Christmas Breakfast

Every year before Christmas Kathy, Leigh and I get together for breakfast and exchange gifts. I usually don't remember to bring my camera to capture the moment, but this time I did.



I tried to get the waitress to clear away the remaining dishes, but she either didn't hear my request or ignored it. So, sorry for the clutter in the foreground.

Hanging out

Friday was Al's birthday so we hung out at the house. He received several new video games for his birthday and Chantelle and I (and Lister) watched him play some of them. It was very low-key; Alex didn't even want a birthday cake.

Eat Pray Love

I rented the above movie last night as a digital rental on Netflix, via my Amazon account. I enjoyed it so much I am going to watch it again tonight, since the rental is for 48 hours.

Although you don't see Javier Bardem until the last part of the movie, it is well worth the wait. That is one HOT & SPICY Spaniard! And I am certain I am not the only woman who thinks so! I'd let him nearly run me over too, if it ended up for me as it did for Julia Roberts' character in the movie.

Eat Pray Love is a quintessential chick flick, a must see.

Update...Seattle, Thanksgiving week 2010

Boy, oh boy! It sure seems ages since I posted anything on here of any length.

I finally have a moment to put some of the photos on here from my trip. Actually, I did barely any site seeing because the weather was cold and it had snowed just before I had arrived there. Apparently, the Seattle area is not as equip to deal a snowstorm as well as their New York State counterparts. I was amazed on the ride to Keith's house how vehicles that had been involved in accidents or had slid off the road and were stuck were just LEFT there. We actually came upon a tractor trailer and a minivan which had side-swiped each other and were left on the road between the driving lane and the ramp we were entering the highway on. That is such a huge liability. You'd never find that on any major highway in New York. The state is too scared of being sewed over such things.

Consequently, most of the photos and video I'll post are family. Also, Debbie has the better pictures of our bit of sightseeing at Pike Place Market in downtown Seattle, since I had forgotten my camera. It is a famous fish market where the salespeople throw the fish selected by customers from in front of the merchants' display cases to their coworkers behind the cases, who in turn wrap the fish/seafood up for the customers. There was even one merchant who had customers come behind the cases to catch the fish themselves. I did not volunteer for that. However, I did get my picture taken while sitting on top of a large brass pig.

That was Wednesday, Nov. 24. On 11/26, Tracy, Debbie and I went out shopping to a town north of Seattle, named LaConner. I only snapped a couple of pictures there:


On the way to LaConner, we stopped briefly at this Harley Davidson dealership to pick up a tshirt for a coworker who collects them


I thought these birdhouses were cute, but I think they would have looked better painted different colors or decorated somehow. I wonder if the birds actually nest in them.


Debbie liked this sign. She likes to take pictures of unique signs and doorways when she travels. She forgot her camera that day so I took this for her.


My visit to Seattle occasioned the opportunity to reconnect with a nephew I had not seen in 24 years. In fact, the last time I had seen him was the day I had gotten married. He and his father (my brother Arthur) had come to see me get married. It was so great to see him again. He has a wonderful sense of humor and a sharp wit and we all laughed a great deal thanks to him. Here is Brett with the incomparable Nathan (aka the Nathanator) followed by a picture of Brett and his lovely wife, Xin, who is from China. They met on the internet. Their story is cute; they like to tell people that they got married the third time they met in person, which is true. However, their relationship had been going on for quite sometime by then, over the internet and by phone. They have been married about 5 years and only about 2 years ago was Xin finally permitted to come to the U.S. to live with him. She is a lovely woman and I'm glad she's joined the family.





On the evening before I had to leave Seattle, Keith, Tracy and the boys took me out to a fantastic Mexican restaurant named La Palmera. I'm glad I had the waiter take the picture before the margaritas came. Tracy and I had these awesome margaritas in huge goblets. I was feeling mighty fine after drinking that thing.



And as a nice ending to my time off, Chantelle and I decorated my Christmas tree the day after I got back.





It was a nice vacation. I needed the break with the then imminent layoffs at work that have now taken place. We are losing two dispatchers at our station. Thankfully, I have some seniority, so they didn't affect me. But I feel awful for those who have been.

12/19/10 Update: It seems that my computer does not recognize the video I uploaded to it from my camera. It gives me an error message saying it is missing a codec. Goodness only knows how long it will take me to figure out how to fix that. I love the versatility technology offers, but hate the quagmire of trying to fix something that isn't working correctly with it.

Little Visitors

It's always nice to get an unexpected visitor at work who brightens an otherwise ordinary day. I was blessed enough to have TWO visit me tonight at work. These handsome little fellas are Maguire (in my arms) and his big brother Curtis. They are my friends Brenda's and Marty's sons. Too bad the baby wanted to laugh at my face instead of toward the camera. :)

What WAS I thinking?

I found these little treasures while sifting through old work files. Now I know why I left them there so long.

Man, am I glad THOSE went out of style! I think I must have seen one too many episodes of the Sally Jessie Rafael Show. Too funny! At least I am not the only one looking like a geek for the sake of "fashion". hahaha.

February 1994. Albany, at the AcademyI think I am blinking, but you can't really tell with the glare from the lenses on my glasses. My friend Kathy is to my immediate right. (And, no, I was not a recipient of any Governor's Excelsior Award.)


Don't know when this was taken or why, but it had to be within a couple of years before or after the above one, since the glasses and the sweater are the same. I am thinking it was before, because I am thinner and don't have the weight I had gained from having Alex in it like I do in the top picture. Taken in Ray Brook. Gotta love the lettering on the building. It looks like something out of a Dudley Doright cartoon!

Anti DWI material

While taking a walk today, one of the streets I meandered down as Lafayette Street. There I came across the below Halloween decorations adorning a yard. I laughed out loud and thought it ought to be on a poster for some anti-dwi campaign. The whole front lawn had stuff on it like this with wine bottles strewn all over.

Is she to blame?

One of the pleasures one gets while reading literature or observing art, no matter what form it may take, is discovering themes that are presented with sufficient frequency as to make them obvious, yet, had lain unrecognized by the observer. To the observer/reader/listener, it is like discovering a vain of pure gold on their adventure through the work or among different works. I don't quite know how to express it; it is knowing something exists but "seeing" it for the first time when it has always been there. There are far too many of these possible themes to list, so I will concentrate on one, and the most recent, of my "discoveries".

Not least worthy among these themes is that of the woman who is driven to the extreme because of the influence of some man she loves, who fails to love her or who fails to live up to the love he professes for her. Doubtless it is that this theme has been material for investigation many times over, but I think it warrants another look still, albeit in the informal world of the my little blog. Certainly, I do not claim to be any "scholar". (Really, what is that but an agreement among certain participants to lay praise on each other's work, while only accepting others' views when it is convenient for them to include them? Also being well-informed in academic pursuits does not automatically make one well-informed across the board. And, no one, in my opinion, can claim any expertise in matters of the heart.) But a curious person can make observations, nonetheless, which require no certificate as proof of their ability to make them.

It struck me the other day that I had not given more than a passing thought to this theme, that, in reality stems directly from, and occurs repeatedly in, human experience. Really, what else can one do but draw from one's own experience? Imagination and fantasy can only go so far as human experience will allow. That is, the person may only imagine or fantasize something to the limit at which their human ability to do so will allow him/her, which, in turn, becomes an experience by the act of imagining or fantasizing, which from that point on is no longer unique. It matters not if others know of this process. We have no way to prove that others have not already imagined or fantasized the same concept, and thus experienced it, without the act of them sharing it outside of themselves. This is where art, in all mediums, serves a most useful purpose. Not all of us can experience what every other person on this planet does. So to understand an experience we have not had, we can live that experience vicariously through art. And if we have had the same experience as another, art gives us the space to gain a more objective view of our own situation when seen as the experience of SOMEONE ELSE'S life and not our own. I am certain to have read some scholar's work on this very idea. God only knows how many people had thought of it before me. But I have neither the skill, nor the inclination, to research who that(those) person(s) might be. I simply don't remember and don't care about it, except to the extent that the idea has merit (at least in my mind). Does the thinker of the idea matter more than the idea itself? Perhaps that is why I am no good at analyzing literature. There is a certain pompousness perpetuated in the process of regurgitating the names of predecesors who coined the words for some "novel" idea. And, at present, I see no merit it provides my life to participate in it. Maybe down the road I shall see things differently, that will all depend on the influences that sway my life and my perception of it up to any given point.

This brings me back to the point of this post. The experience of one's life is not achieved in a vacuum. Rather anything and everything that person encounters in his/her life has influence to a greater or lesser degree on that life. That that influence is positive or negative will depend on how that life is shaped thereafter.

There are countless examples I could use toward this point, but I will restrict myself to those of which I have most recently been reminded. Going through my materials from when the pursuit of my Master's degree meant something in my life, I found a well-known poem written by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz known as "Hombres necios", which I recall having previously posted on this blog, but do so again (along with a translation of it) for the ease of the reader and to support my point of this post.

Hombres necios que acusáis
a la mujer sin razón,
sin ver que sois la ocasión
de lo mismo que culpáis:

si con ansia sin igual
solicitáis su desdén,
¿por qué queréis que obren bien
si las incitáis al mal?

Combatís su resistencia,
y luego con gravedad
decís que fue liviandad
lo que hizo la diligencia.

Queréis con presunción necia
hallar a la que buscáis,
para pretendida, Tais,
y en la posesión, Lucrecia.

¿Qué humor puede ser más raro
que el que falta de consejo,
él mismo empaña el espejo
y siente que no esté claro?

Con el favor y el desdén
tenéis condición igual,
quejándoos, si os tratan mal,
burlándoos, si os quieren bien.

Opinión ninguna gana,
pues la que más se recata,
si no os admite, es ingrata
y si os admite, es liviana.

Siempre tan necios andáis
que con desigual nivel
a una culpáis por cruel
y a otra por fácil culpáis.

¿Pues cómo ha de estar templada
la que vuestro amor pretende,
si la que es ingrata ofende
y la que es fácil enfada?

Mas entre el enfado y pena
que vuestro gusto refiere,
bien haya la que no os quiere
y quejaos enhorabuena.

Dan vuestras amantes penas
a sus libertades alas,
y después de hacerlas malas
las queréis hallar muy buenas.

¿Cuál mayor culpa ha tenido
en una pasión errada,
la que cae de rogada
o el que ruega de caído?

¿O cuál es más de culpar,
aunque cualquiera mal haga:
la que peca por la paga
o el que paga por pecar?

Pues ¿para qué os espantáis
de la culpa que tenéis?
Queredlas cual las hacéis
o hacedlas cual las buscáis.

Dejad de solicitar
y después con más razón
acusaréis la afición
de la que os fuere a rogar.

Bien con muchas armas fundo
que lidia vuestra arrogancia,
pues en promesa e instancia
juntáis diablo, carne y mundo.

(Source: http://users.ipfw.edu/jehle/poesia/hombresn.htm)

You Foolish Men


You foolish men who lay
the guilt on women,
not seeing you're the cause
of the very thing you blame;

if you invite their disdain
with measureless desire
why wish they well behave
if you incite to ill.

You fight their stubbornness,
then, weightily,
you say it was their lightness
when it was your guile.

In all your crazy shows
you act just like a child
who plays the bogeyman
of which he's then afraid.

With foolish arrogance
you hope to find a Thais
in her you court, but a Lucretia
when you've possessed her.

What kind of mind is odder
than his who mists
a mirror and then complains
that it's not clear.

Their favour and disdain
you hold in equal state,
if they mistreat, you complain,
you mock if they treat you well.

No woman wins esteem of you:
the most modest is ungrateful
if she refuses to admit you;
yet if she does, she's loose.

You always are so foolish
your censure is unfair;
one you blame for cruelty
the other for being easy.

What must be her temper
who offends when she's
ungrateful and wearies
when compliant?

But with the anger and the grief
that your pleasure tells
good luck to her who doesn't love you
and you go on and complain.

Your lover's moans give wings
to women's liberty:
and having made them bad,
you want to find them good.

Who has embraced
the greater blame in passion?
She who, solicited, falls,
or he who, fallen, pleads?

Who is more to blame,
though either should do wrong?
She who sins for pay
or he who pays to sin?

Why be outraged at the guilt
that is of your own doing?
Have them as you make them
or make them what you will.

Leave off your wooing
and then, with greater cause,
you can blame the passion
of her who comes to court?

Patent is your arrogance
that fights with many weapons
since in promise and insistence
you join world, flesh and devil.

(Source: http://www.shearsman.com/pages/gallery/smith/11sorjuana.html)

The above translation is not the one I prefer; the one I prefer is in language more suited to the same time period in which the original was written and it rhymes, not modernized and without rhyme such as is this current translation. I cannot find the one I like better, at present. Basically, the poem "accuses men of the illogical behaviour that they criticize in women" (Encyclopaedia Britannica - www.britannica.com) and is a recurrent theme in art. I would venture to say it is probably more prevalent in works of literature, film and music than in most of the visual arts. I would think it a rather difficult theme to convey in such a medium, particularly in paintings or sculpture. Yet, it would not be impossible. Nonetheless, my few examples will show this theme's recurrence and, therefore, its pertinence to and influence on the life of the female human.

Of course, this pertinence and/or influence do not excuse the extreme acts that have occurred in the wake of any individual experiencing them. Certainly, though, the artistic vicarous experience can help to make others understand the mental and emotional state altered under them and how they might cause a breach of the threshold that typically is strong enough to hold back most individuals from committing acts of violence. Such an artistic example is found in the film "Last Tango in Paris", in which the young Jeanne is emotionally, mentally and physically coerced in an anonymous sexual relationship with Paul. He demonstrates a pattern of making her feel he has feelings for her, then contradicts himself in his words and actions. Even to the point of sodomizing her forcibly. (How is this movie considered a love movie? It is a movie of a psychotic man's control and manipulation over women...now THAT is SO loving.) In the end, she wants to disengage herself from the relationship and he will not let it go. He pursues her, chasing her through the streets and she realizes that this man will torment her endlessly if she does not escape from him and his influence on her completely. She ends up shooting and killing him in the end and can honestly disclose to the police that she does not know his name. Some would argue that she had no right to kill him. But would it have ended that he would have killed her eventually? It isn't until the end that you gain full understanding for the reason why his wife (Rosa) had committed suicide. She too was tormented by him, but rather than take his life she took her own, allowing him to continue his malevolent influence on another woman, Jeanne, who then ended the cycle by killing Paul. Regardless, both acts were extreme and neither woman saw a different way out than that which she chose.

Such scenarios are not mere art for art's sake, they are a reflection of the reality of human experience. Have not all of us read news reports of similar acts done by real women out of desperation to preserve their own lives and the lives of their children? Whether their acts are in anyway justified depends on whose perspective you see them from. Which of us would care to be relentlessly stalked by someone who we cannot be sure would not hurt us again, or even take our own life? Orders of protection are ineffective if a person truly wants to hurt the object of their obsession.

And, still, as long as men exert influence on women in personal relationships, this theme will be as endless in art as it is in real life. An even more contemporary example of this is a song sung by Celine Dion. It is a warning to men to treat women as ladies, so they won't provoke in them the kind of desperation that leads these women to go beyond that tenuous threshold of human restraint.



Here's a link to the lyrics
http://www.sing365.com/music/Lyric.nsf/Treat-Her-Like-A-Lady-lyrics-Celine-Dion/BD232DF3EA88939D48256864001F5787

It is clear the point Dion is making in this song. You can have a sane, well-adjusted female individual and push her to the extreme: "U'll make a good girl crazy / if you don't treat her like a lady". In this example, the extreme act is precipitated by the "good girl" being strung along and cheated on. Toying with a person's feelings and their mind is an emotional duress that some people, who might otherwise be passive, cannot endure and act on it in extreme. Let me clarify that the extreme act can be behavior other than violence. Silent treatments, verbal tirades, estrangements and divorce are all examples of extreme acts, in that, if the person in question felt that he/she was valued in the relationship and his/her thoughts and feelings were respected by the other person, it is likely that the former would not seek out the extreme act. What reason would one have to behave extremely if conditions were not present to precipitate such behavior, barring any true mental illness on that person's part? But these extremes happen every day, and so not all those who behave thus are mentally ill. The majority are not, but can be subject to conditions that put them in a positon of fight or flight. Each and every one of us is susceptible to this and, given the right circumstances, could be pushed to any of the extremes mentioned to this point.

Luckily the majority of extreme acts take the more passive forms, or else the two sexes would be systematically anihilating each other from the face of the planet. The planet's population growth shows this not to be the case, thankfully. But as long as there remain people on this planet, this theme of the lover driven to extremes is a drama that will play out in actuality and be rendered in the arts ad infinitum.

Battle of Plattsburgh

Today I walked in the Battle of Plattsburgh parade with the folks from Literacy Volunteers. As you can see, the group started out very small.



But later we had probably 15 people or more in our group. We handed out pencils with the Literavy Volunteers contact info on them to the kids and went through over a thousand pencils. I had another picture of the whole group, but I somehow accidentally erased it from my cell phone camera. What a shame! It was a good picture too! And next year I will be more prepared by remembering my camera, so I don't have to fumble with the one in my cell phone. Hindsight...

I had a few eventful moments there; I was greeted by a few people I knew along the route who made a point to get my attention. I also ran into this little fella. And people give ME weird looks when I stroll my cat in her stroller. Who knew you could stroll a rooster in a chicken wagon?



All in all, it was a fun event and I look forward to next year's parade.

Deja-doo-be-doo-be-vu

It is strange. I go through periods of my life, sometimes long, sometimes short, in which I find there is a particular song that plays frequently during that period. They aren't always one period after another. Sometimes there is a break between one and the next one. That break can also be long, or it can be short. I remember back in high school my boyfriend at the time had not long been moved away to Swasiland in Africa when the song Africa, by Toto, began playing on the radio. And, it seems, at times when I least expected it, simultaneously being moments when I missed him dearly (and had no expectation of him moving back to the Western hemisphere), the song would play and cheer me up.

Other songs reminded me of periods in my life too or of none. Sometimes songs would play that would have nothing but a tenuous connect to anything in my life. Some of the songs that fit into one category or the other were: You're The Inspiration (Chigago), Babe (Styx), Michelle (The Beatles) -- this of course, is a lifelong musical thread in my life. It used to be I couldn't stand the song. If I heard one more out-of-tune person, who fancied himself a comedian sing that song... If only I had imposed a tariff of a dollar payable at time of each infraction by all those would-be crooners out there who have chanced the oh-so-original replication of the famed: Michelle, ma bella... they never knew the rest of it. But one day, I actually paid closer attention to the song and fell in love with it! Continuing the list is Hello (Lionel Richie), I Will Remember You (Sara McLachlan and a multitude of other songs I was destined to have fade from my memory.

The lastest song in this innumerable list is the following:



YouTube wouldn't let me embed the original music video by Roxette (the embedding feature was disabled for that one), which is almost always my preferred version when posting videos, so I chose this one that some YouTube member made. It's pretty and goes well with the song. I must have heard this song no less than 10 times in the last couple of days, and on various radio stations, which is even stranger. And that is typically how the periods of song repetition begin.

Activity journal

This blog seems to have unintentionally morphed into a sort of activity journal on my way toward avoiding Type 2 diabetes.

I went out for a walk today. I figured that since I had to fill a prescription and that my pharmacy is Rite Aid up on Route 3, I would kill two birds with one stone if I walked to the pharmacy. I dropped of the prescription and didn't wait to have it filled. Instead, walked to KFC for lunch, mindful of doing my best to eat as healthy as possible there. I think I did pretty well, considering all the fat-saturated choices they have there.

After lunch I walked over to Aldi Food Market. I have not been in that store since before they moved into their new building, some time ago. I was very pleasantly to find that their produce there was really good looking. Better than Walmart's, which is notoriously and consistently unappetizing. Once in awhile you'll find some sort of decent produce, but more often than not you won't. Their meats are the same. The prices on the produce at Aldi were good too. The only drawback is bring cash only, because they don't take credit cards. At least, last I knew they didn't. I didn't ask. It looked like everyone was paying with cash. (You know, if I were a criminal, and wanted to rob some place for quick cash, that would be the place. Hope I don't have any criminals reading my blog.)

I bought some bananas and two tins of sardines. The bananas because I had gone their looking to get some fruit and the sardines because they had some packed in spring water, rather than oil or tomato sauce and the price was right.

On my way home I walked by the pond at the college and coming back up Beekman Street toward Bailey Avenue, I saw the view below.



Aren't they gorgeous? I captured the pic with my phone's camera. I didn't bring my camera with me, because I didn't think I would see anything I would want to take a picture of. I guess I was wrong. I will have to bring my camera with me each time so that I don't miss getting some good shots while I trapse around town.

Morning walk at Point Au Roche (in progress)

I was just about to step out of my apartment this morning, intending to take the cat for a stroll in her stroller while getting my exercise, and i received a surprise call from my brother Herb, who said he was up from Syracuse for the weekend and was staying with my sister Karen. He asked about my plans for the day and I told him I was about to go for a walk and, as it turns out, so was he with his partner Ken, my sister Karen and my brother Tim. So, instead of a not-so-exciting stroll around the neighborhood near my house I was glad to receive the invitation to walk with them up at Point au Roche State Park. It was a GORGEOUS day and a very pleasant time spent with loved ones. We enjoyed seeing some flora and fauna too. (pics still to be posted)

Tim, Karen, Ken and Herb

Ken took the picture here and I took his spot in the pose for the picture (oh, and let me not forget the trilobite fossil that Tim is holding and Karen found smiled for the picture too)


Ken and Herb


Me and my sis


This is the property of Camp Red Cloud. We used to have our station picnics here years ago.


We weren't the only species getting some exercise. There were 3 of these dogs, one stayed on shore while the other two swam after the stick their owner threw for them.


A pretty little cove


I like how well you can see the dragonfly in these next two pics.



Herb scoping some American Black ducks.


What a relaxing view!


Tim posing. Nah, he wasn't posing. I don't think he realized I was taking a picture of him just then.


This is a Touch-Me-Not plant


A Touch-Me-Not flower. Sorry the foreground is blurry. At least you can get a look at one in the bottom left of the picture though. I'm still experimenting with my new camera.


Trying to coax a Touch-Me-Not flower to open.

Tim said they only seem to open when touched earlier on in the season. It also seems to be a natural protectant/preventative against poison ivy, according to what what little I have read on it today. I could have used that a couple of weeks ago when I got poison ivy or something that acted like it from God only knows where, since I hadn't started walking regularly at that point.

The small pond where the Touch-Me-Not was found


A close-up. Pretty, huh?

The Fuzz's first stroll

I finally got around to putting the pet stroller together that I bought for Annabelle. It was very easy, no tools required. All in all, I think our first adventure together went very smoothly. In fact, when I first unzipped the compartment for her to get in and put her blanket in there she jumped right in. I had loaded her in the kitchen then carried her down my back stairs in the stroller and away we went. It is very lightweight and doesn't roll smoothly without her in it. But once in there, she evened out the weight distribution and it worked fine. I got some very odd looks from passers-by, but being considered different or odd was never something that ever concerned me much. I do what pleases me, whether others think it uncommon or not. I like whatever and whomever I like without basing my opinions on what others may like or may think. I figure that if others should find me a riveting topic of their conversation then they cannot possibly be talking about others at the very same time.

So regardless of others, I think my cat is damned cute in her stroller and it makes me know she is safe and able to enjoy some fresh air and sunshine (albeit in a limited fashion).

Unexpected

So yesterday when I went for my semi-annual checkup, at which my doctor reviews my bloodwork results (also semi-annually), he told me that I had all the factors present for pre-diabetes except a high blood pressure. I was certainly not expecting that to come out of his mouth. He told me about this program that the New York State Health Department and the YMCA have collaborated on to identify people in my position, who, if they do not change their diet and life style (in my case it being way too sedentary), are likely to end up among the 83% of people who proceed from pre-diabetes to Type 2 Diabetes. WHOA! Ok, that was sufficient enough information to scare me into action. Thus, this morning, at 6:45am, I stepped out my door for a 30-minute walk. I have to start somewhere, and now is better than later. Much better in this case.

Anyway, the program he recommended me for offers a free 16-week membership to the Y and you have to go to some group meeting once a week. They give you this start up kit with things like a pedometer and mearusign spoons and cups and several sample menus, etc. There are only 10 YMCA centers across the state currently implementing this program and Plattsburgh is one of them, only they only have 7 people (me being the 7th...lucky number, must be a sign..heh heh) and they want a minimum of 12 to begin the classes. Until then, I cannot just sit on my keester. Hence, the early rise and walk this a.m.

I had brought my Ipod along, of course, and was listening to the shuffled tunes...everything from Mozart to Rey Ruiz (Corazón arrepentido)to Heart to Stevie Wonder. The song of Stevie Wonder's that came on was
"All I Do", which I haven't heard in I cannot tell you how long, despite it being on my Ipod. I had the song in my mind all day, while my kids were in Vermont for one of Alex's orthodontist appointments, crossing the ferry, lunching at Chili's, and right after I woke of from the hour-long nap I so desperately needed after having gotten up at the near-crack of dawn. I decided I wanted to see the video of the song, but could not find the commercial music video for it on YouTube. However, what I did find was the unexpected gem of a video below of a concert he did in the UK during which he performed the song. The concert appears to be on DVD and is called Stevie Wonder: Live at Last - A Wonder Summer's Night. From the clips of it on YouTube, it looks to have been one wonderful concern. (Of course, pun intended.) Here's the video:



He's another person I would like to see in concert. Hmm, I wonder if he is doing or planning on doing any tours. I'll have to look into that.

Back to work today

Back to work today (UGH!), although I still have only limited use of my right hand. Isn't it gruesome? That was just before having the stitches removed. It has been well worth doing because now I have no more tingling and numbness in my hand. I just have to regain my strength in it with exercises and reduce the scar tissue formation with vitamin e cream massages. I can't wait until it's all healed.See More

I want this woman with me

if ever I get burglarized or robbed

check it out

http://news.yahoo.com/video/us-15749625/home-invasion-victim-saved-by-her-toes-21228984#video=21231198

Sorry I couldn't embed the video. So, you'll have to copy and paste the above address to get to it.

Good thing most criminals are dumb. Like the woman who recently shoplifted from a national-chain department store in the local area and drove away in her vehicle with it's plate personalized with her first name. DUH!

A visit with my nephew and family

Front row: Ella and Will. Back row: Kathy Martens (Art's mom), me, Loren, and Art












Art and Loren sent me home with produce from their garden and some canned tomtoes, canned pepper relish, and a jar of freshly made basil pesto (YUM!). Kathy gave me a jar of bread and butter pickles she had canned last year.

A real shoe-in for the perfect patient

Leave it to me to have funny things happen to at the most inopportune moments.

I showed up on time as instructed for 8am today for my carpal tunnel release surgery scheduled to begin at 9am. Shortly before 9, sitting in my designated pre-op room all dolled up in the ever-so-sexy hospital gown given me, I happened to look down at my feet with the most attention I had bothered to give them today and noticed I had on two different colored flipflops of the same style. I didn't even make an attempt to stifle my outbust of laughter because it was just so typically a Michele moment. Just then the doctor came in to mark my incision with the lovely, bright purple pen they keep strictly for that purpose and asked what I was laughing about. And when I showed her we both burst out laughing together. She then proceeded to tell me about her personal experience with wearing 2 different shoes at the same time. She told me that one morning she was trying on different shoes at home because she has plantar fasciitis (like me) and she was trying to decide which pair of shoes would least aggravate it that day. She got sidetracked and the next time she looked down at her feet that morning was upon entering the operating room to perform surgery on someone. As she is opening the OR door after scrubbing down, she burst out into laughter upon seeing her feet. She had on, not only 2 different colored shoes, but one was a Birkenstock sandal and the other one a flipflop. We burst out laughing again.

Now for the perfect patient part. While she performed the surgery she point out to the male nurse assisting her and the 2 other nurses in the room to look how my incision revealed a classic textbook case of carpal tunnel and that I was a calm patient (thankfully).

I give Dr. Pamela Reinhardt an A+++++++++++++ for excellent bedside manner.

(and me one for typing this with one had with my other one bandaged and throbbing)

Non-stop Sting

Beginning yesterday, in anticipation of seeing the one superstar I ever really care to meet, my apartment is filled with the sounds of Sting's music from the moment I get up until it's time for me to hit the hay.

I am SO thoroughly looking forward to this event. I hope that he plays all my favorites. There are so many of them, it will be hard for him to fail.

Here's a sampling of what I hope he plays

Drug-induced high

I think I am an addict. Is there a support group for people who get a thrill from teaching other people?

Back in February or March of this year, I sent an email to the chapter of Literacy Volunteers that is in the basement of Hawkins Hall, on the Plattsburgh State campus, telling them I wanted to be a volunteer.

Feeling rather like I had failed myself in taking (a much needed) break from my Master's program, I needed something to occupy my mind. I have to admit that I was naive about what being a volunteer in literary really involved. Yes the desire to help others and a sense of commitment were qualities needed, which I feel I possess. But what I didn't realize was the WOW-factor.

"What is the WOW-factor?" you might ask. It is my chosen title for the absolute THRILL you get when the person, or people you are teaching get that "Oh! I get it!" look in their eyes and sound in their voices.

My first dose of that and I became hooked.

Since the end of June, when I was assigned my first tutee, I have been getting regular "hits" off my newly-discovered drug of choice.

And I have discovered an "side-effect" (if you will) of my drug. You see, I never felt I lacked confidence in getting up in front of others, aside from the normal jitters most everyone gets, until I began my masters program at the University of Albany. Seemingly out of nowhere, I felt I lacked adequate knowledge and skill to get up in front of fellow Spanish-speaking students and professors. I knew I had had ample training to do it, but my confidence deflated like the Hindenberg when I started comparing my abilities to those of others. And until the day I decided I needed a break, it was still flailing about. Today, I got my first jolt of confidence back and it came as an aftershock of the WOW-factor.

Little does my tutee know what she is doing for me. I have explained it to her, but she cannot know the joy she gives me each time the light of recognition comes on for her and she truly grasps the material and it becomes her own.

People rarely know the effect they have on each other, and in many instances are too callous to care. The gift I received unknowingly from my tutee today, has re-opened my heart and mind to that almost-forgotten "Oh! I get it!" feeling I thought I lost. Humans can bring out the worst in each other, but we absolutely shine when we bring out our best. And in that instance, the plaintive words of Herbert Morrison take on a whole other meaning, a wonderful meaning: "Oh, the humanity!"

:) I'm back!!!

5/29/2010 in NC (in progress)

5/28/2010 in NC