A Couple of Photos from Poland I Need to Post Here in Order to Repost them Somewhere Else. . . Carry On!

Here are some photos from our trip to Poland. I had to post them here to be able to post them on another site for a photo contest on up-and-coming travel destinations. And get this. . . I WON! The prize was a cool little camera that essentially replaces the one Davy dropped down the stairs at the castle in the picture. Yay, me!

Here, for posterity, is my entry. . .

When we told friends we were heading to Poland for Christmas/New Years, we got all kinds of reactions. Nobody we know had ever been, which, truly, is a shame. Poland is a beautiful country. It has changed so much since I first visited in 1991, but the generosity and hospitality of the Polish people is unequaled!
This trip we visited the beautiful city of Gdansk, home of the shipyards that were the setting of the Solidarity movement. We found both the city and the surrounding countryside to be more beautiful than we ever expected.






And the food wasn't bad either!


My travel tip? When exchanging money, at least in Poland, you don't always have to accept the posted exchange rate. It's worthwhile to try and negotiate a better rate, or at least a waiver of fees. It doesn't always work, but sometimes it can save you a few bucks (or zloty, or whatever). And that's always good.

And another tip: Don't travel near the Baltic Sea in the dead of winter if you're going to be a sissy about the cold. If you do, pack plenty of wool socks and silk undkies. It's C O L D. But frankly, coming from the mild winters of Texas, a little bit of cold is exactly what we were looking for.

While this next photo is NOT representative of how much we enjoyed our trip, I'm posting it because it's one of my absolute favorites. We like to call it "Why the Czarneckis Left Poland in the First Place."

If you think all I talk about is my kids, you're probably right.

Mia, this morning, out of the blue: "If I were a Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I'd probably eat myself for the yummy goodness."

Happy Whatever!

Happy St. Patrick's Day to those of you who care about that kind of thing.

At our house we've skipped the green beer and boiled cabbage this year. Instead, we're celebrating New Hamster Day.

Today Zoe welcomed her new fancy Russian dwarf hamster to our home. Her name is George (because, really, a boy dog named Mr. Pink didn't confuse people enough). She is very sweet and playful, or at least she was at the store. Right now she's in a 24-hour-hands-off-so-she-doesn't-get-stressed-out-and-die acclimation period. The real fun starts tomorrow. I'll try to get a photo, because, as Sean says, "Without a photo, it didn't happen."

What do YOU think she's trying to tell me?

Here's a picture of Zoe's desk:

Now, let me zoom in on that post-it note for you:


Other clues to her subtle intentions. . . The two full-color stapled documents I discovered bound in a green folder on my desk last night: "Hamster Guide" (a summary of her research on the selection and care of a hamster) and "List of Possibilities for My Hamster" (a product and price list of all the various supplies and accessories the theoretical hamster would require.

What to do? What to do????

I'm Gonna Live Forever. Light Up the Sky Like a Flame!

Fame! It's been a recurring theme around my house lately. First, and somewhat randomly, it came up in my 14 Things list (or was it my appended 25 Things list?) on Facebook, when I wrote that I've never had any desire to be famous. I'm sticking by that, by the way, but we'll get back to that later. Next, it has been an ongoing topic with Mia, who definitely wants to be famous. For what? you might ask. And, being 7, she doesn't really have an answer. She just knows she wants to be famous.

Finally, it came up on the radio today. Listening to our local public radio station on the way home from the gym this morning, I heard John Aillei say something that baffled me and brought all my recent fame musings bubbling to the surface.

So, Aillei is talking about a cello performance that's taking place this weekend in Austin--and he mentions that the program will be made up of cello sonatas by Mendolssohn. And then he says something along the lines of "By the way. I heard a sad story about these cello sonatas. They're all dedicated to Mendolssohn's brother Paul, who played the cello. Of course, we all know Felix Mendolssohn's name, and his sister Fanny was somewhat famous as well, but nobody has ever heard of Paul." Then Aillei moves on to his next topic, and I'm thinking WAIT! What about Paul? Did he die a tragic death? Did he suffer from a wasting disease that made him unable to play the cello he so loved? What about the sad story? And then I GET it. That WAS the sad story. Paul Mendolssohn wasn't famous.

Now as many of you know, I have no great love for John Aillei. I don't often listen to him because I know his pretentious prickishness is bound to tick me off in one way or another. But what the hell? Do normal people really think it's "sad" that someone wasn't famous?

So what's the deal? Am I in a minority because I have no interest in fame? Am I missing some natural human drive? Or are we divided? Do some people have some base desire for fame and others don't? And why?

It's not that I don't want to be "known." I absolutely do have that drive. I want to the people around me to know me and to understand me. And when I'm dead and gone, I would like to be remembered by my friends and family. I've also had dreams of being a performer of some sort--but that was more about being really good at something and less about "fame."

But the thought of strangers recognizing me and talking about what I do and when and how I do it? The idea of people broadcasting details of my life to the whole world? Having to hear and read about the details of my mistakes and failures in newspapers and magazines? That all sounds truly awful to me. I honestly don't understand why anyone would want that.

But try to explaining that to a 7 year old. . .

And Because I'm Apparently in Touch with My 12-Year-Old Boy Side

This headline on MSNBC today amused the hell out of me.

How to know if the stimulus is working

Unfortunately, the actual story isn't nearly as funny. . .

Bored

I think I'm bored.

No, not this very minute. In general.

Maybe that's why everything I think I might write about strikes me as too boring to merit the cyberspace.

YAWN.

More later.

And While I'm Bragging About My Kids. . .

Last night Mia and I were out having dinner at her current favorite Panda Express (sigh). We were chatting about school, and she told me her second-grade class was working on fractions. "I can do ANY fraction," she said, clearly enthusiastic about her new skill. "Give me one!" I didn't know exactly what she wanted, so I asked what I needed to give her. "Well, if Ms. Waters [her teacher] tells me there's a circle divided into 4 sections and 2 of those sections are colored in, I can tell her it's two-fourths."

"Oh, I see," I said. "but do you know what else that is?" She thought about it for a few seconds, and then she gave up. "I don't know what you mean," she said.

So I picked up the paper plate in front of me and divided it into 4 sections with a pen. Then I shaded in two adjacent sections. "So, what's that?" I asked her. She smiled and answered immediately, "two-fourths." "Exactly, but what ELSE is it?" She looked at it for a minute, and then her face lit up. "Oh my gosh, it's one-half!" "Yep," I said. "And look what happens if I subdivide the four sections to make eight sections. Nothing changes. It's still one-half and it's still two-fourths, but what ELSE is it?" "Four-eighths!!!" says Mia.

And then she looked up at me, really excited, like we had just discovered electricity or something, and she asked, "Do you think Ms. Waters knows about this?"

I was mightily amused.

"Up in Smoke" or "Another Great Moment in Parenting"

Zoe has been working on a writing assignment for a while now. It has taken longer than it should have because we left the country in the middle of it and then it was forgotten. The assignment was to write a letter to an imaginary cousin from the Old Country either suggesting that they come to this country or not. To do it right, the kids had to put themselves in the character of a child of the early colonies over 200 years ago.

For some reason, this assignment really spoke to Zoe. She started out putting "-eth" on the end of all her verbs and taking a silly "old-fashioned" approach. But at some point she got pretty serious about it. She did a little research into the appropriate language of the time and corrected her draft accordingly. She found some manilla construction paper to use as parchment paper for her final draft. She painstakingly wrote her final draft in "old-fashioned-looking" cursive script, with curly-ques between the paragraphs. She brought her beautiful final draft for me to admire, and then said, "I don't think it looks old enough" as she crumpled it into a ball.

That's when I had my great idea. "We could burn the edges to make it look even older!" She loved it, and we got right to work over the kitchen sink. I started out small, singing a corner her, a hole there. But the third time I touched the lighter to the paper, I didn't blow the flame out quickly enough and things got out of hand. As the flame grew and started to race across the paper, I realized that I was burning up hours of my daughter's work. As I frantically blew at the growing flame and considered turning on the faucet to make it stop, I knew that she was going to have to redo the whole thing.

Aggggghhhh.

I finally put the fire out. The bottom left-hand eighth of the paper was gone. No getting it back. I looked at Zoe, knowing she was going to be furious. But she was grinning from ear to ear. "That looks GREAT!!!" she says. "So you're not mad?" "NOOOOO! It's COOL." I pointed out that you could no longer actually READ a good part of the letter, but she said she was going to present it as an artifact and she would read from her rough draft and say it was the version she decoded during her research.

Strange bird that she is, I've got an amazing kid.

Exactly!

Click HERE for more great behind-the-scenes inauguration photos from Newsweek.

Yes!

History

I can't watch anything about the upcoming inauguration of Barack Obama without dissolving into tears. I've never been prouder to be a citizen of the United States of America. I don't know whether or not Obama will be able to turn things around, and I fear that people's expectations for what he should be able to achieve may be unrealistically high. Nonetheless, the simple fact that this man will be our president speaks volumes about the potential of this country to improve itself.

I was talking to my girls this weekend about what a big, big deal this inauguration is, and I realized that there's no way they can possibly understand the enormity. And frankly, that makes me very happy.

It's Been Over a Month, I Know

I really *should* try to write something. Maybe tomorrow.

Thinking about buying a Dell? Well, good luck with that!

I've been trying to sort out a small problem with Dell, and really, their customer "service" is so bad, it's almost funny.

Davy's brother asked for a Dell gift card for Christmas. Easy, right?

I ordered it on Saturday, during an hour window when I placed 5 or 6 other online orders from other sites. Thursday evening I realized I hadn't received a shipping notification, although I had received notifications for everything else I bought from other vendors that day. Then I realized I never even gotten the order confirmation e-mail. So I started to question whether I'd even placed the order, so I checked my credit card, and sure enough, there's a charge.

So, I figure that maybe I entered my e-mail address incorrectly when I placed the order, and I try to call Dell to make sure the card has been shipped. And this is where the fun begins. . .

Dell customer "service" uses a system where your call is initially answered by a "reception" rep, to whom you explain your problem and they connect you to the correct person to deal with your problem. Unless you don't have an order number because you never got your confirmation e-mail. Then, apparently, the joke's on you.

Hahahahahaha.

In the event that you don't have an order number, and they don't understand your problem (which they are likely not to, as none of them seem to be native English speakers), and they connect you to the wrong department, you have to start over in the cue from the beginning.

Last night I spent 34 minutes on hold, being shuffled from one clueless person to another until I was finally transferred to a department that was closed.

This morning I called that department, which turned out to be (surprise) the WRONG department. So I was sent back to the customer care reception cue where I held for 15 minutes, was then transferred to a "supervisor" where the phone RANG (old school, ding-a-ling, no hold music) for 10 minutes and nobody ever answered. There was no way back to the system, so I had to hang up and start over.

Then I held for 21 minutes, during which I was connected to two more wrong departments (incentive sales and financial services) each of which sent me back to the cue.

I finally spoke to a person who sounded like she understood the problem, but she connected me to a department called "credit card services," where I held for 19 more minutes before I hung up.

My next call will be to my credit card company to cancel the charge.

And then I'll call my BIL and let him know that he definitely does NOT want a Dell.

As much as I love my Dell laptop, I can say with confidence that I will not be purchasing another Dell product.

Ever.

I can haz draw Pig

My pig

But why??

So, we've discussed plastic surgery before--here and --oh never mind. I won't link to the second instance because it disturbed so many of you. But, as you may or may not recall, I'm not a big fan of plastic surgery. I simply don't see the point of risking your life to look a little bit "better." And "better" is really quite relative, considering how screwy some people look when they're done.

With "risking your life" being my major sticking point, at least for argument's sake, you might guess that I wouldn't have a problem with the latest rage in cosmetic enhancement: post mortem plastic surgery.

Well, you'd be wrong.

Who is so damn vain that they need work done after they're dead? It's certainly not going to do anything for their self esteem.

Some Jokes Never Get Old!

From my favorite magazine, The Week (November 28, 2008 issue):

A British publisher translated Philogelos: The Laugh Addict, a 1,600-year-old joke book from ancient Greece. One gag that presages the Monty Python "Dead Parrot" sketch concerns a man who complains that the slave he just purchased has died. "By the gods," replies the seller, "when he was with me, he never did any such thing!

(I don't know why, but this amused the hell out of me!)

If, and ONLY if, the Sun Refused to Shine

Bah!

"Zeppelin" Considers Touring Sans Plant

Clearly, they're all senile, or they wouldn't even be considering the possibility.

On Second Thought

My venting done and friendly support received, it occurs to me there is nothing to be gained by leaving my previous post on the internet. God forbid the wrong person should come sliding down one of those internet tubes and discover it. . .

I will say that the simple act of writing the post, plus thinking about some of the questions posed in your comments, lead me to a personal discovery today. Don't know that it will change anything, considering that 40 years of cumulative damage has already been done, but I actually did end up with a bit of insight.

What do you know. . .

Next up--my letter from Jimmy Carter. I found it in that box too. I'm going to scan it and post it later.

It turns out that Jimmy and I are friends.

A Perfect Day in Austin

Today was perfection. Every single person I have seen or spoken to is in complete agreement--today is one of those days that makes you say "THIS is why I live in Austin, Texas!" Blue skies with a few fluffy white clouds, 75 degrees, and a comfortable breeze that periodically sent the fall leaves whispering through the air. A perfect day to be outside finishing up the girls' clubhouse. And it's all done. Even the checkerboard paver floor.

The girls say it came out even better than they expected. Zoe is trying to figure out how to build a bench and a table out of the wood scraps. She has a design, but I believe it's going to require a bit of adaptation to make it work--some brackets or something to keep the legs from spreading out and snapping off as soon as she sits on it. But that's a project for next week.

For now we're all pleasantly exhausted and looking forward to a quiet night at home.

In Austin.

How did we get this lucky?

Tardy!

I just got home from dropping the girls off at school--one hour late. When you take your kid in late these days, you have to sign a log and give the reason for tardiness, e.g., "doctor's appt," "overslept," whatever. Today my reason was "Up late witnessing history." The secretary looked at me a little askew and said, "Hmmmm. Well it's still unexcused."

That made me chuckle.

Yes We Can!

I think almost everyone I know voted early, but if you haven't yet, go do it.

Today's the day to make a choice. And for all the rhetoric and divisiveness that has marked this L O N G campaign season, I believe that either option is better than what we've had the last 8 years. As long as the election is DECISIVE, we come out better with a better leader than we have today.

Of course, my strong preference is well known. And although my vote will most definitely turn out to be meaningless in the state of Texas, I was happier to make it than I have been in any election since I turned 18.

Obamanos!

Economics Lesson

Apparently this is a quote that's making the rounds on Starbucks cups nationwide. It's certainly an interesting take on economics and puts the Republican "spreading the wealth" fear-mongering bullshit in perspective. The quote is attributed to noted economic expert and comedian Steve Martin.

If you’ve got a dollar and you spend twenty-nine cents on a loaf of bread, you’ve got seventy-one cents left. But if you’ve got seventeen grand and you spend twenty-nine cents on a loaf of bread, you’ve still got seventeen grand.

That spoke to me on a level I can't quite explain.

I'd write more, but I'm off to find a loaf of that twenty-nine cent bread!

In Case You Missed It

There are no words to express how badly I want this man to be our president.

Done!

In an Ironic Twist

I've done a bit of reading over at thatsrightnate.com (home of the crazy Obama flag blog post) and frankly I can't tell whether the guy is serious or not. Is it satire? Is it real? Is this a guy on the extreme right who also has a healthy sense of humor? Or is it a guy on the left posing as a guy on the extreme right to make a point?

I have read back through March of 2008, and frankly, I can't tell. There are posts of apparent conservative clarity, and then there are post that are so absurd that there's no way they're serious.

So, I just don't know. Perhaps, like the friend I wrote of in my previous post, my righteous indignation has been transformed to "doh!"

It was hard enough to discern the political fiction from political reality back in the old days. Now that we've added the Internet to the mix, we're playing a whole new game. And it's all making me wonder. . . How is my believing a story that fuels the idea that McCain followers are a bunch of ignorant Yahoos who don't know that states have their own flags any different from "them" believing that Obama is one step away from being a Muslim terrorist.

No Good Title Comes to Mind

A dear friend got pretty worked up about something this week. He was righteous. He was indignant. He was also a few years late to the party. It turns out that the story that got him all riled up was actually three years old, but it was being reported as if it were current. And all the details weren't exactly as as they had been reported. Fortunately, he's the kind of guy who can say "Doh! I guess I got all worked up over nothing."

But something similar has probably happened to most of us at some point during the past few months. We have access to so much information, and as much as we want to be good consumers of the information presented to us, sometimes it's hard to suss out what's true and what's not. And really, it's all part and parcel of what contentious elections like this one do to us. They amp us up. They stimulate our little brains to the point that we're able to see just about anything as a threat to our belief systems, our liberties, and our very way of life. Sometimes it's hard to examine our own reactions and make adjustments, but most of the people I hang with are able to admit when they've misinterpreted information or jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Mainly because they aren't ignorant fools.

Suffice it to say the guy described in the following blog excerpt is NOT one "of the people I hang with." He falls most decidedly into the category of "ignorant fools."

The Obama Potentate flag?
Frequent readers know source links are always supplied here, but in this case I will spare the quoted site author embarrassment.

In keeping with the theme of DemWit, described to your left, I submit the following post, pulled from a Web site, as proof, once more, that ignorance is the greatest enemy of America.

-BEGIN-
Now Obama Has His Own Flag–I Bet the Colors Run

This has really just gone way too far. At an Ohio campaign stop last week Obama gave a speech with a background of American flags which is quite common. However, if you look closely some of the flags are not American flags. The blue field has been changed to show an Obama seal. Yes, there are also stars but have no pattern and they do not add up to 50. Look at that disgusting thing flying with Old Glory.

I can’t believe that the mainstream media won’t report on this. Fortunately, we conservatives have radio. Stalwart reporter Bob Grant immediately called Obama out on the flag saying, “What is that flag that Obama has been standing in front of that looks like an American flag, but instead of having the field of 50 stars representing the 50 states there’s a circle. Would somebody please tell me what that is? Is that the O for Obama, is that what it is?…Did you notice that Obama is not content with having just several American flags, plain old American flags with 50 states represented by 50 stars…He had the flag painted over and the O for Obama. Now these things are symptomatic of a man who would like to be a potentate, a dictator.”

This is why Bob Grant is a great journalist and great reporter. He’s willing to call it like he sees it and not fall in line behind the Obama party line.

What’s really disgusting to me is while watching the least political of American political institutions–a college football game–I saw a state funded university during their halftime show form the Obama flag. This is beyond disgusting. This is an abuse of our tax dollars. If this was a private institution I could understand it, but this was the Ohio State Marching Band–Woody Hayes’ old school. This must not be tolerated. The phone number for the Ohio State University athletic department is (614) 292-7280. Call them and no (sic) that you do not want federally funded Universities engaging in such blatant politicing.
-END-

The above post, errors intact, had only one comment, and here it is:

“That’s the state flag of Ohio, you f***ing moron!”

Succinct.

God bless the USA!

Here's the link to the blog I've quoted above. And, just for fun,here's the link to the crazy flag guy's blog. The best part is the addendum this right-wing nutball apparently added after he had received a few comments:

UPDATE - A reader has just pointed out to me that Obama has also made a flag for campaigning in South Carolina that contains a palm tree and a crescent moon. I don’t think you can get much clearer evidence of his true motives. As for those of you who are saying it is the Ohio state flag–that doesn’t make it right. I don’t care if Obama makes flags for all 50 states–Old Glory is the only flag I need. When will this man stop? Will he be happy before all 50 states have their own flag? What happened to unity?

Gosh. Now I almost feel sorry for him. . .

link to image and explanation on yahoo!

So, I clearly haven't started my politics moratorium yet.

According to my fabulously informed friend Ann, early voting starts in Texas on 10/20. So I apparently have a few more days before I can eschew all things political. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, because I *do* need to figure out my judicial choices before I arrived in the voting booth. I also need to figure out where I stand on the various local props on the ballot. (Really, all these choices make democracy much harder than it needs to be.)

This is all leading up to the fact that I watched the damn debate last night. I didn't mean to. Really, I was intending to watch the finale of Project Runway, or maybe the new episode of 90210 (the new version) I have on my DVR. But noooooo, I got sucked in. And once again, McCain gave me the creepy-jeepies. He is NOT the same man he was 2-3 years ago. That is certain. Just in case he does get elected, I hope the "real" John McCain is the previous version. Because this slightly senile, smirky, eye-rolling, campaign-bot version of McCain scares the crap out of me.

There were several McCain low points in last night's performance, like when Obama called him on his complete lack of reaction when his supporters called Obama a terrorist or suggested he should be killed. McCain's tepid defense of his supporters as the "most patriotic people in this country" or whatever the hell he called them was pathetic and disingenuous. He *knows* that's crazy shit, and he needs to admit it.

But my favorite, favorite, favorite (and by "favorite" I mean "sneeringly condescending and, frankly, terrifying") McCain moment in last night's debate was this one.


Yes, Mr. McCain. You hit the nail right on the head. Those damn women and their "health." Who the hell do they think they are??

When does early voting start in Texas, anyway?

I just wrote a long post about how it was about damn time that McCain started setting things straight with his crazy-ass supporters. A year ago I had a healthy degree of respect for McCain, and I would have argued at that time that McCain had far too much integrity and honor to stand silent on a podium while his supporters called his opponent a terrorist or suggested he should be killed. But the last couple of weeks have proven me wrong. At least today McCain made an effort, whether it was staged or not, to set the record straight. I hope he's at least losing sleep over it, because he's bound to realize that his campaign is responsible for putting this shit out in the world--and he's going to have to live with himself if, god forbid, one of his crazy followers decides to do his moral duty and "save the world" from the evil Muslim terrorist-loving Arab, Obama.

Sigh.

But then I trashed that post because it was depressing and obvious.

Instead what I want to know is WHEN I can vote. Because I'm committed to getting it done at my earliest opportunity--and then I'm going to put my fingers in my ears and sing "la-la-la" at the top of my lungs for the rest of the month. I'm going to stop listening and reading and talking about this shit because it won't matter after I've cast my vote. I'm going to take all this time I've been spending online reading and watching and arguing about politics, and I'm going to work on training my dog to do fun tricks. I'm going to read easy fiction. I'm going to watch the last three episodes of season 1 of Flight of the Conchords. I'm going to ride my bike and jump rope. I'm going to cook huge pots of yummy soups. I'm even going to build a backyard clubhouse for my kids.

What I'm NOT going to do is waste any more time fretting over the unfathomable state of ignorance of my fellow countrymen (and countrywomen). I can't change it and I'm tired of bitching about it.

The end.

My name is Robyn and I am a blog plagiarist

Apparently these days all I can do is lift cool stuff from my friends and repost it on my blog. It's sad, I know. But some stuff is just too good to keep from you.

And so I post the following, which I lifted from my friend Jake's journal. Since most of you are children of the 80s, and since most of you don't know Jake and wouldn't have seen this posted on his journal, I felt like I had to share. This amused me. It also made me a little nostalgic.

An Open Request of You, My Friends

If I ever, for any inexplicable reason, find myself in the national spotlight, please, Please, PLEASE don't let me wink at television cameras. I don't care how good I look in my dominatrix suit and my 3-inch blood red heels, don't let me do it.

Just say no to the wink.

I mean it, doggone it.

Friends simply don't let friends wink on tv.

PTA: Sell Cookie Dough or Rule the World?

Today I'm copying a post verbatim from my friend Sean. To all my PTA-member friends out there--I think we might be settings our sights a little bit too low by focusing on gift-wrap sales and Arts and Culture Day. With our experience and talents, our future is apparently in the White House!

Sometimes you just cant make a joke any funnier.

Meeting Tuesday with the editorial board of The Des Moines Register, McCain was asked why he picked the Alaska governor, someone "who doesn't have a lot of experience."

"Thank you, but I disagree with your fundamental principal that she doesn't have the experience," McCain replied before citing Palin's work as a PTA member, city council member, mayor and governor. "You and I just have a fundamental disagreement, and I am so happy the American people seem to be siding with me."

Join the PTA... become the leader of the free world...

This isn't about HER capacity... it's about HIS judgement. How can ANYONE vote for a person who so obviously belongs in an institution.

Which Came First--the Totem or the Egg?

I've been looking for a nice dragonfly quote to go with the image I've started using as my avatar on a variety of different sites. I haven't found a quote yet, but what I have found is fascinating. I've always been drawn to dragonflies, but for no conscious reason other than I think they're cool. I love the way they look with their colorful bodies and delicate wings. I love the way they race around ponds and streams with the light reflecting off their gauzy wings, touching down and taking off again with no apparent objective or reason. Living in Central Texas, I also LOVE the fact that they eat mosquitoes, which are the bane of my existence a good portion of the year.

What I didn't know, however, was the role the dragonfly plays in Native American lore. The dragonfly is apparently a symbol of change. Some Native American belief systems view the dragonfly as a symbol of renewal after a time of great hardship. According to one source I read, dragonflies "remind us to take time to reconnect with our own strength, courage, and happiness."

Elsewhere I read that as the inhabitants of two realms--starting life in water and moving to air with maturity (but never venturing too far from the water), people who relate to the dragonfly have emotional and passionate early years, but achieve balance, mental clarity, and control as adults.

Hmmmmmm. I don't know much about totems, but the topic has come up recently on several occasions. I guess I assumed a person would seek out and choose their own totem. But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps the totem seeks you. . . Or me as the case may be. Either way, I don't have to think very hard to come up with ways dragonfly lore completely reflects my frame of mind over the past several months as I've struggled to reconcile my image of the fun, vibrant, unstoppable young woman I once was to the "balanced, mentaly clear, and controlled" woman I have become. (And thanks, dragonfly folklore, that sounds so much better than "old and boring.")

The upshot? Even though I don't know exactly which way it happened--whether I found it or it found me--I'm certain I've identified my totem. And I guess it doesn't matter how it came to be, because the one tattooed on my shoulder is clearly here to stay.

It's Too Bad Alzheimers Jokes Aren't Funny

So this is like the 17th time I've logged on to blogspot today KNOWING I had something I wanted to post, but completely forgetting before the page was actually up in front of me.

But THIS time I remember! And it's worth the wait, I tell you. Or then again, maybe it's not. Anyway. . .

The Austin Symphonic Band is preparing for one of our three yearly free performances at Zilker Park. This concert is scheduled for Sunday evening, October 5th, at 7:00. Here's a link to the ASB website with more information: http://www.asband.org/(Is it just me, or is that site getting uglier and uglier?)

I know some of you with children in band this year were planning on coming out to the Mother's Day concert last year, but it got rained out (I *think* it was Mother's Day that got rained out. Right?). Since it appears that it's never going to rain in Austin again, I think we just might be safe this time.

Suffice it to Say

In Austin, at least, Ike was not at all "the big one." Other than a nice breeze and a few sprinkles overnight, we got nothing. Which is good, I suppose, other than the fact that we really need the rain.

It looks like Galveston, Houston, Beaumont, and the surrounding areas may have gotten hit pretty hard. And apparently a lot of people who were told to evacuate the Galveston area didn't--and then were angered and disappointed when rescue workers couldn't help them during the storm.

That's the part I don't get. I mean, I can see deciding to wait it out, but it seems like you do it with the understanding that you don't get to ask other people to risk their lives to help you out if it's worse than you expected.

Maybe I'm missing something, but I think that part of the deal is pretty clear.

Still, I wish everyone in the storm-hit areas the very best.

The Big One

Hey Guys,
You may not hear from me for a while. I've got preparations to make. I need to get the windows boarded up, gas up the generator, and stock up on Spam and Coke. There's a hurricane coming. And it could be the big one. High schools are cancelling football games and one district even cancelled school on Friday. Hell, FEMA even set up a temporary service center here yesterday.

What? What's that you say? Yes, you're right. I DO live in Central Texas, which is, by any measure, a far piece from the Texas coast. And no, technically I don't think Ike is going to make it this far inland. But we could, potentially, get some tropical storm level winds and rain. And apparently, in this post-Katrina world, we MUST BE PREPARED. So the news stations are on full alert, and city and state officials are itching to prove that they won't be taken unawares. And from now until Saturday it's gonna to be all Ike, all the time.

So, here's MY prediction. Ike is going to take a sharp right turn, and nothing's going to happen in Austin. We, like always, will be right outside the storm. We'll get no rain, no wind, AND no UT football game.

But if you haven't heard from me by Monday, it's because I was wrong. The levy has broken and I'm trapped on my roof. Oh wait. We don't have levies. Doh. Why is this so confusing?

UPDATE: So, now LOTS of districts have cancelled school today and our schools are letting out early. But now I actually understand WHY. The districts have been asked to get their bus fleets of the major evacuation routes (I-35 and hwy 290) as early in the day as possible. Now THAT makes sense.

THIS is why!

This article from the Washington Post is a good example of what I love about Obama. Rather than battling one stupid sound byte with another--he actually fights back with substance. Apparently, this kind of response doesn't make headlines (has anyone seen an Obama story on the front page of the paper lately--ANYTHING?) because it's too boring. But I'll take boring, informed, and intelligent any day.

Forgive me for posting the whole article, but it's short and to the point so I think it's okay. Oh yeah, and it's my blog anyway, so I guess I can do it however I want to!!!

Obama to Palin: 'Don't Mock the Constitution'
By Peter Slevin
FARMINGTON HILLS, Mich. -- Sen. Barack Obama delivered an impassioned defense of the Constitution and the rights of terrorism suspects tonight, striking back at one of the biggest applause lines in Republican vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin's speech to the GOP convention.

It was in St. Paul last week that Palin drew raucous cheers when she delivered this put-down of Obama: "Al-Qaeda terrorists still plot to inflict catastrophic harm on America and he's worried that someone won't read them their rights."

Obama had a few problems with that.

"First of all, you don't even get to read them their rights until you catch 'em," Obama said here, drawing laughs from 1,500 supporters in a high school gymnasium. "They should spend more time trying to catch Osama bin Laden and we can worry about the next steps later."

If the plotters of the Sept. 11 attacks are in the government's sights, Obama went on, they should be targeted and killed.

"My position has always been clear: If you've got a terrorist, take him out," Obama said. "Anybody who was involved in 9/11, take 'em out."

But Obama, who taught constitutional law at the University of Chicago for more than a decade, said captured suspects deserve to file writs of habeus corpus.

Calling it "the foundation of Anglo-American law," he said the principle "says very simply: If the government grabs you, then you have the right to at least ask, 'Why was I grabbed?' And say, 'Maybe you've got the wrong person.'"

The safeguard is essential, Obama continued, "because we don't always have the right person."

"We don't always catch the right person," he said. "We may think it's Mohammed the terrorist, but it might be Mohammed the cab driver. You might think it's Barack the bomb-thrower, but it might be Barack the guy running for president."

Obama turned back to Palin's comment, although he said he was not sure whether Palin or Rudy Giuliani said it.

"The reason that you have this principle is not to be soft on terrorism. It's because that's who we are. That's what we're protecting," Obama said, his voice growing louder and the crowd rising to its feet to cheer. "Don't mock the Constitution. Don't make fun of it. Don't suggest that it's not American to abide by what the founding fathers set up. It's worked pretty well for over 200 years."

He finished with a dismissive comment about his opponents.

"These people."

link to actual article

Mucho Funny!

I don't know how long this has been around, but it's awfully funny. And not even remotely political.

Yay!

Enough with the "Sexy" Up-do Already

Sure, there's lots to be said about Sarah Palin, McCain's choice for running mate. And most of the irrelevant stuff has been said again and again over the past week.

But what I can't bear--the thing hat makes me want to SCREAM every time I see her, is that ridiculous hair. Did she like her prom style so much that she's decided to wear it every day since the big night? Is she being advised by a Playboy centerfold stylist? Because I swear, in the first Playboy I ever saw (yep, teenage girls check 'em out too--to figure out the ideal we're aiming for but will never quite measure up to), there was a whole sexy librarian spread that started with the mousy chick in a navy suit, nerdy glasses, and a prim but touseled up-do and ended with Ms. Prim and Proper, hair down and glasses discarded, spread out naked among the books in the reference section. Maybe Palin saw that one too (she's about the right age, isn't she?) and thought--yeah! That's the look I'm going for.

So, am I a hypocritical anti-feminist because I even care about her hair? Maybe. But I CAN'T STAND IT. And even Jenny, our visiting German teenager who has followed NONE of the media frenzy following Palin's nomination and has no stake in the election, saw her on tv and noticed something was amiss. "Why is McCain holding hands with a porn star at the Republican convention? That woman totally looks like a porn star."



It's the hair, I tell you. Well, and maybe the dominatrix suit and the pretend-I'm-smart glasses, and the makeup. But mostly it's the hair!

(Oh yeah, and her politics suck, too.)

So, I Spent the Morning Writing E-Mail

About noon today, I realized that I had spent much of my Sunday morning writing e-mail. My first reaction was dismay. What a waste of time, right? But then I thought about it a little bit more. I sent four messages this morning. They weren't quick questions and responses, work-related missives, or forwarded jokes (God forbid); they were actual letters, the old-fashioned kind--except for the fact that they were composed and sent electronically.

Once upon a time, spending a Sunday morning writing letters would have been seen as a very productive use of time. So why do I feel like such a lazy slob for doing it electronically?

I suppose it's all a matter of perception.

Seen On MSNBC

Bush to skip convention: White House says president, vice president will focus on hurricane.

That's some award-winning spin, ladies and gentlemen. Someone on the Bush train deserves a big fat promotion. Not only do they get to avoid the crushing truth that his presence wouldn't be doing the Republican Party any favors, but Bush gets another whack at appearing to be a competent leader during a crisis.

Somebody at the White House should be printing up some "Thanks, Gustav" t-shirts. . .

New Year in Poland!

It's official. We're leaving Austin on Christmas morning and arriving in Germany on the following day. We'll spend a couple of days in Germany, then fly with Michael's family to Gdansk, Poland, where we'll ring in 2009! After a couple more days in Poland, we'll return to Germany, spend a few days in my old stomping grounds in Hamburg, and maybe Cologne. Then it's back to the U.S. on 1/7. Theoretically, the girls have to be back in school on 1/6, but we get more trip for our buck if we keep them out the 2-3 extra days. I think they'll catch up. . .

Now we just have to figure out what we're doing with the dog!!!!!! I offered to fly out of Dallas and drop him off at my mom's house, but she passed on that opportunity. Can you imagine? I'm sure we'll come up with something between now and then!

I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. I haven't been in Europe since I left during the summer of 1991. It's been a long, long time!

Good fresh bread, here we come!

Somebody

Yesterday, as I was entertaining myself by listening to mix tapes given to me by cute boys way back when I myself was a cute young thing (and yes, I DO realize that I may very well be in the midst of a mid-life crisis), I happened across a song that I had completely forgotten about. When I was 17, maybe 18 years old, I absolutely adored the song Somebody by Depeche Mode. I used to listen to it over and over again, memorizing the words and (more often than not) crying as I wrote bad poetry and wondered if I would ever have somebody in my life who could live up to the "somebody" described in the song.

As I heard the opening notes on Adam's tape yesterday, I was immediately transported back to the late 1980s, and all the raw, hopeful emotion that that time represented for me came flooding back. Though I had neither thought of nor heard the song in at least 18 years, I remembered every single word.

And with tears streaming down my face as the song came to it's extrordinarily cheesy close, I realized I have EXACTLY what I hoped for all those years ago.

Which is to say--for all my complaining and carrying on, for all my worrying and wondering, for all my self-imposed anxiety and angst--I do know that I'm an EXTREMELY lucky woman.

And I'm grateful for that.

Thank You!

To those of you who noticed, listened, understood, and struggled to find the right things to say (you did a great job, by the way), I can hardly tell you how much I appreciate it. I don't crumble often. I'm glad you were there to help fit the pieces back together.

With Enormous Gratitude,
Humpty Robyn
(get it? like humpty dumpty? 'cause he fell off the wall and broke into a million pieces and. . . .oh never mind!)

Untitled

Periodically I wonder if it would be possible to reinvent myself. To make myself into the person I'd rather be. I'd like to keep the "good" stuff, but offload some of my less positive characteristics, like my desperate need to please others coupled with my feeling that nothing I do is enough. That's some serious shit that I NEED to unload.

While I'm at it, I'd like to get rid of whatever it is that makes me so physically lazy and replace it with the drive to challenge my body. How cool would it be if I actually thought exercise were fun? There are people like that, you know. Michael had to do something physical every day. If he didn't get some significant exercise each day, he got moody and sullen. He actually LIKED to go to the gym. He liked to work out and see the difference it made. I want to be that kind of person.

I'd also like to be more able to live in the moment, rather than always worrying about what's coming up next.

I'd like to be able to give up control and just let some things happen.

I'd like to be more open about my feelings and less worried about how others would perceive me if they knew how I felt.

I'd like to be able to ask for help. And to accept help when it's offered to me.

I'd like to be less easily irritated by people around me--family, friends, and strangers alike.

I'd just like to be better. . .

But then again, who wouldn't?

My Favorite Polish Cowboy

Here are the photos I promised of Michael in his western gear. Somehow, miraculously, he pulls the hat, belt buckle, and western shirt off, even with the Euro-jeans. And just so you know, he's not really a finger-gun kind of guy. I would have had to send the boy home had that been the case. The finger gun was simply a prop to make the whole outfit more convincing. . .

I actually sent Michael a cowboy hat when he was very small--maybe 5 years old? He says he had it for a long time. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of him wearing it. I think these make up for it though. He really couldn't have been THAT much cuter then.

Facebook Surprise!

The thing that makes Facebook so compelling for me is how people from the past sort of pop up unexpectedly. Since you use your real name, it's possible for people you haven't thought of in ages to find you and contact you. Plus, the way the facebook platform networks "friends," it's easy for friends of friends to identify you and contact you. Within hours of opening my facebook account, I had been contacted by several old friends from high school and college. The really cool thing is you can "catch up" with old aquaintances in a matter of minutes via private messages, and you don't even have to have the potentially awkward voice conversation.

So, a week or so ago I got an e-mail notification that someone was trying to add me as a friend. It was someone I knew pretty well in high school, but whom I had not thought about in years. I was thrilled to hear from this particular person and I approved the invitation. When I visited this person's profile, I was pleased to see that they had actually pursued a performance career, and had some impressive credits to their name--including short roles on Melrose Place and WestWing! Being me, I wanted to know more, so I checked out their name on IMDB and whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. It turns out they have a lot of film credits that they're not posting on their public profile. Films that most likely play late at night on Showtime.

Now, I'm not judging, and you know, it's the kind of job I'd never have even been offered. So, whatever. But that was some surprise.

And, just for fun, I'm thinking about subscribing to Showtime. Or then again, maybe not. . .

Mentally Defective

The City crew showed up this morning with much busting and digging equipment to repair the bad sewer line that caused our flood a few weeks ago. When I got home from the airport, 5 guys were standing shoulder deep in an enormous hole in my neighbor's side yard. I thought the bad piece of pipe was under the street, but it turns out it's in the neighbor's yard. She's going to be, ummm, surprised when she gets home from work today. I suppose I need to leave a note or something on her door so she at least knows what's going on.

But that's not exactly what this post is about.

So I get home from the airport, spend a few minutes staring down into the giant hole, chat a little bit with the crew about what they're doing and what happens next, observe the big piece of sewage pipe they just cut out of the ground that is now laying on my driveway, and go about my business.

Fifteen minutes later a wet, sudsy man appears at my door. Turns out it may not have been the best time to start a load of laundry.

See Robyn's Heart Split in Two

I just got back from the airport. I seems like I was just there! My three-week visit with Michael went faster than I could have imagined, and I was very, very sad to drop him off at the airport today. I honestly didn't know what to expect from this visit, but it went better than I could have hoped. Yes, there were some blips along the way--mainly in integrating the schedules of visiting 18/19 year olds with my 7/8 year olds. But the rough spots were short and minor. Mainly, I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to get to know my godson as a young adult. It's funny how strong our connection is, considering we didn't really know each other (knowing him as an infant may or may not have anything to do with this), but I think it's going to be harder to be half a world apart now that we do know one another. He's a spectacular young man with great things ahead of him. I sincerely hope that these three weeks weren't all the time we get together.

We were so busy most of the time he was here that many of you never got to meet him. So, here's a photo of my adorable godbaby, Michael, taken by our simultaneously-visiting teenage German friend, Jenny. At least this is what Michael looked like shortly after he arrived in Austin. I'll post another picture of the Polish cowboy (outfitted in his new cowboy hat, western belt and buckle, and western shirt) as soon as I can get it uploaded. It's worth the wait, I promise you.

Blazer Tag!!!!

In response to the threat of rain (which NEVER came), we took the whole gang to play Blazer Tag today. It's probably one of the few activities I can think of that is fun and satsifying for middle-aged adults, teenagers, and young kids alike. Unfortunately, it's silly expensive (It cost $51 for the six of us to play one 20-minute game, and of course, we had so much fun that we had to play again. OUCH!), so it's not something we'll be doing often. But today it was just right.

The peace-loving German girl was the highest ranked player in our group for both games--and, I think, ranked #4 in one of the games overall. It turns out, she's a bit of a sniper, which might oughta concern me a bit, I suppose. The insanely competitive young Polish man came in second among the six of us, followed by Davy, and Zoe. Mia and I vied consistently for last. Lucky for both of us, there were two very young children (maybe 4 or 5?) competing against us. And while I started out with a strong moral aversion to shooting the little children, I soon realized that I was going to have to tag them or risk coming in dead last. It turns out I'm pretty bad at laser tag and I had to take the sucker shot to survive.

It was fun, different, and it gave most of us a pretty decent workout. Although the three-story arena is well air-conditioned, I came out in a full, adrenaline-fueled sweat after both games.

$(*&^#@&^%^%$ Teenagers

(And that's all I have to say about that.)

Strangely Melancholy

Sometimes I feel like I need a break--from the self-imposed pressures of being a good mother, a good wife, a good daughter, a good frend, and all the other things I feel like I have to be. Sometimes I just want to be me--the me I used to be when I was responsible for myself and nobody else. That me had fun. That me did interesting things. That me was less likely to be pissed off at any given moment. That me got a lot more joy out of life, I think.

Having my godson here has been wonderful. He's a beautiful young man with a gentle soul, and I'm so happy for the opportunity to really get to know him. But in a strange way, he's also a link to everything I used to be. Since I haven't seen him in 17 years, his being here has brought up an endless stream of old memories. It turns out I really miss the young woman I was when he was born. I'd like to know her again.

Welcome to the International House of Czarnecki (IHOCz)

Jenny arrives from Germany at 11:49 tonight.

Michael arrives from Poland at 11:52 tomorrow night.

Let the fun begin!!!!

And Then. . .

The sewer backed up into the guest bathroom at 10:30 last night. Essentially, my entire bath-full of water drained down from upstairs, and finding no place to escape, bubbled up from the bottom of the guestroom toilet. When I came down from my bath, I had one inch of warm bath water standing on the bathroom floor--and seeping out under the brand new wood floor in the hallway.

Plumbers are on the way to figure out what happened.

Flooring guys are on the way to see how far the water went and hopefully save part of the floor.

Uggggh.

Sooooo Frustrating

What follows is a record of my correspondence with the security department at my ISP this afternoon. This exchange took place a day after I realized that I was not receiving statement notifications from my credit card provider, and,therefore had not paid my bill since MAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Luckily for me, the credit card customer service folks took my long and excellent payment history into account and took pity on me, reversing over $200 in late fees and interest charges. However, as you will read, I have not been able to solve the problem that caused this to happen. So, back to paper statements for me. Environment be damned.

Message 1: Me to ISP security department
I've just gotten off the phone with someone at the [ISP] national help desk. He was not able to help me with my problem and suggested that I e-mail this address. Sooooo, here goes.

Recently I have stopped receiving e-mail from at least two addresses I am aware of. One of the addresses is my credit card company, who tells me that my two most recent electronic statement notifications have bounced back to them. I've received electronic statement notifications from [credit card company] for well over a year, and I have not changed my software or updated my security settings on my computer lately, so I can't understand why e-mails from them would no longer be getting to me. The last message I received from [credit card company] (NOT my statement notification) was on 6/19.

I have also apparently stopped receiving e-mails from [other organization]. I received an e-mail from this address as recently as 7/8/08, but more recently they haven't been getting through. I have no idea if they're bouncing back to the sender or disappearing.

What I DO know:
None of these messages ended up in my Anti-Spam folder or my Deleted Items folder, so the problem must be happening before the are downloading to my computer.

The [ISP] helpdesk guy had me check my webmail settings, and I do not have it set to block messages. There are messages going automatically into a junkmail folder at webmail, but as far as I can tell, they are all flagrant spam (pharmaceutical stuff, etc.).

My usage stats are fine. When we checked, this account had 0% usage, so a full mailbox on the server shouldn't be the problem.

PLEASE HELP ME. These are just the two addresses I KNOW I'm not getting mail from. I'm not even sure how to figure out if there are others. This is not acceptable--especially since it resulted in a late payment on my credit card account.

Message 2: ISP security department to me
Unfortunately, [ISP] cannot act on your request at this time because you have not supplied enough information regarding your problem. Any blocks that might be in place focus on servers and networks used to send mail, not the email address of the sender.

We invite ##BLOCKED_PARTY to direct his/her attention to the following
websites, where he/she will be able to request removal of the
affected mail server from our block list, if appropriate: [redacted]

Alternatively, he/she may reply to this message and include any error
messages received (this address refuses mail from no one, regardless of
their sending server's block status) and we will investigate the matter
further.

Thank you.

Message 3: Me to ISP security department
Now I'm getting truly frustrated.

I have NO IDEA what other information I need to supply. I'm a customer--not
the helpdesk. I was speechless when the helpdesk guy told me *I* would have to
*e-mail* another department because he couldn't help me. And now, that other
department can't act on my request because I have not supplied enough
information?

I did the best I could to describe the problem as I see it. I need somebody
to HELP ME!!!!!

Message 4: ISP security department to me
If we are blocking [credit card company], we are the department that can help.
However, as the previous message states, we need them to supply any
error messages they are receiving directly to us from them. Without
their error messages and IP's (obtained from the headers when they e-
mail us directly) we are unable to troubleshoot this issue properly.

Thank You

Message 5: Exasperated Me to ISP security department (I don't suppose I'll get a response)
Thanks for your quick reply.

I just got off the phone with tech support at [credit card company]. The guy I talked to said they are routinely blocked by major internet service providers because of the number of notifications they send out at one time. Unfortunately, while it was noted in my account that e-mail to my address had bounced back,
there is apparently no record of the specific error message they received.
So I seem to be flat out of luck. The [credit card company] tech support guys swears
you guys can fix it with just the sender's address. You tell me you can't.
and I'm just the helpless customer in the middle who is screwed because I
can't get my e-mail. . .

Although, frankly, I can't imagine why a company like [credit card company] would be
blocked. That's silly. It's not like [credit card company] is trying to trick people into buying penis enlargements or diplomas. It really irks me that the system
will block real mail from reputable senders,and yet I continue to receive countless offers to meet hot Christian single women from my neighborhood. Something is not right.

I cannot tell you how frustrated I am right now. But maybe you can sense it.

Hmmmmm. Can't figure out why there are hard returns at the end of the lines. Maybe because I copied and pasted from e-mail? Maybe I should call blogger tech support and get some help with that. Because me and tech support--we're like peanut butter and jelly. (*&^&^%$_@#@#*(@&^($*&@^$&^%*&^%

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

Do you like Joss Whedon? How about Nathan Fillion?

Do think Neil Patrick Harris should rule the world?

If you answered yes to any of those questions, or even if you did not, you MUST, MUST, MUST watch this.

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

But here's the thing. You only have until Sunday, July 20th, to watch it for free. After that it will be available for download for a nominal fee. Then, sometime later, it will be available as a DVD. Here's Whedon's explanation of his master plan for the project. Very entertaining!

I'm a Bonehead

For being relatively smart on paper, I can be pretty stupid in real life. . .

When we got home from vacation yesterday, I noticed something strange floating around in the hummingbird feeder. Closer inspection revealed that the feeder had been competely taken over by enormous red ants. I mean LOTS of BIG, FAT other-worldly critters, the likes of which I've never actually seen in my yard. Most of them were dead, but some of them were still wiggling around. So, smart cookie that I am, I took the top off the feeder and put it out on a bush in the hot sun to boil those nasty critters.

Heheheheh.

Now I have a writhing mass of bees and wasps on a bush beside my front walkway. Nobody can get in or out my front door without dodging the bees.

Oops.

Home.

Tired.

Sandy.

Satisfied.

If you asked my girls right now, they would probably tell you that one of the worst things about vacation is that sometimes we make them eat ice cream for breakfast.

Two Happy Kids and a Dog

I know. Enough with the dog pics already. It would be different if I could take a decent picture (like my friend Ann. Dang, her new dog shots are award-worthy), but I don't have the patience for it.

Nonetheless, these make me smile.

Out of the Mouth of My Babe

Last night Davy, Zoe, Mia and I were all suffering from some strange insomnia. At about 11:30 we all ended up cuddled up in my big bed talking. Ever since the girls were small we've done something we call "thankfuls" where we take turns telling what we're each thankful for. Sometimes our thankfuls are deep and meaningful, but more often they are pretty shallow and reflective of what has happened on a given day.

As you can imagine, the new dog is a current source of thankfulness among my girls. And so during Mia's turn, she said she was thankful for Mr. Pink. And Jade (the cat).
When I asked if she was thankful for Felix, her fish, she answered, "I guess I am, but he's not so much a pet as a decoration we have to feed."

Truer words are rarely spoken.

Dog Update

I know you're all waiting with baited breath (Mr. Pink sure is!) to find out how things are progressing between the dog and the cat at our house. I'm happy to report that things are definitely looking up. As soon as I realized that the cat's problem was that she was too terrified to get down the hall to her litter box and made the box more accessible to her hiding place, that problem was solved.

Now, I'm not saying our house is a feline/canine lovefest or anything, but it's tenable and getting better all the time. The cat actually spent a few hours downstairs yesterday, which is a huge change from the previous week. So, we e-mailed the folks at Blue Dog yesterday to let them know that we were 100% committed to being Pink's "forever family" (sorry for the preciousness, folks, but that's what they call it.)

We're now waiting for the adoption to be finalized.

Yay!

Well, that was . . . Interesting

The Austin Symphonic Band traditionally plays the 4th of July fireworks show in Round Rock. It's been rained out the past two years, so last night was our first Round Rock performance in some time. And it was a doozy!

Rather than the sticky, hot, still, uncomfortable weather we're used to on July 4th, last night was actually pleasant. There was a strong, cool breeze that made things unexpectedly comfortable for the audience. For the band, though, it was another matter entirely.

First, the Round Rock sound guys failed to bring wind guards for the microphones. So when we played, the mikes picked up the wind--which sounded like continunous thunder, or maybe a fighter jet circling about 20 feet overhead. But it turns out that might have been a good thing. Because with the conducter directing with one hand and holding his score down with the other, and with players' music blowing away at regular intervals if it wasn't clipped to the stand, and the STANDS blowing over if the music WAS clipped down, it was an interesting performance, to say the very least.

The good news is the fireworks ended just right during the final strain of Stars and Stripes, and when that happens, nobody remembers the rest of the music. So in the end, it was all good.

AND, we get another go tonight at Bastrop. To save our dignity, if nothing else.

But, man, that was some performance.

My Cat is Not Pleased

The new-dog-to-existing-cat introductions have not gone as smoothly as we had hoped they might. The first night seemed too good to be true. Jade (feline) and Mr. Pink (canine) met face to face, did some sniffing, and that was that. Mr. Pink proceeded into his crate to sleep, and Jade slept about 2 feet away.

Hooray, right?

Well, no.

Because the next day Mr. Pink chased Jade through the entire house exactly one time. And Jade spent the next 24 hours in Davy's closet. Emerging only to pee on our bed.

Shit.

I mean piss.

The vet believes all is not lost. I hope she's right. But remember the part where I felt that it was too good to be true? Well, duh!

Just Playing Around with an Idea

Most of you know all about Sister--the sweet, old, too big, neurotic doggy Davy and I had for years--since long before the girls came to be. You also know that she died about a year and a half ago. And it was kind of a relief. Because as much as we loved her, she had gotten old and tired, and she couldn't really muster up the energy to do anything other than bark every time the doorbell rang (which grew quite tiresome).

But being as she was around before the girls were born, Zoe and Mia grew up with a dog in the house. And while Davy and I may have quietly celebrated being relieved of the responsibilities that go along with geriatric dog ownership, the same cannot be said of our children. The "Can we get a puppy?" chorus began very shortly after a very brief period of mourning. And until very recently, the answer had remained a firm "No!" Well, the answer to "Can we get a puppy?" is still no, but we're actually considering adopting a young dog.

Behold, Mr. Pink:


On paper, he looks like a perfect dog for us: 2 years old, 17 pounds, playful and easy going. And, well, he's got an awesome name! Theoretically he's good with kids and cats, but we'll have to meet him and see.

I'll keep you posted!

Vanna, I'd like to buy W T and F, please.

This was brought to my attention by the ever-vigilant Sean. Apparently, the Associated Press wants to charge bloggers for quoting excerpts from AP stories of five words or more. AND, if you pay for the "license" to quote more than 5 words, but they don't LIKE how you use the experpt, they want to be able to revoke the license.

How can they do this? Can a media company actually make up new rules regarding how open media is used? And enforce them? For real???

For some reason I can't get my head around this at all!

A Cry For Help

It occurred to me today that there are really cool things to do around here that I've never done simply because (and this is hard to admit) I don't know how and I'm too lazy to find out.

For example, I understand that there are great places to hike along the greenbelt, but I've never done it because I don't know which areas are safe. I don't know where to get in. Where to park. Which trail to take to get to where. You get the picture.

I've walked around Town Lake maybe 5 times in the 18 years I've lived in Austin. Why only 5 times? Because I'm never quite sure where to park. I don't know which way to go once I'm in. I don't know where to cross over if I just want to walk for an hour (as opposed to circling the whole damn lake, which, I'm relatively certain, would take three days.

I've never been to Hamilton Pool and it's been years since I've been to any of the lakeside beaches. I don't know where they are and I'm too lame to figure it out.

I don't go to many festivals downtown or to free concerts at auditorium shores because I'm overwhelmed by the idea of not knowing where to park my car.

Do you see a pattern? It turns out, and I'm honestly just figuring this out, I don't try new things because I think it's going to be too complicated--not the actual activity, but the coordination of the little details that lead up to the activity. How lame is that? The funny thing is it's completely different when I'm traveling. Give me a public transportation map in strange city and I'm ready to roll. But somehow, at home, it's easier to do the same old things that I know how do do, than to leave my comfort zone to try something new.

Sooooo--here's where you come in, my friend. If there's something you do in Austin that I OUGHT to be doing, tell me about it. In fact, I'd appreciate it if, just once, you'd take me under your wing and show me the ropes. Or you can tell me where to freakin' park and I'll take it from there. I promise I'm a quick learner. I won't follow you around for the rest of your days. I'm just tired of inertia. This town is full of possibilities. I just need to get off my ass and TRY some of them.

Democracy Revitalized!

Or at least the Democratic Party? I'll be fascinated to see how things go from here.

Obama Claims Democratic Nomination

Democracy Fatigue

Honestly, I don't remember when I've ever found democracy so exhausting. How many time have we been to the polls this year? Primaries, primary run-offs, local elections, bond elections, and now this.

Early Voting Begins. . . AGAIN

You've got to be kidding me. Another election? Holy hanging chads, this democracy thing is wearing me out. I guess there IS an alternative, though. I could take our commander in chief's approach to democracy (thanks, Jake, for bringing this to my attention):

"Kick ass! If somebody tries to stop the march to democracy, we will seek them out and kill them! We must be tougher than hell! This Vietnam stuff, this is not even close. It is a mind-set. We can't send that message. It's an excuse to prepare us for withdrawal."

"There is a series of moments and this is one of them. Our will is being tested, but we are resolute. We have a better way. Stay strong! Stay the course! Kill them! Be confident! Prevail! We are going to wipe them out! We are not blinking!"

George W. Bush

Killing in the name of democracy certainly sounds like more fun than all these silly elections, no?

Untitled, by Mia Cz

Am I Raising the Aesop of the Modern Age?

You be the judge. . .

Once upon a time there lived a pig. He was a fat one. Because he loved to eat slop. "I am tired of slop!" he said. I want to try something new like BUGS! Then a CLEVER butterfly flu over head. Would you like to have lunch with me? Shur! I'd love to. Just come to the the table. What are we haveing? Butterfly! A fly with butter? Or Me? You'll see.

Editor's note: I'm not sure what makes this butterfly so "clever" (especially in all caps). I may have to check with the author and add a footnote.

Somebody at Whole Foods Is Having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

A Sports Post? WTF?

Mark your calendars, folks. Today is the day hell reaches 32*F (which must be why it's do damn hot up here). For I am about to post about sports.

What could have possibly inspired this shocking leap out of my don't-give-a-rat's-ass-about-sports comfort zone?

It's the Spurs, my friends. Well, technically, it's the fact that over the past two days I've either read or heard no fewer than four separate sports analysts or columnists, the most recent on this morning's Morning Edition, opining on why the Spurs are such an unpopular team. You see, living in Austin, with two pretty serious Spurs fans in my home, and being admittedly quite ignorant regarding all things sporty, I had no idea that the Spurs weren't universally loved. I guess I assumed, based on their record and demeanor, that they were like the Dallas Cowboys of basketball or something. But it turns out that's not the case. It turns out, in fact, that people hate them.

So, why are the Spurs so disliked among American sports fans? You might assume it's because they continue to kick everyone else's butts, despite the fact that they're so old (I guess basketball counts in dog years or something). But that's not it! According to the experts (Or at least the sports media--are they experts? I really don't know how this works.), people don't like the Spurs because they're not flashy enough. Because they don't get in trouble off the court. Because they treat basketball like a job and they go to work and do their jobs well. Because they behave like good sports on and off the court. Because the players get along and don't air their disagreements in the media. Because there's no Rodman or Kobe or Shaq to simultaneously rile up and engage the sympathy of the masses.

Essentially what these people are saying is that Americans don't like the Spurs because they seem to be decent people who do their jobs well and choose not to make public asses of themselves.

Shit, that makes them my favorite team regardless of their record. And regardless of the fact that I don't have favorite sports teams. . .

Here ends my one and only sports post.

Grrrrr. Flooring Update

Well yesterday started off with a bang. The work crew arrived early and immediately set to work moving furniture, ripping out carpet, removing tack-strip, and demolishing the tile facade around the fireplace. They hauled it all away and even got started laying the wood in my office.

Today started off well, too. One (out of three) guy arrived at the agreed upon time and started working. He soon finished the office--and that's when things screeched to a halt. Guy Number Two was out picking up the quarter-round, so Guy Number One couldn't move ahead. Then Guy Number Two finally got here and they cut the quarter-round for the room. Then, suddenly, they had to go back to the store. Both of them. That took forever, during which time I could not leave the house because they hadn't taken a key. The finally reappeared, slapped on some floaty cementy looking stuff to smooth the ripped up dryway around the fireplace, and then, lo, it was lunchtime.

They've been gone for a long time now. Long enough for me to go to the bank, go to Target, have lunch, get home, and stew for a while.

NOTHING is happening today. On top of that, I haven't gotten shit for work done and now I have to go to school for a volunteer appreciation shindig of some sort.

I'm annoyed. Can you tell?

Dread vs. Reality

You know how when you're really dreading something, it generally turns out that you end up expending more energy worrying about the event in question than on the dreaded event itself?

Well, this isn't one of those times.

We're having some work done on our house tomorrow (smelly dog carpets OUT, lovely wood floors IN) and while the work crew is going to *move* our furniture, we have to empty it of its breakable and/or heavy contents. I'm talking about the china cabinet in the dining room, the entertainment center and bookcases in the den, and worst of all, the bookcases, desks, hutches, and filing cabinets in our office.

So we started a couple of hours ago. The china cabinet was a piece of cake. The stuff in the den wasn't too bad, either. But the office is going to kill me. This room is PACKED with crap. I started to itemize it for you, but I had to stop and delete the list because it's just so demoralizing.

Those of you who have been in my house--does it strike you as being full of crap and clutter? Until today, I didn't think so. I thought we were doing okay. I was WRONG. WE HAVE TOO MUCH STUFF.

This day sucks.

(Oh yeah. And Davy's sick in bed. And the girls are determined to "help" me by washing my car.)

AGHGHGHGHGHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh.

Help! I think PETA may be after me!

You may or may not know about Felix. Felix is a betta fish who has lived with us for so long, none of us can remember exactly how long we've had him. We *think* he's about three years old, which is probably something like 314 in $1 pet-store fish years. He lives happily (it seems) in a large cylindrical vase (stolen from Sara's wedding centerpiece--thanks, Sara) on the bar between the living room and the kitchen.

Somehow, during the time our German friend Jenny was living with us last year, Jenny and Felix really bonded--maybe because she fed him everyday (we, um, sometimes forget). And unbelievable as it may sound, it seemed that Felix started to recognize Jenny. He would swim up to meet her (and only her) each time she walked by his bowl. We were all a bit concerned about Felix when Jenny left us last June. Would he notice? Would his little fishy heart break? Would he die of starvation when the rest of us forgot to feed him?

Well, none of that happened. Surprisingly, Felix is still with us, and although he isn't as spry as he used to be, he seems to be hale and healthy.

So, when Jenny turned 18 last week (Happy Birthday!) a betta seemed like a perfect gift, but not one that seemed practical to ship overseas. I enlisted a friend of hers to do the local footwork for me, and on Friday, the installation was completed. Anna had procured a lovely bowl, some fish gravel, a live plant, some food, and a lovely blue betta for Jenny. She named him "Mr. Maroo" after the mascot at Austin High School. And mother and little fish seem to be doing swimmingly.

Only Mr. Maroo doesn't seem to like his food that much. So today Jenny visited her local fish store to see what her options are. And the fish store guy told her that keeping a betta fish in a bowl (as opposed to an aquarium) is illegal in Switzerland*. WTF? Why would that be? What am I missing? Just think about the grocery bags--that took me 18 years to understand. What if I'm torturing Felix and I don't even know it?

*Incidentally, I know I said Jenny was German and then went on to write about the legalities of betta ownership in Switzerland. She lives on the border. It's complicated. . .

Well, hell!

Unfortunately, due to a scheduling conflict by the City of Austin, the Austin Symphonic Band's Mother's Day concert at Zilker Park has been cancelled. And somebody owes the ASB a huge apology.

Dinner Guests

Last night, as part of teacher appreciation week, we had Mia's teacher and her two sons over for dinner. The boys are younger than my girls (2 and 4), so Zoe and Mia were given the task of entertaining them and keeping them out of trouble. At some point, Zoe took 4-year-old Esai out back to teach him how to make crowns out of vines and flowers. I overheard her explaining to him, "I know it's not a very boy thing to do, but it will come in handy when you're in high school and you go on a picnic with a girl."

It makes me wonder where she's getting her information!

Mia, for her part, showed the 2 year old how to play darts.

Sigh.

Because I'm So Green

Way back when I was living in Germany, some 18-20 years ago (yikes!), I was stunned by the fact that grocery stores made customers pay for plastic bags. It wasn't much--something like 5 Pfennig per bag, but it baffled this consumer-driven American. I simply couldn't believe that the bags cost the stores enough that passing their cost directly down to the consumer was worth the loss in "customer good will" or whatever we call it.

I didn't get it.

Pie-eyed and liberal as I was, I didn't understand that it wasn't about profit. It was about environmental responsibility. The stores were charging for the bags to deter customers from using them unless they absolutely had to (duh!). Most shoppers brought their own bags and baskets to carry their items home.

I guess it took a couple of years for the concept to sink in, but I'm proud to report that today I did a whole week's worth of grocery shopping and did not use a single plastic bag. I've been shopping with reusable bags for some time now, but the produce has been my sticking point. I've long stuck the produce label to directly to a bunch of bananas or an individual watermelon, but I was still using the store-provided plastic bags for bulk items like green beans, or for multiple items, like 5 apples. But that all changed today when I used my reusable cotton produce bags for the first time. The checker at my HEB had never seen them before, which kind of surprised me. For, although Circle C/Legend Oaks is certainly NOT central Austin and my HEB, fancy as it is, is no Whole Foods, lots of people here do use reusable bags. I'm surprised to be one of the first to find the produce bags.

Anyway, I walked out of HEB today feeling quite virtuous. Until I climbed into my minivan and turned the key. . . Baby steps, right?

In honor of my impressive green-ness, I offer you the following link, which was brought to my attention by the ever fabulous Jake.

Green Porn by Isabella Rossellini

This is absolutely worth watching.

Ignore this post

I have to post some blurry pictures here so someone can help me figure out what I'm doing wrong. The rest of you can go about your business (unless you know why my candid, group, indoor, far-away photos are all coming out blurry with my new camera--in which case feel free to speak up).

Now, carry on. . .

The Artist and Her Work

You might remember this post from a couple of weeks ago about Mia's artwork earning a space in the district-wide art show downtown. Well, we went, and it was interesting and fun. It was pretty cool to see that much student art in one space--as well as many of the artists (most of whom were far more interested in rolling down the grassy hill outside than viewing the art inside). I finally got around to uploading the images from my camera, and for those of you who weren't able to make the show, I am proud to present to you. . . Mia and her Pink Flower: