CD-ROM drive on my computer yesterday, and when we tried to boot it back up, the computer refused to talk to the network and there was a "temperature" warning. He took the box upstairs to try to breathe some life into it, and he also promised me it would have more RAM when I get it back.

My company finally held a communications meeting yesterday that gave us some official information about the move to the new building.

I had taken the Blue Line there on Saturday, just to see where it was. The building is one of three identical ones, and we are in the middle one. It's just under a mile walk from the train stop, but there is a shuttle bus for the office building complex that leaves the terminal every half hour in the morning and evening. There is a five story covered parking garage with an underground walkway to the building. There is a cafeteria, day care center, hair salon, convenience store, and health club in the building.

I would have to leave work a good deal earlier than I do now to take public transportation, but it might be worth it just for the chance to build some walking into my normal daily routine, something I haven't done for way too long. Also, there is an arrangement for buying the transit fares with pre-tax dollars, which may make it financially worthwhile. I must investigate that possibility.

A sample of the "workspaces" was unveiled at yesterday's meeting. I think there may be about as much file space as we have now, and there is also a locker for each cube so one can hang a coat and store shoes and boots out of the way. Everyone will be getting new flat-screen monitors for their computers, which will be much more space efficient than the huge CRTs everyone has now.

The move will take place over three different weekends, with my group going in the second wave on August 16th. I'm looking forward to it.

We went to the Taste of Chicago on the 4th, early, which in my opinion is the only time to go, by public transportation, which in my opinion is the only way to go. We got there just as it opened at 11:00 and I headed straight for the lobster tail and garlic potatoes all the way at the end. There was no way I was going to miss it this year! One of the best values in "taste" portions was a half-pita sandwich from Cousins Restaurant, a Turkish restaurant that used to be on Clark Street in the heart of Andersonville, but has since moved to someplace on Irving Park Road.

While I was there, I purchased a Chicago Card at the CTA booth. This transit card has a chip inside of it, and you don't have to dig in your pocket or purse for it. Just hold your wallet or purse against the spot on the fare meter or turnstyle until you hear the ding. It is registered, so if you ever lose it, you can have it replaced with the value that was on it at the time it was lost. Very cool.

Last night we blocked the first act, and we actually got through the whole thing. I get to be unconditionally nasty and quite dramatic in places. After the first character dies, I find one of the china Indians "bro-o-o-ken", and that ends the first act.

I brought my knitting to rehearsal, and Madeline told me I was doing it wrong. "No self-respecting English lady would knit in that "German" manner, " she said. Instead of holding the yarn in my right hand and throwing it over the stitches, I hold it in my left hand and loop it over. I don't know why I do it that way, but I've never felt comfortable any other way. Not that I knit that often. I bet I haven't knit anything in 25 years. Well, I'm not going to change my style now.

Six of us went out to eat after rehearsal, including Floyd, Annie, Grace, Tony, Tom (Nan's DH), and me. I just have so much fun with that group. Annie is Korean, and every time she learns a new word, she feels compelled to use it constantly for at least a week. I used the word "flustered", and I expect to be hearing it a few times at the next rehearsal, which isn't until next Tuesday, due to the holiday.

Sunday was the first reading of the play. There are only two cast members that I don't know. The rest are mostly the old team: the two Toms, Bob, Sasha, Madeline, Tony. Floyd got Charlie from LCC to play the role of the manservant that Chuck turned down. And Mary will be stage manager again. I got some yarn last night to start the "nondescript gray knitting" called for in my part. It's lucky I know how to knit.

The kids from College Works Painting started on the wood trim on the outside of our house yesterday. I think the scraping and priming will take longer than the painting itself.

I knew there was a mouse in the house. I could hear it scratching and squeaking in my office. So I asked Chuck to set some traps last week. After several days nothing had been caught, so I got sort of lax about checking them. Yesterday evening I was sitting at my desk and I noticed a disagreeable odor. I don't know how long it had been there....eeeeew!

The business trip was, I think, productive. The owner of the company wanted to go back to "the old way," but our sales rep stood firm and said that wasn't going to happen. We are prepared to make a few concessions to get things back on track from two years ago when they went on the program, but they will continue to be a Journal Billing customer. The owner's wife does most of the accounting work, and she seemed reasonable and will be easy to work with to get the differences resolved.

Don, our sales rep, took us to lunch at a German restaurant after the meeting. I was the only one that had anything German - jagerschnitzel. I don't know if that's spelled right, but it's breaded veal with a hunter sauce and mushrooms.

Then came the really serious part of the day-----shopping at the outlet stores. I bought three pairs of shoes at the Naturalizer outlet, a rain jacket at the Totes outlet, and a "Laser Leveler" at the Black and Decker outlet.

I spent the evening reading "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" out on the back porch, even though the air conditioning had been seen to earlier in the day, and the house was cooling off nicely. I just love that porch. I saw the summer stretching out before me with nothing to do in the evenings except sit on the porch and read.........until the phone rang.

It was Flyod, and he offered me the role in "Ten Little Indians" that I would have hoped for had I been able to audition. It's the role of Emily Brent, a "disagreeable spinster". I'm supposed to call him back later today with my decision. Of course it's yes.

I pre-ordered the new Harry Potter book, and it arrived yesterday. I guess Dorothy Parker will have to wait. But so will Harry Potter, until I get back from Milwaukee.

I'm going on my first ever business trip tomorrow with Loretta and Sheila. We're going to Milwaukee to call on a customer that doesn't seem to understand the Journal Billing system, and thus has outstanding debits for money to which he is not entitled. I'm really to be the "silent partner" since I don't know enough to say anything. I'm really just there to learn. And maybe do a little shopping at the outlet malls on the way back.......

I think things may finally be getting somewhat back to normal, whatever that really is. After three weekends in a row of performances (LCC concerts, Strawberry Festival, Will’s Welcome Home party, Miss Geri’s Dance Recital), Ben’s graduation on Tuesday, and working yesterday, I at last have a day with only minor responsibilities. I even skipped church today.

I’m still not used to the new work schedule. That extra hour per day really makes a difference. I used to still have some energy when I got home to do a few domestic chores, but this past week I pretty much let everything slide. I’m so glad Chuck didn’t make me go to “Family Fun Night” at church last night. He had to go because the event was sponsored by the Diaconate, of which he is the chair. Yesterday was my one Saturday per month to work, and when I got home I really felt overwhelmed. The house looked like a bomb had gone off, spewing clothing, papers and dirty dishes everywhere. The last thing I wanted to do was sit for several hours playing board games.

I did the only sensible thing…….I took a nap. And then I had a sandwich. Then I played the 15-minute game. Fifteen minutes clearing up the dishes. (It’s amazing what having a clean sink and counter will do for one’s attitude.) Fifteen minutes reading a book out on the screen porch. I’m reading “The Portable Dorothy Parker”. I don’t really think much of her poetry, but her short stories are right on the mark. Fifteen minutes to make the bed with fresh sheets and get last week’s sheets washing. Fifteen minutes with my feet up, feeling the gentle breeze through the screens, listening to the cardinals in the backyard. Fifteen minutes to vacuum the front room and dining room and empty the trash. And so on. By the time Chuck got home the house looked better and I felt better.

As it got darker on the porch last night, I realized why I hadn’t spent more time in the evenings reading there. The lantern-style swag lamp next to my chair cast strange shadows on the page. It was fine for conversation, but not much good for reading. So this afternoon, we went to Menard’s and got a summery looking white-shaded light with nothing below the bulb to block the light.










Ben graduated Tuesday evening from North Side College Preparatory High School. He started there four years ago in the new school’s first freshman class. The thing that distinguishes this school from many other of the Chicago Public Schools is that the students actually want to be there. They had to score high on tests and apply to get in. None of the students there were just marking time until they barely managed to graduate or dropped out. There was an impressive list of scholarship winners and other academic honors awarded to North Side graduating seniors.







Chuck, his sister Janis, and our friend Jim attended the ceremony, which was held at the gym at Loyola University and was mercifully short. Or as short as it could be with a class of over 330 students. I could have done without the performance of a student-written song, accompanied on guitar, bidding farewell to North Side. But it was obvious the students were proud to have been a part of shaping the character of the school.

Locating Ben after the ceremony took awhile, and getting out of the parking structure took a LONG while. When we finally got home, we had some champagne and gave Ben his presents. Cards with enough money to fund his trip to Arizona to see his family before he leaves for the Air Force on August 5th, and two pieces of luggage. We spoke of going out to dinner today to celebrate, but Ben had an invitation from Jenny (nice name), the girl he took to the prom, to go to Six Flags today.

At dance class Tuesday evening, the last class before the big receital, Miss Carol asked who in the class had a weblog? Apparently, there are a few folks who actually do read my meagre ramblings. She said some lady called Miss Geri's School of Dance and wanted to know if that was still the same Miss Geri that she had taken dance lessons from 20 years ago. She had read my description of the class and the costumes.

Oh, dear......I still have to hem my jazz pants. They were fine with my sparkly gold high heels Saturday night, but they are definitely too long for the jazz shoes.

I think I finally (mostly) have the steps. Now if I can just remember to hold my line and stay in my window. I hope Saturday is really cold.

It's time to play catch up again. Not sure I'll ever feel really caught up.

Will and his family came for dinner a week ago, and it was so wonderful to have them here! (They're staying up north with Donna's folks.) Chuck made his famous spaghetti sauce, of course. Heidi was asleep when they arrived, and slept on through the entire evening. After dinner, Donna and I left both of the girls at home and went to Barnes and Noble. Donna was thrilled to once more be in a book store where the majority of the books are published in English. We got all the "Junie B." books that she hadn't yet read to Heidi.

I missed auditions for the play this year because of Strawberry Festival. Friday night I was helping cut strawberries, and of course Saturday was the show itself. I started off by singing "There's No Business Like Show Business". I was wearing the sequined, beaded jacket that I had let Janis borrow for the fashion show and the pants I'm going to wear for the jazz number in the dance receital on Saturday. The pants have sort of a ladder effect going up the sides, alternating cloth and bare skin. I got lots of comments on that outfit. The show turned out pretty good. Janis and Rick had their solo debuts this year, and both did quite well.

Sunday we had an open house for Will and his family. My boss, Loretta, came and brought a big bouquet of yellow roses. Floyd showed up with a huge potted geranium with three American flags stuck in it. The party started out slow, but gathered momentum later. I was glad I had planned a vacation day for Monday, so I could take my time cleaning up.

My work schedule has changed a bit. A week ago Monday the girl who replaced me when I got promoted came in, picked up her personal items, and left without saying a word to anybody. They say they're going to look for a replacement, but I'm not holding my breath. In the meantime, I'm doing 5 hours of overtime a week trying to do two jobs.

WILL IS HOME! He's in the States on leave until the 14th. He called from his in-laws' house about 10:30 last night, and he, his wife Donna, and the girls Heidi and Heather came by where I work. I introduced him to all the people who signed a card that was sent to him when he was out in the desert watching the firefights, and he thanked them all for their support. There were many who thanked him for what he did, to which he replied, "It's my job."

It was so wonderful to feel that rib-cracking bear-hug again and see him face to face. Like when he was born, he has all five fingers on each hand and five toes on each foot (I assume---I didn't make him take off his shoes). He was wearing his desert uniform, and he called everyone Sir and Ma'am. He had a long talk with George, my boss's boss, who happened to have a map of Iraq in his office. Will showed him all the places he was.

I hadn't seen Will, Donna or Heidi for two years, and this was the first time I met my newest granddaughter, Heather. The girls are so sweet! Heather smiles and gives everyone "high fives". Donna is so sensible and calm. When the war started, she turned off the television and didn't listen to anything anyone was telling her if he wasn't in uniform.

After they were done at my work, they went to Steinmetz and Chuck introduced him around.

Ok, I know this isn't original, but I got this in an email yesterday, and almost all of these things apply to me. Leave a comment if they apply to you, too.

You Might Be From Chicago If......

The "living room" is called the "front room."

You don't pronounce the "s" at the end of Illinois. You become irate at people who do.

You measure distance in minutes (especially "from the city"). And you swear everything is pretty much 1/2 hour away.

You have no problem spelling or pronouncing "Des Plaines."

You go to visit friends or family down south and laugh when they complain about the traffic.

Stores don't have sacks, they have bags.

You end your sentences with an unnecesary preposition. Example: "Where's my coat at?" or "If you go to the mall I wanna go with."

Your idea of a great tenderloin is when the meat is twice as big as the bun, "everything" is on it and a slice of dill pickle is on the side.

You carry jumper cables in your car.

You drink "pop."

You understand that I-290, I-90, I-94, and I-294 are all different roads.

You know the names of the interstates: Stevenson, Kennedy, Eisenhower, Dan Ryan, and the Edens. But you call the interstates "expressways."

You refer to anything south of I-80 as "Southern or Central Illinois."

You refer to Lake Michigan as "The Lake."

You refer to Chicago as "The City."

"The Super Bowl" refers to one specific game in January 1986.

You have two favorite football teams: The Bears, and anyone who beats the Packers.

You buy "The Trib" and not the Tribune.

You think 45 degrees is great weather to wash your car.

You picnic or ride your bike in the "forest preserve."

You cried when Bozo was canceled on WGN.

You know what goes on a Chicago style hot dog.

You know what Chicago Style Pizza REALLY is.

You know why they call Chicago "The Windy City."

You understand what "lake-effect" means.

You know the difference between Amtrak and Metra, and know which station they end up at.

You have ridden the "L."

You've been looped in The Loop.

You think your next-door neighbor is a cousin to Tony Soprano.

You can distinguish between the following area codes: 847, 630, 773, 708, 312, & 815.

You have at some time in your life, used your furniture or a friend's body to guard your parking space in winter.

You respond to the question "Where are you from?" with a "side." Example: "West Side" or (in my case) "Northwest Side."

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST.......
You know the phone number to Empire Carpet!

This is another non-stop week, culminating in two Lutheran Choir of Chicago concerts on the weekend.

Strawberry Festival will be on the 7th, and I've decided on singing "There's No Business Like Show Business".

And the dreaded dance receital from Miss Geri's School of Dance will be on Saturday, June 14th at Lane Tech auditorium (performances at 1:30 p.m. and 7:00 p.m.). Yes, it's official now. I picked up my costumes last night, a sequined tuxedo top for the tap (music: "I Love a Piano") and a leopard print top for the jazz number (music: drum beats - no name). Joanie keeps asking me if Chuck will be there to "support me". I'm really not pushing him to be. I have a feeling if he is there, I'll be hearing comparisons to a certain section of Fantasia for a long time to come.

Thursday of last week, Ben informed me that he still needed to see one more play for his drama class, a professional or community production as opposed to a school effort. I called the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts in Skokie and found that it is now the home of The Northlight Theatre. So Sunday we went to see At Wit's End, a bright, funny musical centering around just one of the many possible stories that could have been told of the members of the Algonquin Round Table, a group of writers, actors, and critics who regularly had lunch at the Algonquin Hotel during the post World War I period.

The story centers around the founding of The New Yorker magazine, and the rivalry of Alexander Woollcott with Jane Grant's husband Harold Ross. Other characters in this ensemble cast include Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley, Helen Hayes, Tallulah Bankhead, Edna Ferber, Franklin P. Adams, George S. Kaufman and Marc Connelly. They manage to get most of the well known witticisms commonly attributed to Dorothy Parker into the dialog. While none of the songs will stand on their own, they were pleasant and energetic and fit well into the story. The musical runs until June 22, and I highly recommend it to anyone of my vast readership in the Chicago area.

At one point the character of Alec Woollcott does a little tap dance, and I was amazed to find myself able to identify the individual moves that made up his dance. Something I never could have done before this year.

I just finally spoke to my son, Will, for the first time since Christmas! He's back in civilization in Germany with his wife and two girls, and he's planning a trip home to the states soon for a visit. What a relief from all the tension of knowing he was in danger.

And another piece of good news. The parent company of the company I work for said they couldn't institute the pay cuts that had been proposed. Now if we can just not have any layoffs, we'll be fine.

The company I work for has decided that they will not make their profit numbers for the end of the fiscal year (ending September 30) unless they cut salaries by 5% for June through September. The last time they did something like this, it was an "unpaid furlough". They took the money, but they gave us five days off. I could deal with that. This time they're just taking it. Of course, there's nothing to be done but wait it out.

A week ago Thursday afternoon I took a half day off from work and went to a meeting of The Guild. Back in the dark ages when this group started, it was the Woman's Guild. (Yes, the spelling is correct. I was censured for changing it on an Annual Report for our church). That was in the day when the man went out to work and woman stayed home and looked after the house and children. Having done a little of both, I think the man got the best deal. I'm not sure when it became just The Guild. It was sometime around when they realized that any woman who was of working age was working (because who can live on just one income?), and that the only people who came to meetings were retired women and their husbands or significant others who drove them. Since the alternative for the men who drove was to go down the street to Fishman's for a few brews, the men were welcomed into membership as well.

The purpose of this organization is to support the church, but they are independent of the church. They are responsible for two Rummage Sales and the Christmas Bazaar each year, great fund raisers. The Guild makes an annual pledge to the church, and they usually exceed it by special designated gifts. They make a great point of saying that every member of the church is a member of The Guild, which is how they get around the fact that most of them are too old to actually do the work of these fund-raising events, therefore pressing into service every able-bodied person who doesn't know how to say no to a little old lady asking for help. Since most of the male members of our congregation are former members of Scout Troop 979, you can understand where that help comes from.

To get back to the meeting I attended, just let me say that it was unique. To begin with, there was a potluck luncheon with enough food to feed half of the city of Chicago. I came in at the tail end of the "meeting" portion, just in time to hear one of the twins (74 years old, I believe) read a tribute to Mother (in honor of Mothers' Day, May 11). The tables were elegantly set with lace tablecloths and sparkling centerpieces designed by Ellen. After completely pigging out on chicken, lasagne, broccoli salad, several other kinds of salad, baked beans, several kinds of potato (you get the picture), not to mention the desserts, the "program" portion began.

The program was entitled "Thrift Shop Fashion Show". Ellen served as master of ceremonies, and she had also provided a blue and white balloon archway and white paper "runway" for the models. Ken was dressed up in a tux with a blue ruffled shirt, and he escorted all the models through the archway. With the exception of some wedding dresses that were family heirlooms, all of the clothes were purchased at thrift shops, resale shops or rummage sales. My sister-in-law Janis (one of the youngest people there) modeled a sequined, beaded jacket that I had gotten at a resale shop a while ago and lent to her for the occasion. Joanie wore her mother's wedding dress which had a train longer than twice her height and a veil even longer. Lucie modeled two outfits, and wore silver tap shoes with each one. It was really just a lot of old ladies acting silly, but it was great fun, and well worth taking an afternoon off for.

We had our first rehearsal for Strawberry Festival last night. The theme is "Back to Broadway" and the choir is singing medleys from The Sound of Music, Finian's Rainbow, and Oliver!, as well as individual songs, ending with Rick playing tuba in "Seventy-six Trombones". Solo numbers are yet to be determined, but Chuck and I may do the "Lida Rose/Dream of Now" duet from The Music Man.

Strawberry Festival has taken place in early June at my church for more years than anyone can remember. Tradition has it that there was to be an ice-cream social on the church lawn that had to be moved inside to Mayflower Hall when storm clouds gathered. To kill time while things were being set up, the choir entertained with a few impromptu secular numbers. And the rest, as they say, is history. The admission is free, and the cost of the strawberry sundaes, shortcakes, etc. is very reasonable. It's a pretty good deal for a Saturday evening. Details below:

Strawberry Festival
Theme: "Back to Broadway"

Saturday, June 7, 2003 7:30 p.m.

Congregational Church of Jefferson Park
5320 W. Giddings
Chicago, IL

For further information, call (773) 725-0121

Too Smart for His Own Good......

The enterprising young high school student who took over publishing The Echo from me has just had a visit from Consequences. He was having trouble in his computer class. Did he ask the teacher for help? No. He decided he could figure it out for himself if he could just analyze what he was doing. So he illegally loaded a program that would record keystrokes. Too late, he realized that he was getting the entire class's keystrokes, including passwords. Did he ask the teacher for help then? No. He decided he had to remove the program. Somehow in that process (don't ask me how because I'm not that geeky), he caused a virus in the system.

He'll find out this week just what the Consequences are, but they are likely to involve suspension and community service.

I went to Bev’s baby shower yesterday at Grace’s apartment. I sat between Ev and Murphy, a 20 year old Amazon green parrot that can bark like a dog and quack like a duck, among other sounds. Grace’s other two parrots, a 3-year old gray and another small one, were much quieter than Murphy.

After the obligatory “mad-lib” game, we got right to the business of Bev opening her presents. I think she's pretty well set to welcome her little girl into the world. After the presents and the cake, Bev said that she felt guilty for all the attention and getting so many nice things. She said she hadn’t done anything to deserve such generosity.

On the contrary, I think she has done something very special. Becoming a parent is an act, not only of love, but also of faith. Faith in the future, faith that everything is a miracle. Every gift that was showered on her was a celebration of that faith. In a crazy world, it allows us to realize that there is hope.

I threw away my Easter corsage today. It's been sitting there on the kitchen counter since the afternoon of April 20. It isn't that I haven't seen it there. I was well aware of it. I'm not really a slob who doesn't throw away garbage. But I must admit that the reason I didn't throw it away before was guilt.

Last year for Easter, Chuck got me a nice orchid corsage, and then forgot to give it to me. So this year, he gave it to me on the afternoon of Saturday, April 19, putting the ball squarely in my court, so to speak. Well, I didn't make a basket. As usual, it's enough for me to remember to put on clothes when I'm trying to get out the door in time to be at church enough before 7:30 a.m. to put on my choir robe. So, of course, I forgot about the lovely corsage Chuck had so thoughtfully gotten for me. Maybe I should tell him to put the flower money in the offering plate from now on. That would avoid Flower Guilt, anyway.

I've had pretty much of nothing to talk about lately. I'm really stuck in a rut of going to work, coming home, eating dinner, washing dishes, going to bed.......just to start the whole sequence again the next day. Today there has been a variation! Chuck decided he needed to use up some eggs and leftover ham, so he made omelets for breakfast. I'll have to make more of an effort to take notice of what's going on around me. I'll report back later.

In the meantime, if you want to know what the rest of the blogging world is talking about, pop on over to Metapop (link via Fred).

I had to stay late at work yesterday, but only until about quarter of six this time, rather than 10:00 p.m. like last month. We were able to have Lana, one of the programmers, run a certain utility early in the day, rather than waiting for it to be done automatically at 6:00 p.m., and that made all the difference.

First it was Dutch elm disease, then the Asian longhorned beetle. Yesterday Rich, my neighbor who is a marine biologist in charge of Lake Michigan, told me about the emerald ash borer. I hope they can get it under control before it does too much damage.

This brings to mind the apricot tree we had in our backyard in Texas. It died, and I didn't know why. My neighbor there informed me that it was "fruit borers" and I could have saved the tree if I had sprayed it. Who knew? Certainly not me.

How to Get Fired We got a new temp in our department this week. Here are the things the old one did to get herself canned:

1. Walked around talking to people instead of sitting at her desk doing her work
2. Had long phone conversations with her friends instead of doing her work (and her cube was right next to the boss's office)
3. Fell asleep at her desk instead of doing her work
4. Ignored verbal warnings from the boss and continued the above substitutes for work

She kept saying she wanted to be hired full time, but sabatoged any chance of that even if there were not a hiring freeze on. She's young. I hope she learns.

I just spoke to my daughter-in-law, Donna, in Germany. She doesn't have an exact date yet for when Will is getting back there to the family, but thinks it may be around the beginning of May. She said that he was among the first group of Army personnel to go into the Baghdad Airport after the Marines had secured it. She said that it was a lot more than he was ready for and he is changing his plans to make the Army his career. She thinks he's still in Iraq, but may be moved back to Kuwait by mid-week. Very good news.

HOORAY! We finally heard from Will. It was just a short e-mail saying he is fine and will be home (back in Germany) soon, but it was so wonderful to have that much communication from him. What a wonderful Easter present!

I just got back from my annual mammogram. My mammogram technician is a 10-year breast cancer survivor, and has found her mission in life. She wanted to make absolutely sure of getting an accurate picture, which means LOTS of compression. This is the most painful one I remember having, but I suppose it's like birthdays. If one considers the alternative, one never complains about them. After the x-ray, I treated myself to a Belgian waffle smothered in strawberries, bananas and whipped cream at Tre Kroner

It was another beautiful, warm day today. A little too warm where I work, since the air conditioning was not functioning. We sweated in the still air in our little gray cubicles. Finally, our "facilities engineer" found us some fans to move some of the air, and the people from the Human Resource department passed out popsicles. I got a sky-blue one.

Chuck and Ben are off this week from work and school, respectively, and they spent the afternoon at the "friendly confines" of Wrigley Field watching the Cubs win. They got to see Sammy Sosa hit another home run, and I've already forgotten what else Chuck told me, but anyway they had a great time. They arrived home about the same time I came home from work, and I waved to them when I saw them getting off the bus at the end of our block. Public transportation is the best way to go. No parking worries, and you can't get much more convenient than having the bus stop three doors away.

We set a record here in Chicago today. The temperature got up to 85 degrees F. The previous record for this date of 83 or 84 was set in 1941. It's very low humidity today, too, which is unusual for this area, so close to Lake Michigan. It's a day that draws people outside like a magnet. I took a walk with a friend of mine at lunchtime, someone who doesn't usually enjoy walking, but we went much further than originally planned. I hope we have a few more days like this. It somehow doesn't seem like exercise when it's so pleasant.

The down side is my seasonal allergies. I was out of Claritin, so I had the itchy eyes, sneezes, etc. when I came back in. I went to WalMart after work and got my "fix". I wonder how it mixes with wine? Well, I guess I'll find out.

When I got in the car yesterday, I heard a song on WFMT that I recognized. I hadn’t heard it announced, and I had to dig back in my memory a bit to remember why I knew it. It was one of Franz Schubert’s “Songs Without Words” , but this particular one I remember from an arrangement that had words.

I was a member of Polyhymnia, a women’s chorus at Elmhurst College in 1969. Polyhymnia ("Poly") was named for one of the nine muses, and the chorus performed all their music from memory, most of it a cappella. It was Mrs. Viola Repp’s last year as our director before retirement, and we were preparing music for our last concert under her direction.

When we first started rehearsing “To Music” by Franz Schubert, everyone hated it. We couldn’t get a sense of how it was supposed to sound, and it seemed like nothing but a cacophony of strange, unrelated notes. We were on the point of rebellion regarding this piece, but Mrs. Repp would not be swayed. “This is my last year and my last concert, and you will sing this piece.”

There was nothing to do but dig in and learn it. Each section leader scheduled extra (required) sectional rehearsals outside of the regular five-day-a-week rehearsal time. As we mastered the notes, the dynamics began to fall into place and give the song shape. By the time we really had it, the piece had become one of our favorites.

Thou lovely art, how often in dark hours,
when life's tumult wraps me round,
have you kindled my heart to loving warmth,
transported me to a better world.

I got busted by the water police while at the Symphony last night. I had changed purses because my large black purse was big enough to accomodate a water bottle. Since I have a cold (feeling much better today, thanks), keeping my throat moist is absolutely necessary in order to avoid choking, coughing, and otherwise annoying other music lovers. I am normally very discreet about taking the occasional sip, and I never make any noise. However, during intermission we were standing up at our seats and Chuck was engaged in conversation with the gentleman seated behind us. As usual, I was just listening. I absent-mindedly took a swallow of water while standing up, facing backwards towards the lobby, in full view of Brünnhilde the Usher. She yelled "Ma'am!" twice before I realized that I was the object of her wrath. "Ma'am! You have to drink your bottled water out in the lobby!" I just said, "Sorry," and put the bottle back in my purse. I guess she didn't feel like making too much of an issue of it. Or maybe she didn't think she could manage the trek down to my row to drag me out.

We sit in the nosebleed seats, and one needs oxygen and climbing equipment in order to navigate the steep angle from the top row of the gallery down to Row E, where we sit. Which is why we stand at our seats during intermission rather than going out to the lobby. We've been sitting in these same seats since the 1996 season, and once we get there, the seats are just fine. I've finally gotten used to the sound of the orchestra being a bit behind the beat of the conductor. Light travels faster than sound, you know.

In September of last year, we did have the opportunity to hear the orchestra from a different perspective

Chuck carried some old doors that had been taking up space in the garage out to the front of the house for the garbage men to pick up yesterday. He claims that was my anniversary present. What a guy.

The Symphony was great. It's hard to bead Beethoven and Schumann. Even the modern piece they played in the beginning wasn't too bad.

It's been a really quick week. Finished our taxes on Friday evening, and my honesty in reporting Chuck's extra income resulted in us having to pay $40.00. Then after mailing them on Saturday, I got a statement from the life insurance company showing interest earned, which was not included. Too bad. I should have gotten that form at the end of January.

The Spaghetti Supper and Nickel Social was Saturday evening, and as usual ticket #1111 got lots of loot. No, it's not fixed. We buy a $100.00 package of 5-cent tickets every year, so we're bound to win something. One unusual thing was a "Quasar" pen, a ball point pen with a clear barrel that constantly changes colors as you write.

The rest of the week has been pretty typical. LCC rehearsal Monday, tap & jazz class Tuesday, Cabinet Meeting Wednesday, and tonight we go to the symphony. And I'm fighting a cold. Hopefully winning.

Today is our 32nd wedding anniversary. Chuck hasn't said anything about it yet.

Well, it's April. Time to do the taxes. I'm almost finished with the Federal, and at this point it looks like we'll get about $200.00 back. But I have to go back and put in an item of income I forgot about. Chuck gets a small monthly stipend from the church for directing the choir, and since he didn't get a 1099 for it, I forgot until he reminded me. Oh, yes, and I have to call the life insurance company today, because I didn't get a 1099-INT from them. I wonder if those two items are going to wipe out our refund?

It turned out I didn't have to make a decision, as it was made for me. I neither danced nor sang. I worked until 10:00 p.m. last night. George decided he wanted us to process another $200,000.00 in Journal Billing claims for the month of March, the last day of which was yesterday.

Today's big decision is whether to sing or dance tonight. My Tuesday night Tap & Jazz class has been moved to Monday night for this week only, the same night as Lutheran Choir of Chicago rehearsal. On the one hand, it's easier for me to learn to sing something than it is for me to learn a dance step. On the other hand, we can only have two absences from the rehearsals for this next concert, and I've already used up one the week I went to Martinique.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if all decisions were this inconsequential?

A nice young man from College Works Painting came by today to give us an estimate on the much-needed painting that needs to be done on the outside of the house. I had been considering getting aluminum soffit and fascia, but I really don't want to lose the scrollwork that gives our house character, so I'm going to go with painting it. He promised they would do a good job of the prep work, something that was lacking on the last paint job we had done. They will scrape, sand, and prime. And they will put on two coats of paint. Now all I have to do is figure out how to pay for it. Maybe I should do my taxes and see if I'm getting anything back this year.

Everything is relative. After spending several hours sorting, folding and hanging piles of clothing at the Rummage Sale yesterday, my own laundry doesn't seem like such an insurmountable task.

This is getting more and more expensive. The gas valve on the furnace is leaking and must be replaced, and also the circuit board. Well, the furnace is 17 years old and hasn't been looked at, as far as I know, in ten years, so I suppose it is due.

This reminds me of the skydiver joke. A guy jumps out of an airplane, and his chute won't open. As he's wondering what to do, he sees a guy coming up towards him. He yells, "Hey, do you know anything about parachutes?" The other guy yells, "No! Do you know anything about gas furnaces?"

Well, the guy was right on time, and already it's going to cost about $200.00 to replace some parts in the air conditioner. Oh, well, better to find out now than on the first 95 degree day.

It's a good thing I was home today, because Ziggy came by. Ziggy works for the company that replaced our driveway and sidewalks last year, and we had agreed last fall that he would do a small side job for us when he got a chance. He is Polish, and his English is very broken and hard to understand, so we communicate with a lot of gestures. He is very pleasant, though. He's going to start the job on Monday.

The dentist wasn't too bad yesterday. The whole process took about 20 minutes, most of which was spent waiting for the novacaine to take effect. In an effort to make sure I don't procrastinate for six years again, I made an appointment for September. Then I got to come home and try to eat take-out Chinese with one side of my face numb.

I'm taking a day off from work today, because the heating/air-conditioning guy is going to do a tune-up on our furnace and A/C, and then I might go and help Joanie with the Rummage Sale for awhile. This will be my first time doing that.

It looks like I'll be singing in the Good Friday service at Norwood Park Lutheran Church again this year. Their choir director called me the other night and said they were "buying sopranos". I didn't tell her I'd be glad to do it for free, because a little extra cash is always welcome.

Yesterday's mail brought Douglas's first issue of The Echo, our church newsletter. I had been publishing it for the last two years, and I'm really glad someone came forward to take it off my hands. Doug did a great job, and he seems to enjoy doing it.

I have a dentist appointment after work to take care of a cavity found two weeks ago at my first dental appointment in six years. I was really nervous after putting it off so long, and having to start with a new dentist. But he actually complimented me on the care I've been taking of my teeth without professional assistance. The cleaning wasn't so bad, but not nearly as much fun as when I used to get nitrous oxide. This guy is a real comedian. He said he was 28 years old. I said I didn't know how old he was, but he was older than 28. He said, "I have some very sharp instruments that I'm getting ready to put in your mouth. Now, how old do I look?"

I'm not sure a lot of people understand what war means. No, I haven't heard anything from my son. He is not in anyplace where he can communicate. In the unlikely event that he gets to a telephone, he wouldn't call me, he would call Donna, which is as it should be. If I haven't seen him on television or gotten a phone call to the contrary, I must assume he is ok. Certainly I must, for my own sanity.

Everybody is extremely nice to me. Loretta makes a point of coming to my desk every day to ask how I'm doing, and even George, Loretta's boss, checks up on me now and then. Last night at LCC rehearsal, Floyd told Lois about Will being over there somewhere, and Will was in our closing prayer.

I just spoke to Donna, my daughter-in-law, in Germany. She says she heard from Will about three weeks ago. She and the girls are doing fine. She impresses me with how level-headed she is. She doesn't turn on the television, which is just as well, because German television broadcast footage of our soldiers being shot in the head. She doesn't listen to what the other wives have to say. If she doesn't hear it from someone in uniform, she doesn't believe it. There are frequent meetings to keep the families informed, and she told me that if I hear anything that I think might have involved Will I should call and not worry about what time it is there, because the families would have already been told what happened and who it involved.

Friday night I ordered a service banner to display in our window to show that we have a loved one serving in the armed forces. We also ordered lapel pins. Chuck got the plain service flag pin, and I got the one that shows the American flag as well.

I had to work Saturday. It was a pretty boring thing to do on a beautiful Saturday, but all that time-and-a-half will be nice in my next paycheck.

Sunday was the Soup Luncheon at church after services. Someone please remind me to stick with the chicken soup next year and not put butter on the bread. I was miserable all afternoon. But at least I did get to take my first walk in the woods of the year. Jim and I went, and I took along the wide-angle binoculars he gave me for Christmas. They aren't as powerful as his, but I'm better able to actually spot what I want to look at. We saw a few cardinals and a song-sparrow.

Chuck made a great beef roast for dinner, and then we watched the Oscars. I was pleased that there were not a lot of political speeches and people seemed to confine their remarks to something like "let's pray for peace."

Back in October I mentioned that I got some bad news in a 3:00 a.m. phone call. My husband instructed me NOT to talk about it on the Internet, and I have complied. But now that prohibition has been lifted. My son Will has been in Kuwait since October, and we haven't heard from him since Christmas.

Oh, joy. I just sat through an hour of "harassment in the workplace" training. I really resent being required to be trained in courtesy and common sense.

I exercised amazing restraint at the Scout Auction yesterday. My portion of our bill was only 13.00-----10.00 for a set of very pretty etched wineglasses and 3.00 for a 50's style formica "boomerang" table for the basement. It's called that because of its shape.

Chuck was allowed to place the winning bid on the ceramic puma (see my description of the auction of a year ago for an explanation). This year it brought $510.00.

Well, it's official! I've been blogging for one year as of yesterday!

Someone at the Church Cabinet meeting last night asked if the newsletter could come out on a more regular basis. A legitimate question, I suppose, but it really upset me. First of all, publishing the newsletter isn't in the job description of the Church Clerk, and I never would have agreed to be Church Clerk if I had thought it were. I have, however, ended up doing the newsletter anyway for the last three years because our church secretary is computer-phobic. In most other churches I know of, it is the paid church secretary, not the volunteer Church Clerk who is responsible for publishing the newsletter.

In response to the question, I said that nobody had given me anything to put in the newsletter. Granted, there are lots of events coming up in the near future of which I am fully aware. But why should I have to compose all the articles in addition to putting the thing together? I said I was really ready to give the job up.

At that point one of the newer members of the church, a high school student who is really into computers, volunteered to take on the responsibility. What a load off my shoulders. I hope he meets with a little more cooperation than I have.

Boy, time sure flies. So, what have I been doing for the last week? Saturday, March 1 we hosted a "Christmas Party" for Lutheran Choir of Chicago. (Nobody had any time around Christmas, they finally settled on a date that was before the beginning of Lent, and when they needed a place to have it Chuck volunteered our house). The house was in pretty good shape, thanks to the FLYLady system that I've been using ever since Chuck made me fire the cleaning service. But it's still amazing how much time I can spend nit-picking to make it look just a little better. And really, by the time you get so many people in the house nobody notices anyway. It turned out to be a pretty good party, but not as many of the new people showed up as we had hoped.

Sunday, March 2 was the first day for our new minister at church. Of course there was an extended coffee hour that included extra snacks like chicken nuggets, mini egg-rolls, veggie tray, etc. It seems that eating is what our church does best. It is nice to have a permanent full-time minister again, after 2-1/2 years.

Things have been pretty uneventful at work, except for the error I found in our chargeback letters. Even after all the testing and checking they did before the new system was implemented, they missed the fact that the line on the chargeback letter that should read "Quantity not Satisfied" actually read "Quality not Satisfied". I e-mailed the pertinent people, and pointed out that while we may indeed have some quality issues, that is the responsibility of another department. That error was fixed the same day I pointed it out.

I've been working on the pictures from my vacation in Martinique, making a sort of scrapbook in Adobe PageMaker. Since I now have a digital camera and didn't have to worry about the cost of film and developing, I took a lot of pictures. And surprisingly, there aren't that many throw-aways. I'll eventually find a way to share some of them with my vast readership. I've been having trouble uploading them to my aol homepage, and I haven't gotten around to upgrading to the Blogger service that gives you space for that sort of thing.

As I mentioned before, Henry does the cooking. Actually, he is something of a gourmet cook. He is very much like Chuck in that the better the meal, the more dishes there are to wash later. After a wonderful meal of fresh tuna with a Creole sauce, Henry suggested that Jim and I could use the dishwasher for whatever dishes it would hold, rather than wash all of them by hand. He had used it last year, but not yet this year. We loaded the dishwasher, hand-washed what didn’t fit in it, and started it up. While we were having our after-dinner drink of St. James rum, the lights went out. We re-set the circuit breaker, and the lights went out again. We determined that the culprit was the dishwasher, so we un-loaded it and washed the dishes by hand.

The next morning Jim and I accompanied Henry on a trip to the produce market and the Carrefours Supermarket (like the Jewel-Osco here, but with wider aisles). Marty decided to stay home and work on her book, and while we were gone M. Andre, the landlord, paid a visit. Marty explained that the dishwasher was mort, and M .Andre decided that the best thing would be to let it finish its cycle. Since there were no lights on in the lower part of the house, turning the machine on didn’t trip the circuit breaker. So, the dishwasher was running, M. Andre left, and Marty went back upstairs to work.

When we returned from our shopping expedition, the entire first floor of the house was flooded. Marty, of course, had no idea this was happening, and was extremely apologetic. The four of us got to work with squeegees, brooms, and mops. Jim and Henry dragged the sopping area rug out of the livingroom and placed it over two benches to dry under the overhang of the patio.

It was a short-lived disaster. Once the water was pushed out of the house, Henry made a lovely plate of crudités (including avocado wedges and some shredded papaya---unripe papaya is used in salads), and after lunch we took off for the beach and more snorkeling

I was disappointed in the fruit at the supermarket today. The apples were soft, the pears were hard, and the bananas were green. It was such a contrast to Martinique, where one goes to the open-air market every day for perfectly ripe fresh produce. Henry does the cooking in his and Marty’s household, as Chuck does in ours. Every day while I was there he fixed a healthy breakfast consisting of a banana, a wedge of melon and pineapple, whole grain toast, and café au lait. Also at each person’s place was a four-ounce container of Dannon Natural, plain yogurt—no fruit. I can’t find those little containers anywhere here.

I spotted it first below a collapsed fish trap. I raised my head to see who was closest, and I got Marty’s attention. “Turtle!” I said, and pointed downward. She glided over to where I was and we both put our faces back down into the warm water and watched the sea turtle swim out from under the trap only to hide in a crevice beneath a rock.

This was my sixth snorkeling foray that week, and the second that day. I had heard from Jim how much Marty and Henry loved to snorkel, and I remembered with some trepidation my only attempt at it on the cruise we took in 2000. We were on an excursion from St. Thomas to Trunk Bay on St. John, a truly beautiful beach. I was ready to try snorkeling, I really was. But then there were all these cautions—“Don’t touch the yellow discolorations on the rocks…..once you’re out there, don’t stand up….”. And I was required to wear a flotation device which didn’t seem to want to inflate properly. I had my own snorkel and mask, but didn’t really know how to use them, and I paid to rent some ill-fitting fins, which I had trouble getting on my feet. I finally gave up and told my companions to go on. I stayed near the shore and just enjoyed splashing around in the water, wondering what I was missing. Well, now I know.

Marty is Jim’s sister, and she and her husband Henry live in southwest France. Jim and I visited them there in October of 2001 (don’t bother searching the archives for an account of the trip---this blog didn’t begin until March of 2002). In France they live in a 200 year old stone cottage heated only by a wood-burning stove, so in the winter they go to Martinique. Henry is a retired farmer from California, and Marty has a PHD in Sociology, but her real talent is for writing romance novels. She hasn’t been published yet, but I’m sure that once the first novel is published she’ll have no trouble selling whatever she submits. I have had the privilege of reading two of Marty’s manuscripts and a few chapters of the book she is working on now.

I was determined that I was not going to chicken out at snorkeling like I did on my first attempt. The three-bedroom gite that Marty and Henry rent every year has an above-ground swimming pool. The day we arrived, I had time to practice in the pool. Breathing with one’s face in the water is really an unnatural act, and it takes a little while to get used to. That practice session really helped, as did the planter’s punch Henry served, because the next day when we went snorkeling for real I was able to keep up with everyone else, and a whole new world was open for me to see.

It sure seems cold here after spending a week in Martinique where the temperature never drops below 65. And what's that white stuff on the ground here?

So, where, at my mature age, do these maternal feelings come from? Ben mentioned that his pants were torn and had some holes, and I immediately took him out and bought him a pair of shoes, two pair of jeans, and a pair of dress pants. Because he is an "almost" adult, he is now wondering how to pay me back out of his meager part-time paycheck. I told him not to worry. That's why he gives us a set amount each week, so when he needs something it won't be a hardship for us to provide it.

I really like having Ben here. I was sort of cheated out of enjoying the fruits of my labors with Will, since he decided at a very young age that he had to "get on with his life", so he dropped out of school, got a job, and lived on his own. By the time he realized he needed to be responsible in order to get along in the world, he was being responsible for someone else. That's ok. I'll get it back from him later. When I'm 95, I'll probably make his life hell. He'll never know where I am, because I'll forget to tell him I decided to go somewhere for the day. I won't answer my phone if I don't feel like talking to anybody and he'll think I've fallen and I can't get up. Of course, by that time I'll probably be having my great-grandchildren living with me.

Two Things That Weren't My Fault (entirely)

Sunday Chuck and I sang in a Lutheran Choir of Chicago concert in Crystal Lake, IL. It was a really good program which included some spirituals, some Baroque music and some more modern things. A good portion of the program was music we were familiar with, but there were a few new things. But of all the things we could worry about, our signature song, Beautiful Savior arranged by F. Melius Christiansen, was the last thing anyone would think could go wrong. But it did. Embarassingly so. I was afraid it was my fault, because this is my first concert singing first soprano instead of second. When I heard the pitch, I tried to find my beginning note and failed miserably. Unfortunately, so did the rest of the first sopranos. We were at a loss for almost the entire first page of the piece. This is a song we know well, and have done at almost every concert for the 55 plus years we have been in existance. After the concert, as we were changing out of our choir robes, our director asked all the first sopranos to raise their hands. I thought, we're in for it now. Then he said, "It wasn't your fault. We were given the wrong starting pitch."

The other thing was at work today. I'm still being trained for my job, and don't really know enough about it to recognize a wrong instruction. It's just lucky I had to ask a question about something, or Sheila would never have realized that what she told me originally was wrong. I spent the whole day going over and correcting work I had done on Friday. But I think I'll always remember which figure to use in this particular computation.

Well, my company, at least my part of the company, is up and running on the new system. It was pretty smooth, compared with some conversions I've been through. The major problem was that nobody could print anything at first on Monday morning, but that was sorted out by the afternoon. Other sections of the company are due to convert to this system in August. There will probably be a major reorganization then because instead of being several small companies dealing with the same customers separately, we will be one big happy family.

As a result of the conversion Frank was permanently laid off. His job became, as the British say, "redundant". His main duty had been to print and distribute large reports. With the new system, everyone will be doing their own reports at their own location. I'll miss him, even though I didn't usually have much contact with him. He was kind of a gloomy guy, and I used to tease him by calling him "Mr. Sunshine". Before she died, Frank's wife worked in the same beauty shop I go to, and Julie, my beauty operator, says that Pam taught her a lot of what she knows about doing hair. Frank will be ok, though. He still has money from a large settlement he got when Pam was hit by a car. She did recover from the injuries she received in that accident, but later succumbed to cancer.

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. ----Albert Einstien

No matter how many times we watch it, the result will be the same.

I managed to get through the blood test without passing out from malnutrition. But I was beginning to wonder if I actually had any blood. The doctor stuck me in both hands, and was unsuccessful each time. I was too cold, and all my veins were constricted. He brought me a warm blanket and made me sit there wrapped up in it for about ten minutes, and he finally managed to get the blood out of my arm.

I guess it was worth it, though. Here are my numbers: Total Cholesterol: 183 (should be below 200); Triglycerides: 62 (should be below 150); HDL: 66 (should be more than 39); LDL: 105 (should be less than 130); Cholesterol/HDL Ratio: 2.8 (should be less than 4.4)

Gotta go for a blood test today, which means no coffee or food until after. I'm starving. How will I ever make it to 10:00 a.m.?

If winter is here, can spring be far behind?

I stayed home from work yesterday. I’m not sure what it was I ate Sunday evening that disagreed with me, chicken hot wings, shrimp, sloppy joes, chips ‘n’ dip, wheat thins and Price’s spread, or the combination of all of the above. Anyway, since my desk at work is about a mile away from the bathrooms, I deemed it prudent to stay home.

My enjoyment of Oprah, who was talking with the author of “What Should I Do With My Life?”, was interrupted by Peter Jennings and a Special Report. I got to listen to Mr. Blix give his report on the UN weapons inspections in Iraq. In general, I got the feeling there was less cooperation than there should have been, but Mr. Blix was tap-dancing around the issue a bit. I guess he didn’t want to be the one to say plainly that the Iraqis are lying and hiding weapons of mass destruction. One must think of one’s place in history.

Speaking of tap-dancing, I think I’ll skip dance class tonight. The weather report calls for rain, sleet, snow, and falling temperatures. It will be a good night to stay home and watch President Bush’s State of the Union Address.

Overheard last week: "Bob says he doesn't read the newspaper. I would be so embarassed to say that."

I knew it was none of my business, but I felt the need to defend myself, as well as Bob, so I turned around and said, "I don't read the paper, either."

Maybe that's not entirely accurate. I sometimes read selected parts of the Chicago Tribune. We used to have the paper delivered seven days a week, until I started to feel guilty about all those dead trees, not to mention my aching back from lifting the heavy bag of recycleable paper high enough to deposit it in the trash bin. I really wasn't reading the paper. I decided to compromise and take the paper three days a week: Wednesday (for the food ads and Good Eating section), Friday (for the movie and theatre listings in case I decide to do something fun on the weekend), and Sunday (for the Arts and Entertainment section, the Book section, the crossword puzzle in the Chicago Tribune Magazine, and just in case I have a truly lazy Sunday and have the leisure to browse other sections).

I'm sure I went way down in the estimation of the woman who made the comment, but I'll just have to live with my shame. To put it into perspective, the woman who said anyone who admitted to not reading the paper should be embarassed does not work and, as far as I know, is not part of any organizations outside of the church choir and The Guild, a group at the church that meets once a month and holds two rummage sales and a Holiday Bazaar each year. She lives with her daughter, who does the work of maintaining her home. She just may have the time to read the newspaper every day.

I work 40 hours per week, sing with Lutheran Choir of Chicago, take a Tap & Jazz class on Tuesday evenings, hold the position of Church Clerk, edit and publish the church newsletter, attend 10 Chicago Symphony concerts per season, perform in one play per year with Trinity Players, and keep the house clean and the laundry done. And, oh, yes.....I blog. Just what gives this woman the right to act so superior? And why does it even matter to me what she or anyone else thinks of me for admitting to not reading the paper? Well, it really doesn't matter, but it did give me something to write about.

Why do I blog? About a year ago I started getting interested in trying to do some creative writing. In hopes of becoming inspired, I started frequenting Soul Food Cafe where I learned about Blogger. One day when I was home from work waiting all day for a new water heater to be installed (with w-a-a-a-y-y-y too much time on my hands), I decided to go to Blogspot and create my own blog. While I can't say I've written any stories or very many poems in the last year, I have managed to post to my weblog on a regular basis. At least I'm writing something, even if it isn't very much. And I've learned a little about html and some other geeky things. And my children, who are now scattered to the four corners of the universe, are able to follow my antics in some semblance of "real time". I don't have a large readership, but there are a few folks who do stop by on a regular basis. Most of them are half a world away, but I'm beginning to feel as though I am a part of their lives, as they are a part of mine. I may have mentioned this before, but I will say again that this is the longest I have maintained a personal journal. That, in itself, is reason enough for me to continue.

I've always suspected that chocolate was necessary for life. Now it's been clinically proven. Chocolate is good for you.

He and I were born on the same day of the year, January 15, even if his day is being celebrated today. Live the Dream

I remember typewriters. Manual ones that required a good deal of pressure to get a clear letter from each strike. The kind that had a bell signaling five spaces from the right-hand margin and a large silver lever for the carriage return. That’s the kind of typewriter I practiced on when I was learning to type when I was 12 years old. I learned to type by taking a book out of the library and repeating, repeating, repeating the exercises. It really does work, just the way it says it will in the book. I’m not sure what my speed is right now, but it’s always been adequate for any job I’ve had.

I’ve been through white-out, electric typewriters with correction ribbon, word processors, and several generations of computers.

I’m just really thankful right now for my computer. I have a very important letter on which I have had to make some minor changes. It’s only a two page letter, but it’s pretty much solid words for most of it. I am so very happy to be able to have made these changes quickly and easily. I remember all too well the day when I would have had to re-type the entire thing.

I’m really happy to be finally sending this Letter of Call for our church’s new pastor.

Today was the church Annual Meeting, and I'm so glad it's over. I curled up in a ball for about an hour after I got home. It isn't that there was anything really controversial at the meeting. It was all pretty routine. I just hate being up in front of the entire congregation acting official, like I really know what I'm doing. I'm sure I'll be found out someday, but it hasn't happened in the last four years. Maybe everyone else is just as clueless as I am.

My A: drive has ceased to function, which sent me out to CompUSA yesterday to scout out the possibility of purchasing a new computer. When I came home, thoroughly confused, I went the the Compaq website and "built" my dream computer. Only $2,700.00. Of course, if I also get the full Adobe Publishing package that will boost it up by another thousand. If you're going to dream, dream big. I suppose I should take this little laptop back to the store and see if they can replace the A: drive. I'm sure it would be cheaper, but not nearly as much fun.

Scratch that about having to work tomorrow. Business is bad and overtime is a thing of the past. At least until the next crisis. I wonder what will happen when the new system goes up on 2/2?

Happy birthday to me! Today I'm 53. No HUGE fanfare today. Chuck put flowers on the altar at church on Sunday in honor of my birthday, and he got me (actually us) the complete DVD set of Sports Night, all two seasons, a show that fell victim to poor placement and low intelligence on the part of the viewing audience. When it was on, it was the only show I watched, as West Wing is the only one I watch now. I was constantly amazed by the witty banter, and wished I could think half that fast.

Chuck is preparing a delicious "surf 'n' turf" dinner, even as I write. My friend and lunch partner at work, Sue, gave me a lovely butterfly pin (I have more than a dozen), and we're going out to lunch tomorrow. My friend Dawn, another co-worker, will take me out to lunch next week. Hmmm---let's see how long I can stretch this out. Amazingly enough, we don't have any plans for the weekend (other than me working on Saturday and the Congregational Meeting after church on Sunday). I wonder if we could go out to dinner Saturday evening....

I had a dream last night that Will called and said, "Hi, Mom!" That's all. No further conversation. Was he just letting me know he's fine? I hope so. Will, if you get a chance to read this, leave a comment, please. Love you. Mom.

Yesterday in the mail I got a package containing a VHS of the movie Stray Dogs. A few years ago I was in Trinity Players' production of The Secret Garden, and the young man who played the role of Colin in that show is an aspiring actor. He was in a production of the stageplay Stray Dogs, and his mother bought the rights to the stageplay and decided to produce a film of it with Zach as the little boy in the story. I invested in the production at the lowest possible level, fully aware of the fact that I may never again see my principle, let alone any profits. I did, however, get screen credit as one of the investors.

If anyone is interested in this film, or in helping me at least break even on my investment, the film is available here.

Today was a very good day. Our church called a new minister at a congregational meeting today. We met him at a "meet and greet" party last night at Don & Cor's house. I think he'll be a good leader for our church.

After a very busy week, we were finally able to take down our (live) tree today, and guess what? I've been very faithful about watering it, and it hadn't dropped very many needles, and as were were un-decorating it, I noticed that some of the branches had NEW GROWTH!