Random Thoughts from a Professional Woman On the Move


Good morning Everyone!

Yesterday I had a three hour drive round trip for a court appearance.  Since I was free associating, I thought I’d share with you some of the random thoughts flitting through my brain.

1)  I am the only woman in the entire state praying at this moment for God to grant me the grace to eat my breakfast in the car without getting it on my clothes.  (He did!)

2) Another one bites the dust! (Noticing a run in my hose on the way home.)

3)   That wasn’t a nice name to call the driver of the log truck that just cut me off, giving me the privilege of sitting through the third set of lights at this intersection.

4) He deserved it!

Golden Arches, McDonald's, Time Square

Photo Credit: Giorgio Martini from Wikimedia Commons

5)  When the manager of the McDonald’s in Tallassee sees me for the first time in two years and still remembers me, perhaps I went there a little too often for breakfast.

Beam me up Scotty!

Beam Me Up Scotty! Photo by Keven Law from Wikimedia Commons

6)  Where is Scotty and a good transporter when you need them?

On the way home, I could stop at:

7) The book store.

8) The craft store.

9) The fabric store.

10) The ice cream store.

11)  Will power is over rated.

Have a great day!

Nancy

 

European Overpasses


Good morning Everyone!

Belgian Countryside

Belgian Countryside

One hundred years ago, Europe was enjoying one of the most splendid summers it had ever seen. None of the countries then in Europe could have imagined that in less than four months, they would be involved in the bloodiest slaughter of men ever up until that time, the First World War. Of course, since no-one gave these countries a memo in advance about World War II, at the time they called the war “The Great World War” or “The War to End All Wars.” The Great War began with Germany invading neutral Belgium in order to reach France under what was called the Schlieffen Plan. Because tiny Belgium had the gall to resist this infringement on its sovereignty (and even to hold back the German army for a small period of time), Germany exacted a heavy price from it both during the battle for and the occupation of Belgium. Another country, Poland – which did not then exist, having been apportioned between the Powers That Be – became the main land over which the Eastern Front of the Great War was fought. It too suffered terribly during the war.

Schlieffen Plan

Schlieffen Plan
(Public Domain)

On September 1, 1939, a scant 20 to 21 years after the end of the Great World War, World War II began with Hitler’s Germany’s unprovoked invasion of Poland.  Once again, German occupation caused Poland and its citizens great suffering. On May 10, 1940, tiny Belgium, which in 1936 had officially declared itself neutral in the event of a second general European war, was again overrun by Germany. It was forced to surrender in 18 days. As before, it suffered great loss of life and economic prosperity, and had hundreds of thousands of its citizens drafted into forced labor in Germany.

Polish Cavalry Fighting the Battle of Bzura in World War II (Public Domain)

Polish Cavalry Fighting the Battle of Bzura in World War II (Public Domain)

Now Russia under Putin has started to ease its toe into the waters of expansionism and radical nationalism, starting with Ukraine and possibly Georgia (remember the argument over natural gas/oil no one showed up for?). If I were Poland and Belgium, I’d hire every road builder in the United States and Europe and build a huge overpass across the length of my country suitable for armies to travel over without harming the country below. If the third general war ever breaks out, and against all probability it stays conventional, that’s their best bet for minimal harm.

Overpass

Overpass
by chuyu@123rf.com

And on that uncharacteristic note, I still hope that each of you have a good day!

Nancy

Bibliophilic Friday: Richard Fortey’s Life


Good morning Everyone!

Today on Bibliophilic Friday I am going to talk about one of my favorite non-fiction books on science, Life:  An Intimate History of the First Four Billion Years by Richard Fortey.  Nor am I alone in my admiration of this book; it recently was selected, along with another book by Richard Fortey, by the Folio Society in England.  The Folio Society publishes high-end editions of carefully selected books, and to have a book included as one of their offerings is an honor in and of itself.

Folio Society, Richard Fortey

The Folio Society Cover for Richard Fortey’s Life

I love to read about science, all aspects of it.  Richard Fortey is one of my favorite science writers because of the engaging way he illustrates his topics and the trick he has of making complicated concepts available to non-scientists.  In his book, Life, he covers the evolution of life from the first single-celled organisms through the present – and does so in a way that keeps you reading.

He has another quality as a science writer that I, as a Christian, find most endearing – he does not proselytize for atheism in his writing, something that spoiled some of the books of Stephen Gould and James Watson (the original discoverer of DNA) for me.  This does not mean that there is anything in his writing that promotes Christianity, either, but what it does do is leave me free to enjoy the science explained in the book without feeling defensive about my religious views.

(We’ll get into this more some other time – maybe – but I can study science and learn everything it has to teach me without giving up my religious beliefs, either.  Science is a study performed by man to understand the tangible world around us; Christianity and the Bible is a book given to us by God to understand the deeper, more important truths of where we came from , who we are and what our purpose in life is.)

As you read Life, you pick up on Fortey’s enthusiasm on his subject and learn about fascinating creatures – and not all of them are dinosaurs!  Even the algae mats that now exist in only a few places in the world but which once populated the earth in enough abundance to transform our atmosphere from primarily carbon dioxide to primarily oxygen can become interesting in Dr. Fortey’s hands.

trilobite

A Trilobite

Dr. Fortey’s academic specialty is the study of trilobites, animals that swarmed the oceans for over 270 million years but which became extinct about 250 million years ago.  Trilobites were arthropods, which means they are distantly related to insects, arachnids and crustaceans.  Their closest living relatives today appear to be the horseshoe crabs, which are often considered to be “living fossils”.  The horseshoe crabs are arthropods, too. Dr. Fortey admits in one of his books that he has a secret wish/hope that maybe just a few trilobites are still swimming around in the ocean, may in some deep-sea canyon, that have yet to be discovered.  I think that would be spectacular!

Horseshoe crabs

Horseshoe Crabs
From Wikimedia Commons; Photographer’s name not listed

Sorry – I digressed again. The point is that if you are looking for an informative, entertaining read that sets out a comprehensive history of life as currently understood by science, this is the book for you.

Have a great weekend!

Nancy

Tubing on the Little Pigeon River – ish


Good morning Everyone!

I hope each of you had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend.  We spent the long weekend in Gatlinburg to attend the Gaither Family Fest, a three night series of concerts by some of the best artists in Southern Gospel music.

Even though our nights were booked up, we had time during the day for other activities, so we decided to take advantage of the pretty weather and try some sort of water activity one afternoon.  Our choices were inner tubing down the Little Pigeon River, going to the Water Park at Dollywood or white water rafting.  To be honest, Mark and I would have preferred to try white water rafting, but Kayla was pretty scared, and I had no wish to fight crowds at the Water Park when the main attraction for me there was the Lazy River, so the compromise agreement was that we would go inner tubing.  Somewhere in the back of my mind was the idea that inner tubing down a river would be much the same as going to a Lazy River attraction, just on a real river rather than a man-made one.

Of course, the two are nothing alike.  My first clue came when my neck started hurting because there as nothing on the inner tube to support it.  The best way to get relief was to stretch out in full nap position across the top of the inner tube, which would have been okay except for the shoals – there are two or three spots on this particular inner tubing path where the water gets very shallow and runs over a series of rocks.  We called them “the rapids” although I am sure they were quite tame when compared to the real thing.  They were not designed with naps in mind.

Because the rapids are so shallow, it is easy for your inner tube to get hung on some rocks.  You can get “unhung” in one of two ways – either you push yourself off of the offending rock and back into the mainstream of the river, or another inner tube does that for you.  However, when I got hung, another inner tube coming up behind me hit me at just the right spot to flip me out of the inner tube into the shoal.  The water was only mid-calf deep, so I wasn’t in any danger, but the current was very fierce, and the rocks very slippery so I couldn’t get my footing to stand and get back in my inner tube.  While I was still pondering my way out of the dilemma, another inner tube came along and bumped me in just the right way to separate me from the inner tube I was seeking to get back into.

So now it was just me sitting on the rocks in the rapids.  I saw that Mark had caught my inner tube down the river and was trying to get it back to me, but the current at my location was too strong.  Finally, I ended up scooting myself over the rapids rock by rock like an upside down inch worm – my posterior in the water – until I could get to the deeper, quieter water.  By the time I was reunited with my family and my inner tube, I was exhausted.

The other problem with inner tubing is that the river is completely in control of your progress and path.  While I don’t think of myself as a control freak (Kayla, stop giggling here), eventually the lack of control started driving me crazy.  The river liked to drive me towards the banks where there were more rocks and things for my inner tube to catch on, while I wanted to keep towards the center of the river.  Apparently inner tubes were not designed to allow you to use your arms to steer them, so my attempts to do so left me yet again exhausted.  It was a great upper body workout though!

There were some parts of the river where you could just float lazily along and relax – one part was so placid I think we almost stopped – and the people inner tubing along with us were incredibly friendly and nice, so I’m glad we did it.

I’m even gladder, though, that there are no photographs of me during my impromptu inchworm impersonation.

Have a great day!

Nancy

 

Mark and Nancy’s Great Camping Adventure


Good morning Everyone!

A conversation with Kristina over at Family.Work.Life about whether camping in a trailer or motor home as opposed to a tent is  “real” camping reminded me of a story from early on my married life.

When we moved back to Alabama from North Carolina in 1991, we ended up living in Alexander City, a town at the north end of Lake Martin, which is a huge man-made lake that powers three dams for the Alabama Power Company.  We decided to fulfill a dream of Mark’s, and bought a brand-new boat 1989 Bayliner.   Because it had been in the local boat shop’s inventory for almost three years, we managed to get quite a good deal on it.

One of the best places to enjoy Lake Martin is at Wind Creek, a state park with hundreds of camp sites, very nice boat launch facilities and just about anything else you could ever want from a state park on a lake.

Our family at that time consisted of three:  Mark, me and our first dog, Shadow.  Shadow loved riding in the boat. Mark and I decided one weekend in March that we would go camping at Wind Creek in the new four person tent we had bought, and bring the boat along with us.

It sounded like a great idea, but it wasn’t.  Wind Creek’s name, at least in March, is not meant to be aesthetically pleasing but rather descriptive, and with the prime camping spot we rented at the tip of the point, we had no shelter at all from the apparently gale force winds.

After a great deal of difficulty, we managed to get the tent put up and myself and Shadow deposited inside it to keep it from blowing away (yes, Shadow would have been enough but there was no way that dog was going to stay inside the tent by herself in that kind of wind.).  Mark then started to light the barbecue grill outside the tent while I talked to him through the door, but the wind was so strong we couldn’t keep a flame lit.  He finally gave up and took off into town to bring us back a pizza.

While he was gone, I shivered in the tent and listened to the wind roar through the pine trees and pull at our tent.  Once I had to slip outside to rescue various substantial camping paraphernalia that the wind had decided to play catch with, but fortunately the tent didn’t fly away too.  The entire time, Shadow was by my side, looking at me with sad eyes that plainly said,” We have a perfectly good house only miles from here; why on earth are we sitting out here in the wilderness fighting the wind?”  The best answer I could give her was that we were waiting for pizza.

Once Mark got back with the pizza, we ate it, sharing the obligatory portion with Shadow, who was somewhat mollified by our peace offering until the wind managed to rip out one of the tent stakes even with three of us in the tent.   It tickled me so much that I started laughing non-stop.  I was pretty useless from that point forward in any attempt to set the tent back to rights.

We finally conceded defeat about ten p.m., loaded everything back up into our pick-up truck and boat, and headed back into town, with a very relieved dog sitting in my lap.

I don’t remember us ever trying to camp again until we bought our first trailer.  I don’t even remember myself wanting to try camping again until I had a trailer, although I’m sure I mentioned it at least once or twice.

And that, my friends, is “Mark and Nancy’s Great Camping Adventure!”

Have a great day!

Nancy

Mysterious Malady of the 12-Year-Old Mind


Good morning Everyone!

Do any of you know exactly what happens to children around age 12 that leads them to suffer excessive brain damage?  Just to give you an example of the malady, let me tell you about Kayla’s locker.

As the end of school approaches, Kayla needs to clean out her locker.  So this morning, I asked, “What about your locker?”

She answered, absently, “I’ll start cleaning it out today.”

Since I had reason to think she wasn’t as focused on the locker issue as I was, I asked ,” What about the key?”

Let’s book mark that question and back track several months, to the time when Kayla, frustrated with her combination lock, wanted a locker lock with a key.  Being gifted with the normal amount of second sight accorded to mothers, I asked her what would happen if she lost the key.  She assured me that she would wear it on a chain around her neck and not lose it.  Still, to be certain, I bought a lock with two keys – one of which I kept and placed strictly off-limits.

All right, let’s flip back to the present day.  When asked about the key, Kayla answered, “Oh, yeah, I’m going to need the key.”  She couldn’t tell me what had happened to her key, nor even when it had disappeared.

Restraining myself from saying the obvious, “I told you so,” (mental comments don’t count!), I told her to go get the key from the M & M jar where we keep spare keys.  She couldn’t find it, and the bus was almost there, so I told her to double-check the type of lock we were dealing with at school today so I could help look for the key tonight.

M & M cotntainer

Our M & M Jar

With a kiss goodbye, I sent her off on the bus, then wandered into the kitchen to pour my morning diet coke – only to discover that, for reasons unknown probably even to herself, Kayla had NOT looked in the M&M jar for the key, but in my purse.

So what special combination of circumstances leads to brain damage that 1) loses things you were specifically told not to lose and 2) translates the words “M&M jar” to “Mom’s purse”?  More importantly, how do you fix it?  Does it ever get better?  Fellow parents out there, give me hope!

Have a great day!

Nancy

The Count Down


Good morning Everyone!

This week, in my town, teachers, students, parents and  bus drivers are all participating in a count down. The key number today is four.

Jig, Irish, dancing

The teachers are dancing jigs. http://www.clickartonline.com

The students are gleeful about it but oblivious to the idea that the rest of us may be excited too.  When the doors are closed and no students around, the teachers are dancing jigs over it.  Parents can feel a level of stress lifting off of their shoulders as the date approaches, while the bus drivers can’t help but look forward to the chance to sleep in just a little.

Parent, top of the world

Happy Parent
www,clickartonline.com

I am referring, of course, to the last day of school.  While many schools up north and in other parts of the country will continue through most of June, down here in Alabama, most school systems stop the year around Memorial Day.  Our system is no exception.  The last day of school is Thursday, and I think everybody is more than ready for it.  I know Kayla is looking forward to it, and I am excited about the reprieve I’ll receive from being the homework and grade policeman.

What I didn’t realize until I was a teacher for about three years, many years ago, was how much the teachers look forward to the summer break, too.  All during the last week, the expectations build until the day the students are released.  The work days afterward to tidy everything up until next year are anti-climactic; the true start of summer for teachers is the last day the students are there.  I always said that the best part of teaching was the students, and the worst part of teaching was the students.  I can only imagine how much truer that saying is now, over twenty years later!

So here’s to a smooth last week of school, and a happy, restful summer!  We’ll leave the wishes for next year on hold until the school year starts again in August.

Have a great day everyone!

Nancy

Bibliophilic Friday: R. F. Delderfield’s To Serve Them All My Days


Good morning Everyone!

R.F. Delderfield To Serve Them All My Days

It’s 1918, and on the Western Front in Europe, millions of men are engaged in life and death struggles in the most brutal of conditions for only inches of territory.  But in the uplands of England, an elderly station master gently awakens a solitary soldier as his train pulls into the station.

With that, you have the beginning of R. F. Delderfield’s To Serve Them All My Days, an intimate fictional portrait of the inter-war career of one David Powlett-Jones, a Welsh miner’s son who obtains a position teaching history at a private school in England named “Bamfylde” after he was wounded on the front during World War I.

This book is one of my all-time favorites, a book that I have literally “read to pieces.”  The first version I owned was a paperback, which these days is growing harder and harder to hold together because I have read it so much.  I bought it in Kindle format a couple of years ago, which I suspect has greatly increased the paperback version’s longevity.

The fascination in the book lies in many different aspects.  First, there is David Powlett-Jones himself,  intense, likable, intelligent and dedicated, his growing family  and the growth he experiences throughout the book through cycles of tragedy and healing.  Second, there are the boys at the school and their relationship with David Powlett-Jones.  Who can’t love a book with characters such as Winterbourne, the millionaire’s son who paints water colors and has his own private campground on the moor to escape to when things get to be too much or Chad Boyer, who introduces himself to David in their  first class together with a fake epileptic fit.  Third, the other teachers in the school are characters in their own rights, including the headmaster, Algy Herries, who has built the life up on the moor into a vibrant world of its own, irascible Howarth, amiable and erudite Barnaby and a French master with the carefully hidden first name of “Aloysius” to name just a few.  Finally, there is the story itself, an intimate history of a man that also provides a panoramic view of the times he lived in.

One of the thrills of reading is the way it can carry you into other times, places and minds.  To Serve Them All My Days does so effortlessly, providing you with an entertaining, satisfying story that leaves you, at the end, with new friends that live in on in your imagination long after the pages are closed.

Try it sometime!  You’ll like it.

Have a great weekend!

Nancy

P.S.  If you do read the book, I’d love to hear from you to learn what you thought about it!

What’s Going On With Kraft Macaroni & Cheese?


Hi Everyone!

Original Kraft Macaroni and Cheese

The One and Only Incomparable Original Kraft Macaroni N’ Cheese

Today I am going to ask your help with something that is increasingly more puzzling to me – I have a post I did a couple of years called “How to Make Killer Kraft Macaroni & Cheese.”  It’s only distinction, so far as I know, on my blog is that it remains still to this date the only recipe (or quasi-recipe) I have shared with you on this blog. And yet over time I have slowly accumulated over 4400 views of this completely innocuous post!  This morning alone I had over 15 views of it.   I don’t understand and can’t explain it. So my simple question to those of you reading this blog, or those of you who come to it from some kind of search on Kraft Macaroni & Cheese is “What gives?” I await your answers eagerly!  If you don’t have an answer, but have a suggestion on how to find one, that would be great too.

Varieties of Kraft Macaroni 'N Cheese

Just a few of the bewildering varieties of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese now available.

Have a great day! Nancy

Surrendering Time


Good morning Everyone!

Medieval Clock Tower

Medieval Clock Tower
Photo From Wikimedia Commons
By Frank Kovalcheck

It’s morning and I’ve successfully sent Kayla off to school and am sitting down for my usual spot of blogging before I head off to work, something I enjoy, but I’m keeping a close eye on the clock as I do so.

Once upon a time, a day was not divided up into hours, but simply day time and night time.  People understood that when the sun was up, you would do whatever hunting and gathering needed to be done, and when the sun was down you slept.   Then we invented agriculture and the seasons came into play – you had to at least divide time up enough so that you knew when to plant, water, harvest and store.

That schedule was simply enough – you still got up when you needed to get up and went to sleep when it was dark – but somewhere along the line, someone (and I really don’t know who was present at that vote, because it wasn’t me) decided that we needed to divide the day up further.  I can just imagine that conversation!

Timekeeper:  Hey, dude, I just thought of something.

Friend:  What’s that?

TK:  Well, you know how we get up when it’s light and we do some things and then we go to bed when it’s dark?

Friend:  Yeah, what about it?

TK:  Why don’t we invent something called a schedule?

Friend:  What’s that?

TK:  It’s a way of being sure that you are doing what you need to do when it needs to be done.

Friend:  That makes no sense, dude.  We’re already doing that!  We plant when we need to plant and harvest when we need to harvest – oh, and we milk the darn cows every blessed day at day break because they make such a fuss otherwise.

TK:  Yes, but wouldn’t you feel better if you knew, when you walked in to milk the cows, that you were getting up at something called 4 a.m. rather than just day break?

Friend:  Not really.  What’s 4 a.m.?

TK:  The crack of dawn.

Friend:  It sounds the same to me.

TK:  You’re missing the point.   If you know that you have to milk the cows at 4 a.m. and will be finished by 6 a.m., you then can plan what you are going to do with the rest of your day.

Friend:  I do that already.

TK:  Yes, but you will know exactly how much time you have left to do everything so that you can worry about not getting it all done on time.

Friend:  Still not feeling it, TK.  Sorry.

TK:  You don’t understand.  Suppose the opposite happens and you get done way early, say by noon.

Friend:  What’s noon?

TK:   Lunch time.

Friend:  Ok.  What then?

TK:  Then you can figure out how much of the day you have left and load yourself up with lots of more stuff to do.  That’s called “productivity.”

Friend:  Why wouldn’t I just want to go fishing or read a papyrus scroll somewhere?

TK:  I didn’t know you could read!

Friend:  That’s irrelevant.  Answer my question.

TK:  Well, by loading yourself up with lots more stuff to do, you’ll get more done.

Friend:  It sounds to me like I’ll get a lot more not done, too.

TK:  That’s the beauty of it!  Not only do you get more done, you get to worry a lot more about what hasn’t been done and boast that you got more done than someone else.

Friend:  I think your idea needs some work, man.   I’m off to the lake.

TK:  How about if I add in a big timekeeper tower in the center of the town square with a lot of cute marching figures whenever the gong chimes out the hour?

Friend:  Now you’re talking…..

Prague Clock Apostles

Apostles on the Prague Astronomical Clock
from Wikipedia

Have a great day!

Nancy