Two funny posters (and podcasts too)

These "demotivational posters" made me laugh out loud when I saw them on the internet today. I know its totally sophomoric, inapproriate, and stupid . . .but hey, lighten up.

So this evening I have been upstairs by the fire browsing some of the awesome podcasts that iTunes has to offer--not only are they fantastic for school lessons, but also they are completely free. The first rule of thumb is this: you absolutely do not need an ipod to get podcasts. Simply download itunes on your computer (its free) and then just start exploring. Podcasts are video or audio "shows" that you can download on your computer. For example, you can download a Sesame Street podcast. You can also check out a National Geographic podcast. There are thousands of possibilities, for every taste. NPR (national public radio) has a pretty comprehensive set of podcasts, from great shows like Prairie Home Companion and "This American Life" to NPR news stories, all categorized by "story of the day," "best of politics," "religion," "pop culture," etc. Its all pretty interesting, and it will (hopefully) open some new doors for my English classes. In addition, they are just fun to listen to, even if you dont teach seniors (mike has seniors too!!)

Amanda is at orchestra rehearsal and I am about to go lie on the couch (as instructed by Sally) and read my book . . .and hopefully kick this strep throaty-coldy thing in time for the snowstorm on Friday.

Do you see this?

This is my keyboard, which I keep downstairs in the den. I've got a great, cozy spot in which to write, play, and sing. But all I've been able to do for TWO months now is look at this keyboard--the same way you're looking at it right now. My instrument is not working, and the part I ordered (a simple adapter cable . . .that was not in stock) has taken a ridiculous amount of time to ship--I ordered it on January 2nd, and it just shipped out three days ago or something. So, literally, I have not played my keyboard since my last concert which was on November 30th . . .and even then I had to use the music department's Roland (I should point out, however, that I deliberately put the word "keyboard" instead of "instrument" in this sentence because I know someone like Ortiz or Ponch would write 'I know you just played your instrument this morning . . .wah wah wah' or something like that). Anyway, songwriting and performing is such a huge part of my life--a part that, ironically enough, many people I am closest with don't often get to see--and it is driving me crazy that I cannot play my music. Hopefully the adapter will arrive tomorrow or so.

In other news, Amanda's belly is getting huge, and I am going to the doctors because I think I have strep throat. Oh and our driveway and garage is heaving unbelievably because of the all the cold days and the previous "warm spell." And oh yeah, the writer's strike is killing me to. And I cut my lip and it hurts. And Thomas is eating sardines tonight and its disgusting. Oh and I dont always use contractions because I'm lazy . . .but I also dont write in fragments. And I think that's all. Have a nice day

Meanderings 24

(The first two were inspired by Ortiz himself . . .he has jumped on the "meandering" bandwagon. Proud of you dad)

1. The word "track" has so many definitions, and may be the most underrated word in our language--it does so much, yet gets no credit. Some usages of track:

-a footprint of an animal

-a place to run

-the number of a song on an album

-to look after or observe (i.e. track his behavior)

-a sport

-to hunt down or follow (track a bear and then shoot it)

-a figurative place to be (you're on the right track since you've quit doing blow . . )

-something on which a train travels

-many, many others I am sure . . .

2. Most juices are liberals, working together to combine flavors for a greater good (cran-grape, strawberry banana, etc). But pineapple juice is a die-hard conservative, stuck in its ways. Why? Well, for example, its the only juice still to not abandon its big aluminum can. Did you ever notice how pineapple juice, in the juice aisle, is always on the very bottom, sitting quietly, in its boring, unadorned can? No other juices come this way. Come on Strom Pineapple . . .get with the program! (Seriously though . . .why does pineapple juice still come this way? I dont even think they make those types of can openers to punch a hole in the can anymore)

3. Today, all kinds of businesses are preaching the benefits of "going green" and recycling, etc. They brag about how their stupid bags are made out of used potatoes and how the soap they use in the restrooms of the stores is made of rendered hippy fat, etc. If they're so concerned, then why dont they do what I consider to be the most obvious thing of all--shut off some damn lights when they're closed? Did you ever drive by Wal-Mart of Home Crapot at night? Are we in Las Vegas or something? Seriously . . .shut off your lights. Now they are probably saying "well they're for security reasons." Codswallup, I say. They make motion detected lights. I know this because Bill across the street, who is the county Bailiff, gets called out at 1, 2, 3 in the morning and has motion lights in his driveway. Bill knows whats up . . .why doesnt crap-mart? Get motion detected lights, then if someone goes to steal your plastic crap, the lights will go on when movement is sensed. Until you do that, stop bragging about how hippy-green you are.

4. On the show "Deal or No Deal," there is a suitcase that actually holds $.01. If you play to the end, and you actually end up with the penny, do they give it to you? What is more of an insult to the contestant: actually giving them a check for one cent, or not giving it to them at all? And is it a check? Or does Howie give you a shiny Lincoln piece?

5. I love the expression "I hear congratulations are in order!" because it is rhetorically brilliant. This phrase is usually muttered to someone who just bought a house, had a baby, cured their hemorrhoids, or whatever. The beauty of this phrase is how you can say it to someone without "actually" wishing them "congratulations,"and I like to use it on people for whom I could care less. All you are ACTUALLY saying, in fact, is how you "hear" that some people might be wishing you congratulations on something . . .but you're not actually congratulating them. It really is remarkable.

6. "I'd hate to meet him alone in a dark alley." What's the deal? Who are all these people hanging out in dark alleys nowadays? And are the alleys so crowded that people are actually running into each other?

7. I recently bought a box of crackers, and one of the advertising "sayings" on the front of the box (in addition to low cholesterol, high fiber, etc.) was "tastes great!." Now, I'm no ad executive, but it would seem to me that this should come standard with any manufactured food--is this really something to proudly advertise? It would appear that the idea of something "tasting great" should pretty much be a given in food I buy. But maybe thats just me.

8. I become wary of restaurants and markets who use quotation marks in exemplifying the superlatives which describe their products: "Fresh" seafood, "real" maple syrup, "homemade" dessert, etc. I think the reason I become suspicious is because of the cultural "stress" put on words in quotations when they are spoken aloud. This is a difficult meandering to write without actually being able to verbally explain it . . .but comment if you know what I mean. I mean, why do they have to "stress" that their seafood is fresh? It almost sounds "sarcastic" in a way, ya know? The spoken word in the English language is a magnificent thing--I guess you just have to hear it. If your spanikopita is homemade, just say its homemade and be done with it. "Pu vriques das peponas?"

9. There is nothing "wise" about owls, even though this is how they are personified in our culture . . .I think its crap, and I hate owls. They can all die. If they're so "wise" then how come they dont even know enough to sleep at night and work during the day like everyone else? Furthermore, if they're so smart, why do they eat disgusting mice? Why havent they devised a way to get better food? Answer that one for me. In addition, since they are so "wise" and eat mice, you'd think the least they could know is to only eat the meat . . .but, alas, they eat the mice whole, and then spit up a humongous hair ball, complete with fur, bones, and other by-products. Wow. What a wise friggin animal. . . .

10. I've never actually seen leftover pancakes get eaten and NOT thrown away. That's all.

The Craft Room

When our son is born, he will reside in his mother's current "craft room," which is Amanda's headquarters for all of her crafts--sewing, knitting, spinning yarn, crapbooking (I know I spelled it "wrong" . . . .or did I?), and more. Its a charming room (perhaps my favorite room in the whole house . . .although I never go in there because its such a mess and I can't stand it) and it will be a terrific pad for b.b. Goldsmith. The chimney of the wood stove on the first floor runs up through the room, and it adds such nice character. I'm sure, in fact, it will be one of the first things he runs into when he learns to walk! Furthermore, the room has a neat crawlspace (because of the un-dormered part of the cape in which we live) and I am sure that, when he is about 5 or 6, he'll start playing in there, hiding his army men, reading ghost stories, bringing dates, and stashing contraband. Oh the times to come. You can see the little white door to the crawl space behind Amanda, as she sits by her sewing table and goes through patterns for sweaters, tops, and baby clothes . . . . We put a lot of stuff in boxes and stored them up in the attic above the garage . . .all to make room for all the new stuff our little guy will accrue. While I was up in the garage, I decided to go through some of my "stored things," and I found my box of Matchbox cars. Who had these? I know I had tons more, but I have no idea where they went! My Hotwheels and Matchbox cars were awesome, and I had the "General Lee" from Dukes of Hazard, a bunch of police and firetrucks, and some old 55 and 57 Chevys. I had "Hotwheel City," which was one of the big toys of my youth (meaning every boy my age had it). I remember, in particular, the garage and the "lift" that brought your car up to the top floor of the garage. Anyone remember this? I also seem to remember Matchbox cars being displayed in both toy and drug stores in a fancy, well-lit case that spun around slowly (Smurfs, another collectible of mine, were also displayed this way). Now, they're just mixed in with the rest of the cheap plastic crap that's made in China. Some of the "special" Hotwheels included police cars that, when you pressed down on the roof of the car, made real siren sounds. Also, they put out a line of cars that you could "get into an accident with," and when you did, a door or a hood would "flip over" and reveal the newly "dented" side. Remember those, playa?? I put the box in the little guy's closet . . .he'll be playing with them soon enough . . .carrying them around in the bib pocket of his baby Carhartt overalls . . .

And here is one more of Sally, organizing all her yarn, labeling undone projects, and getting stuff ready for the baby . . .a baby who will be joining us in about 4 months!!! Wow . . .as one of my earlier meanderings stated . . . "that is crazy!" Next weekend, we begin ripping down wallpaper and paining the room. I hate this crap. I really do hate painting. A lot. Hope everyone had a good weekend . . .

Snowshoe trip # 8 / ugliest people in the world

A quick post before going to bed . . . a good Saturday today, full of lots of stuff, both work and play. I went over to Joseph's butcher shop to stock up on our meat for the week (and beyond), brought in another batch of firewood into the garage, went to Hanaford, and then hit Starbucks. Sally, on the other hand, put away the rest of our winter/Christmas decorations, and returned us to a "business as usual" sort of look. After this, we headed over to Mt. Vernon, where we took a good long snowshoe through the backwoods of Lynne and George's house--we found a new trail that headed up a really steep hill where the view was impressive. Amanda did very well climbing the hill, despite the fact she is getting as fat as me . . .great job Sally! We then finished our snowshoe by heading back up to Lynne and George's house, having some snacks like liverwurst, cheese, hot red pepper jelly, and taquitos, and then, (6 glasses of Paisano later--for me, not Amanda) enjoyed a delicious New England pot roast. Now it is time for bed, and I am very tired--it was an arduous snowshoe trip today. Tomorrow we start really cleaning out Amanda's "craft room" (I call it the CRAP room) because, in just 4 short months, it will be the future home of Callum Charles Jared Stuart Goldsmith--or something like that, anyway.

Oh, and as I was doing some errands today, I thought about how Sandra Oh, the Olsen twins (it doesnt matter which one, and big fat Rosie Odonnell are the three ugliest people I have ever seen. I am not saying I am anything to look at . . ..but I dont make my career out of having millions of people videotape/photograph/view me. I would have put that kid from the new McDonalds commercial (the one where he disco dances to his happy meal to the "cha cha real smooth" song) but I couldnt find a picture of him. He is also hideous. Who do you think is hideous in the entertainment industry? You might think I'm mean . . .but hey, they are richer than I'll ever be . . .plus, they are the ones who put themselves out there to be judged.

(Jared, why do you hate people??)

Dinner at "Cancun"

Doesnt this look good!!??

After having my pupils dilated at the eye doctor's this afternoon, Sally and I headed over to downtown Waterville's latest restaurant--an AUTHENTIC Mexican place called "Cancun." Two funny things happened at Cancun. First, we saw Jane, Giselle, and Judy (the school secretary and the two guidance secretaries) and I had to explain how I really wasnt high on the reefer . . .but I just came from the eye doctor. Second, Amanda had to read the menu to me, since I couldnt see anything basically. It was cute; it was like a mom reading the kids menu to the little boy--only there were no chicken fingers, and I'm one fatass boy.

Cancun was stellar, and I mean this sincerely. As I stated, this is an authentic Mexican restaurant run by Mexican folks who cook real Mexican food--none of this "McDonalds-covered-in-red-sauce" junk that they serve at Craparitas. Margaritas isnt even in the same GALAXY as Cancun. And the waiter called me senor all night . . .so I've got that going for me. I got "Burrito Raqueta," which is two burritos stuffed with slowcooked shredded pork and covered with tomatillo sauce and queso sauce. Sally got "Yolandas," which is three enchiladas stuffed with pulled chicken, guacamole, and tomatillos. What I liked especially about this place is how they dispel the "myth" that all Mexican food has to be deep fried and drowning in cheese. In fact, many of the entrees seemed very healthy indeed. Plus, they serve a lot of the "traditional" Mexican food like Mole (its a sauce . . .not a vermin), Carnitas, and Carne Asada--all foods I remember from when I was down in Nuevo Laredo.

You could virtually swim in the Margaritas, the chips and salsa were definitely homemade, and the prices were so reasonable. Fuzzy--this place is right next to the Last Unicorn . . .you should try it sometime!

Does anyone else want to go with us to Cancun? We'll probably go back this weekend . . .

Hopefully, this means I'll never have to go to Craparitas again!

Also, I was just thinking: for being "central Maine" in the Fairfield/Waterville/Winslow area, we have a lot of truly authentic cultural restaurants. We have the Asian Cafe owned by folks from Thailand. We have George's Lebanese Restaurant which is run by . . well . . Lebanese people. We have Freedom Cafe, which is real "soul food," and we have Cancun, which is Mexican. Maybe you should call where I live "Cambridge," Maine.

Meanderings 23

Two photos to accompany my meanderings today. First, there is a funny bumper sticker Belle sent me via email. I would never in ten light years vote for this person, but its funny nonetheless. I also think Hillary looks like Jack Nicholson as the "Joker" in Batman. The other picture is of the Pelotte family, who came by for a visit and some "biggatomatosaussa" yesterday.

*******

1. Enough already with those ridiculous wall hangings, signs, embroidered things, etc. that all have stupid sayings like "Recipe for a happy home . . .add 1 cup of understanding and 1/2 ounce of tenderness . . .mix liberally with sprinkled hugs . . .and blah, blah, blah. It was a dumb idea to begin with, and its time has passed. Thank you.

2. I have a cool invention: gum that has fiber in it. This way, you can freshen your breath and feel full all at the same time. We've got gum to stop Nicotine cravings . . .why not gum to stop appetite cravings as well? While we're at it, lets have gum that is turkey or steak flavored . . .or gum that tastes like gravy. This would be more satisfying. Why does it always have to be mint? I think Mr. Wonka was onto something . . .

3. An interesting legal question I wondered about the other night when I (as usual) couldnt sleep: Would it be illegal to copy someone's identify via plastic surgery? I mean, does anyone inherently "own" a look, just because thats what they "look like?" For example, suppose I had millions of dollars but couldnt get chicks because I was ugly . . .and suppose I went to a great plastic surgeon and had him make me look EXACTLY like Tom Brady or Sting or Matthew Mconnahay (or however he spells it). Could I get in trouble? No one owns a look . . .or DO they? And if I did get sued, what would be the crime? And if I lost, would the judge make me get plastic surgery to "un-look" like Sting?

4. Everyone appears to seem upset, think I'm nuts, or look at me disdainfully when I tell them how much I love the winter (this usually comes after they make smalltalk in passing about how cold it is or how much snow we have, etc. and I tell them how I'm so happy). Why all the hatred for the winter lovers? I personally hate the summer, and I think all those people are crazy for loving the heat. And here's another thing: if my tax money is going to go to help people have heat in the winter, then I'd like it reciprocated by having some assistance with air conditioning in the summer. I understand people get cold in the winter (I happen to love the cold) and need help . . .but I dont have "central air" in my house, and I suffer terribly through the heat--did anyone ever see what one of my shirts looks like from June-October? I need some assistance please . . .

5. What we think of as pearls are just marine creature cysts for which we pay top dollar. It would be like an Oyster going to the jewelery store to get his wife a human pimple necklace or a goiter bracelet. Think about it: how does a pearl develop?? Pearls are pieces of sand that become irritated over time. Maybe there is a hidden market for rashes or yeast infections . . .

6. Restaurants should start requiring the ID of the "birthday person" if they want every single employee in the said restaurant to sing like an idiot for the "birthday person." I think people abuse this tradition just to embarrass their friend . . .whose birthday probably isnt for months anyway. And, as it happens, when traditions get overused and overdone, they become wicked lame. Last Saturday in Chili's, we heard like 7 happy birthday songs in about a half hour. Come on . . ..

7. Here is something that has gotten old: Reality TV shows (somehow) trying to create suspense by showing white clouds moving across a blue sky . . .really really fast. This seems to be something every reality show does, and I can't figure out why. J'ever notice this happening?

8. The last meandering for today has to do with those ubiquitous automobile stickers, shaped like the "support our troops" ribbons, that say "Autism Awareness." Now this doesnt bother me because I think Autism is not a serious problem (even though I think it has somehow become--should I say--"overdiagnosed") but these signs bother me because they essentially say nothing . . .but they do so with an almost mild dose of "guilt" as if to imply that we, as a general public, arent paying enough attention to disorders others may have, and should somehow do better. Where does it end? And moreover, what do these folks mean when they advertise "awareness" of Autism? As a teacher, I see cases of Autism in my classes, but I dont understand what being "aware" of it means. Is this the latest trend? I fear it may be; it seems as if diseases these days have become almost "markets," if you will for merchandising. From pink ribbons to virtual breast cancer clothing lines to Livestrong bracelets--I fear as if the true message (a very powerful message) will be lost in the "pop-cultureness" of what these things become. But the "Autism Awareness" stickers really concern me for some reason, because it seems like they are "following suit" and trying to find their niche in all this mass-marketed "disease merchandise." What are they really trying to say? I'm bald . . .should I have a "hairloss awareness" sticker on my truck? Or an "obesity awareness" bumper sticker on my water bottle. Or maybe I should have a "summer-haters awareness" T-shirt . . .but I'd probably just sweat right through it

January Road Trip Part II

On Sunday, after helping Ortiz with his iPod, we drove up to Blackstone to visit the Ponticelli family--and I got to see both my godson JJ, and their new house. We got there at around 2, and stayed to watch the Patriots beat the Chargers. We left around 7:30 or so to make our way back to Maine.

JJ is quite the handsome little peanut, and for Christmas we got him a tractor ornament with his name on it, and an awesomely rugged (yet adorable) pair of Carhartt overalls--now he and his godfather JaJa can be sames when they split wood up in Maine. He will undoubtedly be the envy of all the other Blackstone kids, who don't have wicked cool and fat godfathers from Maine bringing them Carhartts. So, in about two or three years, he will fit into them (I said he is a little peanut man . . .)
Amanda and JJ shared some special moments on the kitchen floor playing with both the box and the tissue paper in which his ornament came. Wait a second . . .is that JJ? Or is it TOM BRADY!!?? I can't figure it out! JJ does have a great arm, as evidenced by the fastballs he was throwing at me when we played in his ball-tank downstairs. You can't see it right now . . .but as Amanda and JJ played, big Jason and Jenn were preparing a scrumptious spread of snacks, including some jalepeno poppers, pizza spinners, extreme fajitas . . . .and Jason's famous buffalo chicken dip! This stuff is amazing, and I'll be sure to introduce it to my "Maine clientele." We also noshed on some perfectly done pulled pork, some tasty ale, and a few rich and chocolaty "Henry's special" brownies. A good food festival. Oh yeah . . .and we watched some football too . . .
And here is the gang! From left to right, let me introduce the following: "sleepytime Amanda," "my buddy Tim," J.J. himself, Tina Fey Ponticelli, big Jason, "the artist formerly known as Torey," and Sally Piles. It was a super surprise to see Tore (he dropped the "y" after college) because he was such a great high school friend of ours, and we haven't seen him in ages! He and his fiance Mi-Hyuen are getting married in August (first stateside, and then in Korea) so it was great to hear about that . . .and we got to catch up on the rest of his life, his professorship, his band, etc. This look basically sums up the weekend, huh JJ? It was a fantastic time seeing friends and family, but, when you consider we spent most of the weekend in the Subaru, it stands to reason that Daddy and Mumma-to-be are very tired today (Monday) and will take it easy.

Oh, and its 3 below right now. A fire is raging, and we're just enjoying some nice hot tea. More to come later . . . sorry for the lag in blog entries . . .I was "incommunicado" this weekend. You have to pardon me . . .I speak broken Portuguese

January Road Trip Part I

My mom and dad share the same birthday (its actually today . . .January 21) so this weekend, Amanda and I headed down to Mass to a) visit them for their birthdays and b) exchange Christmas presents, since we still had not seen them for the holidays. Ortiz turns 60 today, so we we went to "Maui" for lunch with me, Amanda, Barbara, Kristin, Stephanie, and and Gabriel. Maui is probably the most famous restaurant in the Goldsmith family--its a Chinese restaurant in Brockton, and, as my dad and I discussed on the way there, I, personally, have been going there for 20 years--my dad and grandparents even longer! It is sort of our "regular" place, and Koran has been our waitress through all the years. She is the world's best waitress, and she literally knows all of us; I hadn't seen her for about 5 years, and she remembered me and Amanda . . . .

After Maui, we headed back to Dad's house where people enjoyed a huge cake baked by Anthony. There was also some great peanut butter cup ice cream.
Barbara's son David had to work, but David's wife Stephanie and their son Gabriel came by. This was the second time Sally and I got to see Gabriel, and he is a huge 1.5 year old! He loves Chinese food, which is always good for a kid--especially if he spends any time around Ortiz!
21st CENTURY ORTIZ!!!

We chipped in and bought Dad an iPod and an iTunes gift certificate. His new truck has a docking station in it, plus he has nice Bose speakers in his house. Plus he likes to sit in his chair. We figured he would enjoy it very much in his retirement . . .and already he seems to be loving it! I spent some time Saturday afternoon (and then again on Sunday morning) giving Dad "iPod 101 for dummies" and he picked it up surprisingly well! We were a little nervous, since Dad JUST learned that you can hit "enter" on the keyboard to make the cursor go to the next line . . .but all in all, he is an iPod savant! The only two problems are that he can't get the headphones in his ears, and he calls it an iPod "nanu" (like Mork and Mindy) instead of a Nano (which it is). He is already downloading songs onto iTunes, and having a good time. After Dad's we headed to exchange gifts with Mom and Bob (I dont know why I fogot to take pictures of this!) and we went to dinner at Chili's. Sally scored, above other things, a really beautiful Vera Bradley overnight bag, and I scored an "old school" Patriots sweatshirt from the pro-shop at Foxboro Stadium.

A really busy day with a lot of driving . . .but its good to see family in Mass.

2 in 1 week?

Snowdays, I'm talking about. Its supposed to be pretty storm for our morning commute, and I think we're supposed to get 7 inches of snow/sleet/ice. When I was a kid, they used to say all three of these things together. But somehow, in the early 2000's, they started calling it a "wintry mix." I swear I never heard that term until I was a senior in college. I wonder who invented it . . .and if they get royalties . . .

If we do have a snowday tomorrow, that is going to really screw things up big time. The week being mid term week meant that we didnt have "regular" academic classes. Plus I was out the Friday before for our ultrasound. We have this coming Monday off, and Tuesday is a day of meetings (no students). THEN, if we have the snowday, Wednesday will be the final day of testing, and we won't continue regular classes until the following Thursday. That means over TWO full weeks without any--what we educators like to call it--"contact time." "Contact time" sounds like something Johnny Crockett used to have with Sonny Caliendo when they played doctor . . .

No showshoeing today, for we were busy with a bunch of errands after work and school. However, I did stop by Joseph's Sporting Goods in "downtown" Fairfield (I'll have to post a picture of our 'downtown' sometime) to check out cross country ski packages . . .all things considered, they're not too pricey! We can get "top of the line" skis, boots, poles, and bindings for under 200 bucks. Plus, I can get "boy, you are really fat and not good at skiing" skis, boots bindings, and poles for about 140 dollars. Perhaps next year for Christmas?? Oh wait . . .Christmas, as we know it, is over for us . . .its all about the bean now . . .

I'll have to post some new pictures of Amanda . . .I swear that her belly literally "popped out" in the last day or so. I have heard of this happening--literally, pregnant women suddenly become bigger "overnight." I think she really looks pregnant now . . .and I see her every day!

By the way, do you know the difference between "everyday" as one word and "every day" as two words? Did you even know there was a difference? You should ask an English teacher. . .

Snow shoe trip #7 (and a Shakespeare Sonnet)

So its mid term exam week at WHS, so when you combine writing exams, correcting exams, averaging grades for the end of the second quarter, AND moving into a brand new room across campus, things definitely get "CRAZY" (I'm victim of my own meandering) in the life of Goldsmith. This is why, after exams today, I took to the backwoods of Fairfield, snowshoes strapped on, in search of some peace and quiet. As always when I head into the woods, I find exactly what I am looking for; I think Fairfield is a beautiful town. I came across a "deer hotel," if you will. See the trails leading up to the base of the trees? What deer will often do is find a secluded and sheltered spot, "thresh" it by kicking away snow and piling on leaves and pine needles, and then sleep there. I learned about these types of spots from Amanda; she is a real "wilderness detective!" An eerie part of the trip was how, for 80% of it, I saw no signs of houses or farms or anything. I forget sometimes just how big Fairfield is. Also, I picked a beautiful time of day in which to go--it was for that last hour or so of daylight, when the sky's palette is rich with silvers, pinks, purples, and reds. I know that sounds wicked lame. Shut up. You had to be there . . ..
There were lots of fields to traverse this afternoon, which is a change from being "in the woods" so to speak. This meant there was a lot more wind . . .in fact my face looks very Irish red today. But every once in a while you'd come across beautiful little spots like this where you were once again led into the shelter of the pines. . . .
Here's a poem I was thinking about as I was snowshoeing this afternoon--its Shakespeare's sonnet Number 73. He wrote well over a hundred sonnets, and they go in chronological order (#1 was written while he was young . . .#99 was written when he was an older man, etc.) Number 73, was, obviously, written in the "September" of his years . . .and its about the realization death is near. But I also think its a poem about just "stillness," and the natural cycle of the seasons (and life) and how we can always, always, always count on love. I hope you take the couple of minutes to read it--and maybe even understand it. I think he's a beautiful writer of poetry . . .

Sonnet 73
William Shakespeare

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the deathbed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Education Philosophy . . .

Well, its mid term week at WHS. I think there has been so closure to my "room" situation. I havent really written about this, but the "room" in which I was slated to teach was too small to fit the students I have in English. I literally could not fit 25 desks in this room . . .no joke. The renovation of WHS is definitely laughable in many aspects, but that is all I'll say. My new room (I think the one I'll be in) is very nice; I can fit my students in it at any rate. Plus, it has a great history: it was the former educational forum for the young and talented Zachary Longyear, my good friend. Here are some educational ideas I was thinking about as I watched fat old people swim at the pool today.

1. At what point do you delineate between "art" and "skill?" And I'm not just talking about education . . .I'm talking about life in general. We call some things "art" and some things "skills." But there seems to be shades of gray amongst these ideas. For example, it is status quo to call painting, songwriting, and music an "art." But something like math, Spanish, or grammar is a "skill." But then little kids are taught "skills" on the pop warner football field which someone like Tom Brady can then turn into an "art." I guess the reason it concerns me so much is because there seems to be no accountability (from a teaching perspective anyway) with "art." If a kid takes "intro to drawing" or "chorus" and can neither draw a square nor sing an un-flat note, they don't necessarily fail. Not only that, but its seen as "okay" if they can't do these things. Did they TRY hard enough though? That is the question. Why is this the case? As a teacher of writing, I believe writing is, in many ways, an "art" not a skill. Some people merely do not posses the ability to write well--they have no vision, no purpose, no sentence fluency. I dont necessarily think writing is a "skill," as it is probably thought of in academia (since skills can be assessed, and arts cannot). Furthermore, it bothers me that math teachers and English teachers are "hung out to dry" when kids fail at learning paragraph formation or quadratic equations . . . .so why isnt an art teacher called on the carpet when a kid sucks at drawing? And why isnt a gym teacher chastised if we have a losing season of football or soccer? Were they not teaching the skills??

2. I dont know if its true for other disciplines, but I feel like its true for English: teachers are expected to "practice their craft." And why shouldnt they? Obviously, we teach according to our passions, right? I know Fuzzy, who teaches American government, is an ardent fan of politics, and probably will make a great town clerk one day (ha ha). And I know that I am passionate about my songwriting . . .and crafting entertaining and original (at least 13% of the time) blogs each day. This is why I feel bad for math teachers: what is their "art?" And, although a lot of academic teachers do in fact practice their "craft," one looming segment of our teaching population stands out: the gym teacher. I'm curious to know: has anyone out there EVER had a gym teacher who could run a mile in under 10 minutes? Or do 30 pushups? Every gym teacher I've ever had has been fat and out of shape (Morse, Duggan, Trombley . . .) My friends can attest to this. Isnt that hypocritical? Shouldnt they be in shape? I'm expected to write well. Rick is expected to answer tax questions (he teaches accounting). Its a given that Karl is fluent in Spanish, since he teaches it. How did gym teachers somehow become exonerated?

3. Finally, since I am on somewhat of a rant here, let me bring up another valid question (which I know is ridiculous . . .but it hilights some of the absurdity with our educational system). One of the gravest epidemics facing our young people is childhood obesity. Yet, English teachers are put on "probation" if kids dont perform well on writing tests. There is virtual "surveillance" on math teachers if their kids don't perform well on state assessments. But there is nothing even WHISPERED about holding P.E. teachers accountable for the fatness of our youth; and I think this problem FAR outweighs the "problem" that a kid can't write well . . .I mean, we're talking about lifelong health, heart disease, cancer, etc. The gym teachers obviously aren't teaching the kids well enough, because obesity continues to be a problem. I have kids who play guitar hero and "World of Warcraft" for 5 or 6 hours a day. That is laziness. Its a serious problem . . .they need to LEARN how to implement some "physical activity" into their lives. So how are these kids "graded" in class? Is it from their own performance on physical fitness tests? Is it a "self improvement" journal where they chronicle ways in which they are eating healthier? Is it from a report they do on cholesterol or protein? No. In fact, many of the gym teachers with whom I have experience determine half of your grade if you simply change your clothes. Wow. What do you think about that?? (oh . . .but you can't MAKE the kid exercise . . .you can't MAKE them eat well at home . . .blah blah blah . . .)

Welcome to my world.

DINNER, NAKED OLD MEN, AND SNOW

Another huge nor'easter in Maine today . . .in fact it is still snowing pretty strong and its after 8pm as I write this. This is some winter; I've seen a ton of 10-12 inchers this in the past two months (thats what SHE said!!!).

Last night Brick and Nacho took us out to Asian Cafe--probably the Goldsmith's favorite restaurant. Neither one of us have ever had anything there that wasnt purely delicious. In the photos you can see some "Asian roll" (which is just tofu in the middle) and "Spicy Tuna roll," which I tried for the first time last night (thats what she said--again!). My dinner, which is pictured as well, consisted of basil chicken, some homemade crab rangoons, and a nice little salad with this really neat pureed carrot dressing. Thanks again Brick and Nacho for a great dinner . . .we appreciate you taking us out!

I have written before about my fascination with naked old men. Wait. Let me start that again. What I MEAN is that I have written before about how I find it so fascinating and strange that old men seem to walk around gym locker rooms so unabashedly--I think that men, over 60, at gyms and pools, are at their most comfortable when they are naked and in groups. Today was no different. Because of the snow day today, I hit the pool early this morning ("no school" was called before it even STARTED snowing!). The pool was, essentially, a geriatric stew of sorts, and I was "spoken to" by a couple of very large women for trying to "swim" while they frolicked around and talked about Oprah and how big their underwear was . . .but that is a different story.

What was really unusual was a conversation I had with a guy in the hot tub (I was feeling pretty sore, so I took a 10 minute soak after my workout). This conversation continued from the hot tub to the locker room to the shower to the front door of the fitness center. As I write this, I realize how ridiculous this whole situation sounds . . .but it was one of the best conversations I've had in a long time . . .and I didnt even know the guy (his name was Jerry I found out). Jerry was an older gentleman with a ton of tattoos--sort of a harbinger of what my generation will one day look like when 80 year old women have "tramp stamps" and guys have "barbed wire" etchings around their saggy triceps. Jerry's tattoos were interesting: two "silver stars" tattooed on each breast. A few inches above each silver star was a "star of David" (a Jewish star). On the top of each shoulder he had what looked like Japanese writing, and under the inscription on the left shoulder, was some sort of Army insignia--probably of his squadron or platoon.

Jerry served in WWII, and he won TWO silver stars "doing what anybody would do in that situation," as he said (the silver star is one of the highest military honors for valor you can win--I think its right under the Congressional Medal of Honor). He got the two stars of David after he witnessed firsthand the devastation of the Nazi concentration camps, and he felt compelled to honor the Jewish people by always "keeping them with him." He didnt say what the Japanese writing "said," but he did tell me that he got the tattoos as a way to deal with the further devastation he felt when WWII ended in the Pacific Theater after we bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki--hence the two inscriptions. Again, he said, it was a way for him to show his respect to the decimated enemy.

I guess what I found so amazing about this guy was how, amidst all that he could talk about, he was interested in me. He told me he enjoyed watching me swim because he so rarely sees "young people" with "so much heart and discipline." He should spend some more time with me . . ha ha. But also, he seemed just as impressed with me as I was with him when he found out how I was an English teacher. He thought teaching was just about the most noble thing anyone could do, he said, and some of his greatest regrets were the fact that he didnt pay attention in English class as a kid, and the fact that he never learned to write "beautifully" in cursive.

I could ramble on here, but it was just such an usual meeting at the pool today. I think the funniest part was when he had me "proofread" a letter he was sending to a furniture store; I guess this furniture store built a special rocking chair for his daughter in law and his new grandson, and he wanted to express his thanks through a letter. I guess the thing I am most wondering about is why he had the letter with him in the first place???

Coming soon: A little boy!

That's right! The Goldsmith's will soon be parents of a little guy . . . will he be a little Jared? A Callum? A Charlie? Natron? Dirkadirkajihad? Who knows . . .I think we'll have to meet him first to see what he looks like. At the risk (actually, the utmost KNOWLEDGE) of sounding cliche, this ultrasound truly was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen in person. How they have developed technology to see the little bean's vertebrae, the four chambers of his heart (which, right now, is about the size of your pinky nail) his gums, his kidneys, his liver, and his femur bone, is nothing short of extraordinary. We were blessed to find out that, so far, he is very healthy and free of any complications. Look at the beautiful mumma-to-be lying on the ultrasound table. You can't tell by looking at the hand of the doctor, but it is a RUSSIAN hand. This is very important to know . . . The doctor was able to tell us how, currently, the little guy is weighing in at a cool 9 ounces--it is estimated that 4 of these ounces are actually crab rangoon filling, just like his dad (relatively speaking). He was a very cooperative young man, showing us all the "goods" like his little wee wee, his legs, his face, and his arms and legs. I realize I sound like a yenta as I write this, but oh well. Its my boy I'm writing about here. He was very curious as we watched him on the monitor, and he explored his hands, his face, and his fingers. At one point, it even looked like he was "clapping." Again, this he must inherit from his dad, and I am sure if the bean were wearing pants, he would be adjusting those too. Below is a picture of Amanda with the "defining photo" that told us the sex . . . .

I dont know how I didnt make it into one of these pictures, but that's fine with me! Below is one of the happy grandparents Now comes the fun part--figuring out what we need from Babies R Us . . .oh my gosh this is a nightmare. I dont even want to write about it. I think that deciding on a stroller/car seat combo is going to be more difficult than closing on our house. This is fodder for a completely different blog, but there is just so much ridiculous crap out there for babies now. I remember (from seeing pictures) that my mom used to bathe my fat ass in the sink, in a small orange tupperware tub. She didnt need . . .oh . . . let's say a tub that plugs into the wall and not only heats the water, but also has four turbo jets that create a "whirlpool" for the infant. I am also pretty sure that, when I was a baby, my mom and dad might have put me up for a nap, and then listened to see if I were crying--or at the very most have had a monitor/walkie-talkie thing. I am almost sure that they didnt need an LCD projector to transmit an image of the baby sleeping onto a screen that they could mount in the living room--just so they could watch every movement of me. Needless to say, it is very overwhelming.

But it is the best "overwhelmment" we have ever felt.

Too long!

I think this is the longest I have gone without publishing a blog! I have been very busy lately, with lots going on. I will report tomorrow on our Friday appointment!! PLease check back . . .

Randy asked for a user friendly guide to understanding the names people use when they comment on the blog. Here goes my best effort:

STRAZ: I can only assume this is Sarah Straz (formerly Sarah Hatch) only I have no way of knowing because she has never called me back.

BELLE: This is Michelle, Amanda's cousin from New Jersey. Belle is her nickname

ORTIZ: This is my dad, Henry. First it was dad. Then "Daddy Henry." Then "DH." Then, "Ortiz," named after David Ortiz, the DH for the sox

M.I.L.: This stands for "mother in law" and it is Lynne, Amanda's mom

QVC QUEEN/AUNT JUNE: This stands for Aunt June, Amanda's aunt in New Jersey. She is addicted to QVC and buying items from said channel

**There are a myriad of other "imposters," and these are usually my friends "The Greek,"Jay, and the Rev. Johnny C.

Today was a good spring day (yuk) and I split a bunch of the oak we had in our garage. We had Emily and Duncan over for supper. We watched the Pats beat the Jaguars. And that is all for now. Very busy . . .please check back tomorrow!!

Meanderings 22- Whatever is on my mind . . .

1. I saw on the news tonight that Britney Spears and her family refused an offer of intervention from Dr. Phil. Apparently, they dont want all their "dirty laundry" to be brought out to the media. . . .

2. How come "into" is one word, but "out of" is two words? You can't go into something without getting out of what you were previously "in." So why the savage inequalities with the two words? That's not fair at all.

3. I got to thinking about movies the other day and I began to wonder about things like which actor has died on screen the most times, which actress has been naked the most (not counting adult film, of course), who has been in the most love scenes, who has eaten the most food, who has had the most lines, and all kinds of trivial stuff like that. Someone should do that, and then publish their findings on a power point presentation. Those would be pretty cool awards . . ."and the award for the actor to have his ass shown on film more than any other actor in the history of film is . . . .DANNY DEVITO" and stuff like that . . .

4. Sometimes we forget just how short Danny DeVito really is. But he is so cute.

5. How did football become a "Sunday" thing? I think about this every year when the playoffs are on and they have some games on Saturdays. Saturdays are a way better day to have football games . . .I bet the NFL would see a rise in viewers, and advertisers would get more bang for their buck because people would swarm Hannaford to by beer, chips, and olive loaf, since they could watch the game/party that night because they dont have to work the next day. Unless your name is Josh Adams or Brian Kemish and you go to UNH, who the heck can hang out and party and drink beers on a Sunday night? Its such a downer, ya know? When I'm president, after banning tractor trailers from the road except between the hours of 10p.m. and 7 a.m., I will ensure that football becomes a Saturday sport.

6. What is the "bench" we use to measure a "benchmark" achievement? And stuff . . .

7. "Hey . . .we built a new house!" Of course you did moron . . .what, did you build on OLD house? Did you take down a perfectly good house and then use the same lumber and nails to make it look different? The word "new" is so overused. We got a new car. We got a new cat. I have a new haircut. Its all new if you are just getting it. You dont "get" anything that you "used to have." Ya know what I mean?

8. If I was a girl and I taught social studies, I would teach an elective called "HERstory: the role of women in the 20th century and beyond." Just kidding . . .that would be stupid!!

9. TV commercials can be as stupid, asinine, dangerous, and inappropriate as they want, and all they have to "legally" do is have "DO NOT ATTEMPT" flash across the screen at the beginning of the commercial. Everyone else has to get lawyers and insurance and all that good stuff. But all Chevy has to do when they have some idiot drive a Silverado, blindfolded, through the desert at night,with no headlights, and a herd of camels chasing the truck, all to show how great the rear view mirrors are, is say DO NOT ATTEMPT, and they are scot-free. Silly huh?

10. And while we're on the subject, what's up with all these car commercials showing someone driving someplace cool looking, and getting the news that this is a "Professional Driver" on a "closed course." Where are all these closed courses? What happens after the commercials are done? Do they become like previously used Olympic Stadiums that slowly deteriorate over time? Are they now open to the public? Can people pay 60 bucks to "make a commercial just like the pros?" I wonder which state has the most "closed courses." Do they get turned into museums?

11. Sometimes when I am brushing my teeth and I am in a rush, I will turn the water on before I am ready to actually spit, because I think this somehow "buys me time" and makes the whole process faster. Do you do this? I also find myself, when feeling hurried while driving someplace, unbuckling my seat belt about two minutes before I arrive at my destination, just so I dont have to go through the arduous process of unbuckling my seat belt when I get there. Again, I feel like I am somehow "cutting corners" and buying time. You know you do this . . ..

12. In the Morning Sentinel this morning, on the front page, there was a full color photo of people walking down a slushy sidewalk in Waterville. The article was about the recent warming trend we've been having. The caption under the picture said "Mark and Diane Suchandsuch try to avoid puddles walking down Main Street in Waterville." I immediately showed my students, who immediately picked up on the misplaced modifier (grammatical error) in the sentence. Can you? If I worked for this newspaper, I'd be embarrassed . . .they make the most ridiculous errors.

Midwife Meeting # 4

Is it really January? Today (as you probably know) reached 54 degrees here in Fairfield Maine. Ridiculous. I ran three miles outside today--something I havent been able to do for a while (run outside . . .not the three miles silly). A crappy run because everything was wet and slick . . .but anything beats a treadmill, and it was too dark to go snowshoeing.

So Ortiz called to tell me he has pneumonia and cannot leave the house for ten days. So for any of you who have stock in "Fresh Catch" or Walgreens, get ready because you're going to take a hit. But that's the market I guess . . . lets wish Dad well and hope he gets better soon.

Yesterday we had our fourth meeting with the midwife--yesterday we met with Shannon instead of Bjarni, just in case she is on call when Amanda goes into labor. Our biggest baby news of late is that I was able to feel the bean MOVE for the first time yesterday. All along, Amanda thought she was just feeling "gas pains," but Shannon informed us (after examining them herself) that this, in fact, was the little bean, moving around, adjusting his pants, just like his dad. Everyone always says these types of things are "unable to be described in words." And they are right. Suffice to say it was just a special moment. Amanda informs me that the bean really loves Coldplay, since when she plays the CD on the way to work, he/she moves around like crazy . . . .so we head down to Portland in a couple of days to see what, exactly, is in there.

A voice that only gets better with age

One of my favorite Christmas gifts from Amanda this year was my James Taylor "One Man Band" album. Its funny--I used to absolutely HATE James Taylor's voice and his music. But ever since early in college, I have grown to love it. There's just something about his voice and his music that reminds me of "home" . . .whether that is home in Massachusetts, home in seacoast NH, or home in Fairfield Maine. I first became attached to his songwriting when I was a student at an Outward Bound sailing survival school off of Thompson's Island in Boston Harbor. His "Hourglass" album (my personal favorite studio album of his) had just come out, and it really influenced me a lot. I was still a relatively new songwriter, and I found his poetic images simple, yet mesmerizing.

When I was a freshman at UNH, there was this fifty-something year old hippy that used to sell bootleg cassette tapes for five dollars outside the MUB (student center) mailboxes. I think he sold tapestries, bongs, and incense too. But since my freshman roommate had that covered, I bought some tapes. I found a JT tape from a show he did in the early 80's while performing at Great Woods near my hometown of Easton. On it was a relatively obscure song called "Frozen Man," which was inspired by a National Geographic story of these archaeologists who uncovered, in Siberia, a frozen, yet utterly preserved homo sapien dating back about two thousand years. These scientists completely violated the sanctity of this man's repose, doctoring him up, and making him camera ready. It was a beautiful and sad song, and I remember listening to it in my Sony WALKMAN (remember those!!!??) as I walked through Durham January snowstorm. Everything seemed to fit so perfectly--the weather, the lyrics, and my own state of mind.

I have wonderful memories of seeing James Taylor at Great Woods (Tweeter Center) with the lovely Sarah Straz--my favorite memory (and one Sarah will undoubtedly remember) was making fun of the family all camped out on a blanket next to ours on the lawn. It was like Tommy Hilfiger and the Kennedy's all had a baby, and the baby was this family. Every single one of them wore khaki pants and blue polo shirts, and they had a spread of Merlot (pronounced MAHHER-LO) and some semi soft French cheese that probably cost 15 bucks a pound. I can't fully explain how nauseating they were . . .but they sucked. I also got to seem him with Amanda a couple of summers ago when the family of a student I had (and still keep in good touch with . . .in fact, the father owns a bar I frequent, and the mother cleans my teeth . . .fun!) took us to see him in Portland. The title of this blog doesnt do him justice--his voice just DOES get more amazing with age. A spellbinding show.

Lastly, I dont know how many of you remember, but Amanda and I used a JT song for our bridal party dance at our wedding: Secret O'Life.

Its kind of weird how singers and songwriters we dont even know can hold such a special place in our hearts, but that is what James Taylor does for Amanda and I. I can't recommend his new album enough! It is basically a greatest hits album, only it is completely live (out in western Mass) and completely acoustic (well . . he has a piano join him on a few songs). I am afraid to listen to it, because I dont want to get sick of it . . .its that good.

But dont take my word for it . . . .da da DA! (cue "Reading Rainbow" music)

this new album

Winter Weekend

The "warm weather" we were supposed to get this weekend seemed to have held off a bit (both days were in the low to mid 30's), so I took advantage to go on two fantastic snowshoe trips. Yesterday I went with Eric down the "Marcoux trail" right across the street from our house. I love this trail because I dont have to drive there . . .I just walk right down Billy Marcoux's driveway and strap on my shoes. No one had been out there since the two big storms we had (probably because of the sub zero temps), so Eric and I had our work cut out for us, breaking trail in two-plus feet of powder. Since a good part of the trip took place in expansive fields, it was really neat to see all the animal tracks (deer, coyote, and I-have-no-idea) and the artistic looking snow drifts that were all rippled from the wind.

Today's trip was taken alone, since Amanda was out. Today I took the snowmobile trails running through Fairfield. I snowshoed for about an hour, and I must have seen between 20 or 30 snowmobilers pass by me--I am continually impressed by the courtesy they show to skiers, walkers, and snowshoers, for they slow right down IMMEDIATELY upon seeing you standing there. Its great to be able to share these multi-use trails that traverse some beautiful Maine countryside. I walked through some beautiful pine groves and birch forests today, and what is exceptionally beautiful is the way that, in the deep woods, the snow still sticks to tree limbs and branches; the cover is so thick that the sun hasnt been able to melt it yet.

Amanda and Mandy Pelotte went out to lunch today while I went for my winter walk. They went to "The Last Unicorn" which is a real uppity place in Waterville where the service sucks and the "waitresses" get mad if you dont order alcohol with your meal because that means your bill wont be as high. But Amanda had a great time with Mandy, and she said her sandwich is terrific (although she did remark how they were in there for like two hours having lunch because the service is so poor) and I am glad they get together; they are great friends. Mandy has her hands full with her two boys (both under the age of 2!!) so it is great when Amanda and Mandy do find the time to get together.

Well, I hear Amanda's garage door opening, so that means I should go and help her unload the groceries--I am cooking her "cheeseburger pie" tonight . . .a college standby! Oh, and hopefully Johnny Crockett will send me some pictures from Nevada, where the blizzard he is currently undergoing is rendering him with 4+ FEET of snow. Johnny-send me some pics . . .I'll make you famous by posting them on my blog . . .

18 weeks today

As you can from this evening's updated pictures, Amanda's belly is starting to show a little bit more. However, she informs me, "I am really not that big for 18 weeks." I guess she must not be carrying MY son then . . .ha ha. We've noticed that her belly button is starting to pop out a little more too. It looks weird. But things are going well, her energy and appetite are great, and we are preparing for next Friday in Portland, where we'll find out the race, sex, religion, nationality, and party affiliation of our little bean. When we find out if its a boy or a girl, will we still call it "the bean?" I both hope and think so. Its fun to think about what our baby will look like, and we find ourselves talking about it all the time. Will it look like Amanda? Will it have no eyebrows or shoulders? Will it have a funny "Dunphy nose?" Or will it look like Jared? Will it never even bother growing hair? Will it have big fat "now and later" lips? Will it walks with its feet pointed out like its dad? So many questions remain!

Tomorrow the girl is going with her mom to get some maternity clothes and, if you can believe it, some more YARN so she can "start knitting" some baby clothes. I know this will provoke a comment from Ortiz. I plan on snowshoeing tomorrow, as its supposed to be warmer. At any rate, I'll be putting a pulled pork on for dinner tomorrow night. Gonna slow cook me a nice pork butt!

Demotivational Posters

Remember these things . . . . Those super annoying-shiny-happy little posters you used to see in break rooms and offices all over the place? They were supposed to inspire me, but they usually just pissed me off. Well now its time to have some fun. For some time now, Jay, Johnny, Timmy, and I have been laughing our butts off by touring some of the hilarious "demotivational posters" that are featured on a web site we frequent. Jason, who is also a prolific bowler, somehow found the ability to make one's own posters. The possibilities, as you can see, are truly endless. God bless the internet!

Blizzard? It makes snow difference to us!

During the winter of 1996, two interesting things happened: One, it was the winter I started my chemo treatments. Two, it was the snowiest and coldest winter I remember having. On the ride into Boston to get my treatments, I used to notice a Bickfords restaurant just off Rt 93 as we approached the then south station tunnel. The title of today's blog comes from something they had on their marquee board during the month of January that year. I like puns and double entendres, but I also like snow. Very much. Snow doesnt make a negative "difference" to me, because I love having snow.

I am home today (we get an extra day's vacation, and I get a day to recover from whatever bug has been plaguing me) because of the second huge storm in as many days we got--this one dumped well over a foot of snow on an already impressive base from previous storms. Its been some winter! I love the neighborhood in which we live--everyone helps everyone else with removal of the lovely white stuff, whether it be snowblowing, shoveling, roofraking, or massage providing. Not really. But I love how everyone "pays it forward." I've never seen the movie, but I understand the concept. And when one person is helped by someone else, that person, by the "unwritten code of neighbors," then helps someone else who needs it. Very cool.

Here are some storm pictures. We're running out of places to PUT the snow, however. Our driveway, walkway, and "trail" the wood pile make our yard look like Hoth. Honk if you know what that reference means. I suspect Jay, Johnny, Ortiz, and Tim will know. Maybe Randy too.
The drifts are well over 6 feet tall. Perfect for a fort or burying a body . . .
Ah . . .morning has broken. And so has my back. I tried to rake off much of the roof and valley so we dont get ice dams ("Good boy . . .thats a good idea" says Ortiz). We got Sally Piles a nice clear driveway, since she had to go to work.
Traditionally, on New Year's Day (by the way . . .sorry I botched the title of the last blog ) we go to Ensign Walters for pork and sauerkraut. Because of both the storm and my not feeling well, we stayed home. We ran to Hannaford though, and I made us a boiled dinner of corned beef and cabbage. It sucked actually. Hannaford doesnt sell "Mosey's," which anyone from the Boston area will tell you is the best. Next time I'll have to copy Fuzzy's seafood Shepard's pie. While I cooked, Amanda caught up with her good friend Andrea, whom she hasnt spoken to for a long time. Hi Andrea!!!
I was FORCED by Amanda and Thomas to finally LIE DOWN and RELAX so I could feel better. Thomas even put his whole body weight on me so I couldnt move. Oh well . . .I dont mind. . . .