Since I have a speedy internet connection (for the moment) - I'll continue sharing. #1 son is heading to Ecuador on a mission trip in July. He is really excited. A HUGE thank you to all of you who have donated to make this possible.
#1 son is a little leery about the national delicacy of guinea pig (we watched the Globe Trekker on Ecuador) and disappointed that the tour won't include a stop at the Galapagos Islands. He has decided that strictly vegetarian is the best route to take when heading outside of the homeland.
Right now preparations are underway, including waiting for his passport to arrive. Does it really need to take 10 weeks?? Now we shop for very light items for him to take along as there is, of course, a weight limit on the luggage. Fun, fun. Can't wait to share photos and stories of his adventures.
5/21/2007
Book Recommendations
I find myself with a lot more time on my hands now that I'm not doing things like, oh, learning the parts of the nephron, memorizing the process of sperm production-taking the trip from genesis to implantation, memorizing 200 of the muscles in the body, reviewing karotyping and so much more fun stuff. SO, I find myself standing in the library, staring at the books wanting to play 'catch-up' from the many months I missed but don't know where to start. Do you have any recommendations?
Friday night
A huge storm swept past our house on Friday night. A funnel cloud was spotted within this storm about 45 minutes prior to the same system sweeping past our house. We watched the clouds swirl from the doorway of the outside entry to our basement. The camera only captured a fraction of the scope of the clouds across the sky.
Grades/Next Year
My grades came out at 4.0 for this semester. Overall GPA is 3.88 due to two 'B's' last spring. I'm OK with it. Next year brings chemistry and microbiology, among other fun stuff. I know, those of you who began this journey with me feel like I should be done by now. Patience for us all...I am still able to homeschool the kids (who also did quite well this year in their schoolwork) while managing a full time class load.
NO classes this summer so we will do fun things like Botany and maybe even a unit on Birds with the girls. It feels odd not to awaken at 5AM to study anatomy and physiology!
NO classes this summer so we will do fun things like Botany and maybe even a unit on Birds with the girls. It feels odd not to awaken at 5AM to study anatomy and physiology!
Bar Envy
One of the unique foods in the upper midwest includes 'bars.' When we first moved here I was asked to supply bars for a funeral luncheon. The only bars I knew of were rice krispie bars - not something I associated with a funeral, but rather a backyard event with children. I made what I thought would pass for bars. My Mom warned me I was sending cake. Sure enough, the thank you note thanked me for the delicious cake. Thus began my quest to understand 'bars.'
Actually quest overstates the situation. Frankly it only comes up once a year or so. I hadn't given it much thought until the girls' piano teacher asked me to bring a pan of bars to the piano recital lunch. Don't worry about bringing them plated, she had bar trays! The pressure...I couldn't take it. Many farm women have a specialty type (or two or three). I'm not there. I shopped for a box of brownies. I thought I had it licked. I followed the directions carefully, baking in a beautiful clear glass 9x13 pan. I even carefully sprinkled powdered sugar on top. I had it licked...until I proudly carried my offering into the church kitchen. I found that I need a bar pan. This is a 9x13 no stick pan with a lid (not foil, you cretin). The other women eyed my brownies with suspicion as they didn't come in a BAR PAN. I took over half of my brownies home! Shopping.
Actually quest overstates the situation. Frankly it only comes up once a year or so. I hadn't given it much thought until the girls' piano teacher asked me to bring a pan of bars to the piano recital lunch. Don't worry about bringing them plated, she had bar trays! The pressure...I couldn't take it. Many farm women have a specialty type (or two or three). I'm not there. I shopped for a box of brownies. I thought I had it licked. I followed the directions carefully, baking in a beautiful clear glass 9x13 pan. I even carefully sprinkled powdered sugar on top. I had it licked...until I proudly carried my offering into the church kitchen. I found that I need a bar pan. This is a 9x13 no stick pan with a lid (not foil, you cretin). The other women eyed my brownies with suspicion as they didn't come in a BAR PAN. I took over half of my brownies home! Shopping.
Spring
Rather than give a day by day update, I will summarize the 2007 lambing season.
Totals include: 19 ewes, 38 lambs. Unfortunately, that number does not stand as the number 'on the ground' as the professionals say. This spring we were reminded that farming does not mean white fluffy lambs jumping around without assistance from the humans.
#19 had one lamb dead and after examination we (#1 husband and I) determined she had another inside of her. This involved literal extraction and a glove on my hand that extended all the way to my shoulder. The lamb was dead and had been for at least a day. That was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Favorite husband did more than his share as well. We remained in agreement that we never want to do that again. #19 seems to have a pelvis too narrow to accommodate lambs. Bye, bye.
Another sheep had triplets. The youngest was not doing well. We brought her in the house and literally snatched her from the brink of death. Sunny bonded with Hank and we found her chasing cars with him as she did not consider herself a sheep. Well, sadly, after being with us for three weeks we found her dead - no apparent cause. The same week we lost two more lambs - again, without obvious reasons. We consulted the experts at NDSU, but without a necropsy (autopsy for a sheep) we had only speculation. Speculation that extended to the lambs possibly succumbing to overspray from nearby fields, having drank from the creek that may have contained field run-off - who knows!? We certainly don't, but losing three lambs, especially Sunny (the bottle lamb who thought she was a dog) was very difficult.
But the happy news is that one sheep had a set of triplets that contain the tiniest lamb we have ever seen. We actually took our kitchen scale out to weight the smallest little guy. He tipped the scales at a whopping three pounds. A 'normal' lamb weighs around eight. Our #1 daughter wants to keep him, but I think his cuteness will wear off as he grows larger.
It's not all warm and fuzzy on the farm.
Totals include: 19 ewes, 38 lambs. Unfortunately, that number does not stand as the number 'on the ground' as the professionals say. This spring we were reminded that farming does not mean white fluffy lambs jumping around without assistance from the humans.
#19 had one lamb dead and after examination we (#1 husband and I) determined she had another inside of her. This involved literal extraction and a glove on my hand that extended all the way to my shoulder. The lamb was dead and had been for at least a day. That was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Favorite husband did more than his share as well. We remained in agreement that we never want to do that again. #19 seems to have a pelvis too narrow to accommodate lambs. Bye, bye.
Another sheep had triplets. The youngest was not doing well. We brought her in the house and literally snatched her from the brink of death. Sunny bonded with Hank and we found her chasing cars with him as she did not consider herself a sheep. Well, sadly, after being with us for three weeks we found her dead - no apparent cause. The same week we lost two more lambs - again, without obvious reasons. We consulted the experts at NDSU, but without a necropsy (autopsy for a sheep) we had only speculation. Speculation that extended to the lambs possibly succumbing to overspray from nearby fields, having drank from the creek that may have contained field run-off - who knows!? We certainly don't, but losing three lambs, especially Sunny (the bottle lamb who thought she was a dog) was very difficult.
But the happy news is that one sheep had a set of triplets that contain the tiniest lamb we have ever seen. We actually took our kitchen scale out to weight the smallest little guy. He tipped the scales at a whopping three pounds. A 'normal' lamb weighs around eight. Our #1 daughter wants to keep him, but I think his cuteness will wear off as he grows larger.
It's not all warm and fuzzy on the farm.
5/20/2007
3/02/2007
2/07/2007
Grandma
The smell kept me from pretending this was Grandma’s living room. I could explain away the nursing home furniture -- the couches and chairs with their slippery, scrubbable surfaces. I missed the golden-rod colored couch that always rested against the living room’s north wall in Grandma’s small house, the blue chair that clicked as it spun all the way around, the clock ticking on the wall hanging above the desk in a corner. Her desk was full of cubbyholes stuffed with airmail envelopes from Norway and black-and-white photos of people I barely recognized. For a few moments I imagined I was eight years old again – a long time ago, more than 25 years, but I couldn’t get away from the smell. Gone was the mixture of cigarette smoke, coffee, and caramel rolls baking, the memory rudely replaced by the odor of bodily functions, the kind kids snickered about as ten-year-olds, the odor of slightly unwashed bodies and the underlying current of disinfectant. I couldn’t make that go away. An involuntary deep breath abruptly rushed me back to reality. My Grandma had been an incredible woman and because of the disease, Alzheimer’s, that was gradually consuming her mind, she was being torn from me a little bit at a time.
The first sign that something was out of sorts was the year I turned 27. I didn’t receive a birthday card from Grandma. She always prided herself on making certain that greetings arrived on the exact day of the birthday, not one day late, not two days early. She trusted the U.S. Postal System would do their job if she did hers. Grandma even enclosed a few dollars from her meager Social Security income with each card. That year there was nothing, not late, not early. I didn’t say anything to anyone, not wanting to sound greedy as if I were missing the money, but I did miss the sentiment.
Today, Grandma sat tilted to one side in a wheelchair. A scarf covered her wisps of hair that before, had always been concealed by a carefully groomed wig. Grandma was dressed in one of her usual polyester outfits, but now it was stained down the front where some of her lunch landed. Grandma smiled readily, but the smile didn’t go all of the way to her eyes – only a blankness looked back at me.
My Grandma always was a powerful force in my life. My earliest memories are of her alone. Grandpa died when I was two years old. Grandma chose, for reasons she never shared with me, to live the rest of her life without a spouse. She was alone, without marital companionship, but never lacked friends. The coffee pot percolated constantly at Grandma’s. She kept a stash of homemade caramel rolls or a cake in the kitchen ready to share with friends and family who dropped by throughout the day and sometimes far into the night. Mavis, the woman from across the street; Thelva, the Avon lady; Joyce, the neighborhood busybody – all left cigarette butts ringed with bright red and pink lipstick in the ashtray on Grandma’s coffee table as they gossiped far into the night.
I didn’t know that today would be the last time I saw Grandma communicate in a meaningful way. On the television, Lawrence Welk and his orchestra began to play the hymn, “In the Garden.” Grandma started humming the melody. Mom immediately picked up on Grandma’s interest and started singing the words. I was stunned to hear Grandma switch to harmony and begin to vocalize the lyrics. Even though she didn’t know my name or that she had just eaten chicken for lunch, Grandma knew all of the words to every verse of that song. I could not stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks when I heard my mom urging Grandma, “Sing, Mother, sing,” as Mom too, seemed to realize this was a significant moment. When the song ended, Grandma sank back into her blank stare.
Through the preceding few years, visits to Grandma’s house became less frequent. One trip, however, stands out in my memory. My aunts, mother, and I traveled to Minot to prepare a party for Grandma’s 80th birthday. Little and big, the changes we experienced upon walking through the door of her home were undeniable. The kitchen’s overwhelming stench smacked us in the face. A small amount of detective work brought me to one of the pantry shelves where Grandma had placed several cans of orange juice concentrate. Maybe she just had a “senior moment” and forgot, but Grandma’s kitchen never had crumbs on the counter or a dirty dish in the sink, reason told me.
Now, this afternoon, Grandma no longer recognized me, her granddaughter. I tried to remind her of what I thought we meant to one another. I introduced myself and even used the private, childish nickname that was just between the two of us. There was no light in her eyes -- I was just a nice lady who came to see her, gave her a kiss on the cheek, a gentle hug, and chattered for a while about things she didn’t seem to understand. My “I love you Grandma” and “good-bye” were muted as I choked back tears.
.....
Several months later, at her funeral, I felt relief. I didn’t mourn for the woman that lay in the casket. I had been grieving in small amounts over the years, ever since we heard that her mind would be taken from us. The woman I had adored and who had loved me back with a love that was so huge that each of her 11 grandchildren presumed they were her favorite had been gone from me for a long time. This day was a formality and became the time we could acknowledge to one another, and those who had cared for her in her emptiness, what an incredible woman my Grandmother had been.
The first sign that something was out of sorts was the year I turned 27. I didn’t receive a birthday card from Grandma. She always prided herself on making certain that greetings arrived on the exact day of the birthday, not one day late, not two days early. She trusted the U.S. Postal System would do their job if she did hers. Grandma even enclosed a few dollars from her meager Social Security income with each card. That year there was nothing, not late, not early. I didn’t say anything to anyone, not wanting to sound greedy as if I were missing the money, but I did miss the sentiment.
Today, Grandma sat tilted to one side in a wheelchair. A scarf covered her wisps of hair that before, had always been concealed by a carefully groomed wig. Grandma was dressed in one of her usual polyester outfits, but now it was stained down the front where some of her lunch landed. Grandma smiled readily, but the smile didn’t go all of the way to her eyes – only a blankness looked back at me.
My Grandma always was a powerful force in my life. My earliest memories are of her alone. Grandpa died when I was two years old. Grandma chose, for reasons she never shared with me, to live the rest of her life without a spouse. She was alone, without marital companionship, but never lacked friends. The coffee pot percolated constantly at Grandma’s. She kept a stash of homemade caramel rolls or a cake in the kitchen ready to share with friends and family who dropped by throughout the day and sometimes far into the night. Mavis, the woman from across the street; Thelva, the Avon lady; Joyce, the neighborhood busybody – all left cigarette butts ringed with bright red and pink lipstick in the ashtray on Grandma’s coffee table as they gossiped far into the night.
I didn’t know that today would be the last time I saw Grandma communicate in a meaningful way. On the television, Lawrence Welk and his orchestra began to play the hymn, “In the Garden.” Grandma started humming the melody. Mom immediately picked up on Grandma’s interest and started singing the words. I was stunned to hear Grandma switch to harmony and begin to vocalize the lyrics. Even though she didn’t know my name or that she had just eaten chicken for lunch, Grandma knew all of the words to every verse of that song. I could not stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks when I heard my mom urging Grandma, “Sing, Mother, sing,” as Mom too, seemed to realize this was a significant moment. When the song ended, Grandma sank back into her blank stare.
Through the preceding few years, visits to Grandma’s house became less frequent. One trip, however, stands out in my memory. My aunts, mother, and I traveled to Minot to prepare a party for Grandma’s 80th birthday. Little and big, the changes we experienced upon walking through the door of her home were undeniable. The kitchen’s overwhelming stench smacked us in the face. A small amount of detective work brought me to one of the pantry shelves where Grandma had placed several cans of orange juice concentrate. Maybe she just had a “senior moment” and forgot, but Grandma’s kitchen never had crumbs on the counter or a dirty dish in the sink, reason told me.
Now, this afternoon, Grandma no longer recognized me, her granddaughter. I tried to remind her of what I thought we meant to one another. I introduced myself and even used the private, childish nickname that was just between the two of us. There was no light in her eyes -- I was just a nice lady who came to see her, gave her a kiss on the cheek, a gentle hug, and chattered for a while about things she didn’t seem to understand. My “I love you Grandma” and “good-bye” were muted as I choked back tears.
.....
Several months later, at her funeral, I felt relief. I didn’t mourn for the woman that lay in the casket. I had been grieving in small amounts over the years, ever since we heard that her mind would be taken from us. The woman I had adored and who had loved me back with a love that was so huge that each of her 11 grandchildren presumed they were her favorite had been gone from me for a long time. This day was a formality and became the time we could acknowledge to one another, and those who had cared for her in her emptiness, what an incredible woman my Grandmother had been.
11/10/2006
This week at our house
I need to rest. Our week was crazy.
To recap the "highlights":
Both girls are ill - one had the virus move up into her head to cause sinus problems, the other had hers move down into a cough. Developing.
My favorite husband and son spent Wednesday evening (and early Thursday morning) in the emergency department with hubby tortured by what turned out to be kidney stones. Where was I? Well, I had been in town with the kids at a church youth group meeting when my favorite husband called me to say his symptoms (extreme pain) had worsened. He actually considered coming home (WHY?!). Instead he chose to take our now-driving son with him so that he could be driven home safely. I took the car full of groceries and two sick girls home (I didn't want the girls to wait in the germ-filled emergency room when already ill). My night was spent pacing, cleaning, folding clothes and all sorts of other mindless pursuits until the men arrived at 2AM. Symptoms gone on Thursday, apparently the stone(s) had passed.
Last night I was shopping for a few items for the kids in the small town nearby when I got the call from home that the dog had been run over and they (the remainder of the family) were bringing him into the vet. Fortune smiled upon Hank as he only needed stitches on his head where he was cut quite badly. He was covered in dust (rocks imbedded into his collar as well) and had many abrasions on his legs. We don't know what he tangled with, but it was something mechanical and he was able to get home. $170 and two hours later (pain pills, antibiotics, suturing fee, etc.) we brought our dog home, thankful that the event was not as bad as it could have been (understatement).
I need to rest, but school, home, family, church duties all clamor for attention. I must remember Thanksgiving is coming and I am so blessed.
To recap the "highlights":
Both girls are ill - one had the virus move up into her head to cause sinus problems, the other had hers move down into a cough. Developing.
My favorite husband and son spent Wednesday evening (and early Thursday morning) in the emergency department with hubby tortured by what turned out to be kidney stones. Where was I? Well, I had been in town with the kids at a church youth group meeting when my favorite husband called me to say his symptoms (extreme pain) had worsened. He actually considered coming home (WHY?!). Instead he chose to take our now-driving son with him so that he could be driven home safely. I took the car full of groceries and two sick girls home (I didn't want the girls to wait in the germ-filled emergency room when already ill). My night was spent pacing, cleaning, folding clothes and all sorts of other mindless pursuits until the men arrived at 2AM. Symptoms gone on Thursday, apparently the stone(s) had passed.
Last night I was shopping for a few items for the kids in the small town nearby when I got the call from home that the dog had been run over and they (the remainder of the family) were bringing him into the vet. Fortune smiled upon Hank as he only needed stitches on his head where he was cut quite badly. He was covered in dust (rocks imbedded into his collar as well) and had many abrasions on his legs. We don't know what he tangled with, but it was something mechanical and he was able to get home. $170 and two hours later (pain pills, antibiotics, suturing fee, etc.) we brought our dog home, thankful that the event was not as bad as it could have been (understatement).
I need to rest, but school, home, family, church duties all clamor for attention. I must remember Thanksgiving is coming and I am so blessed.
10/20/2006
Refocus
I spent yesterday watching, and participating in, a public auction sale of many items from my great-aunt's estate. The weather was crisp and clear, the sun even peeked out from behind the clouds occasionally. A virtual army of helpers began at 7AM to get the remaining items out onto trailers to allow potential bidders the opportunity to examine the items prior to the start of the event at 10AM. There were many unique items, but a lot of just "stuff" that we all seem to accumulate.
These auctions are typically community events, with some coming from far and many from near. Oddly enough, some small, very unique and old items never made it into the auctioneer's hands - having been taken by someone who took advantage of the trusting nature of the event. Knowing that I may have been standing close to someone who would do this troubles me.
The bidding began with a trailer full of tools and other miscellaneous garage items. Short work was made of that trailer and we moved on to the many household items which were to be sold. I purchased a few special things, but the budget did not allow for several things that went far too high. A very unique item sold was a baseball autographed by Satchel Paige. My great uncle and his brother belonged to a community baseball league and saw Satchel Paige play in a nearby town. While at the game, they each had a baseball autographed by Paige. It was fun to see someone take away that piece of history. I did purchase a few boxes of books, some from the late 1800's. I would enjoy keeping a few, but would consider selling some. I'm not quite sure how to go about that appropriately. Research project for another day.
I'm processing what could be considered the indignity of seeing someone's goods spread out for strangers to paw through OR I could examine this as a chance to share with others some of the wonderful things my family members had accumulated over their lifetime(s). Is this a glass half-empty or half-full question?
A related, but different subject....
I have been doing a lot of reading about preserving family histories. My father's family information is held by one of my uncles. My mom's family information is dispersed throughout many family members in the generation prior to mine. I'm not sure at what point my generation will be entrusted with photos (or copies thereof) and their accompanying stories or the family heirlooms that may not be valued monetarily, but rather in the memories that accompany them. Maybe when I turn 50?! I just hope that someday there isn't a box of old, old black and white photographs being auctioned for $5 to a complete stranger (as I saw yesterday) who only values them for the uniqueness of the pictures, not for the stories and memories that could, or should, accompany each of them.
One more....
Standing in line at Target last Sunday, I observed an elderly lady struggling to use her debit card for payment. I admired the patience of the young clerk who was very kind and assisted this woman with using a previously unused card. I also was overwhelmed by the courage shown by the elderly woman who had grown up probably purchasing items for mere pennies with the actual coin clutched in her childish hand to learning something completely new like using a debit card. It doesn't sound difficult to most of us, but she is someone, a stranger, I really admired.
These auctions are typically community events, with some coming from far and many from near. Oddly enough, some small, very unique and old items never made it into the auctioneer's hands - having been taken by someone who took advantage of the trusting nature of the event. Knowing that I may have been standing close to someone who would do this troubles me.
The bidding began with a trailer full of tools and other miscellaneous garage items. Short work was made of that trailer and we moved on to the many household items which were to be sold. I purchased a few special things, but the budget did not allow for several things that went far too high. A very unique item sold was a baseball autographed by Satchel Paige. My great uncle and his brother belonged to a community baseball league and saw Satchel Paige play in a nearby town. While at the game, they each had a baseball autographed by Paige. It was fun to see someone take away that piece of history. I did purchase a few boxes of books, some from the late 1800's. I would enjoy keeping a few, but would consider selling some. I'm not quite sure how to go about that appropriately. Research project for another day.
I'm processing what could be considered the indignity of seeing someone's goods spread out for strangers to paw through OR I could examine this as a chance to share with others some of the wonderful things my family members had accumulated over their lifetime(s). Is this a glass half-empty or half-full question?
A related, but different subject....
I have been doing a lot of reading about preserving family histories. My father's family information is held by one of my uncles. My mom's family information is dispersed throughout many family members in the generation prior to mine. I'm not sure at what point my generation will be entrusted with photos (or copies thereof) and their accompanying stories or the family heirlooms that may not be valued monetarily, but rather in the memories that accompany them. Maybe when I turn 50?! I just hope that someday there isn't a box of old, old black and white photographs being auctioned for $5 to a complete stranger (as I saw yesterday) who only values them for the uniqueness of the pictures, not for the stories and memories that could, or should, accompany each of them.
One more....
Standing in line at Target last Sunday, I observed an elderly lady struggling to use her debit card for payment. I admired the patience of the young clerk who was very kind and assisted this woman with using a previously unused card. I also was overwhelmed by the courage shown by the elderly woman who had grown up probably purchasing items for mere pennies with the actual coin clutched in her childish hand to learning something completely new like using a debit card. It doesn't sound difficult to most of us, but she is someone, a stranger, I really admired.
10/10/2006
Here we are again
-The sheep and calves have left for their winter homes. The lack of rain this summer has left our pasture with less grass than previous years. We had hoped to allow a period of recovery for the grass during warmer weather, but snow/rain is predicted for Wednesday so the recovery will be a sum total of two days.
-The three kids enjoyed a great weekend with my aunt and uncle as tour guides in and around Bismarck. My parents also experienced two nights with three kids in their hotel room (all were in Bismarck for an event). Sights seen by the children included a personal tour of the capitol, the state historical museum, time at the Lewis and Clark interpretive center and much more. The kindness shown continues to be greatly appreciated.
-We mourn, with friends, the loss of a lovely 18 year old. While we did not know the young lady, we feel the anguish and deep grief of several of her family members.
-Enjoyed a brief visit from my favorite husband's brother and wife. We spent a delightful evening out to dinner in Fargo, celebrating the brother's 50th birthday. Our entire family was then honored to have them spend the night at our house.
-Speaking of students-School is going well. We have begun cat dissection in anatomy and physiology. Prior to calling the ASPCA, let me assure you that I did not supply the model; I am not at all comfortable with this event, but am pressing forward as this is a required part of my education - despite the smell of the preservative making me physically ill last week (note to self: eat lunch prior to lab today).
-SNOW, that 4-letter word, looms in the forecast for tomorrow. It was 80 degrees on Saturday.
-Spending time with friends in person or via e-mail continues to be a highlight of our week/day. Keep those cards, letters, e-mails, instant messages, etc. coming. This year we PLAN to send out Christmas/Holiday/End of December cards to you all (unless we have no idea where you live or have lost your address in the paper abyss or if we have been cut from your list because we have not sent such a greeting in x-can't recall-x number of years) in which we plan to include a...drumroll please....a family photo. The reason for the great excitement? In the last formal portrait of our family we had two children-the eldest was 4 and the youngest was still in diapers. Things have changed considerably since that time - gray hair, another child (not necessarily related), let's just say that time has marched on.
-Quilting. I just found a lady in church who excels in this art. Our #1 daughter hopes to pursue a 4H quilting project and I hope to tap this woman's expertise.
-Outsourcing is a hot topic in our house. We purchased a computer system from DELL, along with several YEARS of support. The printer has started to do some bizarre things - like splitting lines of text, skipping lines of text - basically making printing illegible. I telephoned DELL - and, of course, found myself talking to someone in INDIA who gave me his American name as "Sam." Sam spent an hour on the telephone with me, assuring himself that I was, indeed, presenting the problem accurately and had not reset any settings within a variety of programs which would somehow cause printing to suddenly go crazy. Sam then told me that he would consult with his supervisor and then call me back with the solution. We reviewed my time zone - CENTRAL - 7PM. Sam was advised that he could call up until 10:30PM. I made a point of staying off of our archaic dial-up connection wishing to have this resolved ASAP. No call. Off to bed. AT ONE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING (OK, it was 12:58AM) the telephone rang. "Hello Mrs. XX, this is Sam from Dell, prepared to walk you through the solution to your printer issue." "WHAT?" "DO YOU REALIZE IT IS ONE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING?" "I am so sorry Mrs. XX. Enjoy your rest and I will call you this evening." Keep in mind that this is not verbatim as I had been SLEEPING prior to hearing from SAM. Also note that this evening it will be one week since I heard from Sam-and the printer saga continues. There won't be a Christmas letter unless we can get it out of our computer. Ahh, outsourcing at its finest.
-Reading about McDonaldization. Interesting.
-The three kids enjoyed a great weekend with my aunt and uncle as tour guides in and around Bismarck. My parents also experienced two nights with three kids in their hotel room (all were in Bismarck for an event). Sights seen by the children included a personal tour of the capitol, the state historical museum, time at the Lewis and Clark interpretive center and much more. The kindness shown continues to be greatly appreciated.
-We mourn, with friends, the loss of a lovely 18 year old. While we did not know the young lady, we feel the anguish and deep grief of several of her family members.
-Enjoyed a brief visit from my favorite husband's brother and wife. We spent a delightful evening out to dinner in Fargo, celebrating the brother's 50th birthday. Our entire family was then honored to have them spend the night at our house.
-Speaking of students-School is going well. We have begun cat dissection in anatomy and physiology. Prior to calling the ASPCA, let me assure you that I did not supply the model; I am not at all comfortable with this event, but am pressing forward as this is a required part of my education - despite the smell of the preservative making me physically ill last week (note to self: eat lunch prior to lab today).
-SNOW, that 4-letter word, looms in the forecast for tomorrow. It was 80 degrees on Saturday.
-Spending time with friends in person or via e-mail continues to be a highlight of our week/day. Keep those cards, letters, e-mails, instant messages, etc. coming. This year we PLAN to send out Christmas/Holiday/End of December cards to you all (unless we have no idea where you live or have lost your address in the paper abyss or if we have been cut from your list because we have not sent such a greeting in x-can't recall-x number of years) in which we plan to include a...drumroll please....a family photo. The reason for the great excitement? In the last formal portrait of our family we had two children-the eldest was 4 and the youngest was still in diapers. Things have changed considerably since that time - gray hair, another child (not necessarily related), let's just say that time has marched on.
-Quilting. I just found a lady in church who excels in this art. Our #1 daughter hopes to pursue a 4H quilting project and I hope to tap this woman's expertise.
-Outsourcing is a hot topic in our house. We purchased a computer system from DELL, along with several YEARS of support. The printer has started to do some bizarre things - like splitting lines of text, skipping lines of text - basically making printing illegible. I telephoned DELL - and, of course, found myself talking to someone in INDIA who gave me his American name as "Sam." Sam spent an hour on the telephone with me, assuring himself that I was, indeed, presenting the problem accurately and had not reset any settings within a variety of programs which would somehow cause printing to suddenly go crazy. Sam then told me that he would consult with his supervisor and then call me back with the solution. We reviewed my time zone - CENTRAL - 7PM. Sam was advised that he could call up until 10:30PM. I made a point of staying off of our archaic dial-up connection wishing to have this resolved ASAP. No call. Off to bed. AT ONE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING (OK, it was 12:58AM) the telephone rang. "Hello Mrs. XX, this is Sam from Dell, prepared to walk you through the solution to your printer issue." "WHAT?" "DO YOU REALIZE IT IS ONE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING?" "I am so sorry Mrs. XX. Enjoy your rest and I will call you this evening." Keep in mind that this is not verbatim as I had been SLEEPING prior to hearing from SAM. Also note that this evening it will be one week since I heard from Sam-and the printer saga continues. There won't be a Christmas letter unless we can get it out of our computer. Ahh, outsourcing at its finest.
-Reading about McDonaldization. Interesting.
9/12/2006
Trying Again
Oh, to have put together a lovely post, detailin g our activities only to have it lost when our dial-up connection is severed. To recap:
The kids are great. School is underway - and all are excited about new books and activities. We found a piano teacher that seems to have great possibilities. She pointed out some deficiencies in our #1 daughter's piano education - the absence of scale practice is one. Easily corrected. #2 daughter had her first lesson and is quite excited. The Civil Air Patrol (CAP) Cadet program has been very good. #1 son was taken up flying - a front seat ride. He loved it and now has aspirations of a pilot's license.
17 lambs took a ride to "go away" somewhere. It is time - prices are up, we need the pasture to recover from having 50+ sheep on it.
My favorite husband and I are well. He continues to enjoy his position at work and is enjoying the crisp, late summer days. I am a bit weary after a controversy resulting in a long, late meeting last night with frustrating results. Too bad we can't just walk away, but the organization is our church. It is intriguing to me as to how some interpret Christianity - and apply the interpretation selectively. Moving is a possibility (what would I call the update at that point? Hmm, I have my pick of states). What are nurses being paid in your state? How does the cost of living look? Meanwhile, we plan to scale back our involvement to reduce frustration. We have missed traveling due to weekend commitments and hope to take that back up again. I hear the Badlands calling my name. School, however, is great. Thus far A&P's "A" is holding. Tests abound this week. One in speech on Friday, another in Cultural Anthropology on Thursday. A quiz on the pectoral girdle, upper appendages and spinal column today - 19/18 - missed one and got two extra points. Fun, fun.
The kids are great. School is underway - and all are excited about new books and activities. We found a piano teacher that seems to have great possibilities. She pointed out some deficiencies in our #1 daughter's piano education - the absence of scale practice is one. Easily corrected. #2 daughter had her first lesson and is quite excited. The Civil Air Patrol (CAP) Cadet program has been very good. #1 son was taken up flying - a front seat ride. He loved it and now has aspirations of a pilot's license.
17 lambs took a ride to "go away" somewhere. It is time - prices are up, we need the pasture to recover from having 50+ sheep on it.
My favorite husband and I are well. He continues to enjoy his position at work and is enjoying the crisp, late summer days. I am a bit weary after a controversy resulting in a long, late meeting last night with frustrating results. Too bad we can't just walk away, but the organization is our church. It is intriguing to me as to how some interpret Christianity - and apply the interpretation selectively. Moving is a possibility (what would I call the update at that point? Hmm, I have my pick of states). What are nurses being paid in your state? How does the cost of living look? Meanwhile, we plan to scale back our involvement to reduce frustration. We have missed traveling due to weekend commitments and hope to take that back up again. I hear the Badlands calling my name. School, however, is great. Thus far A&P's "A" is holding. Tests abound this week. One in speech on Friday, another in Cultural Anthropology on Thursday. A quiz on the pectoral girdle, upper appendages and spinal column today - 19/18 - missed one and got two extra points. Fun, fun.
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