Riding the Bullet Train

• I now have clean plates. I'm still short on silverware, but if I got up and left you all hanging for 15 minutes, I'd have a full complement of forks, knives and spoons.

• Why is it when you run out of plates you run out of everything else too? This applies to socks, toilet paper, toothpaste and patience. Conspiracy theory, anybody?

• Survivor finally got interesting last night. America's Next Top Model has been rather boring this entire cycle. And I hate to say it, but Amazing Race -- a show I LOVE -- has been less than riveting as well. Don't get me started on Heroes. I don't think I understand anything about this show anymore. I fully expect the weird Hawaiian Island Polar Bear to show up at any moment.

• No more political commercials and no more robocalls. Life is very, very good. However, I'm still not planning on answering my phone if the incoming call doesn't pass my caller ID test. I'm happy, not stupid.

• Opportunities for leaf scuffling are growing thin. This week was perfect for mid-afternoon scuffling. It's supposed to rain this weekend, though, which totally ruins the scuffling experience. Wet leaves don't scuffle. They wilt like soggy corn flakes, and then they stick to your shoes. Yuck.

• Tomorrow is the last home game of the football season here at TunaU. Can I say THANK GOD? I think you're either born with the whole football tailgating gene or not, and I was definitely reading a book, or sleeping, or cleaning out the lint trap when the love of the tailgate was passed out. If I wanted to eat out of my trunk, I'd just set up shop in the grocery store parking lot every Saturday.

• South Park continues to amaze me for their ability to take current events and put huge chunks of actual quotes in an episode less than 48 hours later. If you missed it, the entire 2008 Election ended up being an "Ocean's Eleven" ripoff, which was priceless. The Simpson's Halloween show was quite spectacular this year as well. I especially loved the whole Charlie Brown Halloween sendoff.

• Do you think it would be possible for South Park and The Simpons to go to The Cartoon Network and beat up all the animated crap they show on TV? I think the Fairly Odd Parents and all those other unbelievably inferior cartoons would be in a world of hurt. It would be a public service.

• Friday is nearly officially over. I'm way tired (there's something not new at all), and Fiddle-Dee-Dee, tomorrow is another day. With God as my witness, I'll see you all back here tomorrow.

Riding the Bullet Train

• I now have clean plates. I'm still short on silverware, but if I got up and left you all hanging for 15 minutes, I'd have a full complement of forks, knives and spoons.

• Why is it when you run out of plates you run out of everything else too? This applies to socks, toilet paper, toothpaste and patience. Conspiracy theory, anybody?

• Survivor finally got interesting last night. America's Next Top Model has been rather boring this entire cycle. And I hate to say it, but Amazing Race -- a show I LOVE -- has been less than riveting as well. Don't get me started on Heroes. I don't think I understand anything about this show anymore. I fully expect the weird Hawaiian Island Polar Bear to show up at any moment.

• No more political commercials and no more robocalls. Life is very, very good. However, I'm still not planning on answering my phone if the incoming call doesn't pass my caller ID test. I'm happy, not stupid.

• Opportunities for leaf scuffling are growing thin. This week was perfect for mid-afternoon scuffling. It's supposed to rain this weekend, though, which totally ruins the scuffling experience. Wet leaves don't scuffle. They wilt like soggy corn flakes, and then they stick to your shoes. Yuck.

• Tomorrow is the last home game of the football season here at TunaU. Can I say THANK GOD? I think you're either born with the whole football tailgating gene or not, and I was definitely reading a book, or sleeping, or cleaning out the lint trap when the love of the tailgate was passed out. If I wanted to eat out of my trunk, I'd just set up shop in the grocery store parking lot every Saturday.

• South Park continues to amaze me for their ability to take current events and put huge chunks of actual quotes in an episode less than 48 hours later. If you missed it, the entire 2008 Election ended up being an "Ocean's Eleven" ripoff, which was priceless. The Simpson's Halloween show was quite spectacular this year as well. I especially loved the whole Charlie Brown Halloween sendoff.

• Do you think it would be possible for South Park and The Simpons to go to The Cartoon Network and beat up all the animated crap they show on TV? I think the Fairly Odd Parents and all those other unbelievably inferior cartoons would be in a world of hurt. It would be a public service.

• Friday is nearly officially over. I'm way tired (there's something not new at all), and Fiddle-Dee-Dee, tomorrow is another day. With God as my witness, I'll see you all back here tomorrow.

Shuffle. Play. Repeat.

Another Thursday done which means another week done which means another week closer to doneness. Yes, I know that maybe none of that made any sense at all. It's alright. It's Thursday.

I measure all my weeks in Tuesdays and Thursdays. Those are the days that I drive north and teach and teach and teach and teach and teach until my back hurts, my eyes are blurry, and I cannot speak a single sentence without having to repeat it and try to make sense of my somewhat jumbled thoughts. By the time Thursday night rolls around, I'm in WOOT weekend mode, even though I have to work all day Friday and half the day on Saturday. When I finally make it to Sunday, I get the Sunday blues like everyone else. Not because the next day is Monday, but because the next day is Monday and the day after that is Tuesday...and for me, Tuesday starts it all again.

What's surprising about this lifestyle of voluntary insanity is that for the most part, I'm not complaining. I'm really not. But not complaining doesn't mean that I'm not ten thousands ways of tired. Not complaining doesn't mean I have cleanliness and order, because at this point I really don't have a house; I merely have strategically arranged mountains of clutter that I pray will not fall over and crush the cats. Not complaining doesn't mean that I have any clean plates (nope), or silverware. No, at this point my choices are a vegetable peeler, an ice cream scoop, a grapefruit knife and a slotted spoon. Although it makes for limiting (albeit interesting) dinner options, if I were going on "Let's Make a Deal" I'd be golden.

What makes all the clutter and exhaustion and "who am I and where am I?" palatable is that every Tuesday and Thursday I am surrounded by a bunch of cool students who love to sing and who want to study. Over the years I've always had a student or two every semester that tests the limits of my patience. Not this year. My students are engaged and active. They are thoughtful and questioning. They are funny and challenging. Best of all -- they are passionate. And that is a quality that I can hope to inspire or awaken in others, but really it cannot be taught. This year my students are better prepared from week to week than I have ever seen before. And on the odd occasion that someone has a lousy lesson, they don't come back the next week defeated or surly or confrontational. Quite the contrary. They come back prepared and anxious to prove that the previous week was an anomaly. What more could I ask?

So at the end of a long Thursday, which marks the end of a long Tuesday and Thursday and the beginning of the easy part of the week(-end), I may be so tired that I'm not sure of my name, but I'm not too tired to pop in my iPod, hit "shuffle" and sing, sing, sing all the way home.

That's what it means to be passionate. And honestly, it's just the way life goes around here. My life may look like a bit of chaos wrapped in exhaustion, but I wouldn't trade my personal soundtrack for anything.

Shuffle. Play. Repeat.

Another Thursday done which means another week done which means another week closer to doneness. Yes, I know that maybe none of that made any sense at all. It's alright. It's Thursday.

I measure all my weeks in Tuesdays and Thursdays. Those are the days that I drive north and teach and teach and teach and teach and teach until my back hurts, my eyes are blurry, and I cannot speak a single sentence without having to repeat it and try to make sense of my somewhat jumbled thoughts. By the time Thursday night rolls around, I'm in WOOT weekend mode, even though I have to work all day Friday and half the day on Saturday. When I finally make it to Sunday, I get the Sunday blues like everyone else. Not because the next day is Monday, but because the next day is Monday and the day after that is Tuesday...and for me, Tuesday starts it all again.

What's surprising about this lifestyle of voluntary insanity is that for the most part, I'm not complaining. I'm really not. But not complaining doesn't mean that I'm not ten thousands ways of tired. Not complaining doesn't mean I have cleanliness and order, because at this point I really don't have a house; I merely have strategically arranged mountains of clutter that I pray will not fall over and crush the cats. Not complaining doesn't mean that I have any clean plates (nope), or silverware. No, at this point my choices are a vegetable peeler, an ice cream scoop, a grapefruit knife and a slotted spoon. Although it makes for limiting (albeit interesting) dinner options, if I were going on "Let's Make a Deal" I'd be golden.

What makes all the clutter and exhaustion and "who am I and where am I?" palatable is that every Tuesday and Thursday I am surrounded by a bunch of cool students who love to sing and who want to study. Over the years I've always had a student or two every semester that tests the limits of my patience. Not this year. My students are engaged and active. They are thoughtful and questioning. They are funny and challenging. Best of all -- they are passionate. And that is a quality that I can hope to inspire or awaken in others, but really it cannot be taught. This year my students are better prepared from week to week than I have ever seen before. And on the odd occasion that someone has a lousy lesson, they don't come back the next week defeated or surly or confrontational. Quite the contrary. They come back prepared and anxious to prove that the previous week was an anomaly. What more could I ask?

So at the end of a long Thursday, which marks the end of a long Tuesday and Thursday and the beginning of the easy part of the week(-end), I may be so tired that I'm not sure of my name, but I'm not too tired to pop in my iPod, hit "shuffle" and sing, sing, sing all the way home.

That's what it means to be passionate. And honestly, it's just the way life goes around here. My life may look like a bit of chaos wrapped in exhaustion, but I wouldn't trade my personal soundtrack for anything.

Meeting of the Minds

Tonight on my personal hit parade of pain-in-the-ass parental activities was that semi-annual torture known as parent-teacher conferences. As the parent of a freshman, the venue was new, but the exercise as a whole was as annoying as always. What lessons can I share from my side of the table?

1. When in Doubt, Bullshit
With each teacher I met, I would introduce myself, tell the teacher my child's name and which hour her class was. One teacher flipped through the appropriate files, engaging in random chit-chat while looking for the grade sheet. Once found, this teacher looked it over and summarized the information that was clearly printed. On the sheet. In front of me. As if I were unable to read English and decipher points and percentages listed in tidy columns. When the teacher's remarks never got any more personal than pointing to random scores I got the sneaking suspicious this educator had NO IDEA who he was talking about. Sure enough, TeenTuna told me he didn't know the names of any of his students, and that he calls everybody "you guys" or "that kid". NICE.

2. When in Doubt, Justify
In the most troublesome class, I was prepared to sit down and brainstorm some ideas for improving scores. Once I acknowledged that TeenTuna was struggling, the teacher's response? "Well, some kids are doing worse." Guess what? THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME FEEL BETTER.

3. No Excuses - part 1
One of the difficulties of parent-teacher conferences is I'm a team of one and constantly have to play line roulette. Which line is going to move more quickly? Do I suck it up and stay in the slowest moving line to get it over with, or do I zip through several less-busy lines in the hopes that the slow line will be less congested later? Two-parent teams are able to divide and conquer, hedging their bets among several lines. Me? It's like the grocery store. Once I've selected a checkout lane and unloaded half my groceries, there's nothing left to do but grumble if a new lane suddenly opens up. Parent teacher conferences are 98% standing around waiting your turn while waiting for either death or dinner (whichever comes first). It's one big exercise in hurry up and wait. So, when I finally reach the promised land of the chair on the other side of the card table, the last thing I want to hear out of the always-seated teacher is, "What time is it? I'm really tired." Hey guess what? Me too. But one of us at this table is getting paid for this exercise, while the other has been standing in lines in a stuffy high school gym for upwards of two hours.

4. No Excuses - part 2
At one table I decided to ask about a particular writing assignment. I got a look that made me wonder if I had asked about the opportunities for goat sacrifice instead of asking about Homeric inspired personal essays. The answer was a very terse, "No. I have 90 students." Oh. sorry. I mistakenly thought my child was one of them. Which way to the goats?

5. Cherish the Gems
There are some teachers that are absolute gems. Those would be the ones who know your child. Who appreciate your child for who they are as well as for the work they have done. Who are invested in their subject matter and their students. Who care about what is being taught, how it is being taught, and how it is being learned. Teachers like you are easy to spot and an absolute pleasure to talk to. I am so grateful that TeenTuna has several of you this year. It has made her high school experience a positive one. To you I offer my sincere thanks. You get an A+

Meeting of the Minds

Tonight on my personal hit parade of pain-in-the-ass parental activities was that semi-annual torture known as parent-teacher conferences. As the parent of a freshman, the venue was new, but the exercise as a whole was as annoying as always. What lessons can I share from my side of the table?

1. When in Doubt, Bullshit
With each teacher I met, I would introduce myself, tell the teacher my child's name and which hour her class was. One teacher flipped through the appropriate files, engaging in random chit-chat while looking for the grade sheet. Once found, this teacher looked it over and summarized the information that was clearly printed. On the sheet. In front of me. As if I were unable to read English and decipher points and percentages listed in tidy columns. When the teacher's remarks never got any more personal than pointing to random scores I got the sneaking suspicious this educator had NO IDEA who he was talking about. Sure enough, TeenTuna told me he didn't know the names of any of his students, and that he calls everybody "you guys" or "that kid". NICE.

2. When in Doubt, Justify
In the most troublesome class, I was prepared to sit down and brainstorm some ideas for improving scores. Once I acknowledged that TeenTuna was struggling, the teacher's response? "Well, some kids are doing worse." Guess what? THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME FEEL BETTER.

3. No Excuses - part 1
One of the difficulties of parent-teacher conferences is I'm a team of one and constantly have to play line roulette. Which line is going to move more quickly? Do I suck it up and stay in the slowest moving line to get it over with, or do I zip through several less-busy lines in the hopes that the slow line will be less congested later? Two-parent teams are able to divide and conquer, hedging their bets among several lines. Me? It's like the grocery store. Once I've selected a checkout lane and unloaded half my groceries, there's nothing left to do but grumble if a new lane suddenly opens up. Parent teacher conferences are 98% standing around waiting your turn while waiting for either death or dinner (whichever comes first). It's one big exercise in hurry up and wait. So, when I finally reach the promised land of the chair on the other side of the card table, the last thing I want to hear out of the always-seated teacher is, "What time is it? I'm really tired." Hey guess what? Me too. But one of us at this table is getting paid for this exercise, while the other has been standing in lines in a stuffy high school gym for upwards of two hours.

4. No Excuses - part 2
At one table I decided to ask about a particular writing assignment. I got a look that made me wonder if I had asked about the opportunities for goat sacrifice instead of asking about Homeric inspired personal essays. The answer was a very terse, "No. I have 90 students." Oh. sorry. I mistakenly thought my child was one of them. Which way to the goats?

5. Cherish the Gems
There are some teachers that are absolute gems. Those would be the ones who know your child. Who appreciate your child for who they are as well as for the work they have done. Who are invested in their subject matter and their students. Who care about what is being taught, how it is being taught, and how it is being learned. Teachers like you are easy to spot and an absolute pleasure to talk to. I am so grateful that TeenTuna has several of you this year. It has made her high school experience a positive one. To you I offer my sincere thanks. You get an A+

Wow

It appears Campaign 2008 is finally over. Although they called a winner at 11pm Eastern time, I keep waiting for someone to cut in and say, "Oh wait...we can't call the result yet." Even though McCain has already given a concession speech -- the most gracious words and heartfelt words I have heard him speak in many months -- I am still afraid the results won't hold.

I'm afraid.

This is what the last eight years have done. Turned us into a culture of distrust and fear. Distrust allowed us to be confused and unfocused, and then fear paralyzed us and denied us the opportunity to think and do for ourselves.

I think we may be breaking free. Our country made a bold choice and said loudly that it wants to move and think and feel again. But at the same time, I am well aware that there are thousands upon thousands of people tonight who aren't celebrating. Their candidate lost and they are afraid.


Tonight many people are excited for tomorrow. They are ready to move and do and act. They are ready to turn hope into action for the betterment of themselves, their communities and their country. What better time to stop and reach out a hand to those who are afraid and find a common voice and a common goal. Really we all have so much more in common than not. We'll be stronger if we work together.




If your candidate won tonight, then celebrate.
If your candidate lost tonight, don't be afraid.
Let's all roll up our sleeves and do the good work that needs to be done.

Yes We Can!

Wow

It appears Campaign 2008 is finally over. Although they called a winner at 11pm Eastern time, I keep waiting for someone to cut in and say, "Oh wait...we can't call the result yet." Even though McCain has already given a concession speech -- the most gracious words and heartfelt words I have heard him speak in many months -- I am still afraid the results won't hold.

I'm afraid.

This is what the last eight years have done. Turned us into a culture of distrust and fear. Distrust allowed us to be confused and unfocused, and then fear paralyzed us and denied us the opportunity to think and do for ourselves.

I think we may be breaking free. Our country made a bold choice and said loudly that it wants to move and think and feel again. But at the same time, I am well aware that there are thousands upon thousands of people tonight who aren't celebrating. Their candidate lost and they are afraid.


Tonight many people are excited for tomorrow. They are ready to move and do and act. They are ready to turn hope into action for the betterment of themselves, their communities and their country. What better time to stop and reach out a hand to those who are afraid and find a common voice and a common goal. Really we all have so much more in common than not. We'll be stronger if we work together.




If your candidate won tonight, then celebrate.
If your candidate lost tonight, don't be afraid.
Let's all roll up our sleeves and do the good work that needs to be done.

Yes We Can!

Prepare to Exit Tunnel. Maintain Speed.

I don't know about you, but it's been a long couple of years.

In 2001 our country suffered a great loss.
Some mourned and naively wondered why anybody would hate us.
Some mourned and recognized opportunity wrapped in revenge.
We responded by declaring war on a concept.
We responded by attacking a country that wasn't involved.
We responded by taking more lives while sacrificing our own.

We relished our power by posturing on aircraft carriers
-- orchestrating photo-ops under huge banners --
while denying media coverage of our own war dead.
Because if you can't see it, then it can't be all that bad.
Or it can't be at all.

We toppled statues from foreign regimes
while we built our own heroic delusions higher than ever before.
We were the ultimate role model
saving the rest of the world from itself.

But we forgot that we live in this world too.
We were not immune to the lure of power or wealth.
And by making our own rules,
we would become more powerful.
More wealthy. More heroic.
We were sure to win. And that's all that mattered.
Being on top.

But we forgot to save us from ourselves.
And now our towers are crumbling and our money is gone.
The people of this country are holding their breath praying that nothing else happens
While our leaders use one hand to count the days until they leave
and the other hand to point fingers of blame at everybody else.
Where is our aircraft carrier now and what would the banner say?

After too many years of trying to beat up the entire world
and only succeeding in giving ourselves a big black eye
let's hope we're ready to exit this long, lonely tunnel.
Let's hope that lessons have been learned.
Let's hope that instead of thumping our chest and crowing our delusions of grandeur,
we might be able to exercise, patience, humility, respect and a true sense of patriotism.

Tomorrow, let "Mission Accomplished" be a new statement.
Simple but powerful.

"I voted"

Prepare to Exit Tunnel. Maintain Speed.

I don't know about you, but it's been a long couple of years.

In 2001 our country suffered a great loss.
Some mourned and naively wondered why anybody would hate us.
Some mourned and recognized opportunity wrapped in revenge.
We responded by declaring war on a concept.
We responded by attacking a country that wasn't involved.
We responded by taking more lives while sacrificing our own.

We relished our power by posturing on aircraft carriers
-- orchestrating photo-ops under huge banners --
while denying media coverage of our own war dead.
Because if you can't see it, then it can't be all that bad.
Or it can't be at all.

We toppled statues from foreign regimes
while we built our own heroic delusions higher than ever before.
We were the ultimate role model
saving the rest of the world from itself.

But we forgot that we live in this world too.
We were not immune to the lure of power or wealth.
And by making our own rules,
we would become more powerful.
More wealthy. More heroic.
We were sure to win. And that's all that mattered.
Being on top.

But we forgot to save us from ourselves.
And now our towers are crumbling and our money is gone.
The people of this country are holding their breath praying that nothing else happens
While our leaders use one hand to count the days until they leave
and the other hand to point fingers of blame at everybody else.
Where is our aircraft carrier now and what would the banner say?

After too many years of trying to beat up the entire world
and only succeeding in giving ourselves a big black eye
let's hope we're ready to exit this long, lonely tunnel.
Let's hope that lessons have been learned.
Let's hope that instead of thumping our chest and crowing our delusions of grandeur,
we might be able to exercise, patience, humility, respect and a true sense of patriotism.

Tomorrow, let "Mission Accomplished" be a new statement.
Simple but powerful.

"I voted"

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. In Love :: Shakespeare

2. Be My Guest :: Beauty & the Beast

3. Number One :: Star Trek, The Next Generation

4. Swallowed Whole :: Jonah

5. 50 percent :: Half

6. Made in :: China

7. Supplement :: Vitamin

8. Right For :: Appropriate

9. Endless :: Love

10. Ceramic :: Cat


Well, well, well. This is what I get for being away from this weekly exercise for awhile. Several popular culture references, one Bible story for redemption, and a ceramic cat. Some of them I think I can offer plausible excuses: TeenTuna is studying Romeo and Juliet in school, and asked about the movie "Shakespeare in Love." A local high school is putting on "Beauty and the Beast" and I drive past the sign several times a week. Star Trek, Next Generation? Well, Jonathan Frakes ("Number One") was definitely easy on the eyes, back in the day.










I have nothing but an apology to offer in regards to the treacly Lionel Richie - Diana Ross duet.

And last but not least, I do not own a ceramic cat.
No wait. I think I do.

I think my unconscious mutterings are telling me my unconscious is tired and needs sleep.
More tomorrow for NaBloPoMo.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think:

1. In Love :: Shakespeare

2. Be My Guest :: Beauty & the Beast

3. Number One :: Star Trek, The Next Generation

4. Swallowed Whole :: Jonah

5. 50 percent :: Half

6. Made in :: China

7. Supplement :: Vitamin

8. Right For :: Appropriate

9. Endless :: Love

10. Ceramic :: Cat


Well, well, well. This is what I get for being away from this weekly exercise for awhile. Several popular culture references, one Bible story for redemption, and a ceramic cat. Some of them I think I can offer plausible excuses: TeenTuna is studying Romeo and Juliet in school, and asked about the movie "Shakespeare in Love." A local high school is putting on "Beauty and the Beast" and I drive past the sign several times a week. Star Trek, Next Generation? Well, Jonathan Frakes ("Number One") was definitely easy on the eyes, back in the day.










I have nothing but an apology to offer in regards to the treacly Lionel Richie - Diana Ross duet.

And last but not least, I do not own a ceramic cat.
No wait. I think I do.

I think my unconscious mutterings are telling me my unconscious is tired and needs sleep.
More tomorrow for NaBloPoMo.

Awakening

And here we are again, on November 1st.

Because I have a love of Internet graphics coupled with a desire to fit in with the popular crowd, I'm participating in the annual National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo) writing exercise, which is a poor-man's (or busy woman's) answer to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).

November 1st is also All-Saints or All-Souls Day, a day where the departed are remembered. It's also the first full day of gorging after Halloween, Saturday night Halloween party night, College football Saturday night, and the day stores can stop apologizing for having Christmas decorations and display (that have been there since August...who are we kidding?).

I spent some time today cleaning up my blog. I checked links, deleted a few, and added several. I removed programs that had ceased to exist, and just tried to spiff the whole thing up a little bit. Although I always read my blogs via Bloglines, today I clicked through every link from my blog page. I have to admit that although RSS feeders are much more time efficient, there was something entirely pleasing about going to the actual page and looking at the Blog design: colors and graphics and everything that made a blog personal. I've missed that personal connection that an actual page has, and I think over the next few months I'm going to make a point of spending less time on the RSS reader and more time on the actual page.

Once again, it's been awhile since I've posted with any sort of regularity, and I'm not going to apologize, but my excuse is neither new nor exciting: I've been busy. But I'm excited to dust things off and start writing again, which tells me that my time off has been good. With a teenager, two cats, two jobs, a fifteen year old car, a house and garden in a constant state of upheaval and change, and 1200 pictures taken from a summer trip to England, I am swimming in Blog Security. I don't think I'll run out of material for awhile.

Must post to make my November 1st deadline.
Happy NaBloPoMo!

Awakening

And here we are again, on November 1st.

Because I have a love of Internet graphics coupled with a desire to fit in with the popular crowd, I'm participating in the annual National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo) writing exercise, which is a poor-man's (or busy woman's) answer to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).

November 1st is also All-Saints or All-Souls Day, a day where the departed are remembered. It's also the first full day of gorging after Halloween, Saturday night Halloween party night, College football Saturday night, and the day stores can stop apologizing for having Christmas decorations and display (that have been there since August...who are we kidding?).

I spent some time today cleaning up my blog. I checked links, deleted a few, and added several. I removed programs that had ceased to exist, and just tried to spiff the whole thing up a little bit. Although I always read my blogs via Bloglines, today I clicked through every link from my blog page. I have to admit that although RSS feeders are much more time efficient, there was something entirely pleasing about going to the actual page and looking at the Blog design: colors and graphics and everything that made a blog personal. I've missed that personal connection that an actual page has, and I think over the next few months I'm going to make a point of spending less time on the RSS reader and more time on the actual page.

Once again, it's been awhile since I've posted with any sort of regularity, and I'm not going to apologize, but my excuse is neither new nor exciting: I've been busy. But I'm excited to dust things off and start writing again, which tells me that my time off has been good. With a teenager, two cats, two jobs, a fifteen year old car, a house and garden in a constant state of upheaval and change, and 1200 pictures taken from a summer trip to England, I am swimming in Blog Security. I don't think I'll run out of material for awhile.

Must post to make my November 1st deadline.
Happy NaBloPoMo!

Tuesday Night Debate Highlight

Love It.


And in case you're wondering what that means, maybe you missed this:

Tuesday Night Debate Highlight

Love It.


And in case you're wondering what that means, maybe you missed this:

For those who may have missed it

Click on the image for slightly larger version.

For those who may have missed it

Click on the image for slightly larger version.

Five Friends, Uncensored

You know you have to register, right?

Five Friends, Uncensored

You know you have to register, right?