by jphilo | Aug 4, 2009 | Daily Life
For most of my life, August has been a torturous month, and not just because of the almost unbearable heat and humidity that makes the corn in these parts grow while the people wilt. For my sixteen years as a student and my twenty-five years as a teacher, it marked another unwelcome event: the return to school.
When I left teaching six years ago, August became one of my favorite months. No return to a hot, sticky classroom for me. No abrupt loss of freedom, piles of papers to grade, endless teachers’ meetings to attend, or reluctant students to corral. Every August I kicked up my heels, said a few prayers for my teacher friends, and typed away, though it took three or four years before my stomach quit twisting into knots at the sight of the back-to-school ads.
So far, this August has again been sheer torture. Why, you ask, when A Different Dream for Your Child will be released September 1? Isn’t your life exciting and fun now?
No, and I’ll tell you why. Preparing for the book’s release, which is the only thing on my to do list for the month, and more specifically, getting www.differentdream.com, the book’s companion website, up and running, is sheer torture. And to make matters worse, I’m paying a web designer good money to enter the torture chamber and turn the screws. He’s a very polite and knowledgeable young man who has yet to snicker at the inane questions I ask him, though there’s no hidden camera recording his behavior after our phone conversations end.
But, he’s a pretty tough task master, none the less. He even offered to assign homework and deadlines if I needed more motivation. I declined since September 1 is plenty motivating. Under his insistent, patient tutelage, this old dog is learning a whole lot of techie tips, and the website is taking shape.
Will it be up and running by the book release date? Yes, in fact you can go to it now and see how it’s progressing.
But will the site be perfectly complete? No. And something I learned during my teaching days keeps my perfectionistic self from imposing unrealistic expectations this torturous August. One long ago day, when I was stressing myself out by trying to be ready for the entire year before the first day of school, the realization dawned that I didn’t need to be completely ready. I only needed to be ready for the first day, or maybe for the first week. Immediately, my stress level plummeted, along with my blood pressure and crabbiness. The last bit made my family very, very happy.
If I can keep that lesson in mind this August, maybe the whole month won’t be sheer torture. Maybe the web designer and I will even become friends, though that’s doubtful. In my opinion, he’s in the same category as my gynecologist.
Enough said.
by jphilo | Jul 15, 2009 | Daily Life
If you’re wondering what’s going on with this website, join the club. It has something to do with Mac’s launch of MobileMe: the newer, faster system designed to replace .mac, the system that posts my entries to this blog, along with your comments. The switch started July 12 and things aren’t going well. I was surprised to see yesterday’s post on my website. When I tried to publish the post, I received a message saying an error occurred. So I’ll be optimistic and hope I can publish again today, no matter what kind of message I get!
If you’ve tried posting a comment to previous entries, you already know that’s not working. The very nice and slightly overwhelmed Apple Support lady I spoke to on the phone said they don’t know when things will be working. So hang in there, and enjoy the picture of the pink fairy rose I took at my uncle’s Minnesota farm last weekend.
Also, I’m traveling from July 16 – August 4, and internet access will be poor at best. So keep checking in and look for a big update in early August. In the meantime, I’ll check in when I can.
by jphilo | Jul 7, 2009 | Daily Life
July’s hot, humid weather doesn’t endear the month to most Iowans, unless they are swimming pool managers or own a Tropical Snow kiosk. But the first half of the month makes my top ten list because during those weeks, my flower bed reaches its peak.
The flower bed is low maintenance, not because the flowers in it are easy to care for, but because I’m more of a talker than a doer when it’s time for nitty-gritty gardening. See, I’m not big into heat, sweat, dirt, mud, hauling garden hoses around the yard, poisonous herbicides and insecticides.
So, you might be asking, why does the woman have all those flower beds? I’ll tell you why. They were here when we moved in and can’t be taken out, thanks to the concrete bed liners someone installed back in the day when things were built to last. Basically, we’re stuck with them, and this is why I like the first half of July. For this brief Camelotian moment, there is no better spot for happy ever aftering than my flower garden.
If you’re in need of a fairy tale moment, now is the time for you to come to our house. You can spray yourself down with bug repellent and plunk down by my flower beds from now until about July 15. But bring your own lawn chairs. Ours went missing a few weeks ago after a picnic in the park.
Just goes to show how quickly these things pass. So don’t wait! This fairy tale moment is available now. Come quick before it’s gone for another year!
by jphilo | Jul 6, 2009 | Daily Life
This past Independence Day proved that despite our best efforts; eating right, exercising, applying sunscreen, and refusing to wear suspenders and appliqued sweatshirts; Hiram and I are starting to show our age.
This devastating truth became apparent during our community’s Fourth of July barbeque and municipal band concert. We held up pretty well during the meal since we turned down the baked beans to avoid gas issues later. But once the band started playing one patriotic song after another, all of which we could sing along with because we’d learned the words in elementary school music class, we deteriorated rapidly.
I went all soft during the Armed Forces Medley, when those who served in Army, Navy, Marines, Coast Guard, and Air Force were asked to stand at the playing of their branch of the military’s song. Seeing those men, forcing their stooped shoulders and creaking limbs to stand proud and tall, brought tears to my eyes. Hiram’s moment of truth came when he got tearye-eyed during the piccolo solo in The Stars and Stripes Forever.
But the final indignity came when we were too tired to join our dinner companions, all about our age, for the fireworks. We declined and went to bed. By nine-thirty, we were both snoring and slept like babies all night, thanks to our no-bean diligence earlier.
Since we turned fifty, we’ve thrown away every AARP mailing we’ve received. But this past weekend has me thinking it’s time, once we lay in a supply of suspenders, shoes with good arch supports, prune juice and Beano, to fill out the paperwork. I’ll mention it to Hiram at supper tonight, after I serve the baked beans. That should put him in the right mood.
by jphilo | Jun 23, 2009 | Daily Life
I was up with the birds this morning, but at 6:30 was already seventy-seven degrees and humid as all get out. Walking was pure torture, and sweat dripped into my eyes and soaked my clothes. Yuck!
Since the temperature will most likely hit the high nineties today, I decided to divert my normal bent to complaining about the weather and make a list of things I can be grateful for on hot days. Here goes:
1. I live in the age of air conditioning, refrigerators, and ice cream
2. Lemonade, iced tea and iced coffee
3. Water
4. Our CSA share – someone else picks our vegetables in this heat!
5. The promise of a good sweet corn season
6. Sleeveless shirts and capris
7. A husband who doesn’t mind cold suppers
8. Shade trees
9. An indoor job
10. A four season climate
11. A week of vacation in the Idaho mountains
Truly, I have so much to be grateful for, even on hot days. What’s on your list?
by jphilo | Jun 4, 2009 | Daily Life
Our little gravel road was hopping with activity at the crack of dawn today. The garbage truck came by before 6:00, and I was out walking by 7:15. The yearling doe was by the bridge when I got there. Either she snuck out when her mom wasn’t looking or Mom didn’t ground her forever. One way or the other, the two of us did some more bonding during a lovely photo shoot (I was camera-ready – hooray!) before she got skittish and ran into the woods.
Good thing we were both early birds. A few minutes later, the road grader lumbered by, and its operator lowered the blade. He’s been pretty scarce this spring, so I forgave him for shattering the morning quiet. The man barely had time to work up a good head of steam before the recycling truck came from the other direction. Watching them decide how to get past one another on a humpbacked gravel road so washed out it’s down to one narrow lane was most entertaining.
I had to alter my route to stay in front of and/or behind the road grader, and with all the interruptions it was hard to keep track of my goal, which was to walk four miles. The experience made me think about yesterday. The fam was home, the phone rang non-stop, a four-year-old entertained me for half an hour or I entertained him – I’m not sure which, emails interrupted my writing time, the doorbell kept ringing and bridesmaids streamed through the kitchen and up the stairs for dress fittings with Anne.
As I got less and less writing done on the day I’d hoped to write more and more, I grew testy. “Life would wonderful,” I muttered, “if it weren’t for all the people.” The more frustrated I grew, the more similar thoughts crossed my grinchy little brain, and the more I lost track of my goal: to show Christ to people, first by the way I live, and then through my writing. And if I don’t live right, why do I assume I can write right?
Today, thanks to three big trucks and one small doe, the goal is visible again, and that’s good. Accomplishing it won’t be so easy. But I’m going to try. What else can I do?
