Teachers

I just heard an interview on the BBC where the subject was encouraging people to find and thank teachers who may have inspired you.

Coincidentally, I ran into one of my high school teachers while grocery shopping in early December. Mrs. Roberson taught World History to sophomores and Current Events to seniors, and I had her for both. I did not dislike her back then, but I dreaded her classes because she had a tendency to ask questions of everyone in class, and I was terrified of speaking up in class all through high school. In the current events class, we read the newspaper and discussed all things going on in the world, and she would have a quiz once a week. Whoever answered the most questions correctly received extra credit points. I didn't understand why current events were important, and although I occasionally got a question right having to do with entertainment or pop culture, I never won the quiz.

She must be in her late 60's now, but still looks great and is still substitute teaching. I told her that I started listening to NPR in college, and think all the time about how I could win that quiz of hers every week now. I said that even though you don't realize it while back in school, after time goes by you remember the really great teachers, and that she was one of the few teachers I learned something from. She got a kick out of hearing that. She has some fantastic ideas about fixing public education, but no one is really listening to her, which is a shame.

I thought about teaching for awhile, but have changed my mind. I still think it's one of the most important professions because you are molding kids for the future. It's probably also a very rewarding career choice because you can actually see the result of your efforts. But I don't think I could live up to the standards Mrs. Roberson has set in this world of "teaching to the test". I really have respect for the good ones who could stand up in front of a bunch of smart-mouthed teenagers and still manage to get something to penetrate our thick skulls.

Lights Out

I was sitting in the rocker reading Gabriel his beautiful new edition of Goodnight Moon (thanks Tia Sandie) for the first time yesterday around 4 pm. Jav had run out to mail some stuff. We had just finished the book and were sitting very quietly listening to the rain, when a huge flash and the loudest pop I've ever heard seemingly hit right outside his bedroom window. It was like an explosion. Then the power went out. I went to let the dogs in, thinking that something outside might even be on fire. I looked outside and didn't see any flames or smoke, and breathed a sigh of relief. As I was trying to calm my way-too-rapid pulse, two freaked out dogs, several nervous cats and one slightly fussy baby, I busied myself with stumbling all over the house to find first a flashlight, then the electric bill so that I could call to report an outage, then my cell phone. While I was on the ridiculously long call, where I was finally told they knew about the outage and power would be restored by 6 (only an estimate, of course), the city siren started going off.

Well, last time we had a bad storm and that happened, Jav and I realized that we have no inside room to hide out in if a tornado ever is coming our way. We have one tiny hall closet, and the larger closet in Gabriel's room. That's it. So first of all, how are we going to fit humans and pets in these spaces? Secondly, how do you catch four cats when they know you are freaked out so they have decided to hide in places in your house that you don't even know exist? It dawned on me yesterday that all we can really do is pray that it never happens.

I called my parents to find out why the siren was going off, and by then Jav was home. We called George and Billie next door, and found out their power was on. We could see that everyone across the street still had power. We lit candles and prepared for a long night, figuring that the power company had bigger problems to fix other than our one little house. Gabriel fell asleep early (6), and we were sure he wouldn't last long without the dull roar of his humidifier. But the wonderful repair guys showed up around 7pm. They said they had to go into our backyard to see what happened and hopefully fix it. So while I tried to distract two dogs very quietly from noticing that strangers were trampling all over their territory, the men very quickly determined where the lightning had hit (where the line from the pole attaches to our house) and fixed it. Truly heroic people, who travel around in lightning and rain to fix other people's electrical problems. Whatever they make, it isn't enough.

"I am a lineman for the county..." It's going on my Ipod tomorrow.

An award-winning smile.

One of our warm November days on the back porch 

Tired after dancing around to the music from Charlie Brown Christmas 

Songs that transport me

The reason I started thinking about this has to do with my previous post about quitting my job. I was about to leave the house to drive to work and do this very profound thing, and I wanted to listen to some music so I wouldn't be so nervous. For some reason, I remembered what CD I was listening to the day I had my interview 10 years ago (Eric Johnson - Venus Isle), so I thought it would be fitting to listen to the same thing as I drove over to end my time there. It really had an effect on me to realize how much my life has changed in the past 10 years. But I also realized that music is my catalyst for memories. Some people remember what they were wearing at key moments in their lives; I remember what was on the radio.

I think I drive people crazy when we go to restaurants because I can't tune out the piped in mix of music in the background. I always stop in the middle of someone's conversation and say, "good song!" I actually wondered at one point if there was some type of career in making mixes for different restaurants to set the mood. I think I would be REALLY good at this, but I have yet to find out how to get into this very small niche.

I guess I just think music is very important, and can trigger so many different emotional responses. When I have been going through very tough times, I have a tendency to stop listening to music because it makes me very emotional. I remember when our dog Spencer finally succumbed to cancer, there was a Phil Collins song from the Disney Tarzan movie that was playing alot, and I couldn't listen to that song without thinking about Spencer and tearing up. In fact, I still can't.

When I discovered the Buena Vista Social Club outstanding CD of traditional Cuban music, I remember listening to it all the way through for the first time with my Mom driving down to Fredericksburg. We both realized how much my grandfather would have loved the music. Now I can't listen to it without thinking of him and imagining him humming along, or without thinking about that trip with my Mom and how much fun we always have on our road trips.

I won't ever be able to listen to a Carole King song again without thinking of Mom's surprise (sort of) birthday trip and seeing her live. Every time I listen to my Bread CD I think of my Dad, the smell of coffee and lazy Sunday mornings.

When I hear old-school country, especially Buck Owens, I think of Saturday nights at Nana and Papa's house. He would let me ride on his shins like a horse while he watched Hee Haw and Porter Waggoner.

And now, when I dance around the room with Gabriel (something I've discovered puts him to sleep faster and better than any other tactic), I realize I'm combining old memories of much beloved songs with making brand new ones. And even though none of his great grandparents ever got to hold him, they're smiling at the part they're getting to play in his life.

What-no engraved clock?

I am officially unemployed. I quit my job of 10 years last week after deciding that I would be a much happier person without it. Jav is a most wonderful husband to support me in this decision, but he above everyone else knows that I have been unhappy there for a couple of years now.

The owner of the company has always been great to me. He's bought us very generous wedding, housewarming and baby gifts. He's let me borrow company vehicles if one of ours was in the shop. He's approved raises and bonuses for me since I've worked there. But we had some issues about cash flow, and those differences of opinion made my job next to impossible most of the time.

My boss also has been wonderful to work for. She has always treated me with great respect and made me feel like my opinion about company issues really mattered. But we became good friends during the last 10 years, which complicated things in our work relationship.

I had already been out for 2-1/2 months of my 3 month maternity leave when I decided to quit. I tried to make things a little better by offering to work part-time to serve out a two-weeks notice, and even to help train my replacement. They were supposed to think about it and call me. Instead I got a letter saying thanks, but no thanks because you have left us in a bind, but good luck with your new life (not verbatim, but that was the gist of it).

I went up to say goodbbye to everyone and turn in my keys on Thursday. It made me a little sad - there are some really nice people who work there and I will miss them. Everybody was thrilled to meet Gabriel and wanted me to come back and visit often, except for the owner, who could barely look me in the eye and didn't even get up to hug me.

I guess I'm feeling as slighted as they are. After 10 years of working there, with the last 6 dealing with horrible cash flow issues in which the company was never slowed down with vendors refusing to ship because of my juggling of funds, and two years of paying off our bank line of credit with even more juggling, I felt like I at least deserved a hug goodbye and a little more understanding about wanting to be a stay-at-home Mom.

I will not miss the feeling of absolute dread I had started having every Monday morning at the beginning of each new work week. I will not miss having to field calls from angry vendors that we owed money to, or making sure I jotted down exactly when I told people I would pay them. I will not miss having my requests for better payment terms with vendors ignored, or salespeople giving special long terms to customers. I will not miss office politics and gossip.

I guess the only things I'll miss is some of the people and a paycheck.

Besides, I have a much more important job now, one that I enjoy more than anything I've ever done before because of that importance.

Baby talk

Gabriel, who turned 10 weeks old this week, has his own made up vocabulary already. It involves at least 10 or 15 words, half of them said with the use of his tongue. But make no mistake, he is saying sentences. He raises his eyebrows with certain words for emphasis, and says some louder than others. And he uses this Gabrielese to talk to anyone he happens to meet, whether it be in human form, or his bouncy seat animals, or the Snoopy characters on his bumper pad. He loves it when you speak this language back to him, and it almost seems as if he's testing me to make sure I'm getting it all.

Babies are amazing.

Religious rant

I am upset with the Catholic Church. This is pretty much a continual thing, although it complicated matters when I decided to convert to Catholicism when I married Jav.

There are facets of the religion that I absolutely love. I love that the Catholic church emphasizes nature and caring for the earth - go St.Francis! The music is always good. I love the actual service itself, especially on days where you have the Latin chanting and the incense. The feeling that you are participating in something that for centuries has led people to feel closer to God is very comforting to me. I like the ancientness (is that a word?) of it all.

But what I don't like is the ancientness of the Catholic ideals. I won't go into why I disagree with the stance on birth control, stem cell research and gay marriage. My rant today falls on a more personal level - regarding picking out future husbands/wives, and raising children.

My annulment was an awful thing for anyone to have to go through. I do not see how the details of my former marriage have anything to do with the current one. I also did not appreciate the feeling of being judged by a group of people who do not even know me, did not know my ex-husband, and do not know my current husband. It was very difficult to dredge up the past, and made worse by the fact that my family and friends, and my ex-husband and his family, had to be dragged into the whole process. But at least the annulment was approved after almost TWO YEARS of waiting. Luckily we didn't wait for this process, and were married by a Lutheran Bishop. I find it slightly amusing but mostly incredible that this did not qualify as a Holy Union in the Catholic Church's eyes.

The latest thing that has me baffled and upset is the rule about Godparents. They have to be Catholic. If you have people you want involved but that aren't Catholic they may only be called a "Christian Witness".

Now, doesn't the whole Christian idea revolve around "Love Thy Neighbor"? I don't think the early Christians meant to convey, "Love Thy Neighbor, unless they aren't Catholic, then you must only like them because they really aren't as good as we are." The nerve!

But I guess that's the problem with most religions. I remember when my grandmother pointed out to me the similarities between most major religions - Christianity, Muslim, Hindu. I was still in college, and it really opened my eyes. Since then it really rubs me the wrong way when any one sect tries to stick out their chest and prove that their way is the only way to true salvation. Especially when it's the one I belong to. And I have no idea how to fix the problem.

I told Jav I'm going to start lobbying for a Papal Suggestion Box in the foyer, right next to the Holy Water.

blah blah blah blah

I need for our dogs to understand what I'm saying to them for about the next three years or so. Just like in the Simpsons, when Santa's Little Helper finally starts hearing actual words instead of jibberish and saves himself from the pound. It's not the dogs fault. They're just doing what they've always done, which is to bark like mad at every person, dog, cat, squirrel, possum, branch or floating leaf that comes near our yard. The problem is that their favorite barking place is just outside of Gabriel's bedroom window. And even though he seems mostly oblivious to their barking while awake, they do wake him up during the day from his very infrequent and already short naps. So if I could just get them to understand that we still want them to bark, but only if a person is actually trying to come over, under, or through the fence. Of course, I would never take my dogs to the pound, but it would be nice to quit having to run outside hissing loudly for them to hush, then praising them for being such good watch dogs so they won't stop barking at people altogether.