Yet another blog entry about 9/11/01

I'm sure there must be thousands of blogs today about 9/11. People's remembrances and tributes, thoughts and suppositions. I remember that day, not because it was so tragic, but because of the changes it brought in my life. We were bustling to get my middle child and (then) husband out the door for work and school. I had just started homeschooling our oldest child. I was scrambling to get a shirt ironed when Dan yelled at me to get in here now. He did that often when there was an "interesting to him" news story on the radio. I was annoyed because I was trying to get them ready for school. I came storming into the living room to see one of the WTC towers smoking and then this other airplane out of nowhere flew into the other tower. I was in shock. Why would someone do something like that? I had just witnessed hundreds of people die on live TV. I thought for a moment that I should keep my daughter home to protect her, but decided that she would be safer at school.

Boy was I wrong. The teacher, not wanting to miss anything, had kept CNN running the entire day. These little kindergarten babies were subjected to that awful day just so the teacher could be kept informed. I tried to go about my day as normally as I could. I took my son to swim lessons and ran to the grocery store for a few items we were needing. Did laundry and ironed shirts. I spoke on the phone to several people, but I just couldn't escape the tragedy. My older daughter was glued to the TV as well. She couldn't believe that people could do something so horrible. She watched all the news reports as the Pentagon was crashed into and when the plane went down in Pennsylvania. That afternoon I remembered that I had friends whose husbands worked at those towers and made calls to them. One husband had the flu and hadn't gone to work. The other husband had gone to work. He was missing and never found. I couldn't imagine the emptiness and pain that she felt that day. She watched in live TV as the second plane went into the building where her husband worked.

I remember feeling anger that day. Anger at the president for not making a response sooner. Anger at the school for not protecting my baby from that kind of media. Anger at the terrorists for causing this whole tragedy. Anger at myself for watching it all day for 3 days. Anger at the media for portraying the tragedy so vividly.

I also felt sadness. Sadness that we lost so many people in a jihad's act of war. Sadness that my baby girl wasn't as innocent as when she left for school. Sadness at the changes that our world was thrown into because of the actions of a few people. Sadness at feeling helpless.

The one thing that made it all seem real, though, was the absence of air traffic over our house. We were along one of the main landing patterns for the airport and were used to planes flying overhead all day. For 4 days we had no noise at all. No planes, nothing. Just silence all day. This sound that had been annoying when we first moved in had suddenly become missed after a year and a half of hearing the roar of jet engines.

And here we are 5 years later. How our world has changed. We are in a war that has no relationship to 9/11 even though our president told us it did. We still have soldiers in Afghanistan who were supposed to be home years ago. We still haven't been able to capture the ringleader of this organisation despite the fact that he is on kidney dialysis! We still have fears of flying and still don't feel safe in our own country. We still shudder when a plane flies over us. And, for some really weird reason, we are still being led by one of the most dishonest and shady presidents this country has ever had. He has an approval rating that is as low as Hoover's yet he was re-elected!

I've heard commentators say that "at least al-qaeda didn't succeed." Oh but they did. They accomplished exactly what they wanted. They threw this country into a state of fear, chaos, war, and unable to trust our fellow man. They made us question every person with dark skin and hair who even looks remotely Middle Eastern. If that wasn't the success of an act of terror I don't know what is.

I caught myself this morning flipping channels and getting stuck on one channel's rebroadcast of 9/11. And then it struck me. I was living in that fear that these terrorists died to create and I turned the TV over to my son so he could watch cartoons. I've decided not to watch TV today. To make this my last post about that fateful day and to live this day joyfully in honor and respect of those that can't.

Peace y'all!

One of those "ding ding ding" moments

You know what kind of moment I'm talking about. When you've seen something or heard something that sounds familiar. It nags at you all day, maybe even for a few days or weeks and then suddenly in the middle of the night the "ding ding ding" goes off when you remember what it was that was so familiar. I had one of those moments this weekend. When I went to the bookstore on Friday to fill out all my paperwork to start working I was met by a man who looked eerily familiar. His name even fit. But the connection was totally missing. Where did I know him? How could his voice, name and image be so familiar? Then it dawned on me "ding ding ding." I knew this guy in college. We only went to college together for one year, but we were fairly good friends. He was/is(?) gay and we hung out together. We would go shopping together and point out cute guys and gals to each other. We would go to the bar together and drink vodka Collins and talk about loves gained and lost. We would spend hours listening to music and singing along with Linda Ronstadt on her Lush Life album (if that doesn't date me!) And then whoosh there he is. Haven't seen him in 20 years. I've changed a lot. He hasn't changed that much. We were both in theatre together and both hung out with the same crowd. It will be interesting to see where conversations lead.

I hate moments like that though. When something is just so familiar but you can't put your finger on why. They are almost like deja vu moments but not. They aren't memories that have yet to happen, they are absences of being able to remember something from your past correctly. Deja vu would be if I had remembered walking with him down the aisles to the back of the store. But just not remembering where you knew someone is different. Sometimes makes you feel senile! And I feel way too young for that. :)

I start work tomorrow. Not sure if I will see this guy or not. Not even sure who I am supposed to check in with or where I am supposed to go or even where I am supposed to put my purse! I guess I'll figure it all out tomorrow. Training will commence. I wonder after a few days if my friend from the past will look at me and have one of those "ding ding ding" moments. I'll be sure to report.

May I help you?

I guess I'm going to be saying that a lot from now on. I've just accepted a job at a bookstore and I suppose I will be doing a lot of smiling and helping. That's a good thing. I like helping people and I like books. People keep telling me that I am not going to make any money working in a bookstore, but I don't see where that is going to be a problem. I need the money, so I'm certainly not going to spend it!

I have to say that was the second easiest job I have ever gotten. (The first being when my mom begged me to come work for her.) The interviewer didn't ask me one question about my work history. She just looked at my resume and said, "Oh you were a librarian. OK, go home and fill out the information for the background check and I'll call you when it comes back about when you would like to start." Yesterday I went to the store and got set up with payroll and got my cashier code and password. I should hear today or tomorrow when I can actually start.

It's only part time. Something to help bring in a bit more money and at the same time give me a few "free" hours away from my kids. I haven't given up on my Pampered Chef business, but it just isn't as lucrative as I had hoped. I do great shows, but I suck at getting bookings. For some reason I lack some quality that is needed to book shows. As much as I like cooking and being "on stage" I just can't seem to sell myself. So now I am going to sell books. Should be much easier. When people come to a PC show they usually come because they were invited and I truly have to sell them cookware. But when someone comes to a bookstore, they are coming after reading material. They made the initiative to come to the store to buy something. I just have to help them find the right book. It's a different approach to sales. They know they want something. I just have to find the right something.

The Joy of Sox!

Yes; overused and tired pun, but it is so true. Yesterday I finished yet another pair of knit socks. They are scrumptuously delicious in both feel and looks! My kids say that they look like a bowl of Fruit Loops because they are all "Lemon Yellow, Lime Green, Orange Orange, Cherry Red, and Grape Purple" I used KnitPicks' Dancing in Tap and made the Caruso socks at Knitty. They feel so comfy on my feet. They snug them like a warm soft hug from a long lost friend.

Maybe that is what I like about socks. They are these nice warm hugs to your feet. I've always loved socks. I've always collected odd socks, groovy socks, decorative socks, funky socks, pretty socks. But now that I've started knitting my own socks I have an even deeper relationship with this garment. They are something that I have made. Something that I have labored over and created. These beautiful unique socks which no one else will have the same. They are MINE and fit ME and only ME! When I put them on there is a certain happiness and fullfillment that I never got from putting on a pair of socks bought at Target. They bring me joy, so I keep knitting socks.

Now I am making some for Emily. They are soft basic footy socks in KP's Merino Style in Cornflower. The yarn is so soft. I'm hoping to get her to enjoy the luxury of a nice hand knit sock. Mary Elayne already has a pair so I suppose the next person will be Keon. I have some funky sock yarn I bought somewhere that will make him a nice pair of rainbow socks. Hopefully he won't lose them or wear them outside without shoes or go stomping in mudpuddles. Oh who cares, as long as he is joyful about sox!

Math or Living in the world without a "math education"

The topic for the October Unschooling Voices Carnival is about math. How does one "live math?" I would counter that in how could one not live math? I use math every day. I use it to see if I have enough money in my checking account for all the things that my budget needs to pay for. I use math when I make a card for a friend and am cutting layers so they will stack nicely. I use math when I am cooking or baking to make sure that the ingredients will all come together to be tasty - proportions. I use math when I am driving and am wondering if I am going to make it to the next gas station if the "estimated miles" says that I have 12 miles left until I am empty. I do math when I am sewing. I do math when I am knitting. I do math when I'm building Legos with my son.

So how does one comprehend math if one doesn't have lessons? I'm not quite sure. LOL!! Seriously, I have never given my son a math lesson. We've talked about numbers. We've counted his money from his piggy bank together. We've calculated whether he has enough money to purchase a new toy or deck of Magic Cards. We've grown a garden together and figured out how many plants we can grow per square foot. We've wrapped gifts for family members and friends together and had to come up with creative ways to wrap a gift when it was an odd size or we had a limited amount of paper. We've cooked together and doubled or tripled recipes because we knew we had a huge gathering to attend and wanted to make plenty. We didn't do any of those things in order to use math. I didn't set out to teach a lesson by counting his money. The purpose (the sole purpose) or counting his money was to find out how much he had. In the process he probably learned a bit about math. So here is this kid who has never had a single math lesson in his life yet he understands the concept of manipulating numbers because he has seen them in action. He walked up to me about a year ago when he was just seven and said, "Mommy, if I have 8 groups of 4 things then I would have 32 things, right?" A bit later that same day he came to me and said, "Mommy, if I have 33 quarters and they are 25¢ each then I would have $8.25 since." After doing a bit of math myself I realized he was correct. So then he says, "But I need 40 quarters to make a roll so I'm going to need another 7 quarters." Ah-ha, now I know what he is talking about. He had seen me rolling quarters from our change jar earlier that week (which we do as our Disney shopping money) and realized that he, too, wanted rolls of quarters. Here he was joyfully collecting quarters, using math, not knowing it, but totally understanding it.

My grandfather never graduated from high school. He did go to Emory University (for dentistry) when he was a young man, but preferred railroads, honky tonks and carpentry to teeth, so quit that as well. Here was this "undereducated man" who really was quite brilliant. He understood math because it was something he used everyday. He could figure out an angle and complimentary angle in his head. I'd see him doodling numbers when building things as he worked through how much plywood he needed for a certain project. He could almost instantly figure out what a cut was from a measurement if he had a board that was 3/4 of an inch thick and there would be 3 pieces butting up against each other in a corner. He could stretch a sheet of particle board until there were pieces of no bigger than my hand leftover. And he could figure out how much concrete he would need to build a house that was 900 square feet if it needed a foundation that was at least 15" and was on a grade that was 9°. This wasn't stuff he learned in school. This was what he learned through living his life in a world where math was important.

Very few of us will ever need "upper mathematics." I can't think of a time in my life when I have needed to know the cosine of a number or the co-efficiency of something. I feel I have learned more about numbers and using them since leaving school and dealing with real life. Why shouldn't we think that our children will learn those things as well? There is a great scene in the movie "Freaky Friday" where the mom (who is in the body of her daughter) is taking a test for her and reads a question that deals with pi. She's thinking to herself, "Pi? I don't need pi. I've never used pi. Anna is never going to use pi." Math is taught in school in such a way that it is accessible to every child just in case one child might need that upper math for a degree in electrical engineering. In the end, does it really matter if you make an A+ in trigonometry as long as you can cut a pie into 8 equal pieces? That's the kind of pi(e) I like!

Birthday Day

Today is my "Boo's" eleventh birthday. I look at the tall willowy graceful child and wonder what happened to the roly poly little baby that I once had. Her baby fine "sticky-up" downy soft blonde hair is now dyed black with purple overtones. The little girl who would only wear pink and purple now lives in black and fantasizes about the day she can pierce her belly button. Her birthday wish list consisted of skull necklaces, a grunge/punk band's CD, and a gift certificate to Hot Topic. Despite her gothness she is still my ever-optimistic Boo. She wears this gothness like a persona and delights in how it sets people off when they see her mother supporting her need for more black velvet in her life.

She makes me feel old, though. Somehow Emily turning 14 in November doesn't impact me as much as Mary Elayne turning 11 today. I still am amazed that she is ELEVEN and wonder where the time went. I want to hit a rewind button and go watch or live it again. I feel like I missed something while she was busy growing up. I watch her do cartwheels all over the place and wonder when I missed the transition point from doing "baby cartwheels" to "real cartwheels." Somewhere I missed a growth spurt because it seemes like one day she was quite short and now she is looming closer and closer to my height.

So happy birthday, Boo. Happy birthday to my bouncing baby girl that I swore was going to be a boy and proved me all wrong. Happy birthday to the sweetest velvet goth in the world (but don't worry I won't tell the world and hardly anyone reads my blog anyway!)

Fritz and Chesster

My son has expressed an interest in learning to play chess. Cool! I was in the chess club in junior high. OK, I was in the chess club in junior high because I hung out with the geeky guys and they thought it was cool that a girl wanted to be in the chess club. It had nothing with my ability to actually play chess. So after setting up the board and teaching the primary moves of each player I drew a blank. Thanks to another homeschooling friend, I found Fritz and Chesster learn to play chess.

It finally arrived yesterday. This "game" is so cool that Keon played with it for 5 hours straight. Now he is teaching his sister using it. And I'm learning chess again sort of by the fact that I'm in the same room where the game is being played. It actually teaches strategy and move combinations. I'm really impressed. Not only is it fun to play (at least for the kids) but also good in helping the kids understand many of the nuances that I never picked up on while hanging out with the geeky guys.

I highly recommend it!