Butting in.
Not something I really like to do, and certainly not something I am good at. Well, the Hollidayettes might dispute that, but being their mom is my job-just sayin.'
But--'butting in,' 'giving a piece of my mind,' 'sticking my nose in,"--notice how all these idioms refer to the person who purports to Generously Share of his/her perspective? Yes, it seems to echo the often all-too-personal nature of these little social forays.
Another characteristic is that many people don't mind being the Sender of these nuggets, but very, very few of us care to be the Receiver. I would even venture to say that those who can graciously receive a 'butt-in' are likely mature individuals for whom the actual need for such 'verbal encouragement' is rare.
However.
This morning, I found myself compelled to be come a Butt-in-er.
Context: Last week we took the plunge and joined a large local fitness club here, as a family. The purpose is to make an effective investment in our health (especially we two Ancient Hollidays), and to provide a compelling alternative to rampant CP (Couch Potatoism) here at the Circle H Ranch....
This morning, Alina and I were finishing 45 minutes or so of pushing and pedaling (weight machines, cardio machines, etc.....I know, but use your imagination!)
As I wended my way to the upper level to check on my little fitness mate, I found my gaze lighting on two Barely Teens sitting at the vending machine bar area. Not that I go looking for these little scenes. On the contrary. Gack. Yes, a boy and a girl, technically sitting on two stools, but with her knees wedged all the way in between his spread legs...which is better than it COULD have been, but still....
As I strolled back the other way, even less light seemed visible between them, at least to my cursory glance. Gack!
Now, I realize that pre-teens and teens are notorious for having unseemly amounts of sex hormones coursing through their systems at any given moment. I think we've all been there, as kids ourselves and, more scarily, as parents. And there needs to be an outlet for the resulting, um, energy. Any physical exercise has LONG been recognized as an effective and appropriate "release valve." Hmmmm....let me think....we are in a huge health club....HELLLL-OOO!!!
Perhaps I would be a bit less sensitive to such displays were I not the mother of 2 teenagers, one post-teenager, and one almost-teenager. But, I doubt it. Kids have it hard enough growing up in this numbingly oversexualized culture as it is.
Hence, the butt-in.
I just couldn't take it. So, sending a quick prayer that there would be no snark in my words, I approached the check-in desk and eyed one of the attendants.
"Hi. Uh, I just had a question...this is maybe kind of a personal taste issue, but I was, um wondering...if there was any kind of policy or anything about kids, like, sitting on top of each other right over there in the vending machine bar..."
Eyebrows arch. Mildly embarrassed half-smile.
"Oh, uh, well, if we were to SEE something like that, we would most likely try to say something to them..."
See? Even here, we have a middle-aged mom (that would be moi) and a 20-something responsible-looking facility employee--both made uncomfortable and embarrassed by the hormone-driven behavior of a barely adolescent male and his somewhat-acquiescent little girlfriend. More proof that the reality of ingrained adult authority has been signficantly eroded in this culture. Or so it seems to me.
I smiled back. "Oh, that's good to hear! Thanks so much for that!"
And I shepherded Alina through the door and out to the far more boring landscape of the parking lot.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
DOWNLOAD Differs from DELETE
Download? Delete? Different?
Who knew?
Well, I guess I do now, sort of.
Almost as intense as the near-horror I felt upon discovering my many, treasured e-mails had "vaporized" was my abject relief upon spying them again...albeit in an entirely different File.
I admit it is a bit distressing to realize how distressed I was becominig about this Really Rather Minor in the Whole Scheme of Things cyber-snafu.
Happily, I was contacted today by Ms. Customer Support Brainiac from Comcast whom, I strongly suspect, skims along life at a considerably higher intetellectual altitude than I can imagine. It is good to have these 'hyper-minds' on Our Side!!
Within less than 10 minutes, she led me through a series of buttons and screens...a veritable guided tour of discovery!...and patiently explained, 2 or 3 times!, that my e-mails had not been literally deleted, but that "The Program" [think: wizard behind The Curtain] had been downloading them into a different file, in my case, the Microsoft Outlook e-mail file. Ah-hah.
And, so, why did It think it had the freedom to do that, I queried.
Ms.Brainiac: "Well, ma'am [this proves I'm old] have you ever tried to share an e-mail or something that you found online and send or copy it to another person?"
Hmmmm, well, yes, yes, I believe I may have...delving back mentally to the last time I recall e-mailing a cnn.com news story to someone who probably didn't care to receive it....
"You see, when you do that, ma'am, it opens up a program that essentially downloads your e-mail....it actually takes it off, or downloads it from our Comcast server directly on to your computer. So, those e-mails are not really GONE, but in a different place, so you can't find them where you used to be able to."
Ah-so. Yes, this is starting to sound like a similar pattern to oh-so-many things in my life of late...what my husband's work phone is, why I walked into a room a few minutes ago, where I put my glasses, the place I stashed my last nugget of Secret Chocolate....yes, it's all starting to Resonate.....
Ms. Brain then guided me through Outlook E-mail Account Settings and had me click a check box --"but ONLY the first box, ma'am"-- which was meant to halt this cyber-stealth in its tracks.
I hesitate to mention that after I hung up the phone with her and again entered my SmartZone Comcast inbox, it was...empty. But, it was. However, I smartly reverted over to Outlook, and there all the little darlings were...practically winking at me!!!
All of which causes me to wonder whether it might not be best to just try and bypass the entirely misnamed "Smart"Zone program on general principle. But....once it sensed my own particular electromagnetic "aura"--or whatever it is that it doesn't seem to like about me!--this "fix" would no doubt be overridden also. Sigh.
However, I am still better off than I was last night, and I profusely thanked Ms. Brain for her able assistance.
And, I'm not even going to quibble about the mind-bending logic of how I must reinstate my phantom e-mails back into my proper SmartZone Inbox:
"To do that, ma'am, I'm afraid you'll have to click on those e-mails and Forward those Back to yourself. That's something we can't do from our end."
No comment.
Who knew?
Well, I guess I do now, sort of.
Almost as intense as the near-horror I felt upon discovering my many, treasured e-mails had "vaporized" was my abject relief upon spying them again...albeit in an entirely different File.
I admit it is a bit distressing to realize how distressed I was becominig about this Really Rather Minor in the Whole Scheme of Things cyber-snafu.
Happily, I was contacted today by Ms. Customer Support Brainiac from Comcast whom, I strongly suspect, skims along life at a considerably higher intetellectual altitude than I can imagine. It is good to have these 'hyper-minds' on Our Side!!
Within less than 10 minutes, she led me through a series of buttons and screens...a veritable guided tour of discovery!...and patiently explained, 2 or 3 times!, that my e-mails had not been literally deleted, but that "The Program" [think: wizard behind The Curtain] had been downloading them into a different file, in my case, the Microsoft Outlook e-mail file. Ah-hah.
And, so, why did It think it had the freedom to do that, I queried.
Ms.Brainiac: "Well, ma'am [this proves I'm old] have you ever tried to share an e-mail or something that you found online and send or copy it to another person?"
Hmmmm, well, yes, yes, I believe I may have...delving back mentally to the last time I recall e-mailing a cnn.com news story to someone who probably didn't care to receive it....
"You see, when you do that, ma'am, it opens up a program that essentially downloads your e-mail....it actually takes it off, or downloads it from our Comcast server directly on to your computer. So, those e-mails are not really GONE, but in a different place, so you can't find them where you used to be able to."
Ah-so. Yes, this is starting to sound like a similar pattern to oh-so-many things in my life of late...what my husband's work phone is, why I walked into a room a few minutes ago, where I put my glasses, the place I stashed my last nugget of Secret Chocolate....yes, it's all starting to Resonate.....
Ms. Brain then guided me through Outlook E-mail Account Settings and had me click a check box --"but ONLY the first box, ma'am"-- which was meant to halt this cyber-stealth in its tracks.
I hesitate to mention that after I hung up the phone with her and again entered my SmartZone Comcast inbox, it was...empty. But, it was. However, I smartly reverted over to Outlook, and there all the little darlings were...practically winking at me!!!
All of which causes me to wonder whether it might not be best to just try and bypass the entirely misnamed "Smart"Zone program on general principle. But....once it sensed my own particular electromagnetic "aura"--or whatever it is that it doesn't seem to like about me!--this "fix" would no doubt be overridden also. Sigh.
However, I am still better off than I was last night, and I profusely thanked Ms. Brain for her able assistance.
And, I'm not even going to quibble about the mind-bending logic of how I must reinstate my phantom e-mails back into my proper SmartZone Inbox:
"To do that, ma'am, I'm afraid you'll have to click on those e-mails and Forward those Back to yourself. That's something we can't do from our end."
No comment.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Of Vaporized E-mails...
Greetings to all....and....A RANT WARNING!!!
Having thoroughly established in earlier decades of my life that I am [to all intents and purposes] devoid of a 'left brain,' I find myself ill-equipped to respond to conundrums such as I now face....to wit, the utter and apparently final (and vicious!) vaporization of my entire e-mail Inbox. Gack-and double-gack! What's up with this?
When this same Phlustration occurred at the beginning of May, I was nonplussed, but tried to comfort myself with the realization that my Sent file seemed to be totally intact. Of course, this is like being able to listen to only one side of a phone conversation, but it was, at least, Something.
Now, I readily admit that I will not win any Tidiest Inbox awards; I might more easily qualify for any contest to determine who has proven the greatest Inbox cyber-capacity. Not because I particularly like to wade through oodles of communiques, and I am learning to tighten up my spam filters, but I am deeply afflicted with Classic Aversion to E-mail Deletion; I just like to have communiques between myself and those I care about (read: anyone who wants to write to me whose last name isn't Spam). That is, retain these for at least for a few weeks...sometimes longer.
And, just when I was canoodling on the possibility of using these comparatively unscheduled summer days to review and purge...THIS has to happen. Again. Just last night. Eeeesh.
As with any Stealth Operation, there is no warning, no presentiment that cyber-doom is looming. Nope, you just click your way into SmartZone land (a no-longer hilarious misnomer for our Comcast e-mail program) , intending to check and respond to your daily quota of e-mails, and 'File Empty' bounces out at you.
Somehow, in the past few weeks, I not only found the Actual Phone Number for the Customer Support Service [none of these cutesy little virtual animated "Help" characters for me!], but I wrote it down...in ink...in a place I could find it again. This is progress on my part!
So, I called. It's a Sunday afternoon, so I didn't even have to wait long. A gentleman with a Southern drawl and suspected head cold answered. After a series of questions and answers that, I think, both of us reasonably understood, he tap-tap-tapped his diagnosis of My Issues into a series of help resource screens. In the fullness of time, he pronounced that,
"Ah think yer gonna need a higher fix."
ParDON?
Can this not be resolved by your Very Competent Self and the presumably vast Web resources at your fingertips? Well, no.
"Ya'll need a ticket...so I'm gittin' ya one."
Does this at least entitle me to a latte? Ah, that would be a NO.
Well, what is a ticket anyway, and why do I need one?
Those of you who are more 'Net savvy than Yours Truly--which is probably all of you--will no doubt intuit that this is a means of identifying my SOS call by assigning a Customer Reference number, or CR....[hey, CR also happens to be the secret code my college girlfriends and I used when we suggested to one another that we go out for a Cinnamon Roll at a local dining institution near campus...but, I digress...]
So, within the next 48 hours, I am to expect A Call from a yet-higher echelon of cyber wisdom...and cross my dancing digits that this mess can be put to rights...
Mr. Help and I determined that Something is deleting my Inbox "without yer permission, apparently", despite the fact that my Preferences are set to "Never" delete, my McAfee is up-to-date, Windows Vista is exceedingly more reliable that the old, buggy Windows ME of yore, and that we are running Explorer 8.0.
As if this weren't crazy-making enough, this also seems to be a case of gender bias! Bill's Inbox is entirely intact!! I was already insecure before THIS happened....
In any event, if any of you gentle and long-suffering readers has e-mailed me lately and wondered (hopefully not fumed) at the lack of my response, please know this is the status. Furthermore, Mr. Help pulled no punches and told me it is quite "unlahkly" that I will be able to recover any of the purloined e-mails. Sigh.
Hoping to have better news next time, I remain--
Your Faithful, but Befuddled, Correspondent
Having thoroughly established in earlier decades of my life that I am [to all intents and purposes] devoid of a 'left brain,' I find myself ill-equipped to respond to conundrums such as I now face....to wit, the utter and apparently final (and vicious!) vaporization of my entire e-mail Inbox. Gack-and double-gack! What's up with this?
When this same Phlustration occurred at the beginning of May, I was nonplussed, but tried to comfort myself with the realization that my Sent file seemed to be totally intact. Of course, this is like being able to listen to only one side of a phone conversation, but it was, at least, Something.
Now, I readily admit that I will not win any Tidiest Inbox awards; I might more easily qualify for any contest to determine who has proven the greatest Inbox cyber-capacity. Not because I particularly like to wade through oodles of communiques, and I am learning to tighten up my spam filters, but I am deeply afflicted with Classic Aversion to E-mail Deletion; I just like to have communiques between myself and those I care about (read: anyone who wants to write to me whose last name isn't Spam). That is, retain these for at least for a few weeks...sometimes longer.
And, just when I was canoodling on the possibility of using these comparatively unscheduled summer days to review and purge...THIS has to happen. Again. Just last night. Eeeesh.
As with any Stealth Operation, there is no warning, no presentiment that cyber-doom is looming. Nope, you just click your way into SmartZone land (a no-longer hilarious misnomer for our Comcast e-mail program) , intending to check and respond to your daily quota of e-mails, and 'File Empty' bounces out at you.
Somehow, in the past few weeks, I not only found the Actual Phone Number for the Customer Support Service [none of these cutesy little virtual animated "Help" characters for me!], but I wrote it down...in ink...in a place I could find it again. This is progress on my part!
So, I called. It's a Sunday afternoon, so I didn't even have to wait long. A gentleman with a Southern drawl and suspected head cold answered. After a series of questions and answers that, I think, both of us reasonably understood, he tap-tap-tapped his diagnosis of My Issues into a series of help resource screens. In the fullness of time, he pronounced that,
"Ah think yer gonna need a higher fix."
ParDON?
Can this not be resolved by your Very Competent Self and the presumably vast Web resources at your fingertips? Well, no.
"Ya'll need a ticket...so I'm gittin' ya one."
Does this at least entitle me to a latte? Ah, that would be a NO.
Well, what is a ticket anyway, and why do I need one?
Those of you who are more 'Net savvy than Yours Truly--which is probably all of you--will no doubt intuit that this is a means of identifying my SOS call by assigning a Customer Reference number, or CR....[hey, CR also happens to be the secret code my college girlfriends and I used when we suggested to one another that we go out for a Cinnamon Roll at a local dining institution near campus...but, I digress...]
So, within the next 48 hours, I am to expect A Call from a yet-higher echelon of cyber wisdom...and cross my dancing digits that this mess can be put to rights...
Mr. Help and I determined that Something is deleting my Inbox "without yer permission, apparently", despite the fact that my Preferences are set to "Never" delete, my McAfee is up-to-date, Windows Vista is exceedingly more reliable that the old, buggy Windows ME of yore, and that we are running Explorer 8.0.
As if this weren't crazy-making enough, this also seems to be a case of gender bias! Bill's Inbox is entirely intact!! I was already insecure before THIS happened....
In any event, if any of you gentle and long-suffering readers has e-mailed me lately and wondered (hopefully not fumed) at the lack of my response, please know this is the status. Furthermore, Mr. Help pulled no punches and told me it is quite "unlahkly" that I will be able to recover any of the purloined e-mails. Sigh.
Hoping to have better news next time, I remain--
Your Faithful, but Befuddled, Correspondent
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Miss Cee, the Role Model
Wed., 10 June 2009
QUEEN CEE'S SCHOOL of FEMININE DEPORTMENT: Session X9X
Following is the latest dispatch from the above referenced Institution of Charm and Finishing:
"Pedagogical Theory" versus -
At various and sundry times, you may find yourself in the company of young gentlemen to whom you are Not Related. This can be a Ticklish Situation, but managed properly, and with Discretion and Forethought, you have nothing to fear.
For example, consider the following Real Life Example.
Bouncing down the stairs with your 'Felicity' American Girl doll in your arms, you turn the corner only to find your Youngest Oldest Brother playing host to one of his gentleman friends from school.
Now, we all understand that in the Feminine Vernacular, this clearly would be understood to constitute a "Play Date;" and no one would be troubled in the least that the term "play date" may connote, to a few insecure types, an activity generally enjoyed by Children. However, no such presumptions of unalloyed maturity should be made in reference to those of the Masculine Persuasion--at ANY age. You do well, gentle readers, to bear this in mind.
Trust the generously shared instincts and experience of your older, wiser mentor here and mentally label this occasion a Virtual Field Exercise...or any other male-friendly label that will not raise hackles.
It is generally advisable NOT to sashay into the room, brazenly insinuate yourself into their Theater of War, and demand, "Whatcha doin'!!??"
Unless all of the planets are in perfect alignment (which should never be assumed), you will NOT endear yourself to your brother or to his guest(s). To the Contrary, dear sister, you may well find yourself shunned, ignored, or the particular recipient of scowls, snorts, or worse.
It should go without saying--but may not-- that neither should you schlump down anywhere near a game controller or remote control (ACHTUNG!!!! VERBOTEN!!!)--and CERTAINLY! -- do NOT, under ANY circumstances, attempt to usurp a cushion or (worse still!!!) Stand in Front of the Screen!!!
Such behavior may well be hazardous to life and limb. At the Very Least, it will only serve to accelerate your progress to the top of their Persona Non Grata list ...and all the tattling, sniveling, cajoling, or bribing in the world will not 'right your ship.'
Just sayin.'
...versus "Real Life, Observed"-
2:20 p.m. this afternoon, Holliday family room. An eerie, charged atmosphere prevails...
John, Classmate David, and Miss Cee, in this order, are lined up, tummies-down, on the floor. All six glassy eyeballs are assiduously trained on the flickering screen, and each slackened mouth slightly gapes. No drool, is detected, however. It's early in the skirmish.
John: "AHHHHH! No fair! My guys weren't in position yet!!"
Classmate D: [no sympathy here!] "Heh!!! Too bad...you knew it was harder at this level!"
John: [squirming] "Yeah, but....wait a minute---CECILY!!!! Mom, Cecily's bothering us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Miss Cee: [oblivious] "C'mon, c'mon, punk! Just a little further...oh, yeah!!! You punk, you! Gotcha, punk!!! Didn't see THAT coming, didja?" *smirk*
QUEEN CEE'S SCHOOL of FEMININE DEPORTMENT: Session X9X
Following is the latest dispatch from the above referenced Institution of Charm and Finishing:
"Pedagogical Theory" versus -
At various and sundry times, you may find yourself in the company of young gentlemen to whom you are Not Related. This can be a Ticklish Situation, but managed properly, and with Discretion and Forethought, you have nothing to fear.
For example, consider the following Real Life Example.
Bouncing down the stairs with your 'Felicity' American Girl doll in your arms, you turn the corner only to find your Youngest Oldest Brother playing host to one of his gentleman friends from school.
Now, we all understand that in the Feminine Vernacular, this clearly would be understood to constitute a "Play Date;" and no one would be troubled in the least that the term "play date" may connote, to a few insecure types, an activity generally enjoyed by Children. However, no such presumptions of unalloyed maturity should be made in reference to those of the Masculine Persuasion--at ANY age. You do well, gentle readers, to bear this in mind.
Trust the generously shared instincts and experience of your older, wiser mentor here and mentally label this occasion a Virtual Field Exercise...or any other male-friendly label that will not raise hackles.
It is generally advisable NOT to sashay into the room, brazenly insinuate yourself into their Theater of War, and demand, "Whatcha doin'!!??"
Unless all of the planets are in perfect alignment (which should never be assumed), you will NOT endear yourself to your brother or to his guest(s). To the Contrary, dear sister, you may well find yourself shunned, ignored, or the particular recipient of scowls, snorts, or worse.
It should go without saying--but may not-- that neither should you schlump down anywhere near a game controller or remote control (ACHTUNG!!!! VERBOTEN!!!)--and CERTAINLY! -- do NOT, under ANY circumstances, attempt to usurp a cushion or (worse still!!!) Stand in Front of the Screen!!!
Such behavior may well be hazardous to life and limb. At the Very Least, it will only serve to accelerate your progress to the top of their Persona Non Grata list ...and all the tattling, sniveling, cajoling, or bribing in the world will not 'right your ship.'
Just sayin.'
...versus "Real Life, Observed"-
2:20 p.m. this afternoon, Holliday family room. An eerie, charged atmosphere prevails...
John, Classmate David, and Miss Cee, in this order, are lined up, tummies-down, on the floor. All six glassy eyeballs are assiduously trained on the flickering screen, and each slackened mouth slightly gapes. No drool, is detected, however. It's early in the skirmish.
John: "AHHHHH! No fair! My guys weren't in position yet!!"
Classmate D: [no sympathy here!] "Heh!!! Too bad...you knew it was harder at this level!"
John: [squirming] "Yeah, but....wait a minute---CECILY!!!! Mom, Cecily's bothering us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Miss Cee: [oblivious] "C'mon, c'mon, punk! Just a little further...oh, yeah!!! You punk, you! Gotcha, punk!!! Didn't see THAT coming, didja?" *smirk*
Saturday, June 6, 2009
D Day
Today is a somber day.
We just finished watching a C-SPAN rebroadcast of the 65th Anniversary Commemoration Ceremony at Colleville-sur-Mer, France - the beaches of Normandy. Fourteen years before my own birth, the D-Day invasion turned the tide of modern history. I find it humbling to see the surviving veterans of the Allied Forces who journey there to pay honor to the thousands who laid down their lies there at a moment in history so much bigger than any individual, but comprised of so many brave individuals committed to pay whatever price was required to secure victory and freedom. It is doubtful that those of us on this side of the Conflict can ever really understand.
I watched the faces as the camera panned over the assembled veterans and wondered what they might be thinking as they watched Presidents Obama and Sarkozy, Prince Charles, Gordon Brown and the Canadian Prime Minister on thie dais...all of them too young to have remembered the actual day in history; perhaps all of them not even yet born in 1944 (don't remember how old Charles is). I listened to the carefully crafted words of President Obama as he paid honor to the valor of those present, and still more to the many thousands who were lost; and I wondered if the sentiments he voiced would have any echo in the policy decisions he is implementing and developing. I would not want to be in his shoes.
We silently counted all 21 firings of the 21-gun salute over the shore, wondering if they were World War II vintage guns. And it is always affecting to watch a military flyover and then see the solitary plane peel away into the open skies. When the bugler finished playing "Taps," Bill looked over at Ben and thanked him for helping to play this last year at his dad's funeral. Not easy.
Apologies if this has verged into the maudlin.
Of course, the sad and more personal context for us is that today is our oldest son's 20th birthday; he is out there, but not among us. I dropped a card into the mailbox for him yesterday but couldn't stop a small stream of tears as I drove away. Happy Birthday, David.
* * * * * * *
A few hours ago, Bill and I returned from Naperville, where we attended the last day of the ICHE [Illinois Convention of Home Educators]. We haven't attended for the last few years - like most things, it requires planning and effort to attend, and those quantities seem to be in short supply here, more often than not.
We were glad to have gone, although it is always tiring to try and absorb so much information, navigate through crowds, decide which workshops to attend, and the like. It's also another reality check on the passage of time; the first time we came to this convention, everyone but Bill and me was a Hollidayette; John was a toddler, and Cecily was not yet a 'gleam.' [Sheesh, I hope I don't have to explain THAT expression to her anytime soon...] To say we were overwhelmed at that convention would be An Understatement. But this path has proven to be a good decision. The best things are always the harder ones, it seems.
In fact, I have 'decided' that there is an inverse relationship between the need to do something and the ease with which it can be done. For example, I knew this would not be an easy date for us, and that attending this conference is not a 'walk in the park.' Although there were a few laugh-out-loud moments, some parts of it were quite hard for me. But we've come home with the kind of fatigue one feels after having done something one knows should be done.
One of the richer, wrenching sessions was the afternoon keynote by Chris Klicka, the attorney who helped found the HSLDA (Homeschool Legal Defense Association). He recounted some of the legal challenges he was involved in during the 1980s, when homeschooling was legal in only a handful of US sates, and some families were prosecuted. Today, homeschooling is legal in all 50 states and, as he related, there are homeschool families overseas in countries like Germany, where home education is illegal, and France, Austria, and South Africa [where it is heavily regulated by those governments] "who look to the US as a source of hope in their struggle to rear their children according to their own family values in an era when mention of God is often prohibited in classrooms.
I have heard Mr. Klicka on radio programs over the years, and vaguely remembered that he had an illness. But it was a bit of a shock to see him maneuver himself onto the platform in a motorized scooter due to the progression of the multiple sclerosis he was diagnosed with in 1994. MS is often a pitiless diseas in terms of its speed of progression.
"But, I prayed the 'Hezekiah prayer' and asked the Lord to give me 15 more years. That was 15 years ago, and here I am."
He proceeded to quietly and humbly share some recent details of his personal struggle as a still-practicing attorney and homeschooling father of 7. Although he did well, you could tell his word retrieval was becoming a little more affected by the disease; he also excused himself from the final workshop session he was to present, presumably due to fatigue.
I suppose Mr. Klicka is close to may age, maybe a couple of years older. He ended by reflecting on how he faces the challnges ahead by looking behind him and remembering how far the Lord has carried him thus far. It gives one pause to listen to a person like this...perhaps it is an awareness that the curtains giving on to the vestibule of eternity are not far away...seemingly close enough to feel the air current as they start to move. The opportunity to hear him was a privilege.
One of the last things I wrote down from his session was this paraphrase:
"God enables us to endure, far beyond our ability to endure."
2 Cor. 1:8.
Until next time,
Love,
Your Faithful Correspondent
We just finished watching a C-SPAN rebroadcast of the 65th Anniversary Commemoration Ceremony at Colleville-sur-Mer, France - the beaches of Normandy. Fourteen years before my own birth, the D-Day invasion turned the tide of modern history. I find it humbling to see the surviving veterans of the Allied Forces who journey there to pay honor to the thousands who laid down their lies there at a moment in history so much bigger than any individual, but comprised of so many brave individuals committed to pay whatever price was required to secure victory and freedom. It is doubtful that those of us on this side of the Conflict can ever really understand.
I watched the faces as the camera panned over the assembled veterans and wondered what they might be thinking as they watched Presidents Obama and Sarkozy, Prince Charles, Gordon Brown and the Canadian Prime Minister on thie dais...all of them too young to have remembered the actual day in history; perhaps all of them not even yet born in 1944 (don't remember how old Charles is). I listened to the carefully crafted words of President Obama as he paid honor to the valor of those present, and still more to the many thousands who were lost; and I wondered if the sentiments he voiced would have any echo in the policy decisions he is implementing and developing. I would not want to be in his shoes.
We silently counted all 21 firings of the 21-gun salute over the shore, wondering if they were World War II vintage guns. And it is always affecting to watch a military flyover and then see the solitary plane peel away into the open skies. When the bugler finished playing "Taps," Bill looked over at Ben and thanked him for helping to play this last year at his dad's funeral. Not easy.
Apologies if this has verged into the maudlin.
Of course, the sad and more personal context for us is that today is our oldest son's 20th birthday; he is out there, but not among us. I dropped a card into the mailbox for him yesterday but couldn't stop a small stream of tears as I drove away. Happy Birthday, David.
* * * * * * *
A few hours ago, Bill and I returned from Naperville, where we attended the last day of the ICHE [Illinois Convention of Home Educators]. We haven't attended for the last few years - like most things, it requires planning and effort to attend, and those quantities seem to be in short supply here, more often than not.
We were glad to have gone, although it is always tiring to try and absorb so much information, navigate through crowds, decide which workshops to attend, and the like. It's also another reality check on the passage of time; the first time we came to this convention, everyone but Bill and me was a Hollidayette; John was a toddler, and Cecily was not yet a 'gleam.' [Sheesh, I hope I don't have to explain THAT expression to her anytime soon...] To say we were overwhelmed at that convention would be An Understatement. But this path has proven to be a good decision. The best things are always the harder ones, it seems.
In fact, I have 'decided' that there is an inverse relationship between the need to do something and the ease with which it can be done. For example, I knew this would not be an easy date for us, and that attending this conference is not a 'walk in the park.' Although there were a few laugh-out-loud moments, some parts of it were quite hard for me. But we've come home with the kind of fatigue one feels after having done something one knows should be done.
One of the richer, wrenching sessions was the afternoon keynote by Chris Klicka, the attorney who helped found the HSLDA (Homeschool Legal Defense Association). He recounted some of the legal challenges he was involved in during the 1980s, when homeschooling was legal in only a handful of US sates, and some families were prosecuted. Today, homeschooling is legal in all 50 states and, as he related, there are homeschool families overseas in countries like Germany, where home education is illegal, and France, Austria, and South Africa [where it is heavily regulated by those governments] "who look to the US as a source of hope in their struggle to rear their children according to their own family values in an era when mention of God is often prohibited in classrooms.
I have heard Mr. Klicka on radio programs over the years, and vaguely remembered that he had an illness. But it was a bit of a shock to see him maneuver himself onto the platform in a motorized scooter due to the progression of the multiple sclerosis he was diagnosed with in 1994. MS is often a pitiless diseas in terms of its speed of progression.
"But, I prayed the 'Hezekiah prayer' and asked the Lord to give me 15 more years. That was 15 years ago, and here I am."
He proceeded to quietly and humbly share some recent details of his personal struggle as a still-practicing attorney and homeschooling father of 7. Although he did well, you could tell his word retrieval was becoming a little more affected by the disease; he also excused himself from the final workshop session he was to present, presumably due to fatigue.
I suppose Mr. Klicka is close to may age, maybe a couple of years older. He ended by reflecting on how he faces the challnges ahead by looking behind him and remembering how far the Lord has carried him thus far. It gives one pause to listen to a person like this...perhaps it is an awareness that the curtains giving on to the vestibule of eternity are not far away...seemingly close enough to feel the air current as they start to move. The opportunity to hear him was a privilege.
One of the last things I wrote down from his session was this paraphrase:
"God enables us to endure, far beyond our ability to endure."
2 Cor. 1:8.
Until next time,
Love,
Your Faithful Correspondent
Friday, May 29, 2009
Bonjour - Fri., May 29 09
Bonjour to any readers out there-
Is it Friday already? This must be 'summer vacation,' when the days seem to evaporate even more quickly than during the school year.
It may seem ironic that I have just transitioned from the BenHollidayRunner blog to this one, and here I am starting with a post about Ben...but that's what's been going on today. So, if Ben's latest health status is not a source of interest (which is fine), you probably want to skip this post.
BEN-LINES: [Gack! We thought they were gone!!]
(1) Dr. Carrion: Or, maybe I should go back to the 'alphabet soup' designation and just call him "Dr. C." Anyway, Ben had his 4-month check today, and we are thankful to report that he received a good report. I obviously don't have the same perspective as do the the doctor and nurse, who see Ben only about 3 or 4 times a year; in fact, he turns 18 in August, so I guess then we will be looking for a "grown up" endocrinologist, instead of a peds one. Sigh. But, both of them seem pleasantly surprised by how well Ben looks, compared to the last few visits.
- Ben has gained about five pounds over the last three and half months, which is progress, although he still has plenty of weight and muscle mass to gain.
- He is also about an inch and half taller than he was in January. This puts him at the 25th percentile in height for his age. I realized I looked up to him, but now at 5' 7.5", he is more than 4" taller than me. This is a source of amusement to him: "It's OK, Mom. You can't help it if you're shrinking a little." Wow-that's a comfort...
- At this point, Dr. C. thinks it likely that Ben is basically done with his growth...that wasn't actually a source of amusement, since he'd prefer to be taller, but that's not quite in the gene pool. Lo siento, Benito.
- Ben's gluco-check numbers since April have been in the high 80s to mid 100s; he did have a low 0f 70, that had to be corrected with a bigger snack, but we don't remember what might have caused him to go so low. His highest recent reading was 170, but that was followed by the 70 reading 2 days later, so we didn't change his Lantus dose...still 10 units. [I guess I include this info in case any nurses who had cared for or followed Ben's progress might happent to check this blog.]
- We will also be off for another A1c blood level lab test soon...[what am I saying? But of COURSE, this fun errand will be delegated to Mr. Bill...]--as soon as we can figure out which lab we are supposed to go to according to our insurance plan. Dr. C. did explain to us wht A1c is all about previously, but all I remember now is that it is Important to monitor. It apparently has something to do with his insulin levels "matching." [Which, quite randomly, reminds me of the old Match Game TV show--or as Bill would say, "the T and V"--wasn't the host Gene Rayburn, with the funky glasses?? OK, that was an extreme digression.]
- Since Ben is to hold steady at 10 units of Lantus, Dr. C. says his pancreas is clearly producing some natural insulin and that his basal insulin level is satisfactory. We will just have to see what the future holds as far as whether Ben's insulin correction treatment will hold steady, decrease further, or increase. Dr. C. also cautioned that it could easily be that he will have to resume the shorter-acting Humalog correction at some point. This, we would rather not have to do...but that is out of our hands.
- The much-anticipated, upcoming Great X-Country Team Getaway next month will require a little extra consideration as far as Ben's insulin situation. Because of the level of expected activity, etc., Dr. C. says Ben's needed insulin level will decrease, since more activity burns more sugar, thus decreasing the level of circulating blood glucose...I think that's right.
Anyway, he is supposed to reduce to 8 units of night-time Lantus a night or two before departure in anticipation of this and then stay at that level nightly for the duration of the trip. On the other hand, Ben is also supposed to have his Humalog pen loaded and packed to go with him..."in case." And there is the little detail of somehow making sure that none of the insulin gets too hot...I am not sure if anyone else going on this trip might also be diabetic or have other health concerns...
He'll still have to gluco-check 2 to 3 times a day, and make sure he is well-stocked on wholesome snacks...M&Ms do not qualify...but they would melt in that Kentucky heat, anyway, not to mention the remote chance of wresting them away from any other ravenous or mischievous team members...just sayin.'
And, as I kind of suspected, the glucagon rescue medicine has to ride along too, in case his sugar gets dangerously low and he gets really irritable [no comment, Eeyore] or unconscious. Then, it is urgent to get surgar into his system so his brain can resume normal functioning [no comment...what restraint!]
Fortunately, Coach has agreed to learn how to administer this...which I hope will not be needed.
It goes without saying that we so wish that none of this had to be part of Ben's trip, but that is not the reality before us, and we are so thankful to be only dealing with how things are now, when we are aware it could be so much worse...well, for him to able to go on this trip at all [NOT to mention even being invited to go along, Ben!] is quite a blessing.
(2) Work: After Dr. C. and a quick stop at Subway, Ben was deposited at PerfectFrame, with IRS forms (what are these exemptions, anyway? Do I get to be exempt from something?!) ready to turn in.
SO, Ben,now that you had a full day of work on Wed., do you think you're going to like this gig?
Ben: "Yeah, I think it is OK. Kind of quiet in there. But, it's good."
Plus, it's air-conditioned and you stay pretty clean [unlike cord detasseling!], and there's no food preparation or stuffing fast food bags involved. What's not to like?
Ben: "Uh, yeah, Mom. You seem to know all about it."
Well, don't you have a nice boss?
Ben: [effusive, as always] "Well, he's a nice guy. He's really serious most of the time."
Ah, that's a perfect opportunity to lighten up the atmosphere with some verbal 'riffs' from your spot-on imitation of Mr. Tinkles in the film "Cats and Dogs." [A must-see Holliday favorite...Jeff Goldblum as a kooky research scientist, talking snarky megalomaniac Persian cat--clearly A Classic.]
Ben: "Yeh, well I've already tried that...*smirk* and he just said, 'hey, shut up there!'....OK!!!! not really!!!!!"
Does this bode well for job security???? (Wouldn't want to scare any customers away, would we?)
I'm not placing any bets...
All for now, patient readers, but I remain-
Your Faithful Correspondent
Is it Friday already? This must be 'summer vacation,' when the days seem to evaporate even more quickly than during the school year.
It may seem ironic that I have just transitioned from the BenHollidayRunner blog to this one, and here I am starting with a post about Ben...but that's what's been going on today. So, if Ben's latest health status is not a source of interest (which is fine), you probably want to skip this post.
BEN-LINES: [Gack! We thought they were gone!!]
(1) Dr. Carrion: Or, maybe I should go back to the 'alphabet soup' designation and just call him "Dr. C." Anyway, Ben had his 4-month check today, and we are thankful to report that he received a good report. I obviously don't have the same perspective as do the the doctor and nurse, who see Ben only about 3 or 4 times a year; in fact, he turns 18 in August, so I guess then we will be looking for a "grown up" endocrinologist, instead of a peds one. Sigh. But, both of them seem pleasantly surprised by how well Ben looks, compared to the last few visits.
- Ben has gained about five pounds over the last three and half months, which is progress, although he still has plenty of weight and muscle mass to gain.
- He is also about an inch and half taller than he was in January. This puts him at the 25th percentile in height for his age. I realized I looked up to him, but now at 5' 7.5", he is more than 4" taller than me. This is a source of amusement to him: "It's OK, Mom. You can't help it if you're shrinking a little." Wow-that's a comfort...
- At this point, Dr. C. thinks it likely that Ben is basically done with his growth...that wasn't actually a source of amusement, since he'd prefer to be taller, but that's not quite in the gene pool. Lo siento, Benito.
- Ben's gluco-check numbers since April have been in the high 80s to mid 100s; he did have a low 0f 70, that had to be corrected with a bigger snack, but we don't remember what might have caused him to go so low. His highest recent reading was 170, but that was followed by the 70 reading 2 days later, so we didn't change his Lantus dose...still 10 units. [I guess I include this info in case any nurses who had cared for or followed Ben's progress might happent to check this blog.]
- We will also be off for another A1c blood level lab test soon...[what am I saying? But of COURSE, this fun errand will be delegated to Mr. Bill...]--as soon as we can figure out which lab we are supposed to go to according to our insurance plan. Dr. C. did explain to us wht A1c is all about previously, but all I remember now is that it is Important to monitor. It apparently has something to do with his insulin levels "matching." [Which, quite randomly, reminds me of the old Match Game TV show--or as Bill would say, "the T and V"--wasn't the host Gene Rayburn, with the funky glasses?? OK, that was an extreme digression.]
- Since Ben is to hold steady at 10 units of Lantus, Dr. C. says his pancreas is clearly producing some natural insulin and that his basal insulin level is satisfactory. We will just have to see what the future holds as far as whether Ben's insulin correction treatment will hold steady, decrease further, or increase. Dr. C. also cautioned that it could easily be that he will have to resume the shorter-acting Humalog correction at some point. This, we would rather not have to do...but that is out of our hands.
- The much-anticipated, upcoming Great X-Country Team Getaway next month will require a little extra consideration as far as Ben's insulin situation. Because of the level of expected activity, etc., Dr. C. says Ben's needed insulin level will decrease, since more activity burns more sugar, thus decreasing the level of circulating blood glucose...I think that's right.
Anyway, he is supposed to reduce to 8 units of night-time Lantus a night or two before departure in anticipation of this and then stay at that level nightly for the duration of the trip. On the other hand, Ben is also supposed to have his Humalog pen loaded and packed to go with him..."in case." And there is the little detail of somehow making sure that none of the insulin gets too hot...I am not sure if anyone else going on this trip might also be diabetic or have other health concerns...
He'll still have to gluco-check 2 to 3 times a day, and make sure he is well-stocked on wholesome snacks...M&Ms do not qualify...but they would melt in that Kentucky heat, anyway, not to mention the remote chance of wresting them away from any other ravenous or mischievous team members...just sayin.'
And, as I kind of suspected, the glucagon rescue medicine has to ride along too, in case his sugar gets dangerously low and he gets really irritable [no comment, Eeyore] or unconscious. Then, it is urgent to get surgar into his system so his brain can resume normal functioning [no comment...what restraint!]
Fortunately, Coach has agreed to learn how to administer this...which I hope will not be needed.
It goes without saying that we so wish that none of this had to be part of Ben's trip, but that is not the reality before us, and we are so thankful to be only dealing with how things are now, when we are aware it could be so much worse...well, for him to able to go on this trip at all [NOT to mention even being invited to go along, Ben!] is quite a blessing.
(2) Work: After Dr. C. and a quick stop at Subway, Ben was deposited at PerfectFrame, with IRS forms (what are these exemptions, anyway? Do I get to be exempt from something?!) ready to turn in.
SO, Ben,now that you had a full day of work on Wed., do you think you're going to like this gig?
Ben: "Yeah, I think it is OK. Kind of quiet in there. But, it's good."
Plus, it's air-conditioned and you stay pretty clean [unlike cord detasseling!], and there's no food preparation or stuffing fast food bags involved. What's not to like?
Ben: "Uh, yeah, Mom. You seem to know all about it."
Well, don't you have a nice boss?
Ben: [effusive, as always] "Well, he's a nice guy. He's really serious most of the time."
Ah, that's a perfect opportunity to lighten up the atmosphere with some verbal 'riffs' from your spot-on imitation of Mr. Tinkles in the film "Cats and Dogs." [A must-see Holliday favorite...Jeff Goldblum as a kooky research scientist, talking snarky megalomaniac Persian cat--clearly A Classic.]
Ben: "Yeh, well I've already tried that...*smirk* and he just said, 'hey, shut up there!'....OK!!!! not really!!!!!"
Does this bode well for job security???? (Wouldn't want to scare any customers away, would we?)
I'm not placing any bets...
All for now, patient readers, but I remain-
Your Faithful Correspondent
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Through the French Door Windows....
Bonjour--
I am not finding this blog-to-blog transition to be as smooth as I had hoped [never having been particularly adept at "clean breaks"]. At the moment, I feel like the sad sack who owes mortgages on two houses at once. But I digress...
The following 'mini-slice of life' presumes that you already know the Cast of Characters from their earlier and repeated appearances on the BenHollidayRunner blog. If this is not the case, be informed that Miss Cee (8-going-on-28) and John (12 and sister-weary) are (here's a shock) - siblings [#4 and #5 of 5].
A Typical Kitchen "Kaper"...
Late afternoon. "Dad" enters kitchen with hands on hips and eyebrows raised in a Silent Status Question. An atmosphere of tension reigns...
Miss Cee: "Johnny's not pulling the chairs out fast enough for me to Swiff under the table!"
John: "Well, my job is harder! She just gets to Swiff! How come I never get to be the one who Swiffs?"
[Ed. note: It is rumored that John has already carved out a new demographic niche for himself, as a 12-year-old male who complains that he does not get to Swiff...]
Miss Cee: [matter-of-fact] "That's because, I'M the Swiffer, Johnny."
Plea from Editor: Does anyone else out there have this problem? No, probably not. Time to resort, once again, to The Oven Timer Solution:
"Cecily, you can Swiff until the timer goes off, then it's John's turn...do not, I repeat, do NOT even consider resetting the timer..."
Gentle Readers, consider this an open invitation to submit your Swiffing needs now...any acreage will be considered...we need a tad more distance between the combatants here...
I am not finding this blog-to-blog transition to be as smooth as I had hoped [never having been particularly adept at "clean breaks"]. At the moment, I feel like the sad sack who owes mortgages on two houses at once. But I digress...
The following 'mini-slice of life' presumes that you already know the Cast of Characters from their earlier and repeated appearances on the BenHollidayRunner blog. If this is not the case, be informed that Miss Cee (8-going-on-28) and John (12 and sister-weary) are (here's a shock) - siblings [#4 and #5 of 5].
A Typical Kitchen "Kaper"...
Late afternoon. "Dad" enters kitchen with hands on hips and eyebrows raised in a Silent Status Question. An atmosphere of tension reigns...
Miss Cee: "Johnny's not pulling the chairs out fast enough for me to Swiff under the table!"
John: "Well, my job is harder! She just gets to Swiff! How come I never get to be the one who Swiffs?"
[Ed. note: It is rumored that John has already carved out a new demographic niche for himself, as a 12-year-old male who complains that he does not get to Swiff...]
Miss Cee: [matter-of-fact] "That's because, I'M the Swiffer, Johnny."
Plea from Editor: Does anyone else out there have this problem? No, probably not. Time to resort, once again, to The Oven Timer Solution:
"Cecily, you can Swiff until the timer goes off, then it's John's turn...do not, I repeat, do NOT even consider resetting the timer..."
Gentle Readers, consider this an open invitation to submit your Swiffing needs now...any acreage will be considered...we need a tad more distance between the combatants here...
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