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Get brain-freeze for free in honor of today's date. (A free Slurpee at 7-11, in case this link doesn't work after today.)

Will FINALLY sent me a picture of my newest granddaughter, Heather Jean.

Rehearsals for Finian's Rainbow have started. I'm in the chorus, as I figured I would be, and Chuck has the role of the obnoxious sheriff. I had really big roles two years in a row: Rosemary in Picnic in 2000 and Julia in Lend Me a Tenor last year. So I'm happy to sing in the chorus and take the occasional throw-away line not assigned to a regular character this year. So far I have one line, spoken when the needed money to save the Mahoney's land from being sold for back taxes drifts down from a tree: "It's a windfall!" I was in the chorus of this musical when Elmhurst College did it in 1967. It's amazing how well I still remember the words and music after all this time.

Everyone in the Chicagoland area, mark your calendars! Six performances only! Sept. 13, 14, 20, & 21 at 8:00 p.m. and Sept. 15 & 22 at 2:00 p.m. Address: Trinity Lutheran Church, 5106 N. LaCrosse Ave., Chicago, IL. Phone for more details: (773) 736-1457.

I read an interview with Tom Hanks about his new movie, The Road to Perdition, which was filmed here in Chicago. I feel I have a connection with this movie, because when I was still working at the auction, they were selling off items that were used on the set. A lot of 30's style light fixtures, as I remember. Direct Auction is owned by some members of my church, and I worked there every other Tuesday evening when they had the antique auctions, doing data entry. It was fun and interesting, but after 5 years getting home past midnight and getting up at six for my real job got a bit wearing.

Chuck and I were both off from work on Friday, and we found out that a young man from our church was going to play piano at the Taste of Chicago, so we went again! It was a bit cooler than last Friday, but plenty hot in the sun. Max was very poised, and I didn't hear any mistakes.

After Max's performance, we took the free trolley to Navy Pier again (does this sound like something we did just a week ago?). This time we went for a 90 minute ride on the four-masted schooner Windy, which was what Chuck wanted to do last week, but we couldn't because the 3:00 p.m. sailing was for a private charter that day. It was a perfect day for sailing. I got to help raise the jib sail (that's the little one at the front of the boat) and Chuck helped raise the foresail. I'm glad I'm not prone to motion sickness; I think a few of the passengers were not enjoying the ride as much as I was. I found the ride quite exhilerating.

Diana and Rick came over with the four little ones on the 4th. We had gotten an inflatable pool for the kids to cool off in. Diana and I got in, too. The water was pretty cold, but the kids didn't seem to mind. Alex almost looked like he was really swimming. I wore the new swimsuit I got that morning at Outdoor World. Their clothes are pretty pricey, but it's so rare for me to find a swimsuit I like.

Jim was over, too, and when it got dark he got out the illegal fireworks that had been sitting in the guest room closet since the end of November. Jim's folks live in North Carolina, and when he goes to visit them, he drives through several states where you can buy really good fireworks. They shot off some bottle rockets and firecrackers in the back yard, and then we went down to the school park so we could share the bigger stuff with the folks that had gathered to see what they could of the Niles fireworks display and to shoot off their own illegal fireworks. I don't think the law against fireworks is very strictly enforced.

Being very sensible people, we watched the July 3 Grant Park fireworks display on television in air-conditioned comfort, while listening to the simulcast of the Grant Park Symphony Orchestra on WFMT radio. James Paul, the director of the Orchestra was heard bemoaning the fact that he is the only person who doesn't get to see the fireworks. He has his back to the action while he directs. He has headphones on and has to direct the orchestra to play as he hears the pre-recorded music, because it is timed to the explosions.

There was an arial shot of the sea of humanity spread out all over the park. We went to the Taste of Chicago and the fireworks on July 3 once, in 1991, the year of Desert Storm and also the year Chuck retired from the Air Force and we moved back home to Chicago. Once was enough. The problem is not so much the crowds when you are there. Everyone is usually fairly polite. The problem is getting home. People have been arriving at the park over the course of many hours, but when the event is over, everyone has to leave at once, and there is a great crush of people walking. The time we went, I was actually afraid the bridge would collapse when some idiot decided to start everyone doing the "bunny hop" while trying to exit the park. Even though the City operates extra rapid transit trains and buses, there is no good way to handle that many people. We ended up bypassing the subway, where the line stretched up the steps, down the block and around the corner, and walked several more blocks to Union Station and got a Metra train back to our neighborhood. We still had a mile to walk from the train station to get home, but it was a nice night, and at least we didn't have to stand in line.

Well, I guess we've finally arrived in the 21st century. We went out yesterday and got new cell phones that have all these incredible features like voice dialing, voice mail, text messaging, call forwarding, conference calling, and hands free operation. You can choose from among 35 ring tones, and you can assign a different ring to each caller. The phones are Nokia, and the plan is from VoiceStream. Chuck did all kinds of research, but I think the deciding factor for him was that Jamie Lee Curtis is the spokesperson for VoiceStream.

Nokia is made in Finland. I remember being in Helsinki in 1998 on the first international LCC tour. That was before cell phones really caught on here in the states. It seemed so strange to see everyone walking around with a cell phone to their ear. Nokia was giving away free cell phones for everyone's birthday.

I love being a tourist in my own home town! All the fun and none of the uncertainties of travel. I took a vacation day yesterday (Chuck was off anyway--summer school doesn't start for him until Monday), and had a real date day with my husband. We went down to the Taste of Chicago and got there a little after it opened. It's the best experience I've had there. We got there before it was so crowded you couldn't move, the weather was perfect. I had all "taste" portions. Some of the things I ate were crawfish tails, chocolate dipped strawberries, rangoon crab, tempura vegetables, barbequed pork sandwiches. I stayed away from pizza and burgers, stuff I can have any time.

After I'd sampled everything I wanted, Chuck hung around the Taste for about an hour while I ducked into The Art Institute to see the Gerhard Richter exhibit. Then we took the free trolley over to Navy Pier and went for a speedboat ride on Lake Michigan.

Unfortunately, we had to go to a wake in the early evening. My sister-in-law Barbara's (Chuck's brother's wife) mother passed away. She was 81 and had Alzheimer's, but was otherwise in perfect health right up until she died. At least no apparent problems.

After discharging that bit of familial duty, we went to Sabatino's for dinner, and spent a little while at the piano bar where our friend Richard, who sings in LCC with us, was entertaining. Before we left, we sang the duet from The Music Man (Lida Rose/Dream of Now). All in all, except for the dead person, it was a perfect day.

Well, it's happening again. The thing that always happens at every job I've ever had. It's the thing about being everybody's best backup. Denise, my immediate supervisor, between me and Loretta my real boss, is going on vacation. And guess who will be doing her end-of-month reporting on Monday? Yours truly. Loretta doesn't know how to download queries from the system, and I do it all the time, so it's just a matter of running a query, downloading, formatting, and massaging the information a little bit. I think I can manage it.

This isn't so bad, but at the last banking job I had I feel they really took unfair advantage of my trainability. I ended up being the backup for the Wire Transfer and Money Desk. A very stressful and exacting job. And for such a pitiful wage.

At the job I had before this, at Sabratek which went bankrupt, they hired an unneeded middle manager who didn't have a clue. I had to train him, and then he evaluated me. I just don't get it.

Hooray! I got rid of the black toilet! This lovely item magically appeared on my front lawn on my 50th birthday, and it's been taking up space in my garage for the last two and a half years. Last night Don and Corinne picked us up and we rode out to Lynne's house and put it on her lawn. Her 50th birthday was two weeks ago, but she and her family have been on vacation, and they're due back today. Other decorations included black balloons, buzzards, and a sign with pictures of the birthday girl at various stages of her life. Now she gets to keep the toilet until someone else's significant birthday. What would we do without our traditions?

It was a very calm day at work until mid-afternoon, when Loretta, my boss, told us that the folding machine in the mail room had been broken for a week and no invoices had been mailed out since June 14! I quickly ran a report of invoices for all my customers from that date on, and spent the rest of the afternoon phoning and faxing. Loretta said she found out by accident. I wonder if they ever planned on telling us. Word is that everything will go out tomorrow, but it'll still take a few days for the customer to receive the invoices. I think I'll just continue to fax, just to be on the safe side. At least when the DSO month for next month goes through the roof, we'll have an explanation.

John Travolta is building a home in Darien, one of the southwest suburbs of Chicago, next to a private airport. The house will be across a pond from Bob, who I eat lunch with at work. I wonder if Mr. Travolta will keep totally to himself, or if he'll be friendly with his neighbors. Maybe he'll only be there once in awhile anyway.

Chuck had today off, and spent part of it investigating the dishwasher situation. It appears that our portable dishwasher has sprung a leak. It could be fixed, perhaps, but then we would still have a dishwasher that is way older than average. We got this one when Diana was a sophomore in high school. She turned 29 on May 30. You do the math. It just seems like we're going through a series of very expensive replacements this year. Anyway, Chuck determined that the best dishwasher for us is at Sears, and is due to go on sale on Sunday. Because he is a very wise man he will not make a commitment until I give it my blessing, so he's going to take me there and show it to me. That's the relatively cheap problem.

The more expensive problem involves concrete work in the front of the house, the driveway, and along the side where the lilacs grow. I'm having the guy who is doing my next door neighbor's stuff estimate ours. I have a feeling it will be somewhere between Ouch! and Boiiing! (I cannot take credit for that last sentence. See "White Christmas" with Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby.)

I got my hair cut yesterday, and did a most unusual thing. I made an appointment for my next haircut before I left the shop! Afterwards, I stopped by the "Jeff Fest", Jefferson Park's neighborhood festival, which had just opened. I bought a pendant and some earrings. I don't know what the stone is called, but it changes color, depending on the light. It's mostly blue-green. I had a half-slab of ribs from the Gale Street Inn booth, and then went home to laze about in the air conditioning.

Played hookey from church today and got Jim to help me with some yard work. He's a maniac when you get the electric hedge trimmers in his hands! We have lilac bushes along the side of the house, and I think even with the gutters is about the right height for them. He cut about a foot off the top. Then there's some other sort of hedge starting at the end of the patio and proceeding along the back between Charlies house and ours. Honeysuckle is part of it, but I think there's something else growing in there, too. At one point, I know there is elderberry, which we have to keep cutting back each year. I'm totally ashamed of the side of the house. Before we built the addition, there was a shed there, but it had to be knocked down in order to get the diggers to the back of the house. It was never rebuilt, and therefore, we never pay much attention to that area. As a consequence, it is nothing but a jungle. I'm hoping that next week Jim will bring his chainsaw and we can attack some of the "volunteer" trees that are growing there.

I loved Galileo Galilei! Great staging, wonderful voices, and an engaging story. It starts with Galileo as an old, blind man sitting beside his telescope. Quite poignant. Then it progresses backward through his life. The opera had the added appeal that I know someone in the cast. Zach, the young man who played the child Galileo towards the end of the work, portrayed Colin in Trinity Players' production of The Secret Garden a few years ago. Chuck and I were both in that play. Zach was also in the movie Stray Dogs, which was produced by his mother and in which I invested. I even got screen credit. Don't know if I'll ever get anything out of it, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Leno's Headlines. Very funny.

Today is the Summer Solstice. Time to sing one of the alternative verses to "That Old Time Religion":

Let us worship with the Druids
Drinking strange fermented fluids
Running naked through the wuids
It's good enough for me.

I've discovered a very interesting site called Fitday. It allows one to track calories consumed and burned, as well as nutritional requirements. It makes journaling a lot easier, for those who use that tool when attempting to eat healthy. (I try not to use the "D" word)

I'm going to the Goodman Theatre this evening to see Galileo Galilei, a new opera by Philip Glass "before it goes to Broadway". I hope it isn't too depressing like the other two things I saw at the Goodman this year.

My friend Jim's sister Marti is an aspiring novelist. She's written several manuscripts, but hasn't yet connected with an agent to get them sold. When we were visiting Marti and her husband Henry last October at thier home in the south of France, I was priviledged to read one of Marti's manuscripts entitled "The Keeper of the Castle". She actually incorporated some of my suggestions in her next draft! I now have the honor of reading another of her manuscripts called "Portuguese Eyes", and it promises to be very enjoyable. It's really exciting to me that someone is interested in my opinion of their work.

Yesterday's mail brought a statement from a credit card that I haven't used in years. It showed a credit balance of $2,700.00. It said "***No Payment Required*** Your account has a credit balance. You may use it to offset future purchases or you may call Customer Service for a refund." Well, I can think of many ways to use a windfall of $2,700.00. We need work done on the outside of the house, either painting or putting up more durable soffit & fascia. We could get all new walkways and driveways like our next-door neighbor is getting. The main bathroom needs re-papering. I could use a digital camera.

But, unfortunately, I am an honest person. Not to mention the fact that I worked in banks long enough to know that it would only be a matter of time before the mistake was discovered. So I called the Customer Service number and told them that this payment had been credited to the wrong account. They kept me on hold for several minutes and came back and asked me if I knew somebody named "Meggie Something". No, I didn't. Then they put me on hold for several more minutes, came back and thanked me for my honesty, told me my account would be adjusted within 14 days and assured me that the person whose payment it really was would not incur a late fee.

Ah, well, I suppose things like that are tests.

We just got back from auditions for Finian's Rainbow. Yes, I know, I said I wasn't going to auditon, because I know Floyd would let me sing in the chorus anyway, and there's no part for an overweight 52 year old woman this year. But Chuck decided to audition this year, so I went along, totally unprepared. No music. I sang "Where Is Love" from Oliver! a cappella, and instead of a memorized monologue I read the poem I wrote. It wasn't so bad. My pantomime was being an amoeba engulfing another life form, and the thing I had to say three different ways was "I bet you can't guess what color I'm wearing underneath!" The worst thing for me was the dancing. I felt like I was falling over, I couldn't balance, and I'm sure I started off on the wrong leg each time.

I think I need to join Joanie's dance class to help me learn how to move. I went with Janet and her daughter Laura to see Joanie, the church secretary, in a dance receital Saturday afternoon at the Lane Tech auditorium. It was the dance teacher's 50th anniversary receital, and I couldn't believe how many dancers there were, of all ages and sizes!

I especially wanted to go because Joanie always comes to my LCC concerts and the plays that I'm in. I knew better than to ask Chuck to go with me to the receital, though. I had dragged him with me to Light Opera Works to see Gypsy Love on Friday night, and it didn't end until 11:00 p.m. It was a good production, as always, but I really prefer Franz Lehár's The Merry Widow, which they did a few years ago.

Today is the 225th birthday of the American Flag. For anyone who's interested, the link to info about the American Flag also contains information about the flag of the City of Chicago.

It's also my sister-in-law's 44th birthday. Chuck plans to get Janis a magnum of champagne. Get it? (Feel lucky, punk?).

In 1992 my daughter married her first husband on this date. The following year there was a major fire at Chuck's Dad's house on June 14. Janis lived on the second floor, and when she came home from work she was greeted by Duke, sitting in his car in front of the burning house, with fire trucks all around. He asked her what she wanted for her birthday dinner. "How about barbeque?" she replied.

I always wonder what's in store on this date.

Cheops' (builder of the Great Pyramids) Law at work. Nothing is ever done on time or within budget. At last night's Church Cabinet meeting, I found out that we finally have the city permits to begin the work of repairing the cupola and replacing the cross. But now the structural engineer will not certify that the portico roof will support the scaffolding. Therefore, two scaffolding towers must be built, with an I-beam between them so that nothing will actually rest on the portico roof. That will satisfy the structural engineer, but of course it will cost an extra $5,587.00.

Here's some background. Several years ago, during a late spring ice storm, the cross on the top of our huge old colonial style church building fell off. After a long time, we finally found someone to construct a new cross, and work was begun to replace it. The company that was preparing the cupola to receive the new cross started a fire, which thanks to a very bright nine-year old boy in the neighborhood was contained to the cupola. After interminable haggling with insurance companies and contractors and engineers, we got a settlement from the insurance company of the people who started the fire. It won't cover the entire cost, but we're hoping to get some more money from our own insurance company.

We're currently in the process of searching for a new minister. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could install the new minister and dedicate the new cross at the same time? I wonder which will happen first. Any bets?

I’m keeping the front yard looking pretty good, and I’m beginning to move on to the backyard. There are tall weeds and thistles growing up around the three rose bushes I planted last year, but the bushes are alive and the roses are blooming! My next-door neighbor has thistle seeds in a bird feeder to attract goldfinches, but the byproduct of that is the fact that I need a pair of heavy gloves before I can clean up my rose garden. I began cleaning up the square flowerbed made from railroad ties that used to have a birdbath in it until last winter when it broke. I took cuttings from a “live-forever” and stuck one in each of the four corners. I’ll try to get some more perennials to plant there.

Yesterday afternoon, before we left for the anniversary party, our nephew Micah dropped by. He's 18 years old, I think, and attending Roosevelt University. He was videotaping in the forest preserve for a class until his battery ran out, so he stopped in to get something to drink and say hello. I'm glad Chuck answered the door, because I hardly ever see his brother's kids, and I might not have recognized him. We got to talking, and I discovered that he has been involved in a theater group that makes original plays out of the personal stories of members of the group. How creative! I gave him a copy of the audition notice for Finian's Rainbow. He might not be able to take part in it, though, because he has a full scholarship to a school in Minnesota for next year. (He told me which one, but I forgot.)

We were woken up by Will calling from Germany, and it was just as well he woke us up, since it was already after 8:00 a.m. We were both really tired after an exhausting day yesterday. Will didn’t have much news, except that he had shaved his head and he’s hoping to submit his packet for Warrant Officer School by August 1, in which case he’ll be back stateside before Christmas. I still don’t have any pictures of my newest granddaughter, but he PROMISED to shoot a roll of film and send it to me to develop.

Last night was Strawberry Festival, our church choir’s only fundraiser which enables us to make the choir’s annual pledged contribution to the General Operating Fund of the church. It’s a variety program of secular music, skits, dances; sort of a hodge-podge. This year’s theme was “Celebrating America”, and it included a number of songs of a patriotic nature as well as some “Americana” type things such as “Erie Canal” and “I’ve Been Workin’ on the Railroad”. Adele (85 years young) did a parody number that she made up, “I’ve Been Workin’ on the Rummage (every spring and fall)” and Lucie did a tap and twirl to GI Blues. Chuck did Charlie Daniels’ “In America” to a background CD, complete with a little dance during the instrumental interlude, and the kids of the church did a “Living Map” thing with Joanie singing “God Bless America”. The finale was the Wilhousky arrangement of “Battle Hymn of the Republic”.

The song I chose for my solo this year was “How Could I Ever Know” from the musical The Secret Garden. I introduced it by saying that I was singing it as a tribute to those who lost their lives on September 11, and also to provide some words of comfort to those who were left behind. Here are the words:

How could I know I would have to leave you?
How could I know I would hurt you so?
You were the one I was born to love.
Oh, how could I ever know.

How can I say to go on without me?
How, when I know you still need me so?
How can I say not to dream about me?
How could I ever know.

Forgive me, won’t you forgive me
And hold me in your heart
And find some new way to love me
Now that we’re apart.

How could I know I would never hold you?
Never again in this world, but, oh!
Sure as you breathe I am there inside you
How could I ever know.

Janet, who had lost her husband last year came up to me after the program and gave me a big hug and thanked me for the song, and said I made her cry.

Today was a surprise 40th anniversary party for Art and Janet at Don and Corinne’s house. I got to try out the new hot tub there. Very nice.

The poem I wrote is going to be published in an anthology called "Letters from the Soul" (Library of Congress ISBN-0-7951-5160-8) scheduled for publication in Fall 2002. I'm not sure this really counts as being "published", since I'm not getting paid for it, and I have to buy a copy of the book if I want it. But the volume will contain my poem whether or not I purchase a copy. I know this is how the International Library of Poetry makes money. But still, I doubt that they publish everything that gets sent to them, so the poem must have some worth.

According to the letter I got, the poem itself is still my own property for which I retain the copyright. "Letters from the Soul" is copyrighted as a compilation. Also, the poem is a semi-finalist in the International Open Poetry Contest, winner to be announced on June 15. I still have a few days to anticipate actually winning some money from my writing.

While I know this is probably just one step above a "vanity press" arrangement, I still think it will be fun to see my work in a real book.

Chuck made German turkeys on the grill rotisserie for dinner last night. What are German turkeys? (Caution: the following is rated "F" for Family Story) My daughter Diana was living in Germany with her first husband, an Army officer, and the son of a friend of ours was also in the Army and stationed in Germany. Ty, our friend's son, went to visit Diana and Shane for Thanksgiving. Neither Diana's oven nor her cooking skills were equal to the task of preparing a full-blown traditional Thanksgiving Dinner, so she made Cornish game hens. When Ty called back to the States to wish his parents a happy Thanksgiving, his Mom asked if they were having turkey. He said they were having three, but they're kind of small. They must be German turkeys. So, ever since that time Cornish game hens have been known as German turkeys in our family.

Another very busy day Saturday. It started out with the “transitional” meeting between the old and new LCC Board members. The Secretary/Publicity job, which I held last year will be shared this year by Deb (Publicity) and Ev (taking meeting minutes). The job will be lightened by the fact that Andy, the Artistic Director, has agreed to design and have the programs printed. That part of the job was a major source of stress for me last year. I pulled several very late nights at the computer getting the program ready to be e-mailed to the man who would print them for us, and then bit my nails the next day waiting for his phone call saying he needed me to send him a font or a picture I had neglected to send separately. I had to get it to him no later than a week before the concerts, but I often didn’t get the material I needed until two or three days before I needed to send it.

Since Deb will be doing publicity, I gave her the PageMaker program and all the books that went along with it. I made identical CD’s for both Deb and Ev with all of the electronic files I was given at last year’s transitional meeting, plus what I had added during the course of the year. I also brought a large plastic file box with the physical files, most of which concern publicity. I also brought boxes of letterhead and envelopes. I put the minutes in a separate file to give to Ev.

Deb graciously accepted everything I handed her, but every time I tried to give Ev something, she resisted. She seemed to have it in her head that we were going to meet separately. What’s to meet about? This was the transitional meeting, and it’s all I got last year.

Yesterday afternoon we went to see a young lady from our church perform the role of Widow Corney in Oliver! This was performed at a church a few blocks from our house, and it was the second performance we had attended. We went Friday evening to see Harris perform her role as the Rose Seller in the alternate cast. The play was produced by a theater group for children ages 6-18, and there was a wide range of ages and talents, but they all put forth a good effort. Harris sings well, and shows some acting ability. I hope she’ll try out for Trinity Players this year. We’re doing Finian’s Rainbow.

When I was in Oliver! a few years ago I played the role of Mrs. Bedwin, the housekeeper in Mr. Brownlow’s home where Oliver was taken after he was wrongly accused of stealing Mr. Brownlow’s handkerchief. Chuck was the Knife Grinder in that production.

Diana and Rick came over for dinner without the kids. I love my grandkids, but it’s a real zoo when they all show up. This was a nice break for Diana, too. And Rick sure loves our beer!

Yesterday was a beautiful day for porch-sitting. We have a lovely screen-porch at the back of our house, where I spent the time before dinner reading Jean Auel’s The Shelters of Stone. It was so nice, I decided to set the dinner table out there, too.

The former pastor of my church wrote an article about her recent kidney transplant for the United Church News. She is a woman of strong faith. I will post the text of the article here when I get time to transcribe it, unless I find that it is in the online edition, in which case I will provide a link.

Yesterday was my daughter Diana’s 29th birthday. I talked to her on the phone, and I think we’ll get together to celebrate on Saturday.

I took a vacation day today, making it a four day weekend with Memorial Day on Monday. My main mission today was to finish planting the flowers in the front of the house. There is a two-tier flower-bed. The top layer has five globe arborvide bushes, eight Missouri Primrose plants (they get yellow flowers in June) and eight green and white hosta. To that I added 7 red New Guinea Impatiens and a border of white alyssum and blue lobelia alternating. On the bottom tier I planted Sizzler Red salvia, Hawaii Blue ageratum and white begonias, along with some of the left-over alyssum and lobelia from what I bought for the top. All in all, if my calculations are correct, there are 139 plants. Now if I can just remember to water them....

I was supposed to go to a graduation party yesterday. The daughter of a friend just graduated from Elmhurst College, my alma mater. But I let Chuck go by himself, because I had a bad cold. It was at the constant sneezing, nose dripping stage, and I was afraid I might sneeze all over the buffet. Also, I think I had a bit of a fever last evening, but I'm feeling much better today.

I finally got my review on Friday afternoon, and it looks like my raise and the retro pay made it to my paycheck. It always amazes me that no matter how good someone is, the reviewer always has to find something wrong. There were five areas on which I was evaluated, and I got "meets expectations" on one, "exceeds expectations" on two, and "outstanding" on two. Under Communications I only got "meets expectations". The reviewer said "Jenny has no problem saying what's on her mind. This is good - yet sometimes Jenny can seem confrontational or negative." I prefer to think of myself as assertive and perceptive. It's all a matter of perspective.

Oh, yes, and while complimenting me on the fact that I recently assumed some extra duties, I was criticized for not bringing it to my supervisor's attention when I had free time on my hands. Never mind that I had to completely re-organize my routine to allow for the extra duties which I got because someone was let go and now I am now doing that person's work as well as my own. I'm not about to go to my supervisor and ask for more work just because I'm more efficient than anyone else in the department.

We went to the Symphony last night and Haydn's Symphony No. 88 - very pleasant. It amazes me every time I think about it how prolific he was. I'll have to look it up, but I think he wrote 104 symphonies, or something like that. Of course, he lived lots longer than Mozart, who probably would have beat his record if he had lived as long. Second on the program was the oboe concerto by Richard Strauss with Alex Klein, the CSO's principal oboist as the soloist. I can't imagine how he managed to breathe in some places - it was just a constant stream of notes for such a long time. Last on the program was Stravinsky's Petrushka, music which tells the story of three puppets which come alive.

I just found out from my programmer buddies that there is some sort of problem with the payroll system. This goes back to a year ago when they forced everyone to take a week of unpaid furlough and spread the "hit" out over several months. Well, the computer "thinks" that when our salaries got back to normal it was a pay increase. It regards that date as everyone's anniversary date, and therefore it will not accept an increase in pay so soon. My "real" anniversary date is April 24, so by the end of this week I should be owed a month in retro-pay for my merit increase. My boss says everything has been signed, and she says she thinks I'll be pleased. That was last week, and nobody has said anything more to me. Maybe this computer thing is the reason. I'm tempted to bring it up to my boss, but maybe it would be more fun to see her try to think of a way to tell me about it. My merit increase has been delayed a full year already "due to the economy," and my boss seemed just as upset as I was when they froze raises for the second six months. She said she was really looking forward to reviewing me.

Maybe this is silly, but I was wondering if there is going to be a huge spike in the birth rate around June 11, nine months after...... I guess it would be sort of a primitive survival type of reaction.

Sunday afternoon I took Bob, an old family friend, to the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts. Part of the event was a concert by the Skokie Valley Symphony Orchestra, and part was a production of Gianni Schicchi, the one-act opera which features my favorite soprano aria, O Mio Babbino Caro. The opera was performed by L'Opera Piccola, and I know four of the cast members. Sasha, the opera company's founder, starred in Trinity Players' production of Meet Me In St. Louis in 1995, the year I played the role of Mrs. Smith. Sasha was also in Oliver! and Picnic with me. Jerry, who has also been in several plays with me, played the role of the dead body. Madeleine and Thor were the other two, both veterans of Trinity Players.

The reason I decided to take Bob to see it was that when he came over for Christmas dinner last year, he had the name of L'Opera Piccola written down on a piece of paper so he wouldn't forget to tell me about this great opera company that puts on such wonderful performances. He didn't know that I had known about it from the very beginning when they were still using the auditorium at Northeastern Illinois University for their performances. Not only did I know about them, I went to Sasha's wedding last September!

We met our back-door neighbor yesterday. He's been in the house since October. He was trimming the bushes between our two houses, at the back of our property, and we invited him in for bratwurst. I didn't even know that Bridget, the lovely lady with the Irish brogue, had sold the house. Our new neighbor's name is Charlie, and he does computer work for the City of Chicago, in the payroll department.

I got word yesterday that a friend of mine who is a CPA was laid off. Not a good time for a CPA to be looking for work in Chicago, with all those who have been laid off from Anderson Accounting flooding the job market. I hope he can find something soon.

I've been asked to participate in a group which will evaluate my company's returned goods policies and processes. I was really surprised to be included. Nobody at my (low) level was on the list. I suppose they invited me because the customer I deal with is the largest, and therefore generates the highest amount of returns. The kick-off meeting is a conference call tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. (several of the people on the list are from other facilities). I hope I have something intelligent to contribute.

We gave one of the young ladies who was confirmed in our church a few weeks ago a gift certificate to Karnes Music. Here is what she wrote in her thank-you note to us: "Dear Chuck and Jenny, Thank you for the gift certificate to the music store. It was very generous of you. I know I will be able to use it because my piano teacher does not buy my music books, I do, and she will be very impressed with all the new nice music I purchased. Thank you for being so thoughtful." Awwww----warm fuzzies!

Well, I guess it was a good thing that Chuck insisted I fire the cleaning people. We just got our phone bill and found two calls to Mexico placed on the last day they were here, one at 9:20 am and the other at 9:47 am. Sort of narrows it down as to who might have made the calls. I called the lady who owns the cleaning service and gave her the information. She promised to send me a personal check to reimburse me for the total of $74.89.

One of the girls I eat lunch with was talking about a psychic that told her lots of things that turned out to be true. She's thinking of hosting a party where he will do readings. Some of the girls were saying they didn't want to have anything to do with it, but I think it would be fun. I'm not afraid of the future. I'm more afraid of the past.

My daughter Diana and her husband Rick came over this afternoon, minus the grandkids. They stayed awhile, talking about the kids & such. Alex got to see Spiderman as his first movie for his third birthday. Paul, Rick's younger son by his first marriage is having some problems in school. Apparently, when he first came here from Germany Rick asked to have him tested because he was in a special class in Germany. Well, the tests weren't done, and they didn't even put him in a special class for English as a second language. And now the teachers are wondering why he is failing everything. Ugh!

Chuck bought me a nice corsage to wear to church on Easter Sunday, but he left it in the refrigerator and forgot to give it to me. So for Mother's Day he gave me a silk flower corsage. It's a red rose with "dew" on its leaves. It is surrounded by lace, with a bunch of beaded plastic fibers behind the flower and white ribbons hanging down that say "Happy Mother's Day" and "May 12, 2002". It's pretty awful, but I'll wear it anyway.

My friend Bev graduated from Vandercook College of Music this evening, and we went to the Commencement. I’ve been in several plays with Bev, and she is a fellow singer in Lutheran Choir of Chicago. When LCC toured Scandinavia in 1998, before Chuck joined the choir, she and I were roomies. It doesn’t seem like it could be as much as four years ago that she decided to leave her well-paying job with a market research firm and go back to school full time. I’ve been to several of the concerts she has participated in on the way to her B.A. in music education, and the ceremonies tonight were held in the same hall as the concerts. What a wonderful surprise it was to hear her give the Valedictory Address! She was so poised and spoke so warmly of the caring, helpful atmosphere of the school, it almost made me want to go back to school, too. Almost.

I've been reading The Shelters of Stone by Jean Auel, and I came up with this verse:

Sheltering

Mists of ancient mem'ries rise
In scattered morning dreams
In raptured vision mountains spread
And mother icy streams.
The grassy plains before our eyes
Are jeweled with silver dew.
The years behind have long been dead
And now we start anew.

Dust we are and dust we'll be
Remembered but in song.
So leave your handprint on the wall
And bring your spear along.
Home and hearth are but debris
Our treasure lies within
The songs and stories we recall;
The shelter of our skin.

© 2002 Jennifer Bezold

Last night was another meeting, this time at church. I am Church Clerk, so I take the minutes of Cabinet meetings as well as keep the records of church membership. I also publish the church newsletter, The Echo. The meetings are usually pretty boring, just the usual day-to-day business of keeping things going at church. I was somewhat irritated by some grousing that went on last night about people not helping enough. It seems to be a recurring theme. The fact is, our church is quickly reaching what our Moderator calls "critical mass," which means that as old-time members die or become to frail to do the work they once did the responsiblities fall on the shoulders of those who remain. And it's getting heavier all the time.

Our church is currently searching for a new pastor. We've been without a permanent pastor for almost two years now. Our Interim Pastor did manage to run a Confirmation Class this year, and as of last Sunday we have nine new young members. I hope we can manage to keep them involved in the life of the church.

The chairman of the Search Committee reported that two candidates have been interviewed thus far. A question arose at one of the interviews that the chairman brought up at last night's meeting: Do we want a Pastor or a Chaplain? A chaplain would preach on Sundays, perform the sacraments, visit the sick and shut-ins. A pastor, in addition to all that, would lead the congregation to deepen its spiritual life and reach out to the community. For a pastor to be effective, the congregation must be open to trying new things. I like to think that is possible, but considering the fact that the person I am replacing in the job of Church Clerk held that position for 55 years, I'm not so sure that is a realistic hope.

I just got back from the annual meeting for Lutheran Choir of Chicago. I feel so relieved that I won't be Secretary/Publicity chair for next year. That position will be shared by two people. One said she didn't mind doing publicity, but didn't want to write meeting minutes, and another said she'd do the minutes. And our Artistic Director said he would do the programs for next year, which takes a lot of the pressure off the job. Chuck volunteered to be Treasurer, taking over from a CPA who's done the job for eight years. I have no doubt he'll do fine with it.

There are some really exciting things planned for next year. The Fall Festival of Song will feature Weston Noble as the guest clinician and director. We'll do an Advent/Christmas concert and sing at a member's church for the dedication of a new building. In the spring we will do Vivaldi's Dixit Dominus, and in June we will do Mozart's Requiem at Cantigny with the West Suburban Symphony Orchestra. And all I have to do is sing, which is all I ever wanted anyway.

My friend Jim came over on Saturday, and we walked through the Forest Preserve to Barbara's Kitchen for lunch. We took our binoculars and field guide along and tried to spot some of the warblers that are starting to migrate through the area. We did manage to see a few, but I can't remember their names right now. Jim is VERY good at spotting birds. When he was a teenager, his dad was president of the Illinois Audubon Society, and Jim designed the logo that they still use on their stationery---a stylized cardinal head, the cardinal being our state bird. Very clever.

The Dewey Color System
BLUE GREEN BROWN: You're a Dream Maker
You experience a sense of personal harmony when you help people. Your capacity to listen and offer suggestions allows them to become more aware of what they need. They gain a balanced perspective.

I went to see a play called "Hollywood Arms" at the new Goodman Theater last night. (The old Goodman was behind the Art Institute, for those of you who aren't from Chicago) The play was co-written by Carol Burnett and her late daughter Carrie Hamilton. There were humorous moments, and it was well acted and staged, but I was really disappointed in the play itself. It was about a dysfunctional family, not a very entertaining subject to me.

I saw Eugene O'Neil's "Long Day's Journey Into Night" at the Goodman in March. Another dysfunctional family. Ugh!

Does drama have to be about drunks and drug addicts to be considered good? I have one more ticket in this series. If I don't enjoy that play, I won't plan on going to the Goodman next season.

One very important rule for writers is to avoid clichés. Here's a site that lists them all, along with their country of origin.

Yesterday was report card pick-up, so Chuck was working late, and had to do something at church after work. He still hasn't gotten his flat tire fixed, so I was once again without a car. I decided to join the exercise class some of the ladies at work have started. They put a low-impact walking tape in the player in the product display room and bounce around for about 30 minutes. There are all different types of bodies that attend the class, and I guess I fall somewhere in the middle. A few of the girls put a little jump in each step, and some hardly move at all. But every little bit helps, I guess. Then I walked home (about 2 miles) and spent the rest of the evening reading, until Chuck brought pizza home. Oh, well. I walked to work today.

Please sign my guestmap over at the right.

We went to see (and hear) Yo-Yo Ma and the Silk Road Ensemble at Orchestra Hall last night. It was a little different. Some traditional Chinese music and some classical music from Azerbaijan (east of Turkey), three newly commissioned works from countries along the "Silk Road" trade routes China, Azerbaijan and Korea), and a Shostakovich Piano Trio.

They used some unfamiliar instruments that had familiar sounds. One instrument was sort of lute-shaped, and had a sound similar to a banjo. There were two instruments that looked and sounded like zithers; the one from Korea was much larger and longer and the instrumentalist was in a full floor-length Korean costume when she played it. Another sort of double pipe instrument had a sound somewhat like a harmonica.

I think Peter Schickele should get together with the ensemble and do a segment of Schickele Mix bringing The Silk Road Ensemble together with some bluegrass. They could call it "Blue Silk", or as my husband suggested, "Grass Road".

My company finally had its annual Service Awards Presentation for those having significant anniversaries with the company (5, 10, 20, 25 years). It was originally scheduled for February 18 this year, but was postponed "due to unscheduled business meetings addressing crucial business issues". Shortly afterward, 23 people were laid off, many of whom would have been celebrating 20 and 25 years of service to the company. I hope the fact that the presentation finally took place indicates that we're done with layoffs for awhile. I wonder when I'll get my raise? My two year anniversary was April 24.

I have the Google web search link up on this page, but I have to wait for SiteSearch until Google acknowledges my existance. I submitted my URL a few minutes ago. I hope that does the trick.

The new Jean Auel book, Shelters of Stone, is due out today. Unfortunately, I won't have the car to go get it at lunchtime or after work. Chuck has been driving me to work since last Wednesday because his truck has a flat tire.

Poetry in Motion submissions:

04-28-02
So many layers of dust
reveal years of cherished hope
So much old junk in the corner
beneath peeling walls

04-29-02
You listened selflessly to my song
Off-key tears for unforgettable hours
Recalling two-part harmony of last years desire
Entangled arms

And a Haiku
Autumn oak leaves cling
To wind-swept winter branches
Falling with the spring

Today has been as laid back as yesterday was hectic. I spent most of the afternoon ensconced in my oversized chair in the skylight room, reading and dozing.

Yesterday began with a phone call from Germany in which Will waxed poetic about how beautiful and what a good, healthy baby Heather is. He may be PCSing back to the States if he gets approved for flight school. That’s what he’s hoping for, anyway. Of course, then I won’t have an excuse to go to Germany. The phone call was cut short when Chuck reminded me that we would be leaving in an hour for the Bar Mitzvah.

We had about two hours to rest after we got home from the reception before we had to leave for a 6:00 Lutheran Choir of Chicago concert call at St. John's. Chuck had been fighting a losing battle with a sore throat all week, and he decided it would be better for him and the choir if he sat in the audience leading the thunderous applause rather than standing up front mouthing the words. We didn’t actually need his services as a cheerleader, though. There was a really good turnout in spite of the rain, and the audience was enthusiastic. They especially loved the spirituals. They applauded for each song instead of waiting for the section to end. We did an encore of Ain’t Got Time to Die, much to Steve’s chagrin. He felt he had given his all the first time he sang the solo part of that number. I couldn’t tell that his voice was tired for the encore. He sounded great.

Floyd arrived with Annie pushing him in a wheelchair. He used crutches to get to the stool he sat on while singing. When we were recessing at the very end, Jerry missed the step and went flying. Nothing broken but his pride.

With a few notable exceptions, gaffs I’d rather not memorialize, the concert went very well and the audience was appreciative. I think we had such a nice crowd because this venue is on the northwest side, where many of our singers and their friends live. Also, this church helped with publicity. Most of the other places leave that pretty much up to us.

We went to the Bar Mitzvah of my boss’s son today. I’ve never been to a Bar Mitzvah nor have I been in a Synagogue.

The sanctuary was on two levels, with a ramp leading down to the lower. The upper was at ground level as you walk in, and the seats formed a sort of gallery along the back and left sides. This was a Reformed congregation, so Chuck and I were allowed to sit together. We chose to sit on the upper level at the back. All the young people in the congregation sat along the left side of the upper level.

The room was very modern, the walls a stark white with large rectangles on the front wall formed by stainless steel strips. A menorah was molded into the front wall on each side, and on the congregation’s right a dozen stained glass backlit panels depicted the twelve tribes of Israel. A large wooden cabinet stood along the front wall, much less modern looking than the rest of the room, decorated in gold with several stars of David, a menorah, a depiction of the Ten Commandments, and a torch on either side. The cabinet had sliding doors that opened from the center, with a sheer white curtain behind them upon which was embroidered a stylization of the burning bush. The Torah scrolls were revealed when the curtain was pushed to one side.

Much of the service was sung in Hebrew. There was a phonetic rendering of the text next to the Hebrew writing in the prayer book, but there was no musical score as there is in Christian hymnbooks. Everyone seemed to have the music memorized. Portions of the service were in English, and took the form of responsive readings, much of which was from the Psalms and other portions of scripture we were familiar with.

The highlight of the service was when Michael, the Bar Mitzvah boy, got to read from the Torah for the first time during worship. There was an elaborate ceremony before the reading, which involved several people helping to remove the scrolls from the cabinet. The rabbi and those assisting brought the Torah scrolls out among the people in a procession. Everyone in the congregation who was close enough when this procession passed by touched the scrolls with the spine of his prayer book and then kissed the book where it had touched the scrolls. The whole thing was done in reverse when the scrolls were returned to the cabinet, and Michael got to lead, carrying the Torah scrolls.

Michael did two readings. The reading from the Torah was from Leviticus, and the other reading was from Ezekiel. Both readings had to do with regulations pertaining to what priests can and can’t do. After the readings, Michael gave a very thoughtful speech relating these readings to his life and his idea of how God wants him to conduct himself. Then the rabbi gave a sort of sermon, elaborating on the theme of the readings, but seeming to speak directly to Michael. The rabbi put his hands on Michael’s head and said a blessing in Hebrew for the Bar Mitzvah, ending with Mazel Tov. Michael received gifts from the congregation, including a ritual wine glass (correction: silver Kiddush cup), a prayer book, and a certificate towards a summer study in Israel.

The service ended with a ceremony that involved bread and grape juice for the young people of the congregation, all of whom filed up to the front from their seats in the left gallery.

The celebration continued with a luncheon at as elaborate as any wedding reception at Chateau Rand in Des Plaines.

Chuck had a sore throat yesterday, and didn't want to go to the Symphony, so I met a friend downtown at Miller's Pub for a great dinner before the concert. The program included two of Haydn's 104 symphonies, both of which were written during his tenure as composer-in-residence at Esterhàzy Castle. I toured the castle when I was in Europe in the summer of 2000 with Lutheran Choir of Chicago. A group of us from the choir tested the acoustics of the famous Haydn Hall (or "Haydn Hole" as our tour guide pronounced it) by breaking into a rousing chorus of "Ride the Chariot".

We also got to hear a brilliant young pianist, Martin Kasik as the soloist in the Schumann Piano Concerto in A Minor. He performed with energy and precision.

There was a modern piece on the program, too, but it wasn't as bad as some I've heard and it was only nine minutes long.

The guest conductor for the evening was Pinchas Zukerman. During the applause following Haydn's "clock" symphony, the last selection on the program, Mr. Zukerman grabbed a violin, began playing Brahm's Lullaby and encouraged everyone to "go home."

Here's the submission I made today to the Poetry in Motion contest:

She jasmine and lavender beneath his shadow
the tree covering her sweet laugh
Her perfumed desire exposed
Only stemmed within

This works like magnetic poetry, and it uses a technique called imaginative layering. It's a sneaky way of allowing the right brain to create while fooling the left brain into thinking it's doing something useful.

Chuck made me fire the "green card ladies" yesterday. These are the two or three Spanish-speaking women who have been cleaning the house every two weeks for the past year. Chuck always complained that they move things and don't replace them in the exact place where they were. My feeling is that's a small price to pay for having the house completely clean at least two days a month. Yesterday, they dropped a spoon in the garbage disposal, and they put some things in the oven. He said I could hire someone else if they spoke English and could follow instructions. Where will I find someone? Right now I am feeling overburdened with the prospect of having to deal with toilets and dustbunnies again. It doesn't bother him. It's not his job. He cooks; that's all he has to do.

During my idle websurfing yesterday evening I discovered that there is a call by a small magazine for fiction, non-fiction, and poetry about Chicago. The deadline is June 1. I have a few ideas, but I have to make sure I tune out the pestimists in my head who would have me give up before I begin. Pestimists are those voices that are constantly telling you that you couldn't possibly write anything that anyone else would want to read, so why don't you just do something useful, like laundry, instead? (Actually, that sounds a bit like my husband. The laundry part, anyway.) The first response that these voices have had to my initial ideas are that I would sound either whiney or, which may be even worse, sticky-sweet nostalgic. Well, I guess I ought to try to at least get something down on paper before I allow anyone, even someone who resides in my own psyche, to criticize it.

Floyd was at LCC rehearsal last night, cast and all. He was joking like his old self, but then he was still taking Vicodin. He has some sort of experimental contraption on his cast that hooks up to something electric that sends pulses of either electricity or sound through the cast and into his leg to speed the regeneration of the bone. Oh, the wonders of modern medicine.

Today is Wiliam Shakespeare's 438th birthday.

I finally found the source of the quote at the top of my page. Win Borden is (or was) the President of the Minnesota Association of Commerce and Industry. Here's another quote from him:

"Demand the best from yourself, because others will demand the best of you...Successful people don't simply give a project hard work. They give it their best work."

Beware of Poetry

Butterflies of ink, all too familiar
spill out over pristine pages.
Once the pen is dipped, the well overflows.
Heart-shaped longings splatter each sheet,
With no disguise, no apology.
Witnessing life; recognizing all;
Stripped, hiding nothing.

© Jennifer A. Bezold 2002

Yesterday was a really productive day, even though it began at an indecent hour for a Saturday. Not only did I write the minutes for yesterday’s board meeting, but I also completed the program for the April 27 concert and e-mailed it to the man who does our printing for us. I only have two more official things to do for Lutheran Choir of Chicago: minutes for the Annual Meeting, which will take place on May 7, and a “Save the Date” mailing sometime before the end of May, which will go out to about 500 churches advertising our Fall Festival of Song. I announced in February that I would not return to the board next year as Secretary/Publicity chair. Now I can go back to just singing, which is all I ever wanted to do.

How did I manage to get into the job in the first place? Basically, I was drafted, sort of. At last year’s Annual Meeting, there was a slate of candidates who had volunteered for all the other positions on the board except Secretary/Publicity. Nominations from the floor were opened for that position. Five people were nominated and declined. The Moderator (like President) of my church also sings with LCC and knew that I was already Church Clerk and publisher of the Echo (the church newsletter), so he knew I could do the job. Did he ask me if I wanted to? No. He nominated me. If I had been the first one asked, I would have declined immediately. But it was looking as though nobody was willing to take on the job, so I didn’t decline. Then one other person was nominated, and she didn’t decline. I should have withdrawn then, but I couldn’t think of a graceful way of doing it. Since there were two running, there had to be a written ballot. I might have lost if I hadn’t voted for myself, because they said it was a “very close race.” But it seemed hypocritical for me to actually be running and not vote for myself.

The Secretary part of the job wasn’t too difficult; it was just writing the meeting minutes, managing a database and a little bit of correspondence. But I was also responsible for designing all programs and publicity materials and ensuring that they were printed and mailed in a timely manner. I remember after the meeting, as everyone was offering congratulations (or condolences), several folks volunteered to help in any way they could. “Just call,” they said. But when it really came down to it and I asked for help with a big mailing, everyone had something else to do. After the first two times I gave up and resigned to doing it myself. I took a class in Adobe PageMaker so I could do the programs. I spent long, long hours at my desk at home working on everything. This is in addition to working full time, singing in the choir, my aforementioned duties at church, and did I mention my numerous grandchildren? I didn’t see much of them this past year. If someone has the nerve to nominate me again, my response will be not only a resounding no, but HELL, NO!

I guess I'd better get started on the minutes from today's meeting NOW. The batteries in my tape recorder were dead, so I have to rely on my handwritten notes.

“Hard work often pays off after time, but laziness always pays off now.”

At 11:30 p.m. last night I was writing minutes for the Lutheran Choir of Chicago board meeting. The next meeting will be at 8:00 a.m. Saturday morning and the minutes were from the March 9th meeting. The only reason I didn’t wait until tonight to do them was that I was afraid I’d run out of ink in my printer at midnight while trying to print out seven copies. I copied them at work today.

But the really big question in my mind is why didn’t I write them the afternoon of March 9, or at least sometime during the week after that meeting? Church Cabinet meeting minutes and the church newsletter are also victims of my procrastination. Why do I procrastinate? If it’s because I think something will be too difficult to do, the act of procrastination certainly doesn’t make the task any easier. If it’s because I’m afraid of doing a poor job, it’s less likely that I’ll do a good job at the last minute. These are good, hard, logical arguments for diving into a task immediately, and yet I delay.

The experts cite a number of possible reasons for procrastinating:
1. Lack of relevance of the task – in other words, who cares?
2. Acceptance of another’s goals – I don’t want to do it, you want me to.
3. Perfectionism – (See the subheading of this page)
4. Evaluation anxiety – I’ve always hated tests, interviews and auditions.
5. Ambiguity – What was it you wanted?
6. Fear of the unknown – I’ve never done that before.
7. Fear of failure – See, I knew I couldn’t do that!
8. Fear of success – Oh, oh! Now I’ll have to do that well all the time.
9. Inability to handle the task – Not usually a problem for me. Really.

These same experts have numerous methods of overcoming the problem, but I sort of like the take on the situation offered by John Perry, professor of philosophy at Stanford University. He calls it Structured Procrastination.

And here's a Procrastinator's Checklist to help identify your own personal stalling tactics.

Thanks, SomeTHING, for your list of movies.

The plumber came to fix the problem of having no hot water pressure in the kitchen sink. This has been going on for more than a month, since the day our new hot water heater was installed. According to Chuck, the plumber took a blue-handled pipe wrench (the tool of choice for such a job) and banged vigorously on the hot water supply pipe under the kitchen sink. After that, miraculously, we had plenty of hot water pressure! Because this plumber also happens to be a member of our church, he didn't charge us, and I am happy about that. But I've been doing dishes by hand instead of in the dishwasher for a month!

We had this month's Credit Department meeting today, and it was a much calmer affair than last month's. The man with the foul mouth didn't attend. It was a lunch meeting, and the company provided a modest spread. I wonder if it was to make up for having to listen to all the cursing last month. I actually did complain about last month's meeting, so maybe it did some good.

Bob Greene's Column in yesterday's Chicago Tribune consisted of several reader-supplied lists of movies you would want to have if you were stranded alone on a desert island. A few of them made my list, too. Here are my choices:

1. The Quiet Man - It has everything a good story should have, plus John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara.

2. Harvey - Jimmy Stewart doing what he does best. "In this world you must be oh, so smart or oh, so pleasant. For years I was smart. I prefer pleasant."

3. The Wizard of Oz - I still feel the same magic as I did when I was a child. "If I only had....." Maybe I already have it.

4. E.T. - I'm so glad they've re-released this one. Now I can enjoy it with my grandkids.

5. Appollo 13 - for sheer drama, and because I remember praying along with the rest of the world for them to come home safely.

I've been walking to work this week, since we've had a few really nice days. A little too nice, since it stimulated the trees to produce copious amounts of pollen. By the time I got home today, I was sneezing constantly, and my eyes were red and itchy. I had to take a long, cool shower to get the pollen out of my hair. Thank goodness Chuck had someone come and fix the air conditioner today. A starter-booster and a capacitor had to be replaced. Chuck said the capacitor had "exploded". I don't know; I don't care; I just know I don't have to sneeze every 10 seconds.

I’m not sure why I’ve become interested in writing lately. All my life I’ve been told that I wrote well, which I dismissed as meaning I was capable of stringing words together to make some sense, not much of an accomplishment, in my opinion. In seventh grade I actually won third place in a citywide essay contest, which was a proud moment, but the experience didn’t inspire me to want to be a writer.

I am really interested in the creative process, and I’ve enjoyed such books as “How to Think Like Leonardo da Vinci” by Michael Gelb, “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron, and, yes, “Bird by Bird” by Anne Lamott. The latter was especially inspiring, with so many “Aha!” moments in which I realized that even a successful writer often feels that nobody would be interested in reading anything they would write. A few weeks ago, while waiting for the warm-up to begin before a choral concert I was involved in, a fellow chorus member “caught” me reading “Writing Down the Bones” by Natalie Goldberg, and “confessed” to the fact that she was thinking about trying to write as well. From the slightly embarrassed way we spoke of the subject, one would think we were talking about masturbation. Anyway, I lent her my copy of “Bird by Bird” and we agreed to encourage each other.

Over the last month or so, since I've been writing in this weblog, I've written about some very mundane things, such as water heaters, car trouble, health issues, and church activities. I've written about things I've read, about why someone is important to me, and about something that happened when I was thirteen years old. Does any or all of this constitute "serious" writing? Who knows? It's words on paper, and that's a start.

Things accomplished Sunday:

Walked two miles in the Forest Preserve. Flowers seen: bloodroot, spring beauty. Not yet in bloom: red & white trillium, May apple, dogtooth violet, lilly-of-the valley. Birds seen: cardinal, goldfinch, flicker. Heard but not seen: bluejay.

Washed one load of laundry - underwear in case anyone asks.

Mailed Taxes

Publicity mailing for Lutheran Choir of Chicago. Our last concert of the season is April 27 at 7:30 p.m. at St. John's on Montrose. I sent out 350 notices. I had to search for a mail box that wasn't full. Tax Day, you know.

Lynne at church is really excited about these vitamins she's started selling. I told her I might try them, but after looking at the ingredients I realize that the Classic formula has iron in it, which I don't tolerate well. So I guess I'll keep on taking the Spectrient vitamin/mineral supplement that I've been taking for several months. It doesn't have iron, but it does have an enzyme blend and several botanicals such as ginko, ginseng, garlic and milk thistle. I also take a calcium/magnesium supplement, which I'll also continue taking. However, I might try this anti-aging formula that Lynne is selling. After all, you're only young once.

I spent several hours this morning at church labeling raffle prizes for our Spaghetti Supper & Nickel Social, which was held this afternoon and evening. The Nickel Social is a unique event, and I've never heard of it being done by any other organization. All prizes are donated, and most are small things: a book, a stuffed animal, a bottle of wine (popular item), packages of PlayDoh or bottles of bubble stuff. Tickets worth 5 cents each are sold in packages ranging from $1.00 to special pre-orders of $100.00. Theoretically, a person purchasing the minimum of $1.00 may possibly win 20 items. And there are HUNDREDS of items raffled off.

Here is a writing exercise at Peeling the Onion and my response:

"Desire is for something immediate, something you can see, or feel, a voice you hear. A longing is for something a very 'long' way off and it's more melancholy, less assertive feeling. You wallow in the hollow of self. Homesickness is the classic form of longing." Ken Wark
What is it that you long for?

Tomorrow morning we would return to the city. The sunburn of the first days had deepened to a golden glow that smelled of Coppertone and Noxema. The bright sun, tempered by the cool lake breeze would be a memory in the sticky heat of a Chicago summer.

“This is his,” said my friend as she handed me the book and inclined her head towards the stairs.

I hadn’t gone up to the guys’ room the entire week. It was a long, steep staircase, significantly warmer at the top. I was aware of my heart beating, surely the result of the climb. I surveyed the sloping walls of the wood-paneled attic room. They both had their backs to me, intent on their packing.

“So this is the luxury suite,” I quipped from the doorway. “Here, this is yours.”

He came towards me. “Thanks,” he said.

I started to go, but stopped on the first step when I felt his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. I turned around and looked up at him, and he seemed to move towards me slightly, his eyes locked on mine. How long did that moment last? I’ve never been able to measure its duration, but I’ll always long for its sweetness.

© Jennifer A. Bezold 2002

FINALLY, after delaying my review and merit raise (along with everyone else's in the organization) for a YEAR (due to the economy, they said), it looks like I may finally get a raise. The catch is I have to come up with a Personal Development Plan. Who thinks of these things? Sadistic HR people, no doubt. I must think of suitable answers to the following questions by tomorrow:

What are your greatest strengths and how can they be leveraged to improve your performance?
What developmental objectives and plans will you pursue in the next year?
What could the organization do to support your efforts?

Oh, joy.

It is impossible to get in contact with Chuck at his new job, so Dr. Kelly called me at work to tell me that Chuck had to reschedule yesterday’s appointment. While he was on the phone with me, he took the opportunity to report that the cholesterol numbers on the blood test I had last Tuesday were “outstanding” and that the mammogram I had on Friday was just fine. The cholesterol isn’t quite as good as it was a year ago, though, six weeks after first starting to take Lipitor. I was really careful that first six weeks, and brought the total down from 260 to 149. Since then I have resiled to some of my bad habits, and the total is now 181. I had oatmeal for breakfast today.

......................Desirable....Borderline....High Risk....My Numbers
Triglycerides.....LT 200.......200-399........GT 399.............81
HDL (Good)......GT 59...............................LT 35...............52
LDL (Bad).........LT 130......130-159.........GT 159............113
Total................LT 200.......200-239.........GT 239...........181

I married Chuck 31 years ago today. I remember talking to Jean, his mom, that afternoon and being surprised to find that Chuck was taking a nap. How could he be sleeping at a time like this? And that’s the way it’s been for 31 years. Whenever I’m frenetic, agitated, or worried about anything he’s calm and logical. He keeps me grounded, yet he allows me my flights of fancy without clipping my wings.

I think spring is finally here. It was nice enough after work yesterday for me to take my two-mile walk through the Forest Preserve near my house. I saw lily-of-the-valley leaf blades three inches high already, and I saw a few goldfinches. But what really tells me that spring is serious about staying is the cardinal in the tree-top, as bright red as he can be, proclaiming that this is HIS territory.

I.R.S. = Institution Responsible for Stress

"Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's." ---Matthew 22:21

I sat down and figured our taxes last night. I'd been dreading it, because I knew we'd have to pay. Not because we're rich, mind you. When Service Merchandise went out of business Chuck decided to take the small pension payout in a lump-sum distribution. I gave him the forms to roll it over into an IRA, but HE had to fill them out and it was too complicated for him. So he said, "I'll just pay the taxes." (What would he do without me?) Well, he figured that the taxes the government withheld from the payment would be all there was to pay, but there was also a 10% penalty, which is due NOW. I suppose it wouldn't have been so bad if we hadn't also gotten that tax-relief advance last summer.

This is the coolest thing! The Interim Minister of our church attended a taping of the Oprah Winfrey Show last week. If you go to this site, find the archives for the April 4 show and click on the link for "After the Show", you can see and hear her ask a question during the audience participation period. She is the one who says her birthday is April 4 also, and asked a question about leaders.

Chuck and I and our friend Jim just got back from an early anniversary celebration dinner at Port Edward Restaurant It's in Algonquin, IL, about an hour's drive from where we live, but definitely worth the extra trouble to get there. Great seafood, wonderful wine, and it's always fun to browse the gift shop. Wednesday, April 10 will be our 31st wedding anniversary. Time flies when you're havin' fun!

We've been going to Port Edward for special occasions for quite a while. Chuck first found out about the place in the early 80's when he was on loan from the Air Force to the Department of Defense, working in downtown Chicago at the M.E.P.S. (Military Enlistment Processing Station) helping to do physicals for new enlistees (all branches). The station was headed by a Navy Chief, and he held a "Dining In" at Port Edward. A "Dining In" is informal and is for military personnel only. A "Dining-Out" is a formal dinner with an unusual set of protocol, but is for spouses and other civilian personnel as well.

I found out yesterday that a Floyd broke his leg, both bones. He had surgery yesterday to put pins in the bones, and he’s going to be out of commission for quite a while. He had been helping someone choreograph a production of Annie, and he wasn’t paying attention to the location of the edge of the stage. When he fell, his leg buckled under him and took all of his weight.

I took voice lessons from Floyd for several years, and he directs the plays I have been in for the past seven years, but I first met him in 1970. He directed L’il Abner that year, where I played the role of Mammy Yokum and Chuck played Evil-Eye Fleegle. My joke is always that I knew him when he didn’t have hair. At the age of 25 he had already lost a good deal of his hair, but he wears a tupé now. I’m not sure when he started wearing it, since Chuck’s Air Force career took me away from Chicago for so long, but he was wearing it in 1991 when we met again. He was directing a combined choir at an afternoon ecumenical service on Pentecost that year, and our church choir was participating. Chuck pointed him out to me, “Isn’t that Floyd?” It had been almost twenty years since I saw him last, but he remembered me.

Floyd is a unique person, one of the kindest, most decent souls I know. He can walk into a room full of complete strangers and make each and every one of them feel special in some way. Nobody is ever excluded when he’s around. He has an infectious sense of humor, and can get away with saying the most outrageous things, just because he’s Floyd. When I was going through extremely difficult times with my mother and my job, one of the things that kept me from going completely nuts was the hour per week I spent with him at my voice lesson. He always made me feel good about myself when nobody else, even Chuck, could or would. He seems present in every moment, and loves life. This picture was taken in the summer of 2000 while we were on tour with Lutheran Choir of Chicago. I just love this picture of him, because it seems to characterize him so well.

Chuck and I went to the Symphony last night. The guest conductor was Zubin Mehta, and the program included two short works by Stravinsky: Fireworks and Circus Polka. The latter was written for the Barnum & Bailey Circus, and was to accompany choreography by elephants. That brings up quite a picture in one’s mind when listening to it.

Also on the program was Prokofiev’s Violin Concerto No. 2, featuring guest soloist Nikolaj Znaider. He really gets his whole body into the act, moving his weight from one leg to the other in time to the music. Mr. Znaider played an encore, which he announced, but I didn’t catch the name.

The second half of the program was Beethoven’s Symphony No.7, which is a workout for the orchestra rivaling anything Rossini could dish up.

Welcome to the world, Heather Jean! Heather is our ninth grandchild, born at the Würtzburg Army Hospital at 7:47 p.m., German time on April 4. She is 7 lbs. 5 oz. and 21 inches long, as best I can remember from very early this morning when my son called. That's all the info I have right now.

In case you're wondering how I got to have NINE grandchildren at the tender age of 52, here's the story. My daughter Diana was married in 1992 and had our first granddaughter, (1) Samantha Jean in 1993. She divorced Samantha's father and married Rick, who had two boys (2) Ben and (3) Paul. Diana and Rick had (4) David, (5) Rebeccah, (6) Alex, (7) Ian. My son Will married Donna, who already had (8) Heidie, and they just had (9) Heather yesterday!

One good thing about the fact that Service Merchandise went out of business is that it forced my husband to change jobs, which forced him to have a physical examination, something he hasn’t done in the 10 years since he’s been out of the Air Force. It was determined that he has high blood pressure, and the nurse at the Board of Education wouldn’t sign off on his application until he could prove that he was under a doctor’s care for it. He’s been taking medication for a few weeks now, and he had a doctor’s appointment last night. The meds will be adjusted, and he has to go back next Wednesday. The receptionist asked him if he wanted the appointment written on a card, and he said no, he would remember it because April 10 is our anniversary. So she said, “Oh, well, you’ll have to do something special, then.” To which Chuck replied, “No I don’t. I married her, didn’t I?” Dr. Kelly overheard this exchange and said, “Never mind the appointment, Maria. He won’t live that long!”

I have this theory of equilibrium which states that it is impossible to get ahead. Case in point: I very proudly made a deposit to my savings account on Saturday consisting of the cash Chuck had given me to cover his purchases at the auction two weeks ago, the rebate on the washing machine we recently bought, and the check I had been given for singing at the other church of Friday evening. So today I had to have a new alternator installed in my Cavalier, which left me with a net gain of $29.06.

I had to get blood drawn for my semi-annual test to make sure the cholesterol-lowering drug I’m taking is still working and isn’t destroying my liver. I figured it would be an early lunch plus maybe a half-hour I could make up some time during the week. My doctor has all the people who need blood tests come in when he first opens up at 10:00 a.m. and he draws them one after the other, assembly-line style, going from one of his three examining rooms to another until everyone's been stuck. The room was chilly, while I was awaiting my turn, and when the doctor tried to get blood out of my arm, he couldn’t, because it had all been re-directed to my internal organs. He finally had me hold my arm under hot water and he drew it from my hand.

Well, that was done, and since this was a fasting blood test, I was starving. So I stopped in at Tre Kronor Restaurant for a waffle covered in fresh strawberries and bananas and that all-important first cup of coffee of the day. I forgot to tell the waitress no whipped cream, and I ate it anyway. It was real, hand-whipped cream, worth every calorie and gram of cholesterol.

On my way back to work, I noticed the ABS light was on, and also the battery light. I know that sometimes happens if the ignition key isn’t turned to the right position, so when I got to a red light I turned off the car and tried re-starting it. Click, click, nothing. So I put on my flashers and got out of the car. There is a mechanic across the street, so I ran over there and explained my plight, as best I could. Three guys from the shop pushed my car across four lanes of traffic into the driveway of the garage. After the car was jumped and the battery charged a little, they determined that the problem was the alternator. Well, since I was sort of stuck, so I told them to fix it. They had the part, they put it in, but the part was bad and they had to order another one from their supplier, which took another hour to get, plus the time to install it. This was one of the few times I actually had a use for my cell phone. I managed to call work to tell them I wouldn’t be back today.

Have you ever noticed that all mechanics’ waiting rooms look alike? Dirty glass on two sides, dirty brown floor, a door going into the garage, a wood-framed window set into a paneled wall. I sat on what appeared to be a bench seat from a truck covered in brown plaid vinyl, next to which was a 1950’s vintage end-table with ragged, out of date magazines. The only difference in this particular garage was that some of the magazines were in Korean.

While I was waiting, several other customers came in, none of which spoke English very well, but none of which spoke Korean, either. This is a multi-cultural neighborhood. There was a lot of gesturing between the customers and the shop owners, but I guess communication was finally accomplished.

I’m glad I had brought something to read. While I waited for my car I finished Nobel Peace Prize winner Elie Wiesel’s Night, which is a graphic first-hand account of the horror of the Nazi death camps. This is the current selection for the One Book, One Chicago program.

Put work aside in favour of fun - you've earned a long, festive break! Children give you a welcome opportunity to forget your cares. Take your favourite young people out for a trip to the zoo or museum. Their innocence can help you see the world with fresh eyes. You're not nearly as jaded as you pretend.

Today was one of the rare times I actually took the advice of my horoscope (see above). I took a vacation day today and spent most of it with my granddaughter, Becca, who just turned five years old yesterday. I went over to my daughter's house to give Becca a shirt I had picked up for her when I was at the BX at Great Lakes on Friday – my company actually gave us Good Friday off. It was a summery shirt, white with a blue and green glittery butterfly on it. I had been thinking of taking Becca to the Art Institute today, but when she saw the shirt, she cried, “Oh, I LOVE butterflies!” So I took her to the Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum instead, where the main attraction is a butterfly haven. I think she had a nice time. She has a totally infectious smile.

It’s amazing how much more fun grandchildren are than one’s own children. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that the burden of responsibility for years and years stretching far into the foreseeable future doesn’t come with them. And it also helps that I can choose to take them one at a time instead of all at once. Becca was a perfect lady, did just as she was told, held my hand when crossing the street, didn’t try to touch the butterflies, and was careful where she walked. I bought her a Beanie Baby butterfly, a necklace, and a pencil with butterflies on it at the museum gift shop.