Maybe I'm being oversensitive, because, you know, I *am* a woman!

Let me start by saying I'm not much of a feminist. Don't get me wrong. I totally benefit from the hard work of my feminist foremothers and I know it. And hell yes, I believe women are as capable as men and should share all the rights, responsibilities and benefits afforded to me. But I'm not actively fighting the fight. And I'm not the type who's looking for slights around every corner.

Let me also say that I'm not an enormous Hillary Clinton fan. I think she is capable and qualified for her job and I'm glad she's doing it, but I'm not all rah-rah Hillary Clinton or anything like that. I supported Obama over Clinton in our last election. But you already know that.

I make these disclaimers so that it's perfectly clear that I wasn't looking for a fight when I innocently happened across this story today. But POW!!! My previously unknown pro-Hillary feminist hackles were raised in a big way when I saw this video clip.

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Okay. MAYBE she could have reacted more diplomatically (being our head diplomat and all), but come on!!! Clinton didn't "misunderstand" the question. Sure, the question may have been mistranslated--or, as appears more likely--the student asking the question may have mispoken. But Clinton didn't MISUNDERSTAND it. And I've never heard a more clearly sexist question posed in public. Ever. So, I don't fault her for her testy reaction. Not one bit.

But the (female) news commentator pondering whether the cause of Clinton's outrage was jetlag, JEALOUSY, or (ACK) a bad hair day left me speechless.

Seriously?!? I'm glad the commentator's time ran out, or she very well might have gone on to speculate whether Clinton was grumpy because she was on the rag.

I feel so fortunate to have all the options that I have because better women than I fought the good fight and continue to do so. But, clearly, sexism lives on.

WOW!

And Now for Something Completely Different

Tonight in my yard I heard the STRANGEST sound coming from one of my trees. Really, if I didn't know better, I might have guessed that it was some kind of monkey being attacked by a rattlesnake. "Chica-chica-chica-chica EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-chica-chica-chica-chica" it screeched into the night.

What the hell?

Davy The Unflappable theorized it must be some kind of weird cicada.

HUH?

Cicadas are part of summer in Texas. Really, it's one of the clearest signs that the true summer heat has set in. First you get your June bugs, and then come the cicadas. As a kid, we used to do all sorts of weird things with the dried up skins they left on the trunks of the huge oak trees at summer camp and in our grandparents' lawns. They were great for scientific study, puppet shows, and terrorist attacks. I'm sure any child of Texas could make their own list of cicada skin activities.

And at night, the sound of their song would lull you to sleep.

But what I heard tonight? Honey, I KNOW cicadas, and that was NO cicada!

Only it turns out it WAS!!!!!! Check this out: http://texasento.net/Cicada.htm And make sure you scroll down and listen to the sound files. Because they're not kidding. One of over 40 different species of cicada in Texas (who knew?), it appears these guys have moved into Austin for the first time this year. They are NUTS! I hope you all get a chance to hear one, and I hope they don't scare the bejeebers out of you! I can tell you with relative certainty--if one of these guys ends up in your yard, he won't be lulling you gently to sleep!

Work Blahs

For me, one of the most difficult aspects of freelancing is getting started on a new project. It's hard to get back into the routine--especially if I haven't worked in a while. . Double especially if I have have to get started in the summer when my kids are home and I'd rather be hanging with them at the pool, or playing Blazer Tag, or, to be completely honest, folding laundry and watching Deadliest Catch. The problem is, if I haven't worked for a few weeks it's really hard for me to get back in the swing of things. But swing I must.

I've accepted two small projects that both launch this week. Neither one of them is especially lucrative, and I would have most definitely declined one of them in previous years. But the economy being what it is, and freelance writing jobs suddenly coming as infrequently as they are, I don't really have much choice in the matter.

So starting tomorrow, I have to force myself back in the routine. I'll be working in the mornings, while the girls do their best to fend for themselves in the other room. It's not ideal, but it's how we're going to have to do it. In the afternoons we'll still do the fun summer stuff.

The only real question is when am I supposed to have time to watch Deadliest Catch??

Bleh.

Nothin, really

This little blog got a record number of hits last week. Crazy!! The surge was clearly related to my Girls Rock Camp post, the link to which was apparently sent out to all the volunteers that made the camp happen. I didn't write the post thinking they would read it, but I'm glad they did. I think it's good for people to know they're appreciated.

So, not much going on here. My mother was in town all week. The girls had fun with their grandmother, and that was good. She's on her way back home right now, and Davy's ginormous family is on its way here from San Antonio. I'm cooking like a fool. Brisket's cooking, beans are simmering, potato salad is made, and queso's next up on my list. I've got a huge watermelon chilling with the beer. Now all I need is a nap (ha!) and a strong drink and I'll be all ready to entertain the in-laws.

This is the first 4th of July weekend in years that I'm not playing fireworks concerts in Bastrop and Round Rock, so I'm kind of reveling in the holiday-ness of it all. We may even head out to Bastrop to watch the fireworks tonight. I've played with my back to them for the last 15 years, so that should be a revelation!

Girl Power!

Zoe, my 9 year old, has been at Girls Rock Camp this week. This is her second year with this amazing program, and I just can't say enough good things about it. Unlike any other rock and roll camp program, Girls Rock Camp provides scholarships for about 50% of the girls that attend--which means that this program is empowering a truly diverse and talented group of girls.

During the course of the week, the girls take instrument classes, form bands, write a song, and prepare to perform their song at a showcase at the end of the camp. In addition, they have daily guest speakers on topics from how to market a band to the objectification of women in the music industry. They publish a "zine," create band "merch," and watch a lunchtime concert by a different local band each day. Some of the girls arrive with advanced skill on their instruments; others are absolute beginners who are playing an instrument for the first time. It's really amazing to see how much they can accomplish in the course of the week.

Besides the strength of the program itself, I think the aspect of this program that excites me the most is the incredibly diverse group of women who make the camp happen. What an amazing group of role models these women are. They are traditional and alternative, straight and gay, famous and unknown. They represent all ages, sizes, and colors. Some of them have conventional jobs; some of them not so much. Some of them make good money; others not so much. All of them are beautiful, strong, talented women who give up a week of their lives to empower young girls, to teach them what they know about music, and to share with them a little of what they know about life.

It's hard to explain why this is the thing that moves me the most, but I'll try. . . I can only be me for my daughters. I am one kind of woman who chose one path, and it just so happens that most of my wonderful female friends have ended up on the same path. So it's really cool for my girls to have strong female role models who have done things differently, who have made other choices and taken radically different paths, and who have happy, productive, fulfilling lives to show for it. I think it gives my girls a greater sense of the possibilities that are open to them.

Zoe has had a great week. She's excited about her band Randomness and about their song "Try." I can't wait to hear and see what they can do!

A Girl and Her Dog (cross-posted on facebook)

So, I've got this really, really talented friend (and I realize I could describe most of you that way, but this is about Laura!). She's a metalsmith. Seriously--a metalsmith--in 2009! She makes insanely cool jewelry, which you already know if you see me in person very often, because I almost always have something of hers on. Or perhaps I've given you one of her pieces as a gift. If so, you already know that Laura, known professionally as Metalsgirl, is amazing.

But there's another side to Laura. And that's the dog side. Laura is one of the co-founders of the dog rescue group Blue Dog Rescue. Over the years, Laura and her husband Tom have personally rescued, fostered, and found homes for countless dogs, including our very own Mr. Pink. But what happens when a dog they have rescued from certain death at the animal shelter *doesn't* find a perfect forever family? Well. . . if you were to visit Laura and Tom's home you'd know the answer. These lucky dogs end up living there. This wonderful couple shares their home with no fewer than 12 dogs (and 2 cats!) that, for some reason, could not be placed in another home. And, amazingly, it's not the chaos you might expect. In fact, the dogs are all very well-behaved, and the house is charming, cozy, clean, and (really, this boggles my mind) does not smell like dogs.

So, here's the thing. One of their pack, a completely deaf great Dane named Preacher that they adopted some 10 years ago has just been diagnosed with lymphoma. Laura has loaded up her website with all sorts of one-of-a-kind clearance items, and she's hoping that selling many of them will help them pay the costs of Preacher's chemo. . .

Take a look. Really, it's worth your time. Laura makes beautiful things, and you're bound to find something cool for yourself and a gift for someone special. Laura does really cool custom work, too.

Check it out!

www.metalsgirl.com

A Remarkable Gift

Zoe received a very special gift today. It was completely out of the blue, and from someone she doesn't see every day. Zoe's just about to leave 3rd grade. In fact, the last day of school is two days away. Today Ms. Markham, her phenomenal teacher from last year, who is retiring after 30 years of teaching, sent her away with a very heavy bag that she was not to open until she got home. As soon as she got in the door she reached into the bag and pulled out a note and an old, tattered, hard-back Webster's dictionary. In the note, Ms. Markham explained that she'd had this dictionary for over 40 years, and it had provided her endless hours of learning, but she had never had as much fun with it as she'd had looking up words with Zoe last year. So she wanted Zoe to have it, and learn from it, and love it as much as she had.

Zoe and I were both flabbergasted. I know this is a gift that she will always treasure.

If it weren't a complete breach of trust, I'd publish Zoe's thank-you note here. Suffice it to say I couldn't read it without crying. I know I'm completely biased and all, but she's an amazing kid--on her way to become an all-around spectacular full-grown person. A remarkable gift in her own right.

Can't Think of a Title

Tonight during dinner I received an interesting phone call. It was one of those robocalls that come during political campaigns. The recorded voice on the other end of the phone introduced herself as somebody Prejean--"you probably know me best as the woman who courageously spoke out in defense of marriage at the recent Miss America pageant."

Well, truth be told, I didn't know her best as anything, but I hung up as I realized 1) it was a recorded political call, and 2) I had no interest in listening to some goof ball tell me why my traditional marriage was somehow threatened by the possibility of gay marriage. Because, basically, I believe that's a load of horseshit. Energetically hanging up the phone led to an interesting conversation at the dinner table about why I hung up. And, happily, my daughters also found the idea that gay marriage somehow threatens traditional marriage, completely absurd. We had a fascinating conversation about being straight and being gay and who we know that is straight and who we know that is gay and who we know that might not open-minded about the whole issue. . . but I digress.

So after dinner I decided to do a little bit of research to find out what had happened, and what this Miss Prejean had actually said--because I did find it surprising that a Miss America contestant would choose the biggest pageant of her life to publicly air her political views. And the story I read is almost as absurd as Ms. Prejean's position.

If you, like me, totally missed the hubub, here's a summary. Celebrity (??) blogger Perez Hilton was a judge at the Miss America Pageant (WHY?), and he ASKED HER--as her pageant question--what she thought of gay marriage. So she answered the question. Based on her background and upbringing, she believed that marriage should be between a man and woman, and gay marriage is wrong. And Perez Hilton gets all bent out of shape and goes on the Today show and God knows where else, and says how completely inappropriate it was for her to ANSWER HIS QUESTION. What kind of bullshit is that?

So, here's the thing. I TOTALLY disagree with her. I reiterate, I DO NOT share her opinion. Not at all. BUT, what the hell was she supposed to do? Lie? Sure it might have been more diplomatic, but it wouldn't have been true. Hilton could have reacted publicly by saying he was sorry she felt that way, that he disagreed with her, whatever, whatever, whatever. But NO, he's up in arms because she answered his question and he didn't like it.

What a loser.

Anyway, now that I know a little bit more about what happened, I kind of want to know why her recorded voice was calling me. We've got local elections coming up this weekend, but they don't have anything to do with gay marriage. Heck, they barely have anything to do with party affiliations. What could the money behind that robocall possibly have wanted from me? If any of you get the call, try not to hang up until you figure out what they're calling for. I'm interested.. .

Nature or Nurture? Our house is almost better than a twin study.

Next week is "TV Turn-off Week" for our elementary school. Children and their parents are encouraged to sign a pledge not to watch any television or play any computer games for one week. We've done this every year since the girls started real school. It's a bit of a chore--not because my kids watch SO much tv, but because they do watch some. Not having it available requires us to think of other things to do--which is exactly the point. I don't mind doing it, but this year there's a new wrinkle at our house.

One child has opted out.

Child A (with enthusiasm): But, if you don't watch any tv all week, you get a ribbon!
Child B: (cynically): What am I going to do with another ribbon? Frame it? I'm watching tv.

So, I leave it to you, dear reader, to guess which child is which. Whoever guesses correctly might win a ribbon.

Last Year About This Time

Early in April of 2008, I posted this.

Well, this year it's Zoe's turn. Her artwork, entitled "The Beast of the African East" was selected for the AISD district-wide art show.

Wow!

AISD seems to love Czarnecki art.

I'll post a photo after I've actually *seen* the piece.

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.