Five-Minute Friday...SONG

There's nothing like a song to conjure up a happy memory.  Mothers dig out old songs to sing to babies, and lovers have "our song."  And how about a school song to resurrect the past.

Unlike the eye, which is always looking for something new and exciting and different, the ear likes to hear the same thing over and over and over.  It is always on the alert for a soothing oldie.  Song is comfort food for the spirit.                                          
                                                            

As a mom, one of my favorite memories of raising kids is Sunday-night singing.  We used to have singing friends and every Sunday night we would get together at someone's  house to sing.  We sang old songs and we learned new songs, which are now some of the old favorites we love.  I miss Sunday night singing.

Is there anyone who never got a song stuck in their head?  I can never figure out why, but sometimes a song takes up residence in my head and sticks around for DAYS.  I'm always a little afraid to think too much about that, lest I might summon a recent one back to haunt me.  Even as I write this I'm trying to avoid eye-contact, so to speak, in an effort to keep them at bay.  So, moving along...

Singing runs the gamut.  On the one hand, anybody can do it.  Anybody.  As long as you don't delve into its mysteries too deeply.  Once you start to analyze song, it's really quite complicated.  There's the pitch and the tone and the tempo, the key signature, the style.  All sorts of things, really.  But then that is another beauty of song:  Truly something for everyone.

Five-Minute Friday...WHAT MAMA DID

Mama is the last of our parents.  She is the only living grandparent my children have left.  She is all that stands between us being the "old folks" of the family.

Mama was, like many women, a brave woman.  But her bravery was in a class of its own,  being called on to follow Daddy and haul us all off to the wilds of South America, including a stint in the Amazon rainforest, before the Amazon rainforest was cool.  Before it was ever heard much of at all, actually.

For a kid, that is Adventure in Spades.  For a mom, not so much.  She, reluctantly, took on the homeschooling of three children, before homeschooling was cool.  She had to learn how to cook foods she had never seen or heard of.  She had to wash the family laundry in the river.  Not unlike the Pioneer women of American history, she had to hold the fort while Daddy traipsed off deeper into the jungle in search of gold and other precious things, for weeks and months at a time, with no communication whatever, and only a hope that he would come back.

Later we moved to town where she counted herself oh-so-fortunate to find a missionary hospital to have her baby in, a hospital run and staffed by a Seventh Day Adventist missionary doctor and his nurse/wife, who became lifelong family friends.

I can only now appreciate the courage it took for her to go, three ~ and then four ~ children in tow, off to where there were headhunters lurking behind every tree.

Even now, when asked about it, she will often reply with "Don't remind me."

Christmas Continued

No kidlets in this house on Xmas morning. That is a first for us in the last 35 years. Not a happy first.

This year, my very first not to host Xmas dinner at my house, C and I are sharing the kitchen favors. My duty is to make the classic green bean casserole and the dressing for the turkey, which C is going to cook, and while I am busy not cooking the turkey, I am answering a series of phone calls from C.

Once we get everything ready here, we are off to the second shift of Xmas at C's house, where she and De have cooked their very first turkey. Everything is well in hand, the turkey is eminently edible! and, unlike last Xmas, this dinner goes off uneventfully.

C's extra guests include their sweet little neighbors, a young army family with two small children. Having gone home to Utah for Thanksgiving, they are, or would be, spending Xmas alone at home. They are pleasant company, and ever so appreciative, repeatedly expressing thanks for the invitation.

We eat, we visit, we open presents, we talk, we play games, we clean up. And eventually it is time to call it a day. So we divvy up the leftovers and head home, to our Xmas-less house. Well, Xmas-less it would be, but our cadet comes home with us, so we are happily blessed.

Another Xmas goes to memory, and another year. 2010 is just ahead. 2010??? Now if someone would tell me it was 1999 coming up, that I could believe!

'Twas the Week Before Xmas

Sunday ~ Xmas tree is leaning forlornly against the side of the house, waiting, waiting, waiting to come in! I give C instructions to take the turkey out of the freezer today. I start thinking about writing Xmas cards. But just thinking about it.

Monday ~ Today is spent last-minute tidying. M is due at 8:45 tonight, but his plane is early, of all things, and we find him standing on the sidewalk in front of the terminal. On our way home we stop briefly at C's to disrupt their bedtime and then hit the Taco Bell drive-thru.

Tuesday ~ Dark and early I am up to put Cajun Beef Stew, at M's request, in the crockpot, my very favorite kitchen servant. Ordinarily M spends his mornings at home sleeping. But today he gets up early-ish and brings in the Xmas tree! Then we go out for last-minute Xmas shopping and other errands. After lunch we head to C's to make Xmas cookies. Then we come home to eat and run. It's Xmas caroling night! When we get home M dresses the Xmas tree with lights, half of which don't work. They worked when we put them away last year, so....????

Wednesday ~ Another dark and early morning. M goes off with the chimney sweep. I stay home and write a couple of Xmas cards. The guys come back for lunch, and later C and crew come over for dinner. And Xmas-tree decorating. I may start a "Twelve Days of Christmas Tree Decorations" tradition.

Thursday ~ Xmas Eve! Snow flurries!!! Early morning grocery shopping. And that's it! Positively NO MORE shopping before Xmas!!!! More writing of more Xmas cards, and this afternoon M is off to spend the night at C's. Guess why? Because he doesn't think it's proper to wake up on Xmas morning in a kidless-house? I must say I agree. But, he is the kidlet of this house, so What? About? Us??? Except for the first Xmas we were married, we have never had a Xmas morning without kidlets, so I guess we are getting ready to find out what that's like.

Still to do ~ dressing and green bean casserole to cook, presents to wrap, still Xmas cards to write and plenty more where those came from.

We have to share S with his in-laws, so we had Xmas with his family last week; D, alas, is off in the wilds of Kansas, trapped, thanks to Global Warming, in the Blizzard of the Century, so we will not be seeing them anytime soon. But tomorrow, M and C+...

Christmas coming up!

Christmas, First Shift

S and G and the Blue-Eyed Boy live in a maze in some remote part of the county. Every time we go there it's a whole new world, and we can't remember the way. Or maybe it's that we always come from a different direction...? In any case, yesterday was no exception.

We knew which exit to take off the highway, but...then what? When the road dead ends do we turn left? Or do we turn right? What to do when we get to the high school? And which way is the church that we have to pass in order to get to the bridge? Time to call S for directions. Again. The same way, I'm embarrassed to say, we have to do every time we go to their house. Too bad he isn't answering the phone...

Fortunately, the Chimney Sweep gets around, and after a bit of wandering like the lost tribes of Israel, he saw something familiar and got an inspiration of how to proceed. YAY!! We arrived just minutes after C and D, the BB's, and the Other Princess.

Dinner strayed a bit from the usual, all in a good way: fried turkey, green bean bundles, peppermint cheesecake. Oh, and what was left of the mashed potatoes after the crockpot tipped over in the car at the stop sign.

Presents, too, anything anybody could possibly want...

• pj's
• legos
• books
• games
• scented candles
• soft, fuzzy gripper socks
• puzzles
• gadgets

...and the first shift of Xmas passes to memory.

D is still off traipsing the wilds of Kansas and will not be home at all this year, but next year lurks on the horizon getting closer by the minute.

M, happily, will be home tomorrow evening. So...Xmas, Part II, coming up!

The Greatest Show On Earth

Well, not exactly. That would be Barnum & Bailey, wouldn't it, as opposed to Carson & Barnes, which is what showed up here on the edge of town this morning.

Carson & Barnes, the last of the *real* circuses. The ones that play in tents. Wow! And this isn't just any tent. Nosirree!!! This tent is going to be set up by elephants. And, the public is invited to watch! So, early(ish) in the morning, C and her kidlets came over, and we set off to see the circus.

When we got there, a flatbed trailer sat out in the big middle of the field, waiting for its cargo to unfold into The Big Top. The elephants were lounging around, while a herd of circus men brought them wheelbarrow loads of hay, dusted them off, gave them pedicures, and basically waited on them hand and foot, so we judged we were in plenty of time. No hurries in this camp. We stood around awhile, thoroughly enjoying the elephants, but, I confess, beginning to worry a bit about getting this show on the road, so to speak.

Suddenly...worry no more! Hearing shouts and other assorted noises coming from the direction of the tent, we turned to see a multitude of men, harnessed to various belts and pulleys and all sorts of contraptions, d-r-a-g-g-i-n-g one section of the tent from the trailer over to the edge of a circle of stakes that had been set up around it. All I could think of was the massive backache these guys were going to have by lunchtime.

While we were waiting for the elephants to get in gear, we happened to run into Amanda, the Lady in Charge of the Circus. She looked like she might have been all of 18 or 19 years old (though I must admit pretty much everybody is starting to look like a teenager to me anymore), but in our conversation with her we learned, among other things, that she had a Master's degree, one which cost her parents $20,000 a year, and which apparently qualified her to ride elephants in the circus, dressed in sequins and feathers. Whatever.

She explained the workings of the circus to us:

• It plays 300 days in a year. In a row. Without even one day off.
• They set up early in the morning on the day of the show, and knock everything down immediately following the show that night.
  
• To be in the circus, one must truly be a Jack-of-all-Trades. Everyone has a job "before the show, during the show, and after the show."
• The truck drivers are the animal trainers are the tent setter-uppers are the acrobats.
• Sleep is an unheard-of luxury, limited to the time between 1-2 am, after everything is packed up and road-ready, and 5am or so, when it is time to hit the road. She didn't offer any information on when they might possibly squeeze in time for a shower or a meal.
• Outside of that abbreviated night, the "downtime" in circus life is from 2-3 pm, when everyone is allowed a one-hour nap, for a grand total of 3-5 hours of sleep a day/night, 300 days in a row...something you might want to keep in mind if you ever find yourself sharing the road with a circus caravan. It might be in your best interest to give them the road.

The relevant information we learned from Amanda, however, was that there would be no elephants helping set up the tent today. Or any other day for that matter. You see, the circus no longer employs elephants to do any work, thanks to the Animal Rights people who have intervened on their behalf.

I glanced over at the men's Herculean efforts to whip that tent into shape and wondered where the Human Rights people were. No word from them evidently.

Nothing from the Green Rights people either, even though by now several petroleum-burning, emission-spewing tractors and bulldozers had been called in to do what an elephant could have done effortlessly and fossil-fuel free. Elephants fart, though, so perhaps it's a trade-off in that respect.

Well, that was the circus. We entertained a vague notion of going to the show this afternoon, but showtime came and went, and no sign of Monga home from work. It's probably just as well, for me, anyway. I'm sure the kidlets would have enjoyed it; I have fond memories of the 1-2 times I went to the circus as a kid myself, but I'm thinking that as an adult, especially after the rude, politically-correct disillusions of this morning, I'm probably better off with my memories. Reality never quite measures up to the Good Old Days.

And just think... "These days" are someday going to be somebody's Good Old Days. Imagine that.

One Year In

We are one year, and a little bit more, into a seriously empty-nested life.

A few days ago we had a surprise phone call from M. His only agenda was chit-chat, and he asked what I was doing. "Knitting a baby blanket," I told him.

Then he asked what his dad was doing. "Watching a PBS show about Pennsylvania diners," I said.

And then there was a l-o-n-g pause. "Did I call the house" asked M, "or did I call the old folks' home?"

Hmmmm....good question.

The End of an Era

Provided, of course, that they pass, the plebes at West Point had their last class as plebes today. Tomorrow begin the TEE's, "Term End Exams" by the Army's fondness for acronyms, commonly known in the civilian world as "finals." And just like that, M and his classmates will be through 1/4 of their career as West Point cadets.

Impossible! Well, it sure seems that way. It is the tritest and tiredest of cliches to say that time flies, but, as cliches are wont to be, oh, how true. Actually, if there were something faster than flying, that is what time would do...At least from my point of view. M suggests that the year went a lot faster for me than it did for him. ;-)

I've been remembering and reminiscing with myself about this time last year. The countdown chain, which once draped around three sides of the room and ended in a puddle of colored paper links on the floor in the corner, was down to barely stretching along one wall, and we were frantically trying to keep up.

Admission papers, medical forms, shot records, parking passes, reporting instructions, bus schedules, packing lists, hotel reservations, plane tickets, rental car information, google maps, snacks for the airplane, a ride to the airport.... Did I forget anything? Maybe not, because everything went smoothly. Well, there were a few quirks and glitches along the way, but overall the trip was uneventful, and when it was over, we were all present and accounted for.

I remember, and thank God for, the hot and heavy e-traffic on the candidate-net where the newbie parents were huddled together in a fog, and friendly moderators had the answer to every question. Now we are seasoned veterans of a year of plebe-net, where a whole day can actually go by without an emergency or even an inquiry or comment.

So now it's someone else's turn. Right now, there are approximately 1,300 cadet candidates all over the country stressing out about things that we are now taking in stride. And if there are that many cadet candidates out there, there are twice that many parents ~ and more, in this age of step families when pairents no longer necessarily come in pairs ~ freaking out about turning their children over to Uncle Sam and their own personal Trail of Tears that will follow.

By this time, all of us, plebes and parents, have come to terms with some of the basic changes in our lives. We have become resigned to the fact that USMA now has first claim on them. Our plebes remain our kidlets, but we have been relieved of responsibility and authority. Oddly, I have a bittersweet feeling about the whole thing.

The bitter part is easy: no more M coming home every night; he will still come to visit, but the time of him actually living at home is getting shorter and shorter. Already his shouldabeen three-week leave of this summer has been abbreviated to four days, and we wouldn't even have that if not for the kindness and generosity of an airline employee who graciously offered M a buddy pass for the trip home.

The sweet part is harder. What is there that's sweet about the end of our family life? Well...mainly that it is as it should be. No matter that we might not like or want it, there is rightness in kidlets growing up and leaving home. This past year, we have all learned a lot about ourselves and about each other. And of course, memories.

After next week, M and the Class of 2012 will be rising yuks, going on to bigger things, and the misery of Beast Barracks will fall to the hapless candidates of 2013. So here's a toast to the end of plebedom, with a hope and a prayer for the new yuks. ;-) Only 36 months to go!

What a difference a year makes.

Friendly Fun by Fone and Facebook

Yesterday was a friend-friendly day.

My first surprise came when the phone rang. I am always a little apprehensive about answering the phone because, even in the age of caller ID there are unwelcome surprises. But, we have a business at home, so I almost always answer, because you never know when it's going to be your next client. This time the ID said "ST OF CALIFORNIA CON," certainly no one I recognize, and other than my mom, nothing California appeals to me. But, oddly enough, for a mostly local business, we get calls from all over the country, so, hesitant or not, I answered.

I was greeted by a deep voice saying, "Is this the A residence?" Followed by, "Is this M, also known as L?"

"Y-e-s-s-s-s...?"

And then, "This is DD." Oh, my, what a surprise!!! DD and I are friends of a rather unusual sort. We met probably some 40 years ago or so, when his parents hired me to babysit for him and his younger brother JD. I believe their father and my father had some sort of work connection.

DD was a fun kid to hang out with, and his parents were very nice to work for. JD...well, he was a bit more challenging than DD, but very likable, and now, having raised some challenging grand/sons of my own, I have a whole new appreciation for JD and boys like him ;-)

DD and I have stayed in touch over the years, mostly with letters and Xmas cards, and once with a visit when his traveling job sent him to the town where we lived. Over the years life has gotten faster and furious-er, and the letters have dwindled to only Xmas cards.

It turns out that DD now does some sort of research for the State of California, which is how he happened to come across my boy on the internet, prompting him to call me. We didn't talk long, but it was long enough. Long enough to re-establish a connection of good memories of good times.

My other surprise was WW on Facebook. WW and I are a much more likely pair. We became friends about 20 years ago when my family moved to Houston and joined the WW-led homeschool support group, our hands-down, no-contest favorite homeschool group in our entire homeschooling career. As homeschooling moms we had a lot of common interests, and our children became friends as well.

We, too, have kept in touch over the years with sporadic letters, and through our children, and like everyone who has lasted longer than a few days in this life, we have each been through some hard things and some difficulties, but here we are...alive-and-well survivors on Facebook!

Techno-tard that I am, I have to give high-tech its due. And I'm going to need to adjust my attitude to love it...EEK!...because that, it seems, is where my friends live.