by jphilo | Jan 24, 2012 | Current Events
For those of you who read the Winter Blitz supplement in the local Shopping News last week, let me set your mind at ease. My name is not Jeanne Philo, even though the “Pen to Pen” ad says it is. Rest assured, the owner of the Book Shoppe (where the “Pen to Pen” gathering will be held this Saturday, January 28 from 11 – 2) called as soon as she saw the mistake.
She felt terrible.
Really terrible.
She apologized.
About ten times.
Even after I assured her I was not upset.
And that I would still attend the event.
Though I plan to sign any books sold as Jolene Philo.
Not Jeanne Philo.
Since we’re on the subject, this is a good time to clarify a couple other things. First, I have never had a facelift. However, my professional photographer friend who took my publicity pictures, including the one above, got rid of several wrinkles with PhotoShop.
On the pictures only.
Not on my real face.
You come can to the Book Shoppe on January 28 from 11 – 2 and see for yourself.
No facelift.
Plenty of wrinkles.
Second, my body hasn’t been butt lifted either. I’d never heard of butt lifts until our pastor mentioned them in his sermon on Sunday. (If that made you curious, get the whole story by going to www.graceccboone.com. Click the “Sermons” tab, and then click on the January 22, 2012 sermon link and have a listen.)
However, for the past month and a half my butt feels like it’s been through surgery.
Thanks to my physical therapist.
She looks really sweet.
But she assigns nasty butt exercises.
To strengthen my glutes which she says are weak.
But I think the exercises were used to torture people.
During the Spanish Inquisition.
Even though the PT doesn’t have a Spanish name, face, or accent.
So now you know the truth. My name hasn’t changed, my wrinkles are real, my butt is sore, and the PT is probably an ex-marine who served at Guantanamo Bay. Anything more you’d like to know?
Or are you afraid to ask?
by jphilo | Nov 21, 2011 | Current Events
Shhh…don’t tell the iWeb people at Apple about the WordPress graphic on this blog page. Let’s keep the upcoming switch from iWeb to WordPress here at Down the Gravel Road between ourselves. The switch should make this site much faster for readers, which is a very good thing.
And the new bells and whistles it’ll offer are nice, too.
My favorite techno-buddy, Ray, has all the incomprehensible-to-my-small-brain details lined up and ready to go. He’s waiting for me to get done transferring blog posts from this blog to the new one under construction. We thought we’d figured out how to do it in one fell swoop.
But no.
So I’m transferring four years worth of posts one by one. The bugs have been worked out (through painful experience), and each transfer goes fairly quickly. But there are a lot of posts, so the whole process is taking a lot of time.
A lot of time.
But, I’m using the hours and hours and hours required for this mind-numbing process to watch DVDs of TV shows on my always-wanted-to-watch-but-can’t-justify-allocating-time-to-them category.
Shows like West Wing.
And Parenthood.
And a BBC series called Monarch of the Glen.
And – hold your breath –
Glee.
Yes, Glee. The show I swore off as a protest against their Madonna-as-role-model-for-young-women episode in the first season. To be honest, the rest of the series was better than I expected. Even though I still have issues with many of the values it promotes.
But wait.
This post is about the blog transfer, not about the TV shows that have made the transfer tolerable. So here’s the scoop: The last of the posts should be moved to the WordPress site by tonight. After that, all that remains are choosing the SEO phrases so search engines will find the blog, and building a few other pages. Once everything is ready to go, the switch will be announced on this blog and Ray will make the switch. Which we’re praying will go off without a hitch.
Wishful thinking, perhaps.
So to be on the safe side, I’m checking the latest Parenthood, Monarch of the Glen, West Wing, and Glee DVDS from the library. Because my web tech issues will pale compared to those of the Bravermans, the laird of the estate, President Martin Sheen, and the glee club nerds.
I call it WordPress de-stress.
Ahhh.
by jphilo | Nov 14, 2011 | Current Events
Have you ever heard of Help A Reporter Out, or HARO for short? It’s an internet service for reporters looking for experts to interview for stories. Workshop leaders at writers’ conferences encourage authors to subscribe to HARO and respond to queries. Why? Because being quoted in online or print articles is 1) free publicity and 2) raises credibility.
That’s the theory anyway.
But the reporters writing articles about my area of professional expertise, special needs, have yet to pick up on my responses to their HARO queries. However, my one response to a query about a topic where I have only personal experience, parenting adult children, resulted in an immediate contact from the reporter. Apparently, my stint as mother-of two-going through-two-weddings-in-three-months is a bigger draw than author. Or speaker. Or educator.
So much for my professional expertise.
Emily Morman, the reporter, emailed this morning to say her article had been published in southeast Michigan’s MetroParent. She included the link, so I hurried on over and skimmed the article looking for my name (yes, I am that self-centered) among all the names quotes.
And there it was, looking as credible as all get out.
My name was there, along with the names of several people were quoted – a psychologist, a couple young adults, and several parents. Like me. Everybody quoted sounded pleasant. And wise. And real. Even me. Which goes to show that personal experience is as valuable as professional training.
The next query about women married to strong, silent Alaskan natives is all mine.
by jphilo | Oct 21, 2011 | Current Events
With more and more air time devoted to the Occupy Wall Street movement, it’s hard to ignore the issue. On this morning’s walk, the movement intruded on my thoughts several times. Pretty soon, I was so het up I couldn’t think straight. So I thought about my thinking (also known as meta-cognition, for those of you who are easily impressed by big words) in an effort to untangle them. Once the untangling was complete, only four thoughts remained.
Thought #1
Don’t these Occupy Wall Street people have anything better to do with their time? Why aren’t they doing something productive? Why aren’t they trying to find jobs?
Thought #2
I wonder how long some of the Occupy Wall Street people have been out of work? How long have they been searching for jobs? How many times have they tried and failed to get work? How would I feel in their situations? Hopeless? Like a victim?
Thought #3
Lord, become their hope. Bring your children to walk beside them rather than to condemn them. Show them Christ, the source of true hope to the poor, the weak, and the dispossessed.
Thought #4
Lord, I am so ashamed of my first thought. How can I judge and condemn others when you don’t condemn me? Forgive my judgmental thoughts and attitudes. From now on, make my third thought my first thought. Grant me compassionate toward the poor, the weak, and the dispossessed. Show me how to be Christ to them.
![Hopeful Enough to Drive By]()
by jphilo | Sep 15, 2011 | Current Events
Scuttlebutt around town is this. The workplace that was my home away from home for eighteen years, the school where my second family worked for nine months of every year, has been demolished. We all knew Bryant School’s demolition was going to happen. In fact, before the building closed in May of 2010, I went back to say good-bye, took pictures, even blogged about it.
I’ve been avoiding that part of town, ever since the building went down.
One thought of the empty block where Bryant School stood,
one mind picture of the ground leveled and grass growing over the foundation,
and I start crying.
Silly, I know.
But having a significant piece of the past erased (and a piece of my kid’s pasts, too, since they went to school there) is harder than I expected.
But this week, some breaking local news made me willing to confront the present instead of mourning the past. On the first attempt, our town passed a bond issue for a new high school. Pretty amazing since the community has a thirty year history of repeatedly voting down school bond issues, eventually settling on compromise solutions that are than second best.
But not this week.
The bond issue passed with 79% voting in favor of it. When the news came, I thought of something my son said when he was in high school. “Mom, why would I ever choose to live in this town as an adult when the people don’t care enough about kids to build decent schools?” I had no answer, only sadness for the message the voting public repeatedly sent to young people in our town. Today, on the other hand, I am proud of my town for passing this bond issue in the midst of economic hard times.
The bond issue news has me feeling hopeful again.
Hopeful enough to face the ghost of Bryant School.
Hopeful enough to dream about our children’s futures.
Hopeful enough, I think, to visit the place where my home away from home once was.
Hopeful enough to laugh through the tears when I drive on by.
by jphilo | Sep 12, 2011 | Current Events
Hiram was gone last weekend, enjoying the annual guys-riding-motorcycles-on-winding-roads weekend with my sister’s husband. Therefore, I started my annual I-can-do-whatever-I-want-since-there’s-no-one-around weekend with a walk on the recently completed High Trestle Trail not to far from where we live.
The twenty-five mile trail runs along an abandoned Union-Pacific railroad line. Every inch of the scenery along the 3 miles I explored was lush and lovely. The crowning jewel was the half-mile long, High Trestle Bridge across the Des Moines River. The Des Moines River valley is loaded with spectacular views, so I was expecting the beautiful view.
But I wasn’t expecting the old railroad bridge turned walking/biking trail to be a work of art. Yet with lovely twin pillars at each and a canopy created with iron girders turned every which way, the bridge was at the breathtaking center of panoramic scenery.
The beauty was so distracting I forgot to be scared of heights, and that’s saying something for someone who thinks the third rung of a ladder is too far off the ground for comfort. Sure, halfway across the bridge I had the fleeting thought, “This would not be a good time for the New Madrid earthquake fault to act up,” but then the circular pattern of the girders distracted me, and I went back to thinking “pretty” and “shiny.”
My only regret is that Hiram wasn’t there so we could see it for the first time together. Then again, maybe we can trek across this Iowa treasure together when the leaves start turning in a few weeks. In the meantime, perhaps I can pick up a seismometer cheap on eBay and start monitoring Iowa’s earthquake activity. Then again, I could throw caution to the wind and live dangerously.
That sounds a lot easier than the operating manuel for a seismometer, don’t you think?
