No Slave to Fashion

These are socks:

These are Crocs:

Can I wear my Crocs with socks?
Some might mock these Crocs and socks,
but I'll ignore their petty knocks,
and they may just react with shock
at how I rock these Crocs and socks!

In Praise of the Wish List

I started an Amazon wish list a year or so ago. It was really just a tool to help me remember the things I wanted. Of course, it is self-evident how fortunate I am that I need reminders of what I want. How can I describe the items on that list? They are things I consider luxuries; stuff I want, but don't want to buy.

When Heidi shared the existence of my list with my family, my first reaction was umbrage. Hey! That's my covertly coveted collection! It's a secret... I thought, until I started to receive the items on it. What a pleasure it was on Christmas to open the fermenting crock and weight stones I had so long ago wished for and forgotten.

This year, for my birthday, my family practically cleaned out my list, and I must say I have been both surprised (as dim-witted as that may seem) and delighted to receive each gift. Homemade ice cream? You betcha. Brightly colored sneakers? YES! Cast iron grill? Wow! What a difference! Burr grinder for highest quality coffee? Hooray!

So, although I'm quite sure that St. James did not have anything like this in mind, his words are undeniably fitting: You have not because you ask not.

And now I do have, because I'm lucky to have such a family with such resources. All that's left is to count my blessings.

Thanks everybody!

Prequel without Equal

We saw Monsters University today with Richard, Annabelle, Riley, Treat, and Emily. And it might just be the good company talking, but I'm going to go ahead and call it the best darn prequel I've ever seen.

OK, to be honest, how much competition is there in the prequel department? Star Wars? Not so much. Temple of Doom? Nope. There are some reboots that might be considered prequels (Batman Begins, X-man First Class) if they weren't um... reboots. Then there are some prequel-sequels, consider Terminator 2 and Godfather II, but do they count? Meh. Monsters U, on the other hand is a pure sequel and it has a few things going for it.

To begin with, I liked the original, but I wouldn't say much more than that. In fact, when my students wanted to watch it on the bus to our end-of-the-year field trip, it was with a shrug and a yawn that I punched play on that particular DVD. Once it was on, though, I started noticing that impeccable Pixar attention to detail, like the way Boo's laughter blows the circuits way back in the first part of the movie, and I confess to being impressed.

I think that's one of the reasons I liked the prequel, too. It is its own movie with a very entertaining plot, but the continuity with the first one is seamless, and this story enriches that one, particularly in the area of character development.

Plus, it has Helen Mirren.

Pool Time

We spent a couple of hours at the pool today with a 7, a 6, a 5, a 4 and 1-year-old. Oh, there were splash battles and tea parties, cannon balls and dive contests, and even one life guard whistle (for running), but there were no harsh words and not a single tear. It's a pretty safe bet everyone is going to sleep well tonight.

When we were kids, every summer meant at least one visit to Aunt Harriett and our cousins, Jimmy and Bobby. They lived on a couple of acres in the country, but their close friends and neighbors, the Wilsons, had an in-ground pool that they were kind enough to share. After fun mornings, most of our afternoons were spent there, and many times it was just our moms and us-- having splash battles and tea parties, cannon balls and dive contests.

I remember two things clearly about those days. The first is the sign that the Wilsons had prominently displayed: We don't swim in your toilet, please don't pee in our pool. I guess there was just something about the symmetry of the construction that made me feel guilty every time I peed in that pool, either that, or it was a little freaky imagining the Wilsons, Jack, Leona, John, and Karen, so tall and so tan, swimming in my toilet.

The second thing I'll never forget is how everyone conked out at night-- no matter our big plans to eat ice cream, play cards, hunt fireflies, watch TV, whatever, it was always hard to stay awake much past dark. We didn't fight it, though, because we always knew that tomorrow would be another fun day.

And it will be. Some things don't change.

Kick 'em to the Moon

My niece Annabelle loves to sing. She comes by it honestly-- her grandmother pretty much has a song for every occasion.  My mom has been teaching us songs about every holiday, this river, that town, the moon, the flag, camp, you name it, for as long as I can remember. She even taught us cheers when we were little from her high school days, so it was with a great sense of familiarity that I chimed in with Annabelle yesterday in the car as she shared one of the cheers she learned in camp this summer:

California oranges, Texas Cactus, Annabelle started.
We think your team needs a little practice! I joined in with gusto.

But it was when she started singing What a Wonderful World a few minutes later that my ears really perked up. "I can play that one on the ukulele!" I told her. And so this morning, I did, and it was magnificently awful to hear a five-year-old belting out that Louis Armstrong classic with her novice ukulele-playing aunt strumming along.

So what? Go ahead-- put us in a high chair and feed us with a spoon.

Summer Equation

656 miles
13 hours
a basket of peaches
a fried green tomato BLT +
two helpings of green beans
a squashed penny on the train tracks
Richard and Annabelle for 10 days
___________________________________
Lookin good, July!

Trust but Verify

Yes, the title of this post quotes Ronald Reagan, a man not too ideologically similar to myself. Or at least I thought so at 18 when I first voted and voted against him. I did him the same courtesy in 1984, but I was outvoted by my fellow citizens again that year.

When you're young, well, okay, when I was young, everything seemed much more absolute, particularly right and wrong. Reagan was wrong, and I was right. Back then I developed an affinity for the liberal press, particularly the New York Times and NPR. How gratifying it was to read and listen, especially since it seemed like they reported just what I was thinking.

To this day, I love them both, but I am no longer their yes lady. It's to the point where I swear NPR is more conservative than I am, especially their big-data lovin' ways. Perhaps it started with the 2008 election and the giddy infatuation with Barack Obama. Regardless, it continues with their mindless reporting on education, particularly standardized tests and national standards.

Maybe it's because it's taken some time, but I do feel like I have some first-hand knowledge and perhaps even expertise on some of the things they are reporting, particularly education. Such a perspective makes me much more critical of what I'm hearing and reading.

Just yesterday, I listened to an interview with fireworks expert, John Conkling. It seems that true blue is the holy grail of fire crackers, and you can tell the caliber of the show you are seeing by the intensity and brightness of the blue. At the end of the piece Conkling is asked whether the average person would be able to tell if the blue was true.

"Well, it's something that people who have really been involved with fireworks look for when they watch a show. But for the average person watching our Fourth of July show, the other colors that are out there, the patterns they produce, the effects they shoot up in the air, the timing, it just is so overwhelming that there - I think very few people who leave the show saying, boy, I wish I'd really seen a good blue," he says.

And that's how it is with press coverage; if you don't know what you're looking for, it all seems like a really good show.