Life is short

Saturday morning, DH and I learned that a close friend and coworker of his had passed away suddenly, having collapsed shortly before being released following outpatient surgery.

She was 45.

There's such a tangle of emotions right now that it's difficult to unravel. I know she's in a better place, but at the moment it seems small comfort. I grieve for the husband and daughter she left behind who now have to make their way without her. I regret not having gotten to know her better than I did. I grieve because my DH does and I cannot help but share his emotions. I worry about losing DH, or about my family losing me.

I thought I'd come to terms with my mortality the first time I lost a friend, almost 20 years ago, but I discover that I haven't. Not really.

But I also need to remember that although death may find me at any time, I shouldn't be so wary of it so much that I fail to live.

We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death. ~David Sarnoff (from quotegarden.com)

Shoveling the civic doody....

Well, I have been a good citizen and done my civic duty. If you have an election coming up and have not already done so - vote! I personally think that if you don't vote you shouldn't gripe about the results since you didn't put in your 2c (or 2p).

Although I admit, doing one's civic duty is more like shoveling civic doody - so often most of the races are a matter of choosing the least of the available evils. I try to be an informed voter, and I make use of the sample ballots to do research on the presented candidates and issues as best I can, winnowing down the choices until only one remains. Sometimes, though, the choice can only be made by some arbitrary mechanism if all other qualifiers are exhausted. Often, this involves voting against the candidate whose smear ads I saw first, or against those who have left 'vote for me!' messages on my answering machine. Or in the case of a city council race this ballot, the candidate for whom I saw fewer roadside signs.

I will be glad when today is over. I am heartily sick of the campaign ads on television, in my mailbox, and on my answering machine. It's even more annoying that so many of the candidates don't even address their issues, but fill up the airways with "Don't vote for Candidate N"! They sound so much like a group of preschoolers calling each other "poopyhead!".

Although I did see one interesting roadside campaign sign yesterday: "Vote for Joe Schmoe...for the hell of it!". Definitely a different take on things. Joe Schmoe wasn't on my ballot...although I might *almost* have been tempted to vote for him if he were.

For the hell of it.

Quote to ponder...

I came across the following quote last night, and it struck a chord with me:

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken....
....The only place outside Heaven where you can be safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell." - C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

There was once a time when I would have liked to have been like the rock mentioned in the Simon and Garfunkel song "I Am a Rock". Perhaps fortunately, I never quite succeeded in that, and looking back I think my life would be much poorer if I had.

Yes, an island never cries, but neither does it smile.

On forgiveness

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.” - Lewis B. Smedes
“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” - Mahatma Gandhi
"The hatred you're carrying is a live coal in your heart, far more damaging to yourself than to them." - Lawana Blackwell
"Holding a grudge is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die" - unknown

I came to a few realizations yesterday. One of these is that I have to acknowledge my own culpability in the situation that has had me so stressed the past while. I saw only what I wanted to see, and didn't see what I didn't want to, until the illusion was fully unmasked and I had no choice but to admit reality. That I was deceived is partly my fault, though it does not excuse the other party's actions. And so a good deal of my anger really should be directed at myself for being so naïve.

The other realization is that I really do need to forgive and move on. I was reading C.S.Lewis' The Weight of Glory last night, and one of the pieces that appeared was "On Forgiveness" - as if to nudge my mind down the path it seems hesitant to tread. Forgiveness is not excusing the wrong (although there may be some mitigating circumstances to be found), nor is it pretending the wrong never happened. It doesn't mean we should continue to trust when it has proven folly to do so, or to throw good money after bad. But it does mean moving on, leaving all the resentments, bitterness, hatred, and injured pride behind. Objectively accepting the reality of the situation, taking whatever life lessons need to be applied if necessary.

My anger injures no one but myself (and likely causes amusement to the other party). It's time for me to let go of that. This anger is a waste of energy, a source of stress that I really don't need.

Quotes for the day...

"A liar will not be believed, even when he speaks the truth." - Aesop

"Anyone who doesn't take truth seriously in small matters cannot be trusted in large ones either." - Albert Einstein

"Trust is like a vase.. once it's broken, though you can fix it the vase will never be same again." - unknown

Addendum, 1pm EST: Four months now, and each time I think I'm over the whole situation, a new deception or betrayal presents itself, and I feel hurt and angry all over again. About the only good I can find is that if I still hurt, I at least still care.

A little knowledge...

Today is the feast day of my chosen patron saint, St. Isidore of Seville (560-636). This 6th-century Spanish bishop was one of the great scholars of the middle ages, and is a Doctor of the Church - one of his best-known works was the Etymologiae, a 20-volume encyclopedia of sorts collecting all knowledge available to him at the time - nature, medicine, classical knowledge, etc. The Etymologiae was one of the most popular collections in medieval libraries and remained in use into the Renaissance - about 900 years.
He's also been proposed as the patron saint of the Internet, and of computer folks. I first heard about him while I was in the process of converting, and the more I read about him, the more he seemed a lot like me, and so I adopted him as my patron. How could you not like a guy who loved to learn about everything?

DH jokingly refers to him as "St. Isildur", and came up with this gem this morning:
Saint Isildur of the Encyclopedia...

One Book to rule them all, One Book to find them
One Book to bring them all and in all Wisdom bind them
In the Land of Madrid where the data lies

Using the Tolkien reference to segue to another Inkling, I'm about halfway through C.S.Lewis' Miracles, the third book enclosed in his Complete Signature Classics omnibus. I said I'd finish the entire thing by the end of Lent, so I need to get reading! Lewis is always an enjoyable read, but I've been spending more time stitching lately. After I finished Laura's square in February, I decided I enjoyed doing small pieces. I started keeping a small project in my purse to fill spare minutes, and have already finished three things this year!
My first finish for myself this year was Sweetheart Tree's "Wild Violets" (with a few mods).

March was spent on two shamrock-themed pieces, the second of which I finished last night:
Sweetheart Tree, "Tangled Shamrocks" (with mods).

Sweetheart Tree, "Celtic Challenge" (with mods).


Other than spending more time stitching than reading, I've been doing pretty well on my Lenten resolutions. I've managed to avoid the snooze button...and let me tell you, that has been a major challenge since Daylight Screwup Time hit Sunday. I'd gotten used to it being light when I get up! I've gotten a lot better about not yelling at DD, although I have slipped up a few times. I still need to work on that a bit more.

So basically, life is good. Although I'm still rather far short of sainthood.

Luke: I am your father...

In the story of the Prodigal Son, much is made of the father's reconciliation with his wayward son when the son returns from a dissolute life and had hit rock bottom.

It occurred to me today that the flip side of the story is that in order for the repentance and reconciliation to happen, the father first had to let the son go, to allow him the freedom to make what he would of his life, even though the father likely foresaw that it would end badly.

And I see now that as a parent, it's the hardest thing to do, to let our children go free to frell up their lives. But in order for either parent or child to really grow, it has to happen.

Even when it hurts like all hell to let go...

Decisions, decisions...

So I have two big decisions to make within the next couple weeks, and I am struggling a bit with them.

The first and more pressing matter is...what do I want for my birthday? DH asked me last week what I want, and I had to answer honestly that I had No Idea. Seriously. A glance at my amazon or stitching wishlists reveals that there are a LOT of things I wouldn't mind having. But none of them are pressing wants or needs at the moment, and there aren't really any particular things that are calling louder than any others.
A query of friends brought forth the suggestion of a spa day - after all, every woman deserves a little pampering. But honestly, I feel a bit uncomfortable with the suggestion and I can't put my finger on why. Maybe it's that I would feel uneasy knowing a large sum was spent on me for no tangible reason. Or that I've never had most of the services before - facial? manicure? pedicure? Never had any of them in my life. Now, a deep tissue massage sounds good, as does a hot mud bath like I've seen on Dirty Jobs, but I also know I'd feel guilty about it. Don't know why. I'm just not a high-maintenance type gal. And the kind of money involved would buy a number of things off my wishlist.
Another popular suggestion is jewelry, especially with my birthday so close to Valentines Day. DH has given me a number of beautiful pieces worthy of a Duchess over the years, and I cherish every piece, but I rarely wear them - they're too elegant for daily wear and I'd be afraid of losing one of them. I don't really wear much jewelry on a daily basis - just my rings and my cross and medals. Occasionally earrings, but less often than I used to. DH keeps threatening to get me diamond studs but I'd be deathly afraid of losing them! And he already got me a beautiful amethyst and diamond necklace for our anniversary anyway, which fulfills my desired jewelry quotient for the next several years!

So I don't know. I've toyed with the idea of a bike, that's more of a Christmas-sized item. Gift certificates to needlework stores, maybe. Chocolate or tea are always nice little items - suitable suggestions for my kids.

But really, just a nice dinner out with my family and a decadent dessert or a pint would suit me just fine. Good food and good company, what more do I really need?

My other big decision is what to do for Lent, which starts on March 1 this year. The past few years I've been both trying to give up something, and start something. Last year I gave up sweets (which was tough while we were in Germany!) and said I'd do an examination of conscience daily (which went right out the window due to time constraints). Previous years I've given up caffeine (done that multiple times), and swearing (just once, but my language is much cleaner). I don't eat all that many sweets, so I don't think that would be much of a sacrifice. Caffeine would be, but I do that almost every year.

My latest thought is to give up...the snooze button. I confess my use of the snooze button borders on abuse some mornings. So setting my alarm a tad earlier and NOT hitting the snooze button would certainly be both sacrifice, and a good thing. And with getting up earlier, I could do the daily readings in the morning instead of cramming them in at the end of the day. And then I could be better about making time to walk in the evenings. That would be a good thing.

Anyway, I'm open to suggestions for either of the above...

Bibliophilia!

*taps mic, coughs nervously*

My name is Belinda and I'm a bookaholic.

I took a list with me to a local bookstore over lunch today, and of the 8 books on the list, only one was in stock. And yet I still managed to walk out with over half a dozen! (Granted, half of them are for DD, but still...) I am such a hopeless case sometimes - I don't think it's possible for me to walk into a bookstore and come out empty-handed. There's just *something* about holding a bound block of paper that overrides reason.

The bookstore said they could order the remaining books for me, but if I'm going to be ordering books, I'll do it from amazon. I did at least check my local library system, but only two of the books are even in the system. I really should take more advantage of my local library.

I'll probably grow up to be one of those little old ladies that has a compulsive need to hoard. At least books are better to hoard than cats - the SPCA won't come down on me for having stacks of books all over my house! (That, and DH is allergic to cats...)

Perhaps it's genetic. My late maternal grandmother had thousands of books. Granted, at least half of those were those cheesy pulp romances that she used to buy by the case at yard sales. I don't *do* romance - the closest I'll get are some historical fiction authors who could also fall in the romance camp, but it's gotta be good historical fiction. Otherwise, I'll read darn near anything else except political commentary and most non-fiction (I'm extremely picky about my nonfiction). I have a special fondness for sci-fi/fantasy and classic literature, with historical fiction gaining ground.

Hm. If I apply to become a branch of the local library system, could I claim books as a tax-writeoff? *laugh*

But hey, if I must have an addiction, at least books are a healthy one. Unless one counts sleep-deprivation from "one more chapter!" syndrome.

Monsters

Many young children are afraid of monsters - the monster under the bed, the monster in the closet, monsters cast by shadows in the darkened room. When I was younger than my DD is now, my childhood terror was the overhead light - we lived in a ground floor apartment and lights from the parking lot cast shadows that made the light appear to move toward me. I hid under my covers while my childish imagination put visions of fired laser blasts at me, like some alien spacecraft. And to this day I vividly remember a nightmare about being chased by a double-belled alarm clock that swung down a hall toward me like a pendulum-axe from some black-and-white horror movie. Of course, I laugh now at the dream, but these were what terrified me as a young child.

As a mother now, I find I am afraid of monsters again. But this time it is not the closet monsters, a la Mike and Sully from Monsters Inc., but the real monsters in our midst.

The monsters that prey on small children and do unspeakably evil things.

The monsters that blow up commuter trains during rush hour.

Unfortunately these monsters don't transform into discarded clothes when you turn on the light. And you don't know they're there until it's too late. These are the monsters that scare me now. It's not myself I fear for, but my family. And even taking the most extreme precautions can't guarantee that the monsters don't get them. I never felt so helpless as I did on 9/11, and some of that helplessness came back today when I heard about the bombings in London.

I hear about terrorist attacks, or about the seeming epidemic of child abduction/murders, and I wonder what kind of world I brought my DD into. I'm torn between the need to keep my family safe, and the need to let them grow, and it's a very tough call.

When I was my DD's age, I'd go out to play in the neighborhood and not put in an appearance til dinnertime. Yet I live in a more upscale neighborhood than I grew up in, and I don't let my DD play outside alone. When we're outside our home I rarely let her out of arms reach. On one hand I know I'm being a bit overprotective, but on the other I know there are a lot of sick bastards out there, and I don't want to be the one plastered all over CNN while I grieve and search for my precious child. I know it frustrates DD, who would love to just run about and play, and be a kid. Where do I strike the balance?

Terrorists I can do nothing about, so the best I can do is to live my life as normal. But like predators, they are the monsters that hide among us.

I know it's unChristian of me, but I find it very difficult sometimes not to wish death or worse on those that abuse children, and it infuriates me because so many seem to be repeat offenders. I can't even *begin* to fathom how these people think...

And for the terrorists...well, like the old joke goes, I hope there are 72 Virginians waiting there for them in eternity.

Hitting the deck...

This weekend, DD's bestest friend H is spending the night. Both girls are very much looking forward to it!

In the process of shopping for food and other items, I picked up a card game called Slamwich. It looked like a lot of fun for smaller children, a slapjack variant with the cards shaped like slices of bread with various sandwich reagents on them. We played a game last night, and it was pretty fun. It also reminds me a *lot* of a game I learned to play in high school called Egyptian Ratscrew. Great fun, if a little rough on the knuckles sometimes.

Thinking back, that simple stack of 52 has provided literally *years* of entertainment. I can't remember a time when I didn't know or enjoy any card games. I have a vague memory of being about 4 or 5, and playing Old Maid with some stepcousins. Old Maid was one of the first card games DD learned, followed by another old standby - Go Fish. Another fairly simple game was War, which one could play just about anywhere (including schoolbus seats). That and Crazy Eights got a lot of lunchtime play in my elementary school years, as well as other table games like pencil (or paper) football and penny soccer.

I learned how to play Solitaire fairly young as well, and I played quite a lot of it during my lonelier times, and knew several variants such as Clock and Pyramid. Everyone knows Klondike (your standard 'red 9 on black 10' Solitaire that anyone with MSWindows has played at least once), with Freecell and Spider being popular software variants, but there are so many more.
(A place called Pretty Good Solitaire claims to have over 600 variants.)

By the time I was in junior high, I had picked up games like Rummy, Hearts, and several types of Poker, though I've never played poker for anything more high-stakes than small-coin antes. Another bluffing game I remember playing a lot in junior high was B.S., though I don't think I've played it since 9th grade. That got trumped by the aforementioned Egyptian Ratscrew, as well as life in general.

Speaking of trumps, at a previous job, I learned how to play Kaiser, a bid/trick game similar to Spades. A group of us would play Kaiser over lunch a couple times a week for years. I actually got pretty good at bidding well and interpreting what a partner's bid tended to mean, before folks in the group (myself included) left the company. I learned how to play Spades while travelling in Italy last year. In a way, Kaiser served me well in figuring out Spades, but it also coloured the way I looked at a hand (how do I ditch the 3♠?). I do enjoy trick-based games, and I would love to learn how to play Euchre and Bridge someday.

Commercial card games are growing in popularity. Long before Slamwich, there was Uno, which owes a lot to Crazy Eights. After 30 years, Uno is still going strong, and there are even variants to play. My family and I played Uno while I was in hospital to have DD. Nowadays they have themed Uno cards, and even simplified versions for shortlings (DD has a Dora the Explorer "My First Uno"). A couple years ago, my parents introduced us to Phase 10, a variant of Contract Rummy. It's a lot of fun, but can be frustrating if you've been trying for multiple hands to make a particular 'phase'.

With all the games you can play with a single deck, cards are a must-have travel item with a group. I definitely need to get better at Spades before my next overseas trip, though!

The Return of Murphy

Summer has arrived, by holiday reckoning if not by actual solar track. And with it, Murphy once again begins its annual thumbing of its proverbial nose at me.

Yesterday, after delaying several days in hopes of rain, I decided to go ahead and add water to my pool, since the level was several inches below the tile. I added enough water to cover up the bottom of two levels of tile.

And like a joke told far too often, I'm sure you see where this is going....

Sure enough, I awoke this morning to the sound of heavy rain. And it proceeded to rain most of the morning. My pool is rather close to overflowing again. And it's supposed to rain heavily again tomorrow. (Funnily enough, at 6pm EDT it's sunny here...)

We've been planning a trip to Islands of Adventure for tomorrow for several weeks now. Despite the rain forecast, we're going to go anyway (there's always a decent chance of rain in Florida during the summer). I've gotten rain ponchos, umbrellas, and such ready to face the elements.

Doubtless Murphy will be laughing as the sun beats down on us....

Perspective...

Sometimes when things seem overwhelming, it helps to put things in perspective.

I've been a bit stressed about all the housework that needs to be done over the next week. But then a northern friend clued me in to a house that's far, far worse...

DH has said that if our house ever gets anywhere close to that, he'll have me committed. He is, of course, assuming that I wouldn't have already had myself committed. That much stuff would drive me crazy!

Well, more crazy than I arguably already am....

Happy blogiversary!

A belated blogiversary to Alternate Dementia! I first started blogging on April Fool's Day of last year, but with current events, life, and random senility on my part, the momentous occasion got lost in the noise.

I didn't know where it would lead when I started blogging, and I don't know what the future may hold, but it has been an entertaining journey of discovery. Hopefully for my readers as well as myself.

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door," he used to say. "You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to."
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, "Three Is Company," The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Wanna bet?

Yesterday I got my SuperBowl winnings, which prompted DD to comment that she wanted to change her name to mine so she could get my "football money". I did fairly well in the office pool as well, so I figure I'm about $300 up on the year. Not too bad, really. I know a little bit about football, although I'm not at the point (yet) where I can intelligently discourse about West Coast offenses or when to use an I formation. Mostly I play in the pools because it's fun to see how well I do, and how I stack up against others. Plus it gives me reasons to watch games in which I'd otherwise be disinterested.

NCAA basketball is drawing to a close, and the playoff tournament will be starting soon, in what is commonly called "March Madness". And there are always "bracket" pools - starting at the initial field of 64 and picking who progresses on each game, all the way to the final winner. Last year I got in on a bracket pool, and had a shot at a payout through the last game (I needed Georgia Tech to beat UConn, but they didn't.). And I watched basketball for the first time in my life, and learned a few things. I still prefer football and hockey, and I only really pay attention to basketball when it's tournament time, or getting close.

Amazing what having a little "vested interest" can do...

But other than the occasional sports wager, I'm actually not much of a gambler. I sometimes play the lottery when someone's running an office pool because the jackpot got large, and on even rarer occasions I'll sit in on a loose-change poker game. But I avoid casinos and slot machines, and racing holds no interest. I'm not much of a risk-taker, and the thought of wagering large sums doesn't sit well with me.

But there are people who will bet on anything. I heard there were odds on what song Paul McCartney was going to play first at the SuperBowl halftime show, on whether certain players would start, or how long they'd play.

What really got me, though, is that there are actually *odds* on who the next Holy Father will be. There just seems something wrong with that....

Alternate realities

I reject your reality, and substitute my own! - Adam Savage of Mythbusters

Welcome to Reject Reality Monday, as declared by my wondering and landed friends. Several of us will be rejecting reality in various forms in our blogs today.

Let us, then, step away from this reality, from torrential rains, tornadoes, and overflowing patios. Away from the frenetic tempo of the workaday world...

...and come into the courtyard of a small castle of dark stone, set in the mountains of Wales. Not in ruins as it stands in this reality, but built into its full glory, overlooking a river that winds through a forested valley. A soft breeze blows past, bearing with it the scents of spring.

Away, then, through a door at the base of a square tower and up to a room with comfortable chairs and a pot of tea at the ready. Arched windows look down upon the outer ward, upon roses standing guard along the wall.

Such is my refuge, if only in my mind. Far away from the land of hurricanes and heat, to a land that sings in my heart, and where worries hold no sway.

And where, if only in my mind, the formidable castles and majestic cathedrals remain untouched by destruction. I've walked the ruins of many castles, and tried to imagine them as once they stood. I've seen the shattered bones of cathedrals, and wondered at the glory they may once have held...

So many things have passed away, stolen away by time or by the hands of man.

Earlier this month, we visited the city of Speyer, on the banks of the Rhine, and we visited the imperial cathedral there (which, btw, is one of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites). The cathedral is nearly 10 centuries old, and architecturally it's very beautiful. But it's also rather...bare...for such an august structure. At a nearby museum, there are several richly decorated chalices, vestments, and other liturgical items that give a tantalizing hint of how richly decorated it must once have been. But in 1689, the French raided and set fire to it. Restoration was finished in 1784....and in 1794, it fell victim to the French Revolution. Anything monetarily valuable and portable was carted off. Everything else was burned.

But at least the cathedral still stands, and is still in use as a cathedral after all it's been through. So many of the places I've been are not even that. A cathedral and a castle in St. Andrews, Scotland. Fotheringhay Castle in England - a few stones are all that remains, and I can only speculate on what may have been. So many other places....

If I get to Heaven, I should like to think I could go back and see things as they stood at their prime. To see Speyer, Orvieto, and other cathedrals in their full splendour. To walk the walls and towers of Fotheringhay and other noble castles. Perhaps even to see places that exist now only in history, like the Library of Alexandria...

It would be the reality of which our own is but a shadow.

Windows into my world

Two months after the end of hurricane season, and I've finally gotten around to putting everything back up on my office walls. And there was much rejoicing...

I'm fortunate enough to have an office to myself, albeit a small one. No windows - I'm not that lucky, but it is an 8'x10' space I can claim as my own. And as such, its walls have become a reflection of my thoughts, desires, and experiences.

Looking around, I currently have 43 postcards tacked up, the majority of them from trips I've taken to England, Scotland and Wales (postcards make cheap souvenirs!). They're clustered under a row of tea towels: two with Celtic designs, one with the lineage of the British royal family, and one with Welsh castles. All the Welsh castle postcards are, of course, clustered under that one. I also have a group of postcards from my recent Italy trip, and a group of American and Canadian postcards on a separate wall.

One wall holds two posters: "Unix Magic" and "Unix Feuds", featuring a wizard and various other pictures. They are two of a trilogy put out in the late 80s/early 90s by Unitech for trade shows. The third, "Unix Views", I've only seen twice, and would *love* to get to complete the set. (I saw it once on eBay, and bid, but not quite high enough.) The "Unix Magic" poster is the oldest acquisition on my walls, having followed me through every computer-related job I've ever had. I was a Unix system admin in a past "life" - rewarding in some ways, but a job with very little respect in most circles. A large fractal poster, my second-oldest acquisition, is tacked up by my whiteboard. I've had many posters, mostly of scenery, adorn my offices through the years, but these are the ones that remained.

I also have a box of various desk toys and figurines, many of which are dragons or trinkets from various business trips. Those are still in a box, having been put away during hurricane preparations. And like any horizontal space, the shelf that holds them has since been put to other purposes. The stuffed Buzz (the Georgia Tech mascot) and Cloud Aisha (a Neopets Happy Meal toy) are back on my monitor now, at least.

And then are the normal office decorations - photos of DH and the kids, my diploma, a service award, a wall calendar. Such are the windows into my world.

A broken distaff...

I'm currently reading The Red Tent by Anita Diamant, a historical fiction novel set in the Biblical Middle East and told from the viewpoint of Dinah, daughter of Jacob and Leah (of Leah and Rachel fame). She gets only a passing mention in Genesis, so there's a lot of backstory to fill in.

But I'm not going to tell you about the book today, since I haven't finished it yet. (Although I am enjoying it so far, so don't be surprised to see a review at some point.) So far, much of the story centers around the relationship between mothers and daughters, and especially of the things handed down from mother to daughter - stories, legends, and knowledge, as well as the expected domestic skills.

I'm not sure whether it's a result of the culture or something else entirely, but nowadays, there seems to be very little maternal knowledge transmission. My mom taught me reading, crocheting, and some other basic skills, but I would have to admit that our skill sets have very little overlap. I don't know what her 'signature' recipe might be. I can't remember her telling me stories, other than being read Dr. Seuss books. I know very little about my family history - I don't even know the names of my great-grandparents. (I *will* research my genealogy one of these years...) I don't know which of the above items my mom knows about her mom - perhaps she was in a similar position. And I'm sure I'm not by any means the only woman who could say these things. Somehow we've lost that connectedness to the past.

And so I can't really do any better for my daughters. Other than very basic domestic skills, all I really have to pass along is a love of reading, and of needlework. DsD has been a voracious reader ever since she attained literacy - a fact which pleases both DH and me. She's never gotten much into stitching, though. She knows how to cross-stitch, and has done a few small items such as bookmarks, but her interests primarily lie elsewhere. Her culinary abilities already surpass mine - she may yet rival DH in that regard.

DD is very much interested in books, and she's just starting to read. She's often proud of herself for recognizing words in printed items, and has started sounding out unknown words. So there's certainly reason for hoping she becomes as avid a reader as the rest of the family. She has also shown some interest in my needlework, though at present that consists more in claiming my finished pieces for herself than it does a desire to learn. But at least that's a start.

Besides, someone needs to inherit my stash someday!

Strange in a stranger land...

They say you can never go home again.

I'm up in Maryland, in one of the DC suburbs, on business this week. My flight in was uneventful, though I discovered that when flying into Reagan National, that passengers are not allowed out of their seats for the last 30 minute of the flight (so recycle that caffeine before the 30-minute mark!). It was mostly a non-issue for me, although I finished David Weber's Service of the Sword during that window, and couldn't get another book out of my carry-on.

The drive from the airport up to where I was staying could best be described as a comedy of errors. Mapquest directions were simple enough - GW Parkway to the Beltway to 270... Normally, I'm not particularly navigationally challenged, but between all the little exits and merges, I ended up on Constitution Ave. in downtown DC. Not a particularly big worry - I'd been in downtown DC before (mainly due to numerous field trips as a child), and I knew I needed to go north. So I try to go north, and some streets looked familiar and some didn't, and eventually I saw a route number that looked familiar so I followed signs for it, coming to Georgia Ave. AHA! I knew exactly where this street went, so I followed it up (a long stop'n'go way) to the Beltway and got to where I needed to be.

Although I confess it took me a while once I got up to my destination city to actually *find* the company I was visiting. I made a wrong turn, and on the way back ended up in a turn lane and back on the interstate, but I did make it.

Things have changed. A lot. I've been gone from the area 14 years, and I scarcely recognize it anymore. Even in the city of my youth, the downtown area has been seemingly completely overhauled, though a few landmarks are still around. It's all changing, all too quickly it seems. The area I grew up in is so unfamiliar now, and it's certainly doesn't feel like 'home' anymore. I guess that's what they mean by "can't go home again". As much as I gripe about Florida, I must concede that's my home now.

But maybe that's because my family is there. Home is where your heart is.

Money can't buy happiness...

There was an article on CNN today in which the wife of the biggest lottery winner in history wishes the win had never happened. Reading in the article what has befallen the family since then, I can't say I blame her. Combine that with the sad, sordid lives of many celebrities and it often seems that large sums of money are not worth the trouble caused.

Like I'm sure many people do, I occasionally muse on what I'd do with a monstrously large lottery win. Donate a large chunk to charity, pay off debts, set up very nice college funds for the kids, travel to Europe.... And then what? Deal with myriad "friends" and "relatives" we never knew we had? Spend the rest of our lives trying to protect our kids from would-be kidnappers?

No thank you. That's attention I'd really rather do without.

I admit, I do occasionally get in on the office pools that tend to start up when the lottery rolls over into the $20M range. But at that point, my take after lump sum would only be about $1M which hopefully wouldn't be enough to attract unwanted attention. Enough to do most of what I listed earlier, but not enough to really even alter our lifestyle much, though it might facilitate a career change for DH if he were interested.

When I think about it, though, I already am wealthy in what truly matters - I have a wonderful DH and kids, and we have a roof over our heads and food to eat.

Everything else is just gravy.