Good-Bye 2007

I'd like to write something pithy or witty about this past year but instead will settle for simply stating that I survived it. I will be 60 on my next birthday so saying that 2007 was the most difficult year of my life to date puts it into perspective. As one ages, it becomes much more difficult to have new experiences. Never one to shy away from change, I generally welcome a new experience ... it's good for the brain and helps keep one vibrant. However, some of the new experiences I had in 2007 are ones that I hope I never have to live through again. Losing Hannah is the worst thing that ever has happened to me. Brien's grandmother, who lost a child when he was fourteen, said that while one never gets over a loss like this, eventually one gets to the point where he or she can live with it. It still takes my breath away when I think about it but slowly I am mending ... as we all are.

Of course I have many reasons to feel blessed and I have not lost sight of that. For example, I am thrilled to spend time with my grandbabies ... Lily and Ella are so precious and soon Gabriel will join us. A boy! Yes, we are having a boy. So, as I look forward to 2008, I do so with hope.

Today we took it easy ... in the morning Rachael, Paul, and I ran errands. Michael's was having a sale on ribbon so Rachael and I stocked up. I bought a few punches and some water pens to use with my new blender crayons. We had the Kentucky-Criminoles game on in the background while we cooked and played. The Davis family is rooting for the Crims but as an ardent SEC fan, I hope that Kentucky wins ... not that it much matters in the big scheme of things. Brien made killer buffalo chili for dinner and we much enjoyed each other's company while we savored every bite. Lily is preparing for bed; she is tired and it shows, though as is typical for a two-year-old, she is fighting every step toward the comfort of her crib. Even the hell dogs have been quiet all day. Holly and Waylen are snuggled up and snoozing. Rachael said that we are going to make thank-you notes this evening but it is already getting late, so I doubt that will happen. Perhaps we can use the new Hokie playing cards I put in Rachael's and Brien's stockings for a few rounds of Hand and Foot.

Rachael squeezed quite a bit of fresh lime juice. If anything smells better than the oil from fresh limes, I do not know what it is. It seems there is some type of libation in my future. Whatever it is, we probably will sip it as we ring in the new year.

So, come on 2008. Whatever you dish out, I'm sure I'll survive it ... oh, wait! The presidential election is this year. Oh, well ... I can only hope for the best. I want the country I LOVE to move in a new direction. If we educators have to live with No Child Left Behind, I agree with Paul that it's time for No Military Left Behind with serious and detailed monitoring of where 50% of our federal budget is going. If teachers must prove they are getting results, let's put the same burden on the generals and their boss, the C-I-C.

Happy new year, everyone!

More Miles ...

Susan and I arose early leaving Paul to sleep in. We shared a cup of tea and her special almond pastry. She left about 10:30 and Paul and I raced upstairs to get our showers and to pack up. It was almost time to leave Blacksburg. The day was gray and rain clouds were about to burst open. Just as we were shutting things down until next time, Judy came over and then Dottie. Both wanted to see Paul and wish him God speed in his travels. Times flies so it won't be long before he has to return to England.

We left in time to meet Brenda and Bernie at Cracker Barrel in Christiansburg where we enjoyed a lovely repast before getting on the road again. The trip to Williamsburg required me to be particularly vigilant. Rain poured on the dark crowded roads and the ride through Richmond was a bit disconcerting. Our interstate highway system has turned into demolition derby and I often think I should attend NASCAR school--if such a thing exists--so that I can survive the treachery of auto travel. Bring back the trains!

Rachael and Brien served us spaghetti and then we sat in the livingroom to open gifts. Lily was excited with her new acquisitions and she has been playing with them ever since. Every few minutes she brings me a book to read to her. When I got out my laptop, she asked to see pictures of Ella. This is turned into a happy little event. Previously as Lily showed me her new kitchen, in one of the drawers I found her new apron, chef's hat, and oven mitt. She let me put them on her for all of five seconds and then she shouted, "Don't want it!" We returned them to their proper storage place. Well, as soon as Lily saw the pictures of Ella wearing her apron, oven mitt, and chef's hat, Lily raced off to get hers. She's been wearing them ever since. Brien took photos so watch for them on Rachael's blog.

As for me, I am feeling renewed having spent time with my sister friends, Dottie, Judy, and Brenda. What a blessed woman I am!

Chappie's Choice ... or ... Never Get So Old That You Don't Take A Risk

Chappie's Choice: 2 eggs scrambled and served on a bed of fried potatoes then topped with melted cheese. Comes with a biscuit or whole wheat toast. $4.50

Preview

There are few statements that I could make that are 100% factual. After all, most anything is open to some type of interpretation. However, I can aver that Chappie's Choice is the best breakfast in the entire world. Even Paul agrees with me. We began our day at Gillie's, my favorite local eating establishment ... I've been having breakfast there (read that as Chappie's Choice) for more than thirty years. This morning I decided to be daring and vary from my usual choice of gigantic buttermilk biscuit in favor or hearty whole wheat toast. One must never get stuck in a rut, methinks. I looked for Noah Gillie but did not see him so I asked if he was working. Sadly, none of the Gillie family was present. For several years I have hoped to catch Noah when I am in town; I taught him in the fifth grade and he has always been one of my all-time favorite students. Yes, teachers can't help but be human and connect better with some students than others. There are two funny things I noticed in Gillie's this morning: First, there is a new sign proclaiming that there is a fine of $5 for whining. A second sign stated that Gillie's has been in operation since 1974. This is flat out wrong. Gillie's opened in 1973. My recent memory may be seriously flawed but not my distant memory. I well remember when my friend Kim Koller told me that his friend, Jan Gillie, was going to open an ice cream shop in downtown Blacksburg. Jan would serve Louis Sherry premium ice cream. Kim and I walked downtown the week Gillie's opened and each bought a double dip cone. In 1973 Kim left Blacksburg for good and I immediately lost track of him. By 1974 I was living way out of town, too far to walk to Gillie's for a treat. It is sad to note that a few years ago, Gillie's gave us serving ice cream. Boo hoo hoo. I have so many fond memories of eating ice cream cones from Gilllie's. When I was pregnant with Rachael, Jan Gillie served me the biggest ice cream cone I have ever seen. He told me he always did this for pregnant women because they seemed to enjoy ice cream more than any of this other customers. I had a hard time keeping the ice cream from falling off the cone, but had no difficulty scarfing it down.

Prior to our leaving for Gillie's I talked to my dear friend, Barbara Stepp, and we agreed that she should join us for coffee. It was so good to see Barbara when she arrived. I gave her a big hug and we commenced talking. For the next two and a half hours I caught up on all the local gossip and what my many MCPS friends are doing. Had it not been Christmas break we could not have tarried that long because when the students are here, the breakfast line for Gillie's can stretch down the block.

Early in the afternoon, as I awaited sister Susan's arrival, Paul said he wanted to see Dottie again. We both hoped to have the opportunity to see Dottie's new home. While she has not moved in yet, Dottie has spent the last year renovating. Each time I have come to Blacksburg, I've been able to check out the status of the remodeling. What a huge project it is to renovate a house. Luckily, Dottie has been able to stay put in her current house while attending to the myriad details of refurbishing her new abode. Paul called Dottie and she invited us to go with her to see all the changes she had made. The house has been totally transformed and is lovely. Dottie made structural changes as well as attending to all of the cosmetic details that needed to be updated. It seems as if she has made at least a thousand decisions related to this huge project.

As I type this Paul is off with Dottie running errands and I am waiting for Susan to show up. We will be going downtown (yay!) to The Cellar for dinner. While the food is proletariat, it is always hearty and comforting. The best garlic bread I have ever had has been at the Cellar. On our way to dinner, we will stop to pay our respects at the Virginia Tech memorial. Every time I come home, I feel compelled to do so. Having lost someone so dear to my heart recently, I feel an overwhelming empathy for all of the folks whose ones died that grim April day. I even ache for Cho's family.


Later ...

Susan arrived about 4:00 p.m.. We did as planned and had our “usual” at The Cellar—a cup of soup, Mac Daddy a la carte, and an order of garlic bread. Two glasses of wine later and I was a happy little camper. We did stop to honor the fallen at the VT memorial and then headed home. As we passed along Cambridge Road I noticed that Judy’s lights were on meaning that she had arrived back from Illinois. I forbade anyone from bothering her because I knew that after an eleven-hour drive Judy would be ready for a nice long rest. As we pulled into Dottie’s, Judy was outside unpacking her car. She invited us in for a chin wag and a glass of sherry. We visited for a couple of hours and returned home.

Tomorrow we’ll meet Brenda Wojo and Judy at Cracker Barrel at 1:00 before heading off on the next leg of this adventure. We should arrive at Rachael’s in Williamsburg no later than 9:00 p.m. Until next time ...

The Ballad of Fancy Gap

Paul and I departed from the Green City at 8:45 a.m. which should have put us into Blacksburg no later than 1:45 p.m. Friends have told me they can make the trip in fours but they are either prevaricating or keeping a steady speed in excess of 80 mph. When we rolled into the 'Burg it was after 2:30 p.m. What caused our delay was thick fog and pouring rain. The temperature hovered at 43 so I knew we were in no danger of encountering ice and/or snow. When we got to Winston-Salem, I toyed with taking US 52 up Fancy Gap Mountain just for old time's sake. Paul talked me out of it and it is a good thing he did. As Jim Marshall sang, "They call that killer mountain, Old Fancy Gap." Jim was a trucker at the time he wrote about the perilous route down old US 52 that was especially dangerous for truckers. The road claimed many a life back in the days before I-77 opened. Even I-77 has multiple escape routes for truckers whose brakes can't withstand the trip down the mountain. You can see the gravel paths cut up the side of the steepest points ... escape roads going to nowhere ... but saving many a trucker's life. They had them on the old road, too, but the hairpin turns caused too many truckers to plunge over the side of the mountain like Toonces the cat on SNL. Fancy Gap is one of my favorite places ... the population in 2000 was a mighty 224. [Lest you think that is number is low, compare it to a place in Italy where I once had the finest of meals--Murlo, population 24.] Yes, the ride up Fancy Gap Mountain on I-77 has a breathtaking view, one best seen as the passenger rather than the driver.

When we arrived at my Blacksburg house, the heat was set at 50 but it didn't take long for the temperature to make the climb to 70. Whenever I leave the house and shut it down until my next visit, I turn the temperature to the most energy efficient setting, turn off the hot water, turn off the toilets, and switch off most of the breakers. About the time the house was warming up, Dottie called to confirm our dinner reservations. At the appointed hour we rode through downtown Blacksburg--AHHHHHHH--to Poor Billy's where we were set to have a lovely repast. It was still pouring rain, but I was convinced we'd find a parking spot on Jackson Street because most of the 28,000 VT students were gone for the holidays. I was wrong. We did find a place on Draper Road so our trek through the downpour was only a block and a half. Nancy joined us and we each ordered something different. All of our meals were excellent, a rarity for downtown Blacksburg where there is a paucity of good restaurants. One notable exception is Champs, Mike Soriano's sport's bar. One must, however, be in the mood to eat in a sports bar and tonight was not the night. After dinner we enjoyed creme brulee, one of my favorite desserts when done well. Luckily, it was.

On the way home, Dottie fulfilled my wish of driving around the drill field, something I do every single time I come home. I especially like to do this at night. It is comforting for some reason. I don't question the little joys of life ... I just relish them. With any luck, in the morning I'll be able to drag Paul to Gillie's for breakfast; Chappie's Choice, here I come! If life could get any better, I don't know how.

Staying Busy

Today's Accomplishment:

1. Slept late.
2. Wrapped some gifts to take to Blacksburg.
   
3. Unpacked my suitcase.
4. Did several loads of laundry.
5. Repacked my suitcase.
6. Picked up a couple of last-minute gifts for Judy and Nancy.
7. Fed Paul the cookies Lou and Joy sent me (for breakfast).
8. Paid the bills.
9. Picked up a memory card reader at Best Buy.
   
10. Downloaded photos into my new electronic picture frame.
11. Cashed a couple of checks.
12. Got cash for the next trip.
13. Bedeviled Paul as best I could. >:-)
14. Looked for old family documents for Dad. (I didn't find them and am in a panic. They are my great-great-grandfather's discharge papers from the Civil War. I am certain my father never gave them to me because I scanned every other document and found a note on the folder saying it was empty when I received it.)
15. Filled the car with gas.
16. Talked to Rachael via SightSpeed.
17. Ignored six annoying calls from some 800 number that rings me every single day.
18. Talked to dear Dottie.
19. Talked to Jessica.
20. Took Paul out to eat because there is still no food in the house.
21. Downloaded audio books from audible.com and then converted them to MP3 format, split each one into ten-minute segments, and burned the books to a CD.
22. Got the garbage out.
23. Sat by the fire.
24. Watched 1965, 1966, 1967, 1968, and 1969 from The Rock and Roll Years, a British documentary series Paul brought me. I could sing along with every song.
    
25. Complained mildly when Paul downloaded and watched a segment of Dr. Who.
26. Read the news in several newspapers on the web.
27. Watched a bit of CNN just as the story broke about Bhutto's assassination.
28. Emailed interesting news stories to friends.
29. Read several blogs.
30. Wrote this blog.

That's it ... enough for one day. Good night.

32 Hours in the Green City

Paul and I flew into RDU without incident save the pouring rain that drenched us as we made our way from the airplane into the terminal. The hour and a half drive back to Greenville was also uneventful though I am always surprised by those who insist on driving 80 mph in driving rain. So, here we are sitting in front of the fireplace watching a British documentary about rock 'n roll in the year 1956. Good ole Paul. He always brings lots of interesting DVDs with him. [Note: If you are interested in the etymology of English words and you have the chance to watch the British show, Balderdash and Piffle, you will be well pleased. It's just one example of the type of documentaries Paul brings me.] Laundry is drying and we are unpacking our suitcases only to pack them again tomorrow when we leave early Thursday morning for After that, it will be off to Williamsburg to ring in the new year with Rachael and family.

Our tummies are rumbling so it's time to find something to eat ... this won't be easy to do because there is so little food in the house. We were going to stop at the grocery store on our way into town and then decided to unload the car first. Now, the fire is too inviting for me to make the trek out in the rain. I know there is a bit of Colby cheese and perhaps some stale bread. Oh! I almost forgot ... when we arrived home, there was a package on my doorstep. Dear Lou and Joy--publishers I work for--posted off a package of gourmet cookies. All the proceeds go to cancer research at Sloan-Kettering where they are trying to develop a cure for a type of cancer that afflicts young children. So, there's no way we can starve, eh?

Christmas at the Gauldens

My grandfather used to say that Christmas is for the kids. He was right. The pleasure of the Christmas experience is dramatically increased when a toddler who believes in Santa Claus is filled with the wonder of the occasion. Below are photos from today. The first one shows Ella checking out the empty muffincake papers and empty milk glass proving that Santa had, indeed, visited her house. The other photos are glimpses of Ella's third Christmas.

The Joy of Sprinkles

When you aren't around toddlers on a regular basis, it can be easy to forget how wondrous the world around them is. They make new discoveries every single day. At may age a brand new experience is as rare as hen's teeth, but for little ones like Lily and Ella every single day brings something new for their wee brains to process and learn about. Toddlers find wonder in the smallest of things ... the kinds of thing we adults take for granted. Ella's joy, expressed with a huge grin, when Jessie bought Christmas sprinkles was palpable. This morning Ella was eager to make "muffincakes" for Santa. (You may know them as cupcakes.) Her mother had promised that she could put sprinkles on them and Ella was beside herself with excitement. Ella, like most little ones, enjoys helping with most any cooking chore, so she was eager to help me make the yellow cupcakes. She carefully pushed a chair up to the counter and established herself right next to me while I set up the mixer. First, we poured the cake mix and water into the bowl. I have watched tiny little Lily help crack eggs so I wasn't surprised when Ella readied herself to assist me. She knew just what to do. Ella put the festive red cupcake papers into the muffin pan and helped me coat them with nonstick spray. I added the batter as she grabbed the sprinkles and tried to take off the lid. I had to help her understand that the cupcakes had to bake first. Then, when they were cooked, I again had to explain that they needed to cool. Ella was as patient as I have ever seen a child be. Finally, it was time to ice the cupcakes. Ella is a future chef it seems as she was a pro at adding the sprinkles. "May I have some?" she asked. This surprised me as most any other child would just dig in and grab a handful. Ella grinned when I told her it was okay. Just as we were about to ice and add sprinkles to the second batch of cupcakes, the phone rang ...

Jess and Bob had left us with Ella so that they could go to Jess's maternity checkup. When they got ready to return home, they discovered that the battery in Bob's car was dead. Paul and Lissie to the rescue! After jotting down directions, we packed Ella into Jess's car and took off. We found them with no trouble and Bob jump started his car. He left to buy a battery and the rest of us went to pick up the Christmas ham. The line at ham store was wrapped all the way around the corner of the store. Luckily, Pet Smart was in the same building. As Jess said, Pet Smart is like a free zoo. We were able to keep Ella entertained while Jess stood in line for the ham. She enjoyed looking at all of the animals so the time passed quickly.

We made it back home and finished getting the muffincakes ready for Santa. It is well known that in addition to cookies, Santa likes other treats as well. Now we are settled down in front of the fire. The Polar Express is playing and Ella alternates between being entranced and then heading off to explore what her Daddy is doing. If there is any better way to spend a Christmas Eve I don't know what it could be. Family ... that is what Christmas means to me.

Note: If Bob loads the pictures of Ella baking onto my laptop I can post some of them later.

It's 9:23 A.M. and I'm Still in My PJs

Bob has a new camera and he has been snapping away. You can see from the photo above that I have metamorphosed into a slug. Yes, my inner slug has been set free and here I sit typing away in my pajamas. Unfortunately, because of my Puritan-ethic upbringing, there is a guilty little voice that keeps nagging me way, way in the back of my head. "You lazy sod! Go take your shower and get dressed. After all, you have a big day of laying around ahead of you." Rich aromas of bacon and coffee are emanating from the kitchen. Bob is busy creating a pancake breakfast for all of us. Yum! Could life get any better? I think not.

It snowed yesterday and there is a a dusting of powder on the roof next door. The ground is covered in a few places but mostly there is dried grass and weeds poking through. Kansas City is due to get a big snowfall on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. Considering Paul and I fly out on Wednesday, this could potentially pose a problem. I'll keep my fingers crossed that we make it back to the Green City as scheduled. I have so much work to do to prepare for the next semester that it makes my head swim. No wonder that little voice is nagging me. I keep telling myself that it is reasonable to kick back and relax while visiting and that it would be rude to try to work. My old mantra, "Duty before pleasure," is haunting me. Isn't it a shame that I am struggling to quell the beast instead of merely enjoying my daughter and her family? Perhaps an old movie will take my mind of worrying about work.

Speaking of work, several years ago I realized that my parents--who are in their late eighties--are the last generation that gets to retire. My generation, the baby boomers, will work until we fall over dead. As I approach sixty I have mixed feelings about this. I've always believed that one is never too old to rock 'n roll. After all, except for a few aching joints and the acquisition of some common sense, I'm still the same person I was forty years ago. Wisdom is difficult to come by but I do think I've learned a few things along the steep and rocky path of life. That said, I am getting to the point where the idea of retiring appeals to me. If I were retired I'd have much more time to spend with family. Ah, well, that's a dream deferred because in the USA we all will work just to have health care. A couple of years ago I head Ben Stein say that no baby boomer should retire unless he or she has AT LEAST $180,000 saved for medical expenses. That is ON TOP OF the MILLION DOLLARS Stein says we need to make it through retirement. Considering I am no where near having that kind of money saved, I had better adjust my attitude about working and be glad that I am mentally and physically healthy enough to do so.

Here are a few more pictures taken with Bob's new camera ...

Uncle Paul and Ella Make Coffee

Waiting for the Cofffee ...

Lissie and Ella

Getting Ready to Play in the Snow

Daddy and Ella

Gathering Snow to Build a Snowman

Uncle Paul and Ella Show Off Their Finished Snow Creature

Ready Or Not ... Here I come!

I made it!

The Joys Of Home Alarm Systems

This morning was perfect for sleeping in. There is a snowy sky and it is cold. Ella slept in leaving her parents to enjoy a few extra minutes of snoozing. Any woman who is almost eight month pregnant appreciates even one additional second of sleep. Coupled with keeping up with a two-year-old all day makes for one tired mommy. A dad who is on the road for an entire week also needs a few extra zzzzzzzzzzzzs. Uncle Paul also enjoys sleeping so when I awoke and realized that everyone else was still abed, I came downstairs as quietly as I could. I sat down to check email and immediately began to hear Shelby, the family dog, whining in the basement. I figured that she would quit once she realized that the human who had been moving around was now completely still, but no luck. Shelby kept mewling and she sounded quite pitiful. Trying to be a thoughtful house guest I decided to go down to the basement to let the dogs out so that they could do their business. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, Shelby was so excited she could hardly contain herself. She raced over to the door that exits into the backyard and danced around. When I got the door open, she flew through it and raced to her spot where she did her business. At exactly the same moment, a high piercing shrill sound that resembled a German police car siren, began to emanate. "Oh, no!" I thought. I've set off the house alarm!! Everyone will not only wake up, but will think an intruder has broken in. ARGH! How could I have been so stupid? Just yesterday, Jess told me that if I wake up first, not to open the front door. "Duh!" I thought. Anyone knows that. So, why didn't my pitiful brain come to the obvious conclusion that any exterior door is a no-no when the alarm is on? ... sigh ...

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Update on the Grandma Front:

I just talked to Rachael and could hear sweet Lil' in the background. Hopefully, we'll get to SightSpeed today so that we can see each other and have a nice chin wag.

Ella was so excited to help Paul make the coffee this morning--something she usually does with her daddy--that she flew across the room to get the chair she usually stands on. As she was sliding it into place, she bumped the counter. "Sorry, chair," she sweetly exclaimed.

Ella is in her element today. She has not one but two men to entertain. She and Paul have been playing together for an hour and now Daddy is back from the store. It seems that Mommy and Grandma aren't as interesting as we were yesterday. Hmmm. Oh, well. C'est le vie.

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Age-Old Question:

How do little girls know how to instinctively flirt with their daddies? I've seen Lily do it and now, this morning, I witnessed Ella shamelessly flirting with Bob. She put her head down and looked up shyly. "Pellegrino, please, Daddy?" (all the while batting her eyelashes). It's no wonder dads are such suckers for their sweet darlings. Who could resist? Heck, I'm the grandma and I would have had a hard time saying no.

Is There Anything Better Than Being A Grandmother?

If there is, I don't know what it is. Each of my grandchildren is absolutely enchanting, yet in different ways. At present I am with Ella who is two and a half. She has dark brown eyes and hair and is a charmer ... like her cousin, Lily. This morning Ella looks so cute I almost wish I could freeze her at this age for a little while. (I felt the same way about my own children.) Ella jabbers away and I can understand her most of the time. This morning she rode on my back and we became a two-headed bear terrorizing Mommy and Paul. She thought this was such good fun she wanted Mommy to become a two-headed bear with her. Mommy declined explaining that she is almost eight months pregnant and the baby is too big for her to carry Ella. No problem, Ella immediately became distracted by something else. One of her "toys" that is a lot of fun is a large fuzzy elephant bank that trumpets like an elephant when you insert a coin. This morning Ella must have put in twenty dollars worth of coins--the same ones over and over--to make Mr. Elephant blare. As soon as the coins were gone, she'd flop him over and unscrew the fastener so that she could dump all of the coins on the rug for a second go.

At present we are preparing to deliver six food-laden trays to Ella's daycare center as a surprise for the teachers. Then, we are going to the zoo. For many reasons I do not like zoos, the main one being that animals should be in their natural habitats. Their role in life is not to serve as entertainment for humans. Years ago prior to television and the Internet I suppose zoos were the only ways for children to see exotic creatures firsthand. Now, however, I believe zoos are an anachronism. Oh, well. I certainly won't ruin Ella's fun by sharing my disapproval of "caged" animals. Even if the zoo creates a "natural environment", I still view the animals as being caged.

Jess is calling out that it is time to go ...

Cook's Illustrated

It's no secret that I love to cook. I always have, even when I was a child. By the time I was ten I was quite proficient at creating many delectable treats. When I was twelve, I became the person responsible for getting dinner on the table each evening. In my Walter Mitty world I dream about attending the Culinary Institute of America. For years I have subscribed to Food and Wine, Saveur, and Gourmet. The covers alone made them worth the money. A couple of months ago I was visiting Terry when I noticed a Cooks' Illustrated sitting on her counter. I picked it up and fell in love. Terry let me tear out one of the subscription cards--the postcard kind with prepaid postage--and I mailed it off the next day. I swear even if you do not like to cook, you will find this magazine fascinating. It is better than any other gourmet magazine I have ever read! It is a feast for the eyes, but not in the slick glossy way of most food rags. The pencil drawings are exquisite. Most of all, I have learned more about food science in the last few months than I ever knew. I now know why some of my pound cakes turn out well and others don't. It boggles the mind that all of these years I have never discovered Cooks' Illustrated.

At Thanksgiving I took my November issue to Rachael's because I knew she would be baking pies. There was a new pie crust recipe that I wanted to try. Rachael admitted that she had never made homemade pie crust--no shame there; pie crust can be intimidating because the dough is finicky and can turn tough in a trice. The recipe in Cooks' was called "Foolproof Pie Dough for a Single-Crust Pie". It caught my eye because one of the ingredients is Vodka. The part that impressed me is the chemistry behind why the vodka is an essential ingredient. Of course the alcohol cooks off but the result is the flakiest pie crust I have ever tasted. This year Rachael made Ruggulach with it and it melted in my mouth!

Here's the best part: In December, Cooks' Illustrated puts out a yearbook which is nothing more than a bound volume containing all twelve magazines, each with its beautiful cover intact. The list price is $26.95, but I bought one at the special price of $19.95. It's money well spent if you ask me. At night before I go to sleep, I read this book as if it were a novel. It's simply that good. Now, if only I had a family to cook for again...

They Got Those Crazy Little Women There...

Paul and I flew into Kansas City late this evening after a smooth and uneventful flight. The best part is that it was a nonstop flight directly from RDU into MCI. Jess and Ella were waiting for us as we exited the terminal and we had a pleasant drive to the Gaulden house in Lenexa. It's quite a drive from the airport to Jess's house, but we had a grand time of it. Ella kept me entertained in the back seat. She kept saying, "Gas. Gas. Gas. Funny gas." Jess translated for me. It seems that Ella has discovered that emitting stinky gas is funny. Why little kids are so enamored of flatulence is beyond me. At two and a half, Ella is quite the charmer. I am always struck by her physical prowess. It is no secret that my family is filled with klutzes who were picked last for ball teams, so seeing someone that is a direct descendant actually able to have great body control is somewhat amazing. My other sweetie pie, Lily, turned two today and when I talked to her on the phone she said, "Hi, Lissie." Nothing warms a grandmother's heart more than having one of her babies call her by name. Sweet tiny Lily. She is so dainty and delicate but tough as nails. Just thinking about her brings a smile to my face.

So, here we are in Kansas City ... er ... Lenexa celebrating the holidays. I truly wish I could be with all of my family for Christmas but that isn't possible. The old saying holds true, though ... half a loaf is better than none.

Odd Twist of Events

Whether or not you like or hate Michael Moore, you should see the movie, Sicko. It is not some liberal pinko view of the state of medicine in the USA as opposed to other industrialized countries. It merely compares our broken system with others that are functioning well. I know firsthand how the British system works because Paul's mother and Auntie Dorothy were well taken care of with no out-of-pocket expenses. Both had doctors regularly coming to the house and both spent much time in a hospital bed, transported for free each time they were inpatients. In each case all medication, supplies, chemotherapy, and so on were provided by the National Health Service. The home-health nurse even came by to plan home modifications including an elevator for the staircase and rails for the bathroom. The nurse came by each and every day to provide home care and to make sure the patients were comfortable and responding to treatment.

I believe the main difference between the USA and other industrialized countries is that we believe in the rugged individual who is solely responsible for himself and other countries believe that a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, thus adopting the philosophy that they have a responsibility for each other. If one link of the chain needs to be bolstered, the other links ensure that it happens so that the chain does not break at the weak point. It strikes me that these countries actually follow the teachings of Jesus rather than merely admire Jesus as a person and deity. Why pay lip service to a religion rather than follow the teachings of its messenger ... in this case of Jesus, the son of God?

Another aspect of our seriously flawed and terminally ill health care system relates to the drug companies. They always claim that their R & D costs are what keeps the price of drugs high. Yet, what they don't tell you is that most of these costs are underwritten by the US government. Read that as YOU and ME, the taxpayers who end up getting kicked in the teeth twice--first, by paying for much of the R & D costs and then by paying exorbitant prices for prescriptions. Adding insult to injury these same drug companies sell their drugs to foreign citizens cheaper than they sell them to Americans. This is a dreadful form of treachery!! One of my mother's medications cost $800 per month and she is now in the "doughnut hole" so all of that was out of pocket. Luckily, the doctor prescribed a cheaper drug that is only $200 per month. So, why do we take this lying down? Shouldn't every child and every old person have access to medical care?

So, what does the title of this blog entry have to do with what I am writing? As I watched Sicko, I suddenly realized that the shoe is on the other foot. For years my girls have teased me about marrying Paul so that he could live in the USA. This has been quite the joke with Rachael and Jessica laughing about calling Paul "Dad". Now, however, it seems that there would be a better reason to marry Paul, one that would benefit ME. If Paul were my husband I would be the one to benefit more because I never would have to worry about health care. NEVER! ... EVER!!!!!!!!! Why? Because if I became seriously ill, I could go to England and be well taken care of. Yes, WELL taken care of. Just as we only hear awful things about Cuba, all we Americans ever hear is how horrid universal health care is. Yet, if you talk to the average person in another country--and I have on many occasions in Germany (where prescriptions cost $2), Italy, Canada (where prescriptions are free), etc.--you will find that they are well satisfied with their health care. Do you know what question I am asked most when I am in another country? It is this: "I just don't get it. Why don't Americans want to have an excellent health care system that is affordable to everyone?" Well, it beats me. I've been asking the same question for years. In my mind good health care should be a birthright, particularly in a wealthy country like ours.

I'll end on this happy little note. Between 2003 and 2005, the wealthiest 1% if Americans gained more wealth than the combined total wealth of the bottom 40%. I love my country and I want it to be the great nation it could be, not one that benefits only the wealthy. Please watch Sicko. The fact checkers have done their homework and what Michael Moore presents is true. Besides, if you were starving wouldn't you rather have something to eat than nothing at all?

The Digital Age?

I'm drowning in paper and it is driving me crazy. I thought once we entered the digital age there wouldn't be so much paper to deal with ... but I was wrong. Every day the pile of paper in my home office grows. It seems that no matter how much I shred or file, the piles increase. Perhaps it is because I am superstitious that I keep receipts long past their useful life. Just how long is one supposed to keep a receipt anyway? Sheesh. I once was audited by the IRS so I suppose that is why I hang on to so much paper. It was quite a shock to learn that the government does not accept canceled checks as receipts and that they only will accept original ones. The audit process was hell and I don't want to go through it again. I am meticulous about keeping excellent tax records. The bottom is I guess I am doomed to continue to deal with too much paper.

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Lily turns two this week. It is so hard to believe that she has been with us this long. I love toddlers. Lily is her own little person and her distinct personality continues to emerge. She is funny and feisty, two characteristics that will serve her well throughout her life. Happy birthday, big girl!

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I took Paul to visit with Rachael, Brien, and Lily and as is usual when Paul is around little ones, Lily took to him right away. Little kids just love Paul; he patiently plays with them and they love it. We left this morning and came back to Greenville to prepare for our next trip. We leave for Kansas City on Wednesday and I am worried about being able to fit everything into my suitcase. First there are all of the gifts. Because they are wrapped they have to be packed. Only unwrapped gifts can go through security. Then there are the books I am taking ... I have two new courses to write and I haven't begun working on them ... and I have an article to review for a journal!! Also, I need to pack the large package of home-baked goodies Rachael prepared for delivery to Jessica. And my laptop ... I have to take it but will do so as my carry-on luggage. That limits what I can take on the plane ... decisions, decisions. I always over pack and this time I am determined not to do that.

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It is, at last, beginning to feel like Christmas. Rachael's tree is always so beautiful and I loved just sitting and looking at it. For me holidays are all about being with family. If I never received a gift, I wouldn't care. Just plunk me down in a comfy chair and surround me with my loved ones. That's just what I'll be doing for the next two weeks. It will require a lot of travel to various locations, but it will be worth it. Happy holidays, everyone.

Relaxing .... Aaaaaah!

Today I am taking it easy. Grades are in--yippee! I have a nasty cold and sore throat and a bit of ringing in my ears. (whine off) Believe it or not, I am taking a day off! Yes, I know that I am teaching two new courses in the spring and I have done nothing to prepare for them. Yes, I have a journal article to review and my house is a mess. It doesn't matter ... at least not today. This morning I did a card-making class for Paul. Talk about the blind leading the blind. I am so new to this and don't much know what I am doing. However, research shows that we humans prefer to learn from someone who knows more than we do but who is not an expert. As an example, I would be totally intimidated if the gold medalist in any sport became my coach. I would want to learn from someone who is functioning better than I am but who well remembers what it is like to be a novice. The card above is one I designed this morning ... all by myself with no Rachael or Woli to help me figure out what to do. It is the only card I have ever designed that I really like. The little penguins are raised above the card giving it a 3-D effect. I know that red and black are not traditional Christmas colors, but the combination is dramatic and I like that. Besides there is no law that says I must give this card to anyone. :-)

Later today, I am taking Paul to meet Molly, Amber, and Honey, the Atkinson's Buff Orpingtons. So far, Amber is the only one laying eggs but it shouldn't be long before Molly and Honey are paying their way. We will have tea with Terry, an especially nice way to relax. Then, this evening Paul and I will continue to take it easy.

Tomorrow afternoon is graduation and I am a marshal. Prior to my zipping over to the coliseum, I am hoping that Paul and I can do the yard work that desperately needs to be done. It is hot as hades here; yesterday it was about 80, but the leaves still need to be raked. My patio is a shambles.

After graduation, I will hie on home, hang up my robe, hood, and tam and leave for Rachael's. Hooray! We will celebrate Lily's second birthday. I can't wait.

Sad Decision

It's been a long time coming but I've made an important decision that has left me a little sad. I've always worked several jobs at the same time ... it's just who I am. I always have my regular job and then I have a consulting business and I also work for a publisher. On top of that I have sold cosmetics for the past four and a half years. Working toward tenure and keeping up with everything has left me with no time to sell makeup and skin-care products. In fact, since I moved to North Carolina, I've only sold to my regular customers, ladies who have been with me from the beginning. After much consideration, I decided to pack it in. It took me over a year to make this decision. I keep telling myself that having only three jobs instead of four will be much better for my mental health particularly since I have been spending almost every weekend with family. Yesterday Paul helped me sort and package most of my inventory. I created a detailed spreadsheet for tax purposes. Today we delivered several cartons of product to the local women's shelter. The lady who took delivery of the donation said that most people give things for children and rarely does anyone give things suitable for women. She also said that most women who come to the shelter flee leaving everything behind so have no personal care products. [I can personally relate to fleeing and leaving everything behind. It was a sad chapter in my life.] Add to this that most have low self esteem after suffering abuse. I believe that women generally do feel better when they fix themselves up, so perhaps my donation will be put to good use. I would like to think that at least one woman somehow was helped. I know that what they truly need I cannot give them. I wish that I could do more ...

Craftsmanship

Handmade Copper Gingerbread Cookie Cutter, c. 1956

The men on my father's side of the family have all been artistic master craftsmen. Dad was classically trained as an artist and I have several of his watercolors hanging in my Blacksburg house. He also loved the practical arts and throughout his long life has crafted many things. I am a nostalgic sort so the cookie cutter that you see above is one of my prized possessions. Dad made it when he worked as a sheet metal mechanic. I was quite young--about eight--and when Dad brought it home a new tradition was born that lasted until a couple of years ago. Every Christmas Mother would make gingerbread boys carefully cutting them so that they were perfect. Then, after they had been baked and cooled, Dad would decorate each one using white icing. He would put scarves and hats, boots, and so no. No two were alike. They were truly works of art but what made them most special--besides the team effort of my parents making something for each of us--was that each gingerbread boy had a family member's name carefully lettered across its tummy. The kids always loved getting this personalized treat and I now wish that I had taken photographs of some of them. About two years ago, the gingerbread making stopped because Mother became too ill to cook. I am now the owner of the cookie cutter and it is one of my favorite treasures. I much prefer receiving things that have sentimental value rather than jewelry or other expensive items.

HMS Bounty Hand Constructed by Robert W. Nabbe

The ship above is one of a fleet that Dad has built over a lifetime. Each ship takes about a year to complete. Frankly, the pictures do not do the Bounty justice. When Dad builds a ship model, he hand cuts the individual planks of the deck, hand carves the lifeboats and oars and hand ties all of the rigging. His ships are masterpieces! He first built ship models when I was a little girl. This hobby continues to this day because he is busy working on another ship. I have been the recipient of three ships and each of my daughters has one. Both of my sisters have ships as do my nieces. To be honest, I am not sure just how many ships my father has made. I would like to have a digital photo of each one so that I can make a mini scrapbook for him that illustrates a lifetime of hard work and painstaking effort.

The HMS Bounty from above

As I think about all of the myriad things my father has built, repaired, and created, it is hard to believe that one person could be so talented. I've long lamented that I did not inherit any of Dad's abilities, but feel blessed to have been the daughter of a man who could do so much.

This and That

Robert W. Nabbe, August 15, 2007

Last fall when I was visiting my parents, Dad gave me an 8 x 10 photo to scan, one taken at his church in August. I wanted the scan to be good archival quality so I waited for Paul to arrive because he is an expert at all things digital. Dad was born in 1919 and can vividly remember his childhood and youth. I love to hear him talk about how coal was delivered by horse and wagon and about hitching rides on trolley cars. His mind is as sharp as ever and he continues to amaze me with things he pursues. I may have mentioned that he just finished--for the second time--Will and Ariel Durant's eleven-volume The History of Civilization. So, Dad, I guess playing drums in that heavy metal band is keeping you young. (Inside family joke.)

Paul survived his ordeal. I've traveled from South Shields back to the USA a few times and it is a trek! Paul's flight from Newcastle to London went off without a hitch, but his plane in London somehow got hung up on the gangway and couldn't take off. Of course this threw everything off so when he finally got to Baltimore and through customs and immigration, he had missed his connecting flight. Eventually he made it to Charlotte and then from there to Greenville. I picked him up about midnight and he is surviving the day a bit jet lagged. Because we will be going to Kansas City where it is cold, I told him to bring his down-filled jacket. He must think I'm nuts because it will be almost 80 degrees here in the Inner Banks today. Honestly, today reminds me of so many Christmases of my childhood sitting on the front porch barefoot. It just never got cold in Florida!

Well, that's it for now; it is time for me to send grade sheets back to my students. It's too bad I can't send Kleenex electronically. Your reap what you sow, and I record the grades my students EARNED! The crying and gnashing of teeth should have happened months ago when the commitment to doing well in the class would have made a big difference. Of course, most of my students did extremely well, but the few that did not will have to pay the price. My conscience is clear; I did everything humanly possible to help be successful.

It's the Little Things ...

Paul arrives from South Shields, England tonight. I am keeping my fingers crossed that he is not harassed by immigration like he was last year. When I pick him up from the Greenville Airport, Paul will have survived many plane changes! He begins his trek in Newcastle and flies to London. From London he will jump the pond to Baltimore where he will change planes and head to Charlotte. From there he will complete his journey by flying into the smallest airport I've ever seen. I thought Roanoke had a small airport but Greenville's is one for the books. It has one gate. When Bob flew in last year I told him he had officially flown into the ends of the earth.

Generally, I am not one to procrastinate, but I have let little things like vacuuming my house slip off the radar. I will get that done before Paul arrives because with my Dyson--the best vacuum cleaner on the planet--it will be easy enough to do. My Dyson completely changed my opinion of vacuuming; I now view it is an interactive spectator sport. I loooooooove to watch all of the gunk in my carpet get sucked into the clear cylinder. The other thing I need to do is make a huge pot of chicken noodle soup. And that is the point of this blog entry.

Years ago, when Paul rented part of my Blacksburg house, we began to team up for meals. At the time it didn't mean much to me, but now I see the value on so many levels. For one thing, it meant that we ate well. We would have a fresh salad every single night along with fresh fish or other healthful fare. While we cooked, we talked, discussing all things esoteric. Breaking bread with someone you genuinely like and respect is about as good as it gets. One winter, I suggested that we make a big pot of soup because it would last for several days and the flavor would improve as it aged. [Aside: I've always made soups and very much enjoy doing it. However, when I moved to NC, I quickly discovered that making soup for one is a losing proposition. I've never figured out how to make a small pot of soup, though I am sure it can be done. While you may not guess this by looking at me, I do not eat much at one sitting. So, a large pot of soup will last me for two weeks and you know what that means. First, I'm sick of it by day five and second, it goes sour and won't last for two weeks. Freezing soup isn't the answer because it turns the ingredients to mush. Blech!] Paul agreed that soup would be a nice change of fare and a hearty meal during the cold Blacksburg winter. I decided to make chicken noodle soup. Paul was an eager participant in the process. Cooking is so much more fun when you can share the work with someone you like. Chopping the onion ... slicing up the celery ... peeling and slicing the carrots ... making the stock ... taking the chicken off the bone ... and so on. There is an old saying that you don't miss the water until the well runs dry and it certainly fits this situation. During our soup-making days, I didn't pay much attention to the great enjoyment I derived from the good conversations we had or the companionable team-mating atmosphere. As I look back on it, making soup with Paul is one of my favorite memories. Today, however, I will make the soup by myself so that I can serve my jet lagged friend a steaming bowl of soup that says, "Welcome home, dear friend."

Friday

I drove to Williamsburg today and went via the back roads eschewing the congestion of the Interstate. My trip began on NC 11/13 to Suffolk where I picked up 58 for a few miles and exited onto 460. In Wakefield I turned onto 31, a two-lane blacktop road that I traversed for many miles ending up, finally, at the Jamestown Ferry. [Those of you with good memories can hum along ... "He just caught the Jamestown Ferry; it's a hot day in January" ...] Luck was with me because the ferry was loading as I arrived. The trip across the James River--named after the same King James who was responsible for the most popular translation of the Bible--was slow and peaceful. The day was cool, about 50, and clear. As we passed Jamestown Island, I could see the obelisk and the statue of John Smith in the distance. We offloaded on the peninsula where the recreated Susan Constant, Discovery, and the Godspeed are docked. This is the spot where Queen Elizabeth visited last spring as it is the 400th anniversary of the establishment of the first permanent English colony on the North American Continent.

Rachael and Brien live just a couple of miles from the ferry. I drove a mile or so up Jamestown road and cut over to Route 5 on Ironbound stopping at Florimonte's deli to pick up a few rations for the weekend. When I arrived at Rachael's, Lily seemed excited to see me ... well, at first anyway. Lily and I get along well, but when Rachael and Brien left to go to a social event, she was inconsolable ... for about five minutes. Then, realizing she was stuck with me, she decided to make the best of it. I can't blame her for wanting to cling to her mommy who looked ravishing! It's been a while since I've seen Rachael look so glamorous and it suits her well. Lil and I read books together and she ate dinner standing on a stool at the counter. That was one fight I wasn't going to take on. What difference did it make? Bedtime was a breeze. I told her it was time to brush her teeth and she willing made her way upstairs with me stopping to grab Fluffy and Bear. After we attended to her teeth, Lily and I went into her room, played a bit of music and danced for a few minutes. Then, I sang Rock-a-Bye, Baby and put her into her crib. She smiled at me and I told her good-night. She made not one peep!

Rachael and Brien have a television set that requires a computer science degree to figure out the various remote control devices. I decided to play it safe and watch the CNN Heroes presentations. I tuned in during the middle of the program and immediately began to cry because the show also paid tribute to the numerous heroes who saved lives during the tragic massacre at Virginia Tech. Those are my people! I lived in Blacksburg for 32 years and still have a home there that I visit as often as possible. At present it is my mountain getaway, but soon it will be my permanent home again. I cannot wait. Blacksburg is unlike any place in the world. I am widely traveled having visited four continents so I know of what I speak. Every time I go home have a little ritual I follow, something I did weekly (or more often when I lived there full-time). I drive around the drill field both at night and during the day. The beauty of the campus is incomparable. I have never once felt unsafe in Blacksburg or on the Tech campus. I remember many nights when Paul and I would be on campus rather late, sometimes in a lab, more often hearing a speaker or attending a cultural event. I have walked across campus at night many times all alone. Now, when I drive around the drill field, my eye is drawn to Norris Hall and the memorial. When a parking space is available I stop to pay my respects. So, my drill field ritual is now accompanied by my tears.

Tomorrow Rachael and I will work on making gift tags which is a bit funny because all of my gifts are already wrapped and tagged. Oh, well, I can always save them for next year. Then, on Sunday Rachael and her friends are making Christmas goodies while I watch Lily who will probably want to be right in the middle of the action. I'll go home Sunday afternoon and then will work hard all day Monday to get finals graded and final grades submitted. Then, Monday night I will pick up Paul from the airport. Yippee! Our British buddy is coming for a nice long visit. I promise not to harass him too much. ;-)

The Fixer ...

... that's what I want to be in my next life. I want to be able to fix everything. I want to make everything all better. But in this present life I can't fix things ... at least not like I want to. My mother is an invalid and she is difficult to care for. Her quality of life is greatly diminished and she sleeps most of the time. I want to fix that. My father is lonely with no one to talk to. He had eye surgery today but it won't repair the half sight he has in one eye. I want to fix that, too. Jessica and family are sick--vomiting and worse--and I'd like to make that go away. I want to fix it so that Paul can stay in the USA as long as he wants. He's brilliant and would be a huge asset to this country, not only because of his unbelievable knowledge of computer science, but because he is a law-abiding gentle person. I have a close relative who has financial problems and I'd like to make them go away. Another close family member has serious health problems that I'd like to cure. Mostly, though I'd like to take away all of Rachael's pain ... but I can't ... no matter what I do. And it sucks.

Deck the Halls ...

... well maybe not the halls because I am not decorating my house for Christmas save the festive candles I have burning everywhere ... or unless you count my livingroom which looks like gift-wrap central what with all of the packages I have carefully wrapped. When I was a child well into my teen years I thought the best job a person could have would be the package wrapper at a large department store. I wish I were still enamored of the task. Any more it is just one more thing to do. And with relatives all living out of town it requires not just the wrapping but also the packing and shipping. What I probably should do is wrap each gift as I buy it. This is actually a funny idea because I buy presents all year long and have such a poor memory. Think about it. I would wrap a Christmas present in June and carefully label it for the recipient. Then, come December, I'd have no idea what was in the box. Hee hee hee. When the person called me on Christmas day, I'd have to ASK what the present was. For some reason this seems pretty funny to me.

Another issue related to my poor memory and the fact that I buy presents all year long is that I do not always remember what I have bought. This is a true story: At my Blacksburg house I always put gifts in the back of my bedroom closet which also contains all of my clothes, shoes, purses and other accessories. More than once I have found a gift well after Christmas ... a gift that did not get wrapped or sent. Worse, Rachael reminded me tonight about the lost topaz pendant I bought for her a few years back. This time I didn't forget about the present but when I went to get it out of my closet to wrap the gorgeous thing, it was nowhere to be found. To this day it has not turned up. The stone was huge and cost quite a bit. It's not the money that matters; it is the aggravation and the amount of time I put into trying to find it and the fact that Rachael never got to wear it. My closet has never been so tidy and organized since that time. I literally took everything out and put each thing back one at a time. No topaz slide. No special present for Rachael. Boo hoo hoo.

In my efforts to get presents ready tonight, I am carefully wrapping the last of the things I bought from Mr. Ron's shop. ARGH!!! Oh, how I miss Mr. Ron and his shop full of goodies. I talked to him about a month ago and he said he was thinking about opening up in a new location. I immediately began salivating. Hopes have been dashed, though, because I drove by the place he mentioned and there was no Mr. Ron and no Mr. Ron goodies. Double boo hoo hoo.

This is almost enough to make me say, "Bah! Humbug!" ... but Rachael would never forgive me. She loves Christmas too much to let me turn into Scrooge even though she lets Paul slide on this one. There is only one thing curmudgeonly about Paul and it is his attitude toward Christmas. C'mon, Paul. Get in the spirit. Next week at this time I will be picking you up from the airport. That alone is reason enough to celebrate Christmas. It will mean that you have survived the officials at immigration that put you through the wringer last year.

Books, Books, and More Books

Today I acquired six new books! I don’t know where to begin reading. Well, I know where I should begin reading … I desperately need to brush up on statistics so I should start with the two stat books I purchased … a little light bedtime reading. The sacrifices I make so that I can do my job well. All kidding aside, I am actually looking forward to reading the books. I’ll never claim to be a quantitative researcher, but I ought to be able to speak intelligently about statistics and better understand the quantitative research articles I read.

The other four books are ones I downloaded from my subscription at audible.com … my tastes in reading reflect who I am … eccentric and eclectic … so here goes … The first book I downloaded is one I mentioned a while back—This is Your Brain on Music. More about that in a bit. My next choice was an odd one even for me, but I’m a sucker for historical events that happened in my childhood and youth no matter how tawdry. So it is that I am now the proud owner of Christine Keeler’s book, The Truth at Last, written forty years after the scandal broke. Boom! by Tom Brokaw is the third book I downloaded … for two reasons. I like Brokaw’s writing and the book is about the 1960s. Last, my penchant for true crime led me to acquiring John Grisham’s first nonfiction book—The Innocent Man. I chose it because I want to see if Grisham writes in the “nonfiction novel” genre popularized by Tom Wolfe. I haven’t decided which book I’ll listen to first, but here’s some interesting information from This is Your Brain on Music.

This graphic is interesting. See it better at this site: http://images.theglobeandmail.com/archives/RTGAM/images/20071020/wsacks1020/20N_MUSIC_brain_500big.jpg

Have you ever had a mind-grinding song run through your head ad nauseum? Of course you have. I don’t know of any human who has not experienced this plague on the brain. It turns out that scientists call songs that get stuck in our heads "earworms". Not much is known about this phenomenon—though a little government funding might get to the bottom of the matter. What is true is that the tune tends not to be a whole song but just 15-20 seconds of one. It is usually a simple song that even non-singers can hum without effort. Some people get earworms to such an extent that it interferes with their ability to function. Antidepressants and anti-anxiety drugs can help alleviate the problem because they relax the brain’s circuits. What is more unusual—at least to me—is that some people become musicians because of earworms. Neil Young, the ole raggedy boy himself, reported that he started writing songs because he couldn't get rid of the tunes in his head. So, let’s hear it for earworms! Without them we might not have songs like “Cowgirl in the Sand” and “Southern Man”.

After I finish the book about the effects of music on the brain, I’ll post a synopsis. I won’t do that for the other books, though, unless they provide information so riveting that I can’t stop myself.

Ahhhhhhh

There is little that is better than a good night's sleep followed by a restful day. I awoke late and decided to stay mostly in bed for the day. I have been grading, watching old movies, and talking to family on the phone. I also watched portions of the VT - BC game. The last eleven seconds were quite exciting. Go Hokies! My cold is abating and I've quick aching. Hooray! I'm taking it easy again tomorrow and will get even more accomplished.

Today is December 1st. This is hard to believe as it was Halloween just the other day. Paul arrives on ther 10th and then the whirlwind of activity begins. I'm resting up for it!