Modern or Memories

My tree is up---same tree, same ornaments that we have used for forty years. Every year when I walk in department stores in October just before Halloween I am awed by the beautiful, color coordinated trees with their perfectly spaced lights and artistically placed ornaments---none of which have mildew or peanut butter and jelly stains on them. Every year I say to myself, "This year I am going to buy one of those magnificent trees." Then I start thinking about the ornaments: Goldilocks and the Three Bears which I made of felt and sequins that were frequently removed from the tree by Lauren so she could enact the story in a corner of the living room, the Santa on a scale reminiscent of the year Jason was Santa in his Christmas play and had to sing a solo that went "Ever since you put me on this diet, all I ever think about is food cause what you're feeding me is boring as can be. Just peas and carrots for my meal; I now know how a rabbit feels," (I learned it too because Jason had pneumonia the week before the performance so we had to practice and practice together at home so he would be ready for the performance.) The felt ornaments my mother picked out for us at the Memorial Hospital Bazaar, the hand made ornaments Mike's mother made for each of us every Christmas, the reindeer soccer player that Brian picked out, the number one dad ornament that Erin picked especially for her father. Other ornaments from my students whom I thanked saying "I will always remember you when I put my tree up," and now can't remember who gave them to me. Other ornaments from the annual ornament exchange at my bridge club. The shiney glass balls that survived little hands carefully placing them on the tree and tears that were shed when careful little hands accidentally broke one. How could I consider getting another tree when the one I have whispers so many memories to me ? The old tree is here for as long as I celebrate Christmas!

Grandmother Angered by Standardized Testing

I have been a teacher for many years and often viewed the results of standardized testing as "a useful tool." Never, until I became a grandmother, did the questions asked upset me. Recently my three year old grandson was being asked a question by his Parents as Teachers lady. The question was, "What would you do if you walked into a very dark room?" His answer was, "I would try very hard not to be afraid." What a wonderful answer! However, it was not what the tester was looking for so he did not get any points. Of course, he knows that you turn a light on to solve the problem of darkness, but she did not ask how you solve the problem of darkness, she asked, "What would you do?" Is it possible that we have to deal with our fear before we have the courage to walk to the switch and turn the light on? It reminded me of another time when a tester asked a lady "What would you think if you entered a room full of spiderwebs?" Her answer was, " I would think spiders had been there." Good answer, but not what the tester was looking for. What a boring world this would be if all our answers were exactly what standardized tests wanted us to answer.

Want to Know What Brown Can Do For You?

If you listen to ads much you will be familiar with the slogan, "What can brown do for you?" I have always thought that was a pretty cool slogan--nice ring, easy to remember. I wondered why they never answer the question. Now I know!!! About six weeks ago, I sent a package of coffee and creole spice from my home in Missouri to my son who lives in Austin, Texas. It was sent on October 6. Several days later he called to see when I sent it. I tracked the package and found it in San Antonio, Texas. This seemed abit strange because Austin is closer to me than San Antonio, but I didn't worry. I assured him that he would get it the next day. The next day I tracked it again and found that it was now in Vernon, California. I called United Parcel Service; they apologized and told me that it he would receive it on October 14. This was a little upsetting to me because I was flying to Austin on October 18 and would not have paid the $5.98 to have it sent if I had known that it would take so long for him to get it. By now I was enjoying tracking packages, so I tracked it again and found that it was now in Los Angeles, California. On October 14 my son called to say that the package had been delivered, but it was not in the original package as the creole seasoning was not with it and the coffee and been broken open and seasoned with creole spice. At this point I decided that a reputable organization like United Parcel Service would want to know of my problem and would want to reimbuse my loss. Happy customers are the key to any business's success. I called UPS, told my story, and was assured by a very nice lady that she had filed my claim, and someone would call me within a few days. A week later I had heard nothing so my husband got involved. He was told by UPS that a form had been sent to the HyVee store where I had paid to have the package sent and that HyVee had never sent it back. I went to HyVee. A very nice manager checked with their accounting office and was told that they had never received the form. While I stood there, the manager called UPS, and they assured him that they would fax the form, to him within ninety minutes. I agreed to check back in a few days. Three days later when I checked back I was told that HyVee had not received the form. A very nice lady in the HyVee accounting office recontacted UPS. They agreed to fax her the form. When she received it, she called me and said that UPS was asking for the receipts for the coffee and the creole seasoning. The package had been sent on October 6, twenty-four days before. I did not have the receipts. It was becoming increasingly clear that UPS was hoping they could make the process difficult enough to make me decide that the claim was not worth pursuing. I was determined that their ploy was not going to work. I went on line and found the price of the creole seasoning and to the coffee shop to get a receipt for the coffee. I took them to my HyVee store.
Within the next week I checked with Mallory, the nice lady in HyVee's accounting department who by now had become a friend of mine, and she said that UPS would probably mail the check directly to me. I told her that this was impossible because UPS had never in this chain of events asked for my address. A few days later Mallory called to tell me that HyVee had received a check made out to them, but that they would cash it for me. I picked up my check for $19.90, by my calculations the check should have been for $22.83, but I was not about to start this process over again. As for the question "What can Brown do for you?" DON'T ASK. YOU DON'T WANT IT DONE.

Only Children Should Ride Piggy-Back

I have been watching with interest and concern the effort to pass a bill that will help the economy through a difficult time. The problems that our nation is facing right now are immense and the solutions are hard to figure out. However, there are some things about this bail out that offend me, and I venture to say millions of other Americans. I am referring to the STUPID things that are piggy backed onto the bill. Wooden arrows??? Give me a break!!! When our nation's whole economic system is at risk, why should my hard-earned tax money go to make wooden arrows. I also heard in a political ad that a gubernatorial candidate voted for a bill to study the mating habits of monkeys. I am not naive enough to believe that---what I do believe is that the mating habits of monkeys was piggy backed on to another bill that he did vote for. Enough already!!! I think our nation doesn't need a lot more laws, but I would wholeheartedly support a law making it illegal to piggy back anything onto laws. Piggy back is for little children whose daddies carry them to bed that way not to get stupid laws passed for special interest groups who would be laughed out of the country if they tried to get their law passed in any way but trying to hook it on to an important law and hope it doesn't get noticed. I think the names of the people who lobby to get things piggybacked should be published in large neon letters so we could make sure that we vote them out of office.

random thoughts

Tonight we decided to cook salmon burgers on the outdoor grill. A very large spider had previously laid claim to the deck by building a very intricate web stretching from flower pot to flower pot to roof of house and back to deck railings. The spider was busily repairing a hole in the web. She was hungry; we were hungry. However, we saw no reason that both of us couldn't be fed. Carefully we edged our way to the grill, not destroying even one filament of the spiders work of art. I don't know if she appreciated our effort, but we felt better that she is still able to live in the web that she had constructed. After all she may be Charlotte. If I go out tomorrow and she has crocheted words into the web---wow~!
Is there anyone out there who actually uses every single button on the remote control? Is there anyone out there who actually knows what all those oddly labeled buttons are for? Are the remote control engineers just trying to show off? Because there are so many buttons and the remote is so small, the lettering is microscopic definitely a problem for many people. I would love to have a remote that has a button for on/off, a button for forward and rewind, a button to change channels and a mute button. That's four buttons----plenty for me, thank you very much.
What would happen if a presidential candidate stood up before the camera and said, "My name is ----------- and I want very much to be your president. If you elect me here are the things I would do----------. My mother taught me that if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. I know my opponent is saying bad things about me. I refuse to play that game so I will be saying nothing about him/her. I will leave it up to you to discern the truth or falsehood of what my opponent is saying about me. Thank you very much." (If candidates would behave like my imaginary candidate, I wouldn't have to use my complicated remote to switch channels to avoid all the negative campaign ads for one thing.)
Random thoughts are good----sometimes they are referred to as venting.

We live in a complicated world. When I turn on T.V. the commentators are telling me which state is going to go with which candidate in the upcoming election. It is disconcerting to think that they have figured out who is going to win before I even go to the polls. I wish they would just quit guessing and let the election be a surprise.

Cute or not Cute; That is the Question

I was at a party last night. I guess it was a party, (defined in the dictionary as a social gathering of invited guests), I was invited and we did socialize some, but the real reason the party was held was to sell us things that we want but don't need. As usual I had a good time because I am a people person, but there was an aspect to this party that wasn't fun.
There was a six-year-old boy who dominated the party.
It was a cooking show so all the ingredients were out complete with for-sale tools to demonstrate how to prepare each dish. When the hostess would request volunteers to cube bread with a knife that cut like magic, Mr. Six-Year-Old-Dominator would grab the knife. When the hostess would ask for a volunteer to use the lemon-juicer to see how easily a lemon can be juiced, Mr. SYOD would grab the lemon and proceed to juice it. The garlic press which "easily crushes a garlic clove" was grabbed by Mr. SYOD. He had met his match with the garlic press. His six-year old hands would not crush the garlic press although he continued to press, grunt and strain to get the job done---just what a lady who is selling this product wants to see happen. Finally another guest removed the press from his hands and showed that it could be easily done with normal adult hands. While we were filling out our order forms Mr. SYOD used a recliner with a movable footrest as a slide or jungle gym of sorts. Of course Mr. SYOD's mother gently and kindly tried to corral him with gentle looks and soft words but to no avail.
In my mind I returned to an afternoon when my daughter, son-in law, and my not yet two year old grandson and I were enjoying tea in a lovely English garden. My grandson being a toddler began to wander a little from table to table giving beautiful smiles to all the guests at the tea room. Of course, being his grandmother I thought he was adorable. However, his mother, with wisdom that is beyond the scope of grandmothering, immediately corralled him and kept him at our table where he could only smile at us. Her words of wisdom as she did this returned to me last night, " He is going to stay at our table. Other people may not think he is as cute as we think he is." How lucky I am to have children who parent with consideration for others!

It's Hard to Be a Hang-Loose Person in a World of Nitpickers

I call myself a hang-loose person, but that might just be a euphemism for unorganized,poor with numbers, and forgetful. My third child who is a CPA and very into details just informed me that my profile had me listed as a mother for thirty-four years. She found this hard to believe since her older sister is thirty-six. My daughter-in-law, Natalie, immediately jumped in with this comment "I knew it! As an outsider, I always thought Lauren, (the thirty-six year old), was just too good to be true. I mean, she is smart and funny and so personable. Where could she have gotten all that from? Other people's genes of course! I mean she is really just in a different league than the other family members. She was adopted. I knew it...I knew it. " Thanks Natalie for trying to make what I had written the truth. However, I immediately went to my blog profile and my daughter aged two years. Lauren, formerly listed as 34, is now 36. She should be glad that I didn't wait several years to write the blog. No one who is thirty-eight wants to become forty in the blink of an eye---or with the click of a mouse. I have never been good with numbers or remembering details. However, pleasing people is high on my list----thus the corrections. At least I know someone is reading my blog.

Did you mean?

I just finished completing a book order at my favorite on-line book store. Just before I placed my order I visited with a friend who asked me to order her two books. One of the books was titled For This Child I Pray. When I searched for the book I received a "did you mean" response. I remember how we laughed a few years ago when someone discovered that if you google "French military victories" you get the response "Did you mean French military defeats?" I didn't even chuckle when I searched "For This Child I Pray" and got the response, "Did you mean For This Child I Play?" It struck me as odd that I would be more likely to find a book entitled "For This Child I Play" than it would to find a book entitled "For This Child I Pray." It would seem to me that although playing with your child is very important, praying for your child is way more important.

Boy-Girl Debate

Frequently I hear parents discussing whether it is more difficult to raise boys than girls or vice versa. Although I am not a psychologist, I feel that I am able to speak to that question rather confidently as I have raised two boys and two girls. My observation is that the parenting difficulties are different but equal. The fact is that boys and girls are just different. For instance, when my young daughters had a little friend over to play, they greeted each other sweetly, joined hands and walked quietly down the hall to the bedroom where they played Barbies, paper dolls, dress-up or maybe got out crayons and designed doll clothes or dream houses. When the boys had little friends over, they met at the front door, immediately practiced the latest wrestling hold and rolled around on the floor for awhile before choosing some other rambunctious activity. The difference came home to me recently when I was entertaining my three year old grandson, Josiah. He asked if he could play with my hand-painted set of Russian matruska dolls. He was not the first grandchild to ask this question. Amaris, my seven year old grandaughter, has been playing with them for several years every time she comes to visit. Amaris lines them up for imaginary beauty pageants, wedding etc. during which the dolls have delightful quiet conversations before they nest again and go back on the shelf. As a grandmother, I believe totally in equality: what one grandchild is allowed to do the other grandchildren should be allowed to do. Thus Josiah received immediate permissionto play with the dolls. Very carefully he un-nested the dolls and lined them up. Then he asked me where a ball was so he could knock them down explaining to me that they were bowling pins. Together we nested the hand-painted dolls and placed them back on the shelf before looking for other objects to use as bowling pins. Thus my point "boys and girls are different" received reinforcement.