Monthly Archives: November 2009

Fighting a cold

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I hate being sick!!

My Favorite Domer burned the candle at both ends when he first got to Notre Dame and wound up with a big-time cold. He felt rotten for a few days, but thank heaven, he’s young and strong, and his body quickly fought the virus off.

I didn’t catch his cold, but I caught somebody’s — and whoever you are, I’m NOT happy about it!

Why can’t you sick people stay home like all the health experts suggest? No, you’ve just got to run to the store, the shopping mall, church — everywhere but where you should be, which is safely tucked away in your home (or a doctor’s office). How can the rest of us stay healthy when you’re out spreading your germs, sneezing, coughing, sputtering, and all that? You’d think you’d want to stay home when you feel ill — I certainly do.

When I’m sick, don’t expect me to be out hunting bargains at the department stores; don’t expect me to “share” my germs with everybody else, hoping that, if I pass my illness on, I won’t have it any more.

Rather, you’ll find me taking it easy, sipping lots of water and hot tea, sucking on cough drops, making some chicken noodle soup (yes, it really works!), and getting more rest.

It’s inconvenient (at best) to have a cold. Your throat is scratchy, your nose is runny and stopped-up at at the same time, your head feels like it’s full of cotton. You can’t think clearly, let alone write coherently, and don’t even bother trying to balance your check book! I take care of myself — humidifier in bedroom, eat right, exercise, sleep, annual flu shot — but even people healthy as horses can’t always fight off germs that are blown right at them.

So the next time you’re sick, do the rest of us a favor and stay home. As for me, I’ll just take my crabby self back to bed!

 

Winterizing

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This is the time of year when we Midwesterners prepare our homes, and ourselves, for the coming Winter months.

We browse through the Farmer’s Almanac, hoping to learn whether we’ll be in for lots of snow and ice, or whether it will be a mild Winter. We service our cars so we won’t get stranded on some lonely road in the middle of nowhere. We get our flu shots (or take our chances without!), load up on canned goods, and mentally prepare ourselves to dig in and hibernate, perhaps with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book!

When I was younger and living in an apartment in the South, it wasn’t a big deal to winterize. Weeks wouldn’t go by when you couldn’t get out of your own parking lot. All we had to do was hang a few Christmas decorations, and we were ready for the season. Not so living in a house in the Midwest.

One thing on the “must-do” list now is to call the heating/air conditioning company and have your furnaces checked — you don’t want to be without heat in sub-freezing temps!

You’ve also got to pull up the remains of the garden (it’s no longer producing veggies anyway) and look over the outside flowers to determine which (if any!) can be brought inside and babied until Spring.

Then there’s the outside furniture and grill; they’re cleaned and relegated to storage. And, once the farmers have harvested their corn and soybeans, you might want to wash the dust off the windows of your house. I say might because, while my mom is a firm believer in this practice, I rank it up there with leaf-raking (a pointless waste of time!)

Which reminds me — you do have to do something with all those leaves. Some communities have huge leaf vacs to suck them from curbside (where residents have raked them); others recommend bagging them for citywide pickup and disposal. You also can run them over with a mulching mower and let them naturally decompose. Whatever, it’s just not neighborly to let them blow from one yard to the next and hope somebody else’s fence row will catch them!

You’ve got to get out the storm doors, clean them, and put them up in place of the screened ones, which then must be stored. Oh, and don’t forget to clean the leaves out of your gutters before they turn into soggy, nasty, black things that nobody would want to touch! If you have a fireplace, you’ll probably want to have it checked (yes, there are such folks as chimney sweeps, and they do even get rid of unwanted animal nests!)

I like to give my Sheltie a nice bath while it’s still sunny and warm enough to dry him outside. With all his profusion of fur, no way do I want to be drying that coat of his indoors — and making more work for myself!

After all this, then you can hang the Christmas decorations, toast some marshmallows, make a pot of tea, and snuggle down with a thick novel!

 

Lifelong learning

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Let’s get one thing out of the way upfront — I’m not a Notre Dame alum.

Heaven knows, I wish I were, but all I am is the mom of a Domer — that, and a huge fan!! Shoot, I’ve even considered the possibility of enrolling in, say, the Graduate Program in Creative Writing, just so I could be a Domer, too!

I’ve always had a passion for education. I was one of those “weird” kids who simply loved school, not just because my friends were there but because in school, you learned stuff. I love the smell and feel of a book; I love being able to string words together so when folks read them, they go, “Yeah!”

When I was a kid, every week in the summer I’d go to the Library and check out a stack of books — as many as I could carry — then hurry home and immerse myself in wonderful, magical stories. Even today, there’s nothing better than getting lost in a novel and forgetting there’s a world with problems outside.

My undergrad education was at Ole Miss, the University of Mississippi (Go Rebels!!), and my feelings for Alma Mater run oh so deep. I had a four-year Band scholarship, so participating in halftime shows and supporting the Red-and-Blue became deeply ingrained. Perhaps it’s the growing-up one does during the four years between 18 and 22; perhaps it’s the friends one makes at college. Whatever, I (and most of my fellow Rebs) feel an intense pride, unwavering loyalty, and profound gratitude to Ole Miss.

As the late Frank E. Everett Jr. (a UM alum) put it: “The University is respected, but Ole Miss is loved. The University gives a diploma and regretfully terminates tenure, but one never graduates from Ole Miss.”

When My Favorite Domer was in elementary school, I returned to college (community college, this time) to pursue a new career in Web Design. I found, to my surprise, that I was an even better student than during my first go-round as an undergrad. I seemed to have an intuitive awareness of what material was important for me to learn, how to study and budget my time, how to access the help I needed, and I wasn’t afraid to approach my instructors, spend time in their offices, and soak up their advice.

 

Today’s buzzwords are “lifelong learning.” Yep, I’m a firm believer in that. As a Web Designer and Writer, I often run into something I’m unfamiliar with, and I constantly find myself having to learn new code and techniques or new ways of solving old problems. I pity people who don’t find learning enjoyable, or who think that once they’ve got a sheepskin, they’re finished.

So, while right now I can’t justify returning to academia for another degree, don’t count me out — I just might, one day!

Shoes

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It all started with a simple question: “Do you need anything?”

My Favorite Domer said he needs a pair of shoes. Have you ever tried to buy shoes for a teenager who’s not with you to try them on — or help pick them out? Trust me, you don’t want to!

MFD said he wants tennis shoes. Not the “fashionable” kind with lightweight mesh covering the foot; not the kind with gaudy colors — just “basic” sneakers. The kind that hold up in the cold and wet weather that predominates northern Indiana at this time of year.

I’ll probably end up visiting every shoe store within an hour’s radius, looking for the “perfect pair” of shoes. We moms don’t mind, though, do we?

You know, it’s hard enough finding shoes for myself. For some odd reason, women’s shoes just plain aren’t comfortable. Now, I’m not talking about slippers or sneakers here; I’m referring to dress shoes.

Which idiot designed those pointy-toed stilettoes with 5-inch heels? I ask you, does that kind of shoe look like any woman’s foot you’ve ever seen? And who can walk in those things? If you have to sway when you’re standing to keep your balance and wobble like a drunk when you’re walking, well that’s not my idea of dignity and class!

And how about those flat-soled, sueded, furry boots the kids have all grabbed up this season and last? Sure, they’re cute, but I wonder how practical they are in typical boot-weather of rain and snow? Of course, if you’re living in the Deep South, no problem — wear ’em and be cute!

But even flip-flops aren’t comfortable, not for me anyway. I never could stand having that rubbery thing between my big toe and second toe. It does nothing but chafe and rub blisters; shoot, even the flapping sound those things make when you walk gets annoying after a while!

I used to wear dress shoes — every day — and loved them. I had a closet full of at least 3-inch heels — in all the practical colors — and I never had achy feet when I slipped them off at day’s end. I wore cowboy boots, too — again, with heels and pointed toes; no problems. So when did all this change?

I refuse to blame it on age. There are countless women my age (and older!) who wear these uncomfortable shoes daily and seem to have no issues with them. And really, would the designers, manufacturers, and sellers keep churning out these things if there was no market for them? I don’t think so.

If truth be told, I suspect my changing opinion occurred when I started working for myself. At last, I could wear what I wanted to, when I wanted to! If I wanted to go barefoot, who would know? What freedom!

So most days now, you’ll find me in the most comfortable shoes available — my own feet, some next-to-nothing chocolate-brown moccasins I got at Land’s End, or my sneakers. Only if I have a client meeting outside my office or a funeral to attend will I succomb to the agony of wearing dressy shoes.

After all, if your feet hurt, how can you expect to do your best work??

Celebrating Death

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This isn’t going to be an easy day — shoot, it’s not going to be an easy month!

November typically is the time when we Catholics honor/celebrate/remember our deceased loved ones, starting with All Saints Day on the first and then All Souls Day on the second. The idea is that, by recalling and praying for our faithful dead on Nov. 2, we acknowledge them as still being members of our Church, alive in Christ, and never far from our hearts.

In some countries (Mexico, for instance), Day of the Dead celebrations are joyful ones, with special foods and colorful altars. Other countries hold to the folk belief that souls are released from Purgatory for one day and allowed to return to earth; consequently, some families leave a window open or set a place at table for their dead family members. Still others visit graves, sometimes with picnics. You can read more here: www.fisheaters.com/customstimeafterpenticost12ac.html

Last year at this time, I sailed blissfully through this holiday. Death hadn’t touched my family — other than elderly grandparents and some distant relatives — and, while we attended the required Church services and recited the prayers, it was all more of a ritual than anything else. Not so today.

This past Dec. 31, we lost my dad after a courageous three-year battle with esophageal cancer. Yes, he smoked cigarettes; yes, he drank liquor; and yes, according to his doctor, those bad habits were what killed him.

So tonight, we’ll go to Church carrying a picture of Daddy that will be left on a memorial table for the entire month. We’ll participate in a candle-lighting ceremony, recite the prayers, shed some tears, and probably hug each other a bit longer and tighter. We’ll also try to be kinder and more patient with others.

It’s what Daddy would have wanted.

 

 

 

Writing

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It’s been almost a month now since I attended an Editors’ Intensive, sponsored by Writer’s Digest at their Cincinnati headquarters. To say it was a wonderful experience doesn’t cover the half of it!

Writing can be a lonely occupation. Those uninformed folks who announce they love to write and they’re “working on a book” just don’t have a clue. While there are as many “types” of writers as there are books, magazines, poems, Web sites, etc., and while there are many personalities of writers, this isn’t a business for the faint-of-heart. You really have to believe in your craft and your talent; you have to steel yourself against the criticisms and rejections that surely come your way; you have to spend a lot of time working when others are tugging at you to play. And most of us have to do it all while pursuing gainful employment elsewhere AND raising a family!

How’s that for sacrifice?

Still, for me at least, writing is as necessary as breathing. I’ve been putting down my thoughts since I was able to hold a pencil — first, in silly rhymes, then in a multitude of essay contests, diaries, newspaper stories, short stories, and now, novels. The first time I was able to type “The End” after penning a novel-length work was a feeling I’ll never forget! It reminded me of something I read in one of Mary Higgins Clark’s mysteries — “The work is finished; now let the writer play”, or something to that effect.

Of course, we writers can’t “play” long. Some story is always noodling around, and when it starts screaming to get out, you know it’s back to the computer and back to work.

One of the interesting things about our writing conference was the camaraderie that comes when you’re in a group of like-minded people. Just to know there are others like you — people who live in two worlds, people for whom storytelling is an art and there’s no such thing as a yes/no conversation — well, it’s a relief! It’s going to be even more interesting to watch the progress of our group, to see who continues when the going gets tough, to be able to go into Barnes & Noble one day, pick up a new book, and say, “Wow, I know this author!”

Most of us conference-attendees now have added blogging to our daily routines (at the encouragement of the Writer’s Digest staff, of course!). At first, I was a little reluctant — I mean, who really wants the public to read your private thoughts? But as I’ve gotten more into the spirit of the thing, I’ve found that blogging truly helps me organize my ideas and kind of serves as a “warm-up” for my fiction writing. It eases me out of the “blank page quandary” that many writers face, forcing me to shun the excuse of “writer’s block.”

In fact, a dear friend gave me a wooden pen & pencil holder with the words “Writer’s Block” prominently displayed on the side; that’s what she, and now I, think about “block.”

Basically, it just comes down to what all of us –deep down — know. Put your butt in the chair and don’t get up until you’ve written something. Do that often enough, and you’ll become a better writer. Do that consistently, and you might get published. Do that, and who knows? You might get to meet Oprah!!