Strep

Michael said...
Looks like summmm-budddy got a new Niiii-Kon!

Serena said ...

Yup. Armed and dangerous. :D

2007 Bumper Stickers

I received this by email, and thought some of these were too good not to pass on!

My Pedophile Priest Supports Traditional Marriage

1/20/09: End of an Error

That's OK, I Wasn't Using My Civil Liberties Anyway

Let's Fix Democracy in This Country First

If You Want a Nation Ruled By Religion, Move to Iran

Bush. Like a Rock. Only Dumber.

If You Can Read This, You're Not Our President

Of Course It Hurts: You're Getting Screwed by an Elephant

Hey, Bush Supporters: Embarrassed Yet?

George Bush: Creating the Terrorists Our Kids Will Have to Fight

Impeachment: It's Not Just for Blowjobs Anymore

America: One Nation, Under Surveillance

They Call Him "W" So He Can Spell It

Whose God Do You Kill For?

Cheney/Satan '08

Jail to the Chief

No, Seriously, Why Did We Invade Iraq ?

Bush: God's Way of Proving Intelligent Design is Full Of Crap

Bad President! No Banana.

We Need a President Who's Fluent In At Least One Language

We're Making Enemies Faster Than We Can Kill Them

Is It Vietnam Yet?

Bush Doesn't Care About White People, Either

Where Are We Going? And Why Are We In This Handbasket?

You Elected Him. You Deserve Him.

Impeach Cheney First

Dubya, Your Dad Shoulda Pulled Out, Too

When Bush Took Office, Gas Was $1.46

Pray For Impeachment

The Republican Party: Our Bridge to the 11th Century

What Part of "Bush Lied" Don't You Understand?

One Nation Under Clod

2004: Embarrassed

2005: Horrified

2006: Terrified

Bush Never Exhaled

At Least Nixon Resigned

Are We Kinder and Gentler Yet?


Michael said...

One Nation Under Clod

Priceless.

Algebra Final Exam:

Just something to look at if I feel like moping . . . Life is Good!

I Failed.

Well, I failed my first test. Ever. And in Accounting, no less!

Interestingly enough, the sky didn't fall, nobody died (or even bled a little bit), I continued breathing (after a brief moment of gasping desperately for air after receiving my grade), and life continued.

I emailed my professor, "I certainly didn't have the grasp on this material that I thought I did." He was kind enough to have an evening telephone chat with me to explain where I went wrong. I don't take comfort in the fact that my 64 was still one of the best grades in the class. Apparently everyone has a problem with receivables. Including me.

I'm okay, though. Interesting feeling. Not one I'd like to get accustomed to, but hey. I'm human, and that's fine. I'll work harder at it, and I'll remember to ask questions if I'm not sure about something. After all, what are the professors there for but to teach?

Happy Thanksgiving!

I love Thanksgiving. It isn't the weather, although this year it was certainly mild and easy to drive in. It isn't the food, although the food certainly is wonderful. It's the time with family, the socializing, admiring the new baby, seeing how much the little ones have grown, chatting over pumpkin pie about different preparation methods, chatting over clean up about new recipies, chatting over tea about life in general. My extended family takes it for granted. They have no idea how lucky they are, or how lucky I feel that they have made my son and me a part of it.

I had a conversation with my brother a couple of years ago about cooking, and one of the things he told me is that sometimes the key to learning how to cook something is in the kitchen chat. One woman in the kitchen will say to another, "I just love the [insert dish of choice here]. What is the secret ingredient?" or something to that effect. A technique is shared, or a new recipe is added to the arsenal. Today, I got to chat with Aunt Marlene.

I just loved this cucumber salad she served with dinner tonight, and Ian ate it like it was going out of style. So, over cleanup, I asked her, "How did you make that wonderful cucumber salad?" It was so easy! She chunked up some cucumbers, poured some Ranch dressing over them, and sprinkled on a little oregano. What a great idea! Another recipe/technique added to the arsenal.

The entire dinner was wonderful. Turkey that just fell off the bones was accompanied by mashed potatos, yams, squash, corn, cucumber salad, radishes, grapes and rolls...and HOMEMADE stuffing! I am SO full and I'm going to sleep for a week!

And for dessert, Bunny made the pies. There was pumpkin pie, pumpkin creamcheese pie (which is my personal favorite), apple pie and chocolate birthday cake. Which led to a chat about tradition...

Aunt Marlene always puts a quarter in the cakes she bakes. It's for luck. What a hoot!

This is the first year Aunt Marlene let me help out in the kitchen after dinner. I enjoy her so much, and I feel so privileged to be a part of her family's celebration.

Especially the chatting part.

Getting fed is just a bonus. I'll take it! :-)

(photo from www.thanksgivingabout.com)

The Tabors

(Image taken from http://www.crwflags.com/fotw/flags/si-184.html)

or

http://www.houseofnames.com/xq/asp.c/qx/tabor-coat-arms.htm

or

http://www.5dollarcoatsofarms.com/gallery/T/pages/image003.html

I guess I need to find out more about where we came from!

Michael said...

Don't forget that our name might be a truncation, with that fact hidden in our family (lots of folks are ashamed to admit to Slavic blood).

For years, folks asked me if Tabor was Hungarian. The only Hungarian Tabors I know about are Roma - another stigmatized group.

Just thought I'd muddy the water for you. :D

Serena said...

Thanks. My mind wanders to thoughts of hara-kari.

Actually, I came across published genealogies (not to be taken as written in stone, mind you; anyone can publish a genealogy) that trace our origins back to England. According to one, our ancestor came from Essex, England to Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1630. (Descendants of Thomas Taber 1924, compiled by George L. Randall, published by Higginson Book Company).

We really are mutts, though, in a manner of speaking. Hungarian is entirely possible. And then we have the Fassett line, connected by Great-Grandfather Charles Tabor's wife. They allegedly came from Scotland and were formerly known as the MacPhersons, having changed the family name to protect themselves from extinction by Cromwell.

And, of course, we have mom's roots in Ireland, Mexico and England.

When people ask me what nationality I am, I tell them the best answer I can give. "I'm American." 'Mutt' just doesn't have a very nice ring to it.

Michael said:

Woof. :D

Insight from Ma

"An 88 on your Accounting test this morning? That's not so bad."

"Yeah, but I'm sure I could do better."

"Sweetheart, combine that 88 with your other grades and you still have an A. Not that THAT is such a big deal. Your mother is dead, and I'd bet your father doesn't give a fig. STOP OBSESSING."

All right, I'll admit it. I'm being too hard on myself. An 88 is good. I'm a single mother, I work full-time, and I've got a full course load. I'm tired. I don't need to be perfect. I must be a bit kinder to myself. I think I will sleep in tomorrow.


Michael said...

Your Dad always thought a C was just fine. Remember?

Just go at a pace. The numbers don't matter anywhere near as much as the internal gains you are making.

Serena said...

True. I'm learning so much. And I'm loving Algebra!

More on Aging

My son...what a jokester...

"Mommy? Did they have TV back in the old days when YOU were a kid?"

Michael said...

No, honey, we pressed styluses made out of reeds into wet clay tablets in a script called "cuneiform." Then we baked the clay tablets in ovens until they were very hard. Then illiterate folks stole them to make stone walls and sidewalks for their houses...

Serena said...

It's true! It's true! You know, this morning he was asking me about the dinosaurs like I was there. It's hysterical. He says, "My mom is gonna be 42," and he makes it sound like I was there when Eve at the forbidden fruit. Unbelievable.

Michael said...

And the Hebrew-speaking snake. Hey - here's an article about the dinosaurs being wiped out by an asteroid.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20061201/sc_nm/dinosaurs_impact_dc

Now you can sound like you were an eyewitness. :D

Tracy said...

I know I'm a late responder; but I do have a good one for you!

The first time Teri saw an actual record (yes I still have a ton of them, unfortunatly I do not have a record player anymore.) Her comment:'Look at these BIG CD's mommy'

Oh and her face when she saw an 8 track....

Aging

(This is an Internet joke - I have no idea who to give credit to, but it sure made me laugh...wincingly.)

Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, "Surely I can't look that old!"

I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist when I noticed his diploma hanging on the wall. It bore his full name and I suddenly remembered a tall, handsome dark-haired boy with the same name. He had been in my high school class some 40-odd years before and I wondered if he could be the same guy I had a secret crush on way back then?

When I got into the treatment room I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was much too old to have been my secret crush... or was he?

After he examined my teeth I asked if he had attended Morgan Park High School.

"Yes, I did. I'm a Mustang!" he said, gleaming with pride.

"When did you graduate?" I asked.

"1959. Why do you ask?" He answered.

"Well, you were in my class!" I exclaimed.

Then that ugly, old, wrinkled son of a bitch asked, "What did you teach?"

Bumper Sticker

"If you think gas prices are high now, wait until after November 7th."

Too true to be funny.

Michael said...

Already reports are pouring in (mostly from Florida) of voting machines that will not allow a choice of Democrat (you select the Dem, the machine says you voted Rethuglican).

Ironic that we cannot call the UN to supervise our increasingly fraudulent elections.

Halloween

Ian is so cute. (Not that I'm biased or anything...) He doesn't really get into the door-to-door trick-or-treating thing. Last year we only went to about 5 houses; this year we went to about 20. He got his little pumpkin half full of candy and said, "Mommy, I have enough. Can we go home now?" Amazing. That will probably change when he gets older.

I have got to get me a half-way decent camera. I'd have loved to catch the look of delighted suprise on his face, which showed each time someone gave him candy. He was so excited at all the different kinds! He's a great kid.

Unintended Lessons

Sometimes I feel compelled to write. The words come out of me with the force of hurricane winds and, heart pounding, I in turn find myself pounding on the keyboard, unable to type fast enough, not being able to stop, desperate to get the feelings out of me, out of me, faster, faster, and onto cyberpaper where it belongs, like the words are poison that must be quickly and forcefully expelled.

And then I am relieved. The storm is over, and I can find calm.

My first English Composition paper was to write a descriptive narrative about someone that had influenced us, either positively or negatively. I started to write about my relationship with my mother, and I couldn’t stop.

Oh, it’s not a pretty essay. Be forewarned. But it was cathartic, and I feel better, calmer.

I’m going to be fine. And also as importantly, so is my brother. And because we are going to be okay, so will my son.


My relationship with my mother effectively ended on my 18th birthday. The road to its destruction began in my early childhood, a rough and windy path commencing in some of my earliest memories. I did, however, learn many good lessons from these negative experiences.

I was born into a religion that never made sense to me. My parents were strict to the point of being unreasonable, insisting that my siblings and I walk a religious line that was incomprehensible to two of us.

One of the first religious principles I learned was, ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child.’ (Proverbs 13:24) This came right on the heels of, “Children, be obedient to your parents in union with the Lord.” (Ephesians 6:1) I remember it as if it were yesterday.

I was three years old. We were living in an upstairs apartment on the west side of Buffalo, behind Grover Cleveland High School, during the period that race riots sometimes occurred during dismissal. I was small enough to be able to walk under the dining room table without ducking. My favorite piece of furniture was a little wooden blue chair, just the perfect size to fit between the two desks my parents had sitting in the dining room. It was the perfect place to hide.

My brother, seven years my senior, asked too many questions. In the spirit of ‘spare the rod’, my mom beat him with a wooden paddle, bruising him about his back, buttocks and thighs. The voice in my head was screaming, “Noooo!” as my brother stoically took what he was deemed to have deserved. I hid, crouched in that little wooden blue chair, between the two desks in the dining room, long brown hair covering my tear-filled blue eyes, eternally hoping I wouldn’t be noticed. I learned not to ask questions. I must be quiet.

While growing up, I was not permitted to socialize with any of my classmates or to join in any extracurricular activities. I was not permitted to read any material but those the religious society produced. When I wrote book reports, I wrote them concerning various religious materials my mother chose for me to read. The voice in my head continually asked questions, screaming in frustration at my inability to voice them. I, however, was well-taught. I must be quiet.

I graduated from high school as class valedictorian at age 16. I won scholarships and may have been able to call my own shots. I was not permitted to attend college. I am a female. It was my Christian Duty to become a missionary for a few years, preach the “Good News in Foreign Lands”, then marry, have children, and care for my household. A career was not necessary – no, a career was forbidden. I must be quiet.

My eighteenth birthday finally arrived, and with the age of majority, I left the religion. I told my parents I wanted no more part of it. They, in turn, accused me of promiscuity and drug abuse. I was directed to leave their home almost immediately.

I felt like a complete failure, unloved and unable to be what my mom wanted me to be. I was completely crushed, and the voice in my head became silent, not for lack of questions, but for a black cloud of depression. I felt I deserved the hard times I received, the “wages of sin”. I married because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do, and I divorced after my husband, while ‘teaching me a lesson’, cracked my ribs.

As difficult as it may be to believe, I have learned many good lessons from these negative experiences. After leaving the religion and getting divorced, my life education began.

I have learned that religion doesn’t have to be a straight-jacket. I can ask questions. I can embrace science and concepts that make sense to me. I have no ‘religion’, and that’s okay. I no longer have to tow an incomprehensible line. I no longer have to be quiet.

I have learned that the way I was reared is no way to treat a child. My son asks questions; I encourage him to ask questions. He gets loud. That’s okay; he’s five. It’ll be okay when he’s ten, and fifteen, and twenty. He will never be beaten. He will know that he is loved by my hugs, kisses and praise. I support him. I am proud of him. I let him raise the rafters with his joie de vivre! LOUDLY!

I have learned that the way I was brought up is not the way a female should be treated. I am an intelligent human deserving of opportunity and accomplishment. I am neither a baby factory nor a whipping post. I am a single mother, I support my family, and I am finally getting my education. I am still sometimes quiet, but the voice in my head no longer screams. I can scream aloud if I need to.

I have learned I don’t want my son to have feelings of incompleteness when I pass on. I wish that my mother and I had resolved our issues, that she would have accepted my adult choices, that we could have conversed honestly, but I have learned that will never be possible.

My mother died June 18, 2006, culminating the end of the relationship that began to die on November 23, 1982. My brother and I spoke at length about how her passing brought relief, but with it a tremendous sense of loss. We still speak about our feelings of loss, but in our conversations and our writings, we find comfort. We are no longer subjected to physical or verbal poison arrows. I no longer must be quiet.


Michael said...
>… stoically took what he was deemed to have deserved...

Nope. I was full of rage and hate, because it was a contest of wills – (internally) “No matter how hard or how long you do this I will not cry. I will not give you the satisfaction of winning.”

Serena said...
Funny how our viewpoints were so different then. I had no idea what was going on in your head. I'm so glad it's over.

Oh, The Weather Outside is Frightful…

We broke records in the Buffalo, New York area on, yes, Friday the 13th. We were the lucky recipients of 6 inches to 2 feet of snow, depending on where your house was, from the time the snow started falling on Thursday to when it finally quit on Friday. Here are a few pictures from Reuters:

Buffalo, New York

Clarence, New York (a suburb of Buffalo)

My neck of the woods, Tonawanda, New York

They have recommended that we stay indoors because of the falling trees and downed power lines. Ian wants to go outside and play. He just sees the snow, which means fun. I get the Mean Mommy award again.

I do have to say that the strangest part of this time of year, other than freak storms, is having mittens and shorts in the same load of laundry.

Gold

Here’s a cool link my brother found…

Do you know someone who is worth their weight in gold? I am worth more than I care to admit.

God

It occurred to me that, during the course of history, when man hasn’t understood something, he assigns a god to it. The God of Fire. The God of Thunder. The Goddess of Love. Soooo…Isn’t Christianity just a modern-day version of, say, Greek Mythology?

I have my usual fall sinus thing going on. Hmm. The Gods must be angry.

Michael said...
The SINUS God must be angry. :D

Sadness

I woke up this morning feeling sad. It was an awful day at work yesterday, it's raining, it's getting cooler, summer is over.

Perhaps I need mornings like these to fully appreciate happy days? Still, I'd rather do without.


Michael said...
“It was an awful day at work yesterday, it's raining, it's getting cooler, summer is over… and my mom died a few months ago.”

No matter how complicated your relationship with your mother was, it is still a powerful loss as an unconcious reminder of mortality and our individual solitude on the planet.

And death is final. All hope, however closely held or carefully hidden from yourself, is over. There will be no reconciliation, no understanding, no happier outcome, no forgiveness, no welcome, no acceptance, no validation. The door is closed.

These are emotional awarenesses, not rational ones, and I think the heart holds desires that the mind fiercely denies.

I think some of your sadness is the leakage of a small, vulnerable child crying for her mommy.

Serena said:
You know, I didn't think of that. You are are probably very right, especially since just your comment brought tears to my eyes.

I am finding writing somewhat cathartic. My first 'paper' for my English Comp class is to write four to five pages about someone who has had an influence on me, either postive or negative. I started to write about mom, and ended up writing about me. You'll see it here when it's done. I'm in rough draft right now.


Michael said...
In a related vein, when I wrote the Ocean Blue post http://lensbrushquill.blogspot.com/2006/07/ocean-blue.html

I should have been more direct, I guess. I should have simply said, “I’m having a hard time coping with all of this loss, but I know there is nothing anyone can do to help."

Serena said ...
I read that shortly after you posted it and wept. It may have been the first time I cried since mom died. I think you were direct. You expressed so well what we go through, and you're right. No one can help.

I wonder if our situation is different from those of many other people. A friend of mine told me, "I don't know what I'll do when my mom passes. I'll be a mess!" I don't feel a mess. I'm sad. We never will have what we needed and wanted . . . to be loved, unconditionally, and accepted, without judgment or caustic comment. That, in and of itself, is sad.

As you put it so well, "The heart’s deepest wish is to lovingly bonded, and the soul’s deepest need is to be understood." I wish...

English Comp Essay: Freewriting Exercise

My assignment last week in English Comp was to freewrite for ten minutes straight, not stopping for spelling errors or punctuation errors or even when I ran out of thoughts. The topic was to freewrite concerning something that had angered or frustrated me in recent weeks:

False advertising, or at the very least, companies who don’t deliver what they propose to deliver. On-line education should be on-line. Many people have a multitude of reasons why traveling to a campus to sit in a traditional classroom is not conceivable. Single parents working full-time. Business travelers. Last semester I took a course with a soldier in Iraq. The war doesn’t stop for orientation. Remember the audience, be careful not to offend. Assuming knowledge that no offense is meant, on-line education and distance learning should be just that. I expect to receive what I pay for. The cable company is another entity that doesn’t deliver. Every month the price goes up, but no extra services are rendered. Perhaps they need to recoup all the money they lost in their white-collar scandal. Loads of consumers dissatisfied with them, and turning to satellite television instead. I wonder if that is a viable option for me. Do satellite television companies deliver what they say they will? What exactly do they promise? And how misleading are the cable television commercials when speaking about satellite services? The price of gas keeps going up; I think that’s the Republicans not delivering what we are paying for. I should probably stay away from the political. I wonder if my audience for these papers will be just the professor or if we will be ‘discussing’ ideas with our classmates. Ideas exchanged on-line, of course, from a distance. Distance learning should not be turned into an oxymoron. It’s extremely frustrating, and will quite probably result in my changing educational institutions. I wish I had defied my parents and obtained my education when I got out of high school 25 years ago in a traditional manner. There’s another thought…reasons people don’t go to college. Financial obstacles. Religious objection. The folly of youth.


Michael said...
Excellent stream-of-consciousness capture.

This is the sort of thing that you observe in zazen meditation, but do not attach to – you simply observe these thoughts passing in your head like a river. Eventually you learn to stay out of the river – to not grab onto one of those thoughts and stay with it, ride it to wherever it goes. The word “non-attachment” has a powerful meaning in Zen – the ability to let things happen without feeling judgment, without feeling the need to get involved, to try a “rescue,” or to attempt to alter anything. It’s a tough trick at first, but it’s pretty cool once you have the hang of it.

In another direction, this is the sort of writing that you look at in five years and marvel at your overall mood… Save this in your journal. It’s important. Don’t have a journal? Start one. This process of “education” is going to profoundly change your life in a good way, and it will be a powerful gift to yourself to have preserved a record of where you came from, and how long the journey was.

You go, girl!

Serena said:
Thanks! I just let it floooooooow. For my first paper (I described it in the post above), I started with freewriting, too.

I don't have a journal. I guess this blog is the closest thing I have to one. I feel more comfortable at a keyboard than with a pen and paper. I should rethink this, though. If this site decided to discontinue their service, my thoughts would be lost.

What do you think?

English Comp Essay: Forgetful

My assignment this week (in English Comp) was to write a paragraph concerning a specific topic. On the list of choices was, “Barb is forgetful.” The twist was that I was not permitted to use the word “forgetful”, nor was I permitted to use another form of the word (“forgot”) or a synonym of the word. Here is what I came up with:

Barb begins each day with the search for her to-do list, carefully placed on the counter in plain sight beside the lunch she packed the night before, so she can walk out the door without either of them. She once left the house without first checking to make sure her clothes were in order, leaving for work without putting on her skirt. There are times she doesn’t know how she got to work. All is well that ends well, though, as she is always in the right place at the right time to pick up her son.

Michael said...
Sounds... autobiographical... :D

Serena said...
Durn tootin'.

Got all the way to work just to discover I didn't have my skirt on. One of life's more embarrassing moments. I can laugh now, but then? I wished the floor would have opened up and swallowed me whole.

Bussing Frustration

Why is it that I live five minutes from my son's school, and it takes 1 hour and 35 minutes for the school bus to get him home, when he is the "second stop"?

Taxpayer dollars at work.

The school district provides one bus for the school my son attends, which has an elementary school, a middle school, and a high school. He is dismissed at 3:10. The bus then pulls around to the high school and loads the high school students at 3:40. Then the bus goes to the middle school and loads the middle school students at 4:10. By the time every bus is loaded and they are on their way, it is 4:45 when my son is deposited at his stop.

Why is it that I seem to be the only one who sees something wrong with this picture? Why isn't the bus taking the little ones home and then going back to the middle school to get those students, and why aren't the high school students bussed separately?

I have no idea who to call. I called the school district transportation department and got nowhere. They don't have enough busses, is what I'm told. Yet last year he was home by 3:35.

Ridiculous.

Logic Humor

Question:

You are traveling in a car at a constant speed.

On your left side is a double Decker bus and on your right side is a fire engine traveling at the same speed as you.

In front of you is a galloping pig which is the same size as your car and you cannot overtake it.

Behind you is a helicopter flying at ground level. Both the giant pig and the helicopter are also traveling at the same speed as you.

What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?

Answer:

Get off the children's Merry Go Round, you're hammered.


Michael said...
Very funny! Thanks for posting this!

Serena said...
I had been deeply engrossed in Algebra homework when I decided to take a brain-break and check my email. I was sitting here thinking, "a bus and a fire engine and a pig...huh?" before I realized it was a joke. Takes me a minute, sometimes. :D