Pseudo's Spot

Parents who get in the way of their kids' learning

2012-01-23T20:50:00.000-08:00

This is a cheat of a post as I did not write it but received it in my email from a teacher friend who I used to work with, but she moved back to Seattle. It's probably gone viral as I am usually the last to get things.

I did, however, really think this piece was spot on with the issue.

Problem parents are only a small percent of the total parental package. However, the pain in the ass enabling and dysfunctional ones are ruining it for the rest of you. Because things have changed so much since we all were kids and schools are so afraid of getting sued that they cave to the worst of the parents and set horrible precedents. Even when they do not cave, they do next to nothing to let the parents know what is unacceptable behavior.

I once sat with friends having drinks and gave them a few anecdotal stories and they were blown away at how much time I spend dealing with unhelpful parents. Or parents who think I should run my classes to their specifications without regard to the other 29 kids in the class and what those kids' parents expectations were.

Anyways, here it is....

This summer, I met a principal who was recently named as the administrator of the year in her state. She was loved and adored by all, but she told me she was leaving the profession.

I screamed, "You can't leave us," and she quite bluntly replied, "Look, if I get an offer to lead a school system of orphans, I will be all over it, but I just can't deal with parents anymore; they are killing us."

Unfortunately, this sentiment seems to be becoming more and more prevalent. Today, new teachers remain in our profession an average of just 4.5 years, and many of them list "issues with parents" as one of their reasons for throwing in the towel. Word is spreading, and the more negativity teachers receive from parents, the harder it becomes to recruit the best and the brightest out of colleges.

So, what can we do to stem the tide? What do teachers really need parents to understand?

For starters, we are educators, not nannies. We are educated professionals who work with kids every day and often see your child in a different light than you do. If we give you advice, don't fight it. Take it, and digest it in the same way you would consider advice from a doctor or lawyer. I have become used to some parents who just don't want to hear anything negative about their child, but sometimes if you're willing to take early warning advice to heart, it can help you head off an issue that could become much greater in the future.

Trust us. At times when I tell parents that their child has been a behavior problem, I can almost see the hairs rise on their backs. They are ready to fight and defend their child, and it is exhausting. One of my biggest pet peeves is when I tell a mom something her son did and she turns, looks at him and asks, "Is that true?" Well, of course it's true. I just told you. And please don't ask whether a classmate can confirm what happened or whether another teacher might have been present. It only demeans teachers and weakens the partnership between teacher and parent.

Please quit with all the excuses

And if you really want to help your children be successful, stop making excuses for them. I was talking with a parent and her son about his summer reading assignments. He told me he hadn't started, and I let him know I was extremely disappointed because school starts in two weeks.

His mother chimed in and told me that it had been a horrible summer for them because of family issues they'd been through in July. I said I was so sorry, but I couldn't help but point out that the assignments were given in May. She quickly added that she was allowing her child some "fun time" during the summer before getting back to work in July and that it wasn't his fault the work wasn't complete.

Can you feel my pain?

Some parents will make excuses regardless of the situation, and they are raising children who will grow into adults who turn toward excuses and do not create a strong work ethic. If you don't want your child to end up 25 and jobless, sitting on your couch eating potato chips, then stop making excuses for why they aren't succeeding. Instead, focus on finding solutions.

Parents, be a partner instead of a prosecutor

And parents, you know, it's OK for your child to get in trouble sometimes. It builds character and teaches life lessons. As teachers, we are vexed by those parents who stand in the way of those lessons; we call them helicopter parents because they want to swoop in and save their child every time something goes wrong. If we give a child a 79 on a project, then that is what the child deserves. Don't set up a time to meet with me to negotiate extra credit for an 80. It's a 79, regardless of whether you think it should be a B+.

This one may be hard to accept, but you shouldn't assume that because your child makes straight A's that he/she is getting a good education. The truth is, a lot of times it's the bad teachers who give the easiest grades, because they know by giving good grades everyone will leave them alone. Parents will say, "My child has a great teacher! He made all A's this year!"

Wow. Come on now. In all honesty, it's usually the best teachers who are giving the lowest grades, because they are raising expectations. Yet, when your children receive low scores you want to complain and head to the principal's office.

Please, take a step back and get a good look at the landscape. Before you challenge those low grades you feel the teacher has "given" your child, you might need to realize your child "earned" those grades and that the teacher you are complaining about is actually the one that is providing the best education.

And please, be a partner instead of a prosecutor. I had a child cheat on a test, and his parents threatened to call a lawyer because I was labeling him a criminal. I know that sounds crazy, but principals all across the country are telling me that more and more lawyers are accompanying parents for school meetings dealing with their children.

Teachers walking on eggshells

I feel so sorry for administrators and teachers these days whose hands are completely tied. In many ways, we live in fear of what will happen next. We walk on eggshells in a watered-down education system where teachers lack the courage to be honest and speak their minds. If they make a slight mistake, it can become a major disaster.

My mom just told me a child at a local school wrote on his face with a permanent marker. The teacher tried to get it off with a wash cloth, and it left a red mark on the side of his face. The parent called the media, and the teacher lost her job. My mom, my very own mother, said, "Can you believe that woman did that?"

I felt hit in the gut. I honestly would have probably tried to get the mark off as well. To think that we might lose our jobs over something so minor is scary. Why would anyone want to enter our profession? If our teachers continue to feel threatened and scared, you will rob our schools of our best and handcuff our efforts to recruit tomorrow's outstanding educators.

Finally, deal with negative situations in a professional manner.

If your child said something happened in the classroom that concerns you, ask to meet with the teacher and approach the situation by saying, "I wanted to let you know something my child said took place in your class, because I know that children can exaggerate and that there are always two sides to every story. I was hoping you could shed some light for me." If you aren't happy with the result, then take your concerns to the principal, but above all else, never talk negatively about a teacher in front of your child. If he knows you don't respect her, he won't either, and that will lead to a whole host of new problems.

We know you love your children. We love them, too. We just ask -- and beg of you -- to trust us, support us and work with the system, not against it. We need you to have our backs, and we need you to give us the respect we deserve. Lift us up and make us feel appreciated, and we will work even harder to give your child the best education possible.

That's a teacher's promise, from me to you.

Still here, just not blogging for now....

2012-01-21T07:03:00.000-08:00

Two things I learned in 2011 and have taken with me into 2012...

It is what it is................

and................

You'll figure it out...

Yea 2012!

2012-01-01T15:43:00.000-08:00

There are a lot of ideas I had for a New Year's post.

However. I'm keeping it simple.

I wish for 2012 to be a kinder, gentler year than 2011.

2011 was a bit of a bitch. On crack. 2010 was her whore of a mom.

A friend of mine told me that the whole hype of 2012 being the "end of the world" was a bastardization of the real meaning. The real meaning of which is "get your shit together or the shit will really hit the fan for you in 2012."

One way to try and make sense of so many difficulties and challenges coming in like endless torpedoes for both of us the last two years.

So last night in my email I got a letter from my old me to my future me. I'd forgotten I had written it, and it made me cry with both gratitude (for having made it through some difficult times) and compassion for my old self.

I'm doing it again and recommend it to all.

Futureme.org

Wishing you all a great 2012!

Spin Cycle: Happy Holidays to Synchronicity and Sassy

2011-12-23T08:28:00.000-08:00

Jen over at Sprite's Keeper, who is our hostess with the mostess of the Spin Cycle, runs a holiday spin each year where we spin up a favorite blogger. I think I might have first joined the Spin Cycle on this very one a few years back (have I been blogging that long...well, not if you count the days, weeks, months... that I go MIA)...

The blogging world has given back so much more to me than I ever imagined. I cannot put into words the camaraderie and connection that is made out here and how it has helped me through some very difficult times.

For this special spin, we pitch to Jen five favorite bloggers and she gives a holiday assignment, usually one of our five, to feature. This year I struck gold and got two! Jen did not know that formerlyonlyamovie at Synchronicity and Distraction and tulpen at Bad Words were sisters. With this information, she said I could weave a spin of them both.

Movie, now known as formerlyonlyamovie, was one of the first bloggers I connected with out here. She was one of the two regular commenters on my blog in its beginnings and gave me something to look forward to each time I posted. She is thoughtful, insightful, kind, and compassionate. Anyone who has Movie for a reader knows what I am talking about. She always gets me and leaves a comment that touches my heart.

Movie and I have many parallels in our lives - we are both teachers, have similar unbloggable distractions, and personal histories that make us wonder how we have not crossed paths in real time.

Movie's blog, Of Synchronicity and Distraction, is a wonderful read. She notices the little things in life and the connectiveness of them all. Her positive approach to life in all its messiness inspires me. Her love for her students and dedication to the teaching profession is beyond limits. Best of all, she has a wicked sense of humor that stays intact through it all.

Tulpen, over at Bad Words, is Movie's sister and oh what fun it must be to hang out with the two of them! Tulpen is one of the best writers I have come across and I look forward to every post she puts out there. She also has a wicked sense of humor and her full force honesty in her writing, combined with her creative use of bad words, makes each post a work of artistry.

Tulpen is a nurse in a hospice and she weaves tales of death and dying that can make one laugh out loud and choke up with a wall of tears, sometimes in the very same post.

She has two adorable kids and writes posts about parenting that are real and raw. I wish I had been blogging back when my kids were young and had written down their stories with half as much talent as Tulpen.

Some of my very favorite posts at Bad Words are when some stupid soul has pissed off Tulpen and she writes them a letter telling them off. She has creatively combined profanity and added to my cursing vocabulary more than anyone on the planet, and for that I am very thankful.

Please go visit these two talented bloggers! You will laugh and cry and be forever grateful. For more Holiday Spins and a chance to meet more wonderful bloggers, visit Jen over at Sprite's Keeper!

TTT: Ojai California!

2011-12-07T21:52:00.000-08:00

Back in October, when I took my break and went home (why is it the place you are from will always be home-even when you have lived more of your life away from it)…

Where was I?

Oh yes. After two days in LA, a day and a half in San Diego, two days in Camarillo/Oxnard/Ventura, I was finally able to spend my last day with my other sister. The one who lives in Ventura, started me blogging back in the day, and now has a cool photo/recipe gig every Saturday and Sunday at WeYuMe.

Sis and I have similar tastes in music, in wine, and, most especially, in enjoying a road trip.

She asked me where I wanted to go and I said Ojai. For one reason or another, I have not been back to Ojai since long before I moved to Hawaii (1982).

My best friend from childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood went to a cool private school in Ojai for high school. I missed her when we went off to separate schools, but had the perk of going up to Ojai with her on weekends. I remember everyone offering organic food (including the fun brownies- “hey man, it’s organic”), we went square dancing (but we were dressed like surfer/hippie/organic girls), and everyone ended up at Matilija Hot Springs. Midnight. Beautiful moon. Cool night air and natural hot springs. Ah, youth.

These days Ojai seemed to me an eclectic blend of organic food gone nouveau, art, and high end shops for LA folks up for a drive. Lots of beautiful California land, avocado and olive groves, and (my favorite), open roads.

Come along…

After a road song of a California morning in Ventura, we headed to a place in Ojai that Sis knew I would love. An organic market and restaurant, The Farmer and the Cook.

Huevos Rancheros was my breakfast. Check out that Ojai avocado! Home made tortillas with scrambled eggs, the awesome avo, pico de gallo, and guajillo sauce on the side. If it had been lunch, I would have gone for the grilled squash blossom quesadilla.

Tummies full, a walk is in order. Here is the place where you will find the trendier shops and the LA crowd up and about with their spending mula.

I did like this shop. Had I spending money myself, I so would have bought something here. African imports with the coolest beaded jewelry.

Next, sis took me off the main road to a place she's been dying to show me for years - Bart's Books - The World's Largest Outdoor Bookstore. I could so live there. It's an old house, with outdoor patios and little rooms and places to sit all over. Mostly hardback books and all used. Amazing. We sat in the sun. Then we sat in the shade. We read some, skimmed some, browsed some. After collecting a stack of ten or more, I narrowed it down to one. I bought a Joan Didion book. A favorite author of both my sister and I.

We had to share our table with the handsome guy with the green eyes. Tough day.

We left Ojai and went up through upper Ojai where Sis took me out to the olive groves.

Looking back down on upper Ojai as we head to Santa Paula.

A rare glimpse of yours truly.....

Got a favorite place you went to sometime this year? Link on up!

Too Many Hats on Too Thin of Ice...

2011-12-04T18:32:00.001-08:00

Hey. It's my blog. I can mix metaphors if I want to.

Teacher=

The stuff people think of when you say teacher. Up in front of a group of teenagers, trying my best to keep them on task, learning, engaged, paying attention, not sleeping, not bored, not poking at each other, off their cell phones...

Preparing to teach. Reading, researching, making lesson plans, making work sheets and handouts, deconstructing a book or an article, creating review games, creating assessments...

Assessing student work. Grading quizzes and tests, checking homework for completion and understanding, writing notes on their writing, writing notes on their classwork, inputting grades into a grade book (required by state law to have a hard copy), inputting grades into electronic grade book...

Calling parents/ guardians. Informing parents that their child is failing/not doing homework/not keeping up with the school reading program/has done something inappropriate in class, getting stuck on the phone with parents who ask silly questions instead of working with me to get their kid back in the game, getting cussed out by other parents.... and, sadly not often enough letting still other parents know that their child is doing wonderfully and it is such a pleasure to have them in class (these calls are usually at Christmas when I make myself make time).

Keeping track of an entire grade level for school wide reading program. Printing weekly reports, inputting grades, staying in at lunch to create a reading study hall.

Committee Attendee. Teachers serve on all the committees a school has in place to run said school. It is endless. If you are actually reading the small print and still here I am amazed and will spare you the details of the 3X a week meetings and paper trail of these meetings and implementing all the shit decided on by these committees.

Recorder of all things in triplicate. In addition to just doing what I do, I need to prove it. I need to have a binder with all my lesson plans, aligned to state standards and school wide initiatives, a binder with notes and data from all those meetings, a data binder of student test scores and other indicators of learning, as well as post in my classroom student work with exemplars and rubrics once a month...

My own personal assistant. A couple we hang with once asked me why I did not have an assistant to make copies, file, make parent phone calls....this same couple also would complain more than a bit about the costs of public education. The irony eluded them. So I pointed it out.

Wife/Mom/One who does the most in the running of the household =
No bulleted list needed here. You all know what this means, then just add a dash of unbloggable goodness and a sprinkle of people who pretend they cannot feed themselves and you have the pretty picture.

Woman Who Tries to Exercise

Woman Who is Attempting to Stay Centered Even if it means getting up at 3-fucking o'clock in the morning, I WILL have my zen time - those one to two hours of meditation, prayer, journaling, yoga, reading, and centering myself have become the standard of my day. And yes, it may not be coming through on this post, which is coming off a bit more bitchy and a lot less tongue in cheek than I had in mind. But if I leave the draft for revising it will probably not make the publish button any time soon.

Business Woman Yes, this is about the home business I started a few months ago and is turning into the THING I LIKE TO DO THE MOST AND YET SOMEHOW IT ALWAYS GETS PUSHED TO THE SIDE WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN AND EVERYONE IS NEEDY.

Blogger Sporadic at best lately...

I am blessed beyond measure to have so many activities in my life, and yet... and yet.

The work from the business I began has captured my heart and attention. Meeting new people, learning new skills, a chance to create an income I will never see as an educator...

So while the juggling continues (third metaphor for those of you counting), the ball most often dropped is blogging. I have thought about stopping completely, but have decided I would rather be a bad blogger than no blogger at all.

And there you go.

Another Ohio Buddy

2011-11-28T14:38:00.000-08:00

One of my long time blogger buds got left out of the toast to Ohio the other day.

Mama Badger.

Awesome and fun blogger who I have been following for a long time.

Check her out!

Just for Fun

2011-11-26T14:00:00.000-08:00

I went to Zumba with Daughter on Thanksgiving and Friday.

Zumba Jen added a new song and Daughter prepped me by showing me the video ahead of time.

So much fun. I laugh my ass off every time I watch this and I had a smile grinning like a crazy rotting Jock O' Lantern through the whole number in class.

Which is saying a lot because I am usually swearing under my breath about what the fuck I was thinking half way through the class when I would like to quit early but all the ladies even older than me are acting like its a cakewalk.

TTT: Ohio Anyone?

2011-11-23T03:28:00.000-08:00

I found an old friend on Facebook. Michael Miller. He and I worked together in a restaurant in the 80's. Then he became the room mate of my two best friends.

Oh, the fun back then. The dinner parties and bottles of wine... The beach days.

Later, he moved to Lanikai beach and we had get togethers over there. One time we all rented kayaks and paddled out to the Mokes. Had a picnic.

Wonderful, adventurous, fun-filled days. Before careers and families and mortgages....

Mike is also a wonderful craftsman and artist. He used to collect beach glass and make amazing earrings and beach glass mosaics to hang in the window.

Mike moved to Maui years ago and managed an art gallery over there. Then, sometime ago, he moved back to Ohio to help care for his aging parents.

I've never been to Ohio, but two of my long time blog buds live there.

Jan from the Sushi Bar. She is wise, wise-mouthed, witty, and a wonderful cook who knows more about food and sustainability than anyone else I know. She is also about to come out with a cookbook - how awesome is that?

Kristin Hoffman. An adorable twenty something and most excellent writer. Also, I think, the very first blogger I ever left a comment on.

Both of these lovely ladies have contributed to TTT before.

Mike has a consignment store in Tipp City. Crossroad Consignments, which you can also find on Facebook.

If you travel in his neck of the woods, please go pay him and his store a visit!

Tipp City, Ohio

Mike says wonderful things about Tipp City....

Got Travel? A favorite haunt by your home? Link a post on up.

Oh! Just realized this post will go up on Thanksgiving. A most Happy Thanksgiving to all. One thing I am most grateful for is the world of blog and all the friendships I have made out here.

Conversation with Daughter..

2011-11-20T14:59:00.000-08:00

I have female professors who don't shave their armpits.

Why are you looking at their armpits?

It's a movement class. You can see the rings of sweat too.

Nice.

Armpit hair. Sweat stains. Before 10 o'clock in the morning. On one cup of coffee. It's a challenge Mom.

Almost Blogging

2011-11-19T12:56:00.000-08:00

I was thinking I might be catching up on things after a rather intense month.

Therefore, I might have a moment to blog today.

However, while slicing some fresh kale I bought from the farmer's market this morning, I completely forgot my hub's warning that yesterday he had all my knives sharpened.

It's not easy to type while extending one's left index finger (wrapped in three layers of band aids) poised towards the heavens.

Spin Cycle: Halloween Past and Present

2011-10-23T14:30:00.000-07:00

This is a repost, but Jen said "Halloween then and now" and this fits the bill to the tee.

Circa 1960’s
When I was young and growing up in the San Fernando Valley with my two sisters, Halloween was a huge deal. We COULDN’T WAIT for dinner to be over and dark to descend so we could go trick or treating. My dad had this horrid awful mask that he would drag out, not only for Halloween but also for slumber parties. It came from a movie set and beat the shit out of anything they sell today. It was SO REAL. Not at all rubbery. It was the scariest, creepiest, wrinkled, evil face ever. At least that’s the way I remember and I’m sticking to it. He’d wait until our guard was down, which means sitting on the floor, sorting our candies, and with mask, trench coat, and big ol’ boots, he’d slam open the back screen door and come tearing at us. Clenching hands and BRUUUUUHAHAHA. I’m surprised we never pissed our pants. That’s how much we fell for it every year.

Halloween 1991
Daughter was just over two and we had mostly managed to keep her from chocolate and sweets. Instead of taking her trick or treating, we dressed up and took her to a restaurant/club. You see, my husband and I met working at Bobby McGee’s. I was cocktailing to pay my way through college and my husband was a waiter. EVERYONE wore a costume at this crazy place to work. Even though we had both moved on, we still had a lot of friends there and they did a happy hour thingy on Halloween. So we dressed as the Flintstones. Cave clothes- mine and Daughter’s hair twisted around big, fake bones. It’s a great picture of back in the day when my husband and I used to both work out. Daughter was two and was the most precious Pebbles ever. Not that I’m prejudiced or anything. We went at, like 5 PM, and even after a shitload of fun and frivolity, we were back home by 8. Within 5 minutes of sitting down some kids came trick or treating. There was no hiding from the two year old the fact that I was giving stuff away and that was the end of her not getting candy for Halloween.

Halloween 1993
We had just bought our home that summer and it was Son’s first Halloween. He was 16 months old. He had the CUTEST fucking tiger costume. He toddled along and I swear our block looked like that scene in ET, where swarms of kids come out right at dusk. Being a new neighborhood, it was a beehive of toddler hood. I was holding his hand and waited on the sidewalk as Daughter and our friend’s kids went up to the first house. Son could barely talk, but he sure let it be known that he had observed what went on at the front door. He grunted and grumbled to see inside the kids pumpkin buckets. When he figured out that they were partaking of give-away stuff, he pulled and pulled on my arm until I walked him up to the next door. That was the beginning of his professional status at trick or treating. Everyone thought the baby tiger was too too cute and gave him twice as much as the other kids. But half way around the block he figured out how to unwrap a piece of candy and that was the end. Afterwards, he wanted to sit in the middle of the sidewalk and eat his whole loot. My friend had to take all the kids around so I could haul his little butt home and check his candy before he scarfed down a razor blade or an LSD tab.

Halloween 2006
My children are 17 and 14 and they have made plans to go out with some friends. Son is actually trick or treating in a friendly neighborhood that lets the teens keep up the good work. His professional status is still intact. Daughter is in a play and after rehearsals they are having a party. My husband has to work. I have the night to myself, but I’m being a Halloween Homebody and have decided I don’t want to answer the door and give away candy by myself. So I turn the porch light off and all the downstairs lights too. I go upstairs and treat myself to an aromatherapy bath with candles. As leave the bath I pause to look at myself in the candlelit mirror and contemplate the effects of the last few months. I’m still officially bald, but the first soft down of baby soft fuzz can be felt more than seen. My radiation treatments, finished just two weeks before, have left a thickening of red welts under my left arm. But it’s not as bad as they said it would be. The aloe must have really helped. My scars are still fairly new and jagged and my skin still has the sallowness of all that chemo. But I made it. I’m done with the treatments and have returned to work. I walk to the upstairs window and peek through the blinds to see the families on the sidewalks with their ballerinas and spidermen. I don’t feel the least bit sad to be by myself. I had insisted my kids not stay home for me; I want to make up for all those days and nights they had hung out with me in my room the previous summer. I curl up in bed with a book, grateful that the worst is over. Happy that life is moving forward and back to normal.

Update 2011
In March of this year I made my five year mark as a survivor. Yea. This is huge and I am so grateful to be here.

Looking back at this older post I cannot but help notice how it ended, "happy that life is moving forward and back to normal."

Hm...

After nearly two unbloggable years, with life events I found much more challenging than even cancer itself, I am flabbergasted at my naivete.

I have no idea what I will be doing this year for Halloween. I do know I will dress up as something so my homeroom students get the extra spirit point. Other than that, I am still grateful to be here, more so with each passing day. Taking the good with the bad and one day at a time.

For more spins on Halloween, head on over to Jen at Sprite's Keeper. She puts the list up on Friday.

TTT: Ventura County

2011-10-20T00:00:00.000-07:00

When I said in a previous post that my trip home was amazingly perfect, I wasn't even using hyperbole (one of my fave literary devices).

My mom was well - physically, mentally, and emotionally. She has not only adjusted to living in assisted living, she has thrived.

Thank-you God.

The day that my younger sister and her husband met up with me (all the way from Florida), and the three of us took Mom out for the day played out to be what might be tallied as one of the best days of my year.

Come along and I'll show you how to have a great day in Ventura County - featuring our family's favorite haunts.
On the Ventura County line of the PCH is Neptune's Net. It has been there forever as far as I know. Back in the day it was quite the dive, but has been updated and the menu looked awesome. We even were tempted to eat there, but had just had In and Out burgers, fries, and shakes; so we only went in for beers and iced teas for a picnic.

Neptune's Net is also a favorite stop for the bikers on a weekend and then you would find more like 40 or 50 bikes outside. We were there on a weekday so you only get two cool bikes in the photo.

We had to pass Sycamore Canyon to head to Neptune's Net for the cold ones, and while we were driving down PCH, a school of dolphins were swimming parallel to us.

Beautiful, clear, no winds, fall day.

Frolicking dolphins.

Auspicious, yes?
This Sycamore Canyon day park is where our mobile home park used to be in the late 60's and early 70's. That's grannie and my little sis there. My sister does not blog nor even use facebook, and when I asked her if it was OK if I put her photo up here, she said, "blog away!"

Behind Mom and Sis is the old clubhouse. The rangers use it now and it is a bit run down, but it used to be the center of the park, both physically and socially. The upstairs was a party room for the adults, but the manager let my friends and I have sleepovers up there sometimes.

Good times.

After a couple beers and a picnic, you can take a nice walk on our little beach. That's Castle Rock down there and my friends and I climbed all over it like indigenous crabs back in the day.

Between the rocks the waves rush in and flow back out to the ocean. Like rapids. We used to jump off the rocks and let ourselves get flushed out to sea. Again and again.

I would never have let my kids do anything half that dangerous, but we were not watched quite as over protectively back in those days.

After a few hours at Sycamore Park, head on up the coast to Oxnard. You will be following my old school bus route.

Out at the beach in Oxnard, right on the marina, I recommend you head on over to the Whale's Tail. I used to hang out there with my BFF and I am pretty sure it was with a fake ID. That's how long ago it was.

It is still a happening happy hour spot.

Here's sis showing off our "cucumber Bloody Marys." Sis used to work as a bartender at the Whale's Tail in the '80's. I was already living in Hawaii.

After happy hour head straight into Oxnard itself to Cabo's for some of the most real deal Mexican food to be had. I am ready to leave my computer right now and go make myself something to eat just thinking about our dinner that night.

When you walk into Cabo's there is a woman making hand made tortillas right there in the center of the restaurant.

Oh. My. God.

Best tortillas ever.

Can you tell we have MEH Mexican food over here? I was so ready for this meal.

Cabo's also does the best table side guacamole I've ever had. My BIL was talking about it all day.

Some beers, some chips (also made from their home made tortillas)....

We had tacos to die for. I was too busy inhaling them to get a photo for you all. My favorite is the Taco Dorados de Picadillo. It is pork, beef, and potato; all cooked down together and served in a crispy, fresh, hand-made minutes before tortilla.

We also ordered the Carne Asada and Carnitas tacos, which are served in soft tortillas with cilantro, onion, and lime.

Then we all shared so we could have one of each.

Cabo also does a Bloody Mary with cocktail shrimp inside. Which we also ate too fast to take photos.

There you have it. Ventura County a la Pseudo.

Got a favorite haunt where you live? Where you grew up? Link on up!

Spin Cycle: There is no Black or White, Just Shades of Grey

2011-10-18T00:00:00.000-07:00

There are all kinds of ghosts and it seems that lately I have been more inclined to deal with the ghosts and hauntings of my childhood, of my young adulthood, and even of times not so long ago.

Everyone says all families are dysfunctional.

Maybe.

Go ahead and play the music video. You'll figure out why soon.

If you read yesterday’s post or have been reading my blog for any amount of time, you know I grew up in a home with a mentally ill mom with an addiction problem and suicidal behavior. So yeah. A bit dysfunctional.

My first day back in LA last week I arrived at the airport in the morning on a red-eye. By 10 AM I had my rental car and was tearing up the 405 headed north. I was on my way to the cemetery to deliver leis to the ancestors.

The feelings aroused by hitting the road on a glorious sunny Southern California day overwhelmed me to say the least. I had not been on my own on the roads of what felt like a past life in a couple of decades. I got off in Granada Hills to find the house where we had lived until I was 10, before we moved to the beach. While I was prowling the streets, looking for my first home ever, I was listening to a country music station and Miranda Lambert’s song, “The House that Built Me” came on.

Seriously. Sometimes the Universe has a perverse sense of timing.

My friend’s death (at 47 years old) the week before combined with the nostalgia for my past, and the remnants of my memories came flooding in like a hurricane. How can one describe the layers of all one’s former selves drifting in and out, together and yet separate from this person I’d become?

It was difficult to tell whether all the old me’s were the ghosts or if I had become a ghost just drifting through my past.

And there were still the ancestors to deal with.

My father’s death eight years ago was a difficult time for my sisters and me. It turned out that while we had all painted my mom out as the bad guy for so many years (a concept encouraged by both my father and his family), in the end, dad was no innocent. A much better liar than my mom by far and just as manipulative. For anyone harboring a life of lies, here's a warning. Death and dying sometimes have a way of bringing everything to the surface.

It took me a long time to truly forgive him. I wish I could say I was a better person, but the truth is I was mad at him for a couple of years, and those were his last years.

Even worse, I was left with a gaping hole in my long secure feelings for my Uncle, my grandmother, and all the rest. These loved ones had been my force of resilience through my childhood and teen years and I credited them for my coming out of it all somewhat OK. But I found myself upset with them for not protecting us from him. For encouraging us to believe that everything wrong was my mom’s fault. For their trusting dad to take care of us and do right by us when he was not capable of any such thing. He was their son, their brother, they should have known better....

I had spent my life putting these beloved ones on a pedestal and it was painful to feel abandoned by them, even though none of them were around to explain.

Does it make me sound like a horrible person to say this aloud? To write it, even anonymously?

Maybe.

Probably.

As a 53 year old woman I see what a narcissistic perspective I had at the time.

But it was more the 13 year old inside of me that was hurt than the middle aged woman.

The Eternal Valley Memorial Park is the resting place for my father, my Uncle (dad’s older brother and my grandfather figure), my paternal grandmother, my Aunt, and my Aunt’s husband (uncle by marriage).

I had not been back since my father’s funeral in 2003.

As I laid the leis on their resting places and said my prayers for them, all the love in the world came flooding back in. I knew I was loved, their love was what carried me through some crazy times. All the rest did not matter anymore.

Of course they had to trust dad back then, to give him a chance to do the right thing. It did not matter that he was not able to live up to their hopes for him. Giving him a shot was a generous and noble choice.

I felt a peace I had not felt the last time I was there.

Later, I thought as I headed back towards Santa Monica, later I may go by my Uncle and grandmother’s house.

The refuge.

Perhaps I might even stop and walk to the side of the garage to see if my three year old footprints are still in the cement there. If the owner of the house comes out, I'll explain I just need a reminder of a favorite memory.

For more ghost stories,head on over to Jen at Sprite's Keeper.

Titty Mountain Redeux

2011-10-15T18:15:00.000-07:00

That pretty blogger at the top of my side bar is Jan from Jan's Sushi Bar. Her blog is in the running for an award, so click on her picture and please go vote for her. Then run to her blog and check it out. She is A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

We always come back to this place. This is where I spent a wonderful day last week with my mom, my younger sister, and her husband. That cut off mountain in the back is "Titty Mountain."

The fact that the day went wonderfully is pretty fucking huge.

This is the beach that used to belong to the Surf and Sand Mobile Home Park. The beach where I sowed the seeds of my soul as I watched my family implode around me.

In lieu of writing anew, for now I am reposting something from my memoir writing. For many of you, it will be familiar. When I went back and read it, I was amazed how many of you have hung in with me through the unbloggable years. Thank-you for that.

And now I give you a story from Titty Mountain, circa 1969....

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!”

“MOM! Look UP! Look up at Titty Mountain! It’s ME!”

From the top of the hill in the State Park, on the outer edge of the man made drop off of a cliff, I jumped up and down and waved my arms in the air. I did an Indian pow wow dance and a whirling dervish. Nothing was catching my mom’s attention. I stood for a moment contemplating her putzing around in our yard, completely oblivious that her eleven year old middle daughter was looking down on her from high above.

I stopped trying to gain my mom’s attention and just observed her for awhile. She looked so innocent and vulnerable and small from my vantage point. I felt an ache of tenderness for her.

Pure love with a bittersweet edge.

Was it the altitude? The seeming godliness of my perch above the mobile home park and the Pacific Coast Highway on this clear fall day?

Fall was my favorite season to live on the beach; the elements seemed to jump out at you. Riding home from school I would sit on the right hand side of the bus where if I was to leap from the window I might have cleared the rocks and landed with a splash into the ocean. Sitting on the bus and watching the sunlight dance on the ocean’s surface like a swarm of dazzling sea fairies hypnotized me and encouraged my habit of daydreaming. One day a young classmate had sat down beside me, and with a mirror attached to the top of his shoe, gazed up at my panties for a bit of time. Until my friend Sarah saw him and punched his arm. I might never have noticed myself.

On this day, I’d had the heebie jeebies and needed to get out and about. I’d stopped over at Sarah’s, but she only wanted to lounge around her bedroom, listening to 45’s and eating snacks. She wanted to leaf through teen magazines and talk about boys. She was nearly two years older than I and was a little more boy crazy than your average 12 and a half year old.

I’d made up an excuse and ducked out of there. I hadn’t felt like returning home and lying around my own place any more than Sarah’s. At least Sarah’s mom left the girls’ bedroom alone and gave us some privacy. My mom could not stand to see people relaxing. It made her more nervous and anxious than her normal busy bee buzz.

Our beach was such a small little cove that at times it felt confining. My urge to be one with nature that day went beyond standing at the end of the pier and staring into the horizon, and even went beyond climbing along the rocks on the north side of the beach and watching the waves smash against the biggest boulders. Sneaking as close to the raging surf as one can.

No, what I needed that day was some real physical exertion and a sense of freedom.

So off I’d gone on my own to Titty Mountain.

Titty Mountain got its name from its appearance. The hills along the west side of Sycamore Canyon formed a ridge and there was a trail along the top. On one side you could look down at the Pacific Coast Highway, out and across the ocean. An eagle’s view. The other side of the hills sloped down into Sycamore Canyon itself. The beginning of which was the campground, but the canyon narrowed and went on and on and made its way all the way through the hills up and into the back of Newbury Park. A place I would be living four years from then, but I had no idea at the time.

The reason the edge of this range of hills looked like a big tit was purely man made. A section at the end had to be sliced off for the Pacific Coast Highway to pass around. The flat, brown cliff that occurred from this destruction of nature had the shape of a humongous boob. Something that looked like it could come to life and face off Godzilla in a Japanese film. At the pinnacle was a giant sagebrush. It looked exactly like a nipple sitting there on top. My friends and I had not named it Titty Mountain. It was already christened by those who had come before us.

The location of our mobile home at the outer edge of the park and right next to PCH was directly below Titty Mountain.

So, from my summit I could see directly into our back yard and whatever my mom was doing. She was oblivious to my shouting and I eventually tired of observing her. I let my eyes wander up and over the amazing horizon that I had all to myself.

Even at eleven I had a strong sense of and appreciation for infinite space.

Standing on the edge of a cliff and looking out over the vastness of the ocean on an ethereal Fall afternoon was a better high than what the older teens were doing down in some hidden hideaway. A part of me almost felt like I could lift my arms and soar like a hawk. The fact that during my childhood I had recurring dreams where I could fly, and had witnessed panoramic landscapes similar to my ledge on Titty Mountain’s summit only increased the surreal feel of the moment.

I could also see south down the PCH. Brown, sage brushy hills rolled slowly into the hypnotic ocean of shifting blues and greens, with the winding black ribbon of highway separating the two giants and rippling towards the haze of Los Angeles.

I could almost feel the sensation from my dreams, the lift of flight. I raised my arms to my sides and closed my eyes to better feel the breeze on my face.

I’m not sure how long I was poised there on the edge of the cliff. But when I opened my eyes, and peered down again into our back yard, my mom had definitely noticed me. She was doing her own version of the pow wow rain dance whirling dervish. Her version involved finger wagging and hand signals. Gigantic mouthing of words, which, curiously, I could figure out.

“Get. The. Fuck. Off that ledge. Back off. What the fuck are you thinking? Do you want to give me a fucking heart attack?”

Maybe some other curse words thrown in. My mom really knew how to string them together when she was on a role. One of her talents I was proud to inherit.

For a moment I stood there, feigning innocence, leaned over the ledge a smite more to get a better look at her and pretended to listen more carefully with pantomimed hand behind my ear.

When I knew she had reached that crucial point where her eyes actually bulged out of her head like a cartoon, I backed off. I felt slightly guilty, especially remembering the tenderness I’d felt only moments ago for my mom.

But I did not go home right away. I followed the ridge along the top, walking parallel to PCH heading north. I passed by the first trail that zigzagged down into the campground and opted instead to keep going and head to another crest or peak where I could feel my spirits lift with the sky.

As mad as my mom was, I knew if I waited a couple of hours, by the time I got home she’d be well past her first few drinks for the night. She’d have taken a valium or three and she’d either be happy slosh or scary slosh, but sloshed all the same. My dad would be running late from work, again. There could be a huge fight when he finally arrived home and my mom might escalate to crazyville and suicide threats.

Two nights before she had walked around with a loaded gun detailing how the next time we saw her we would be “picking her brains off the rails of the pier.”

My father had ignored her and continued to watch TV so my sisters and I did likewise.

With the slightest of sighs and then a deep breath, I settled down Indian style on another cliff to watch the sunset.

Spin Cycle: Home and Heart

2011-10-12T07:23:00.000-07:00

Well, I certainly found a hidden perk to having a second job.

Road trips.

I had not hit my home turf sans family, in..... like....

EVER.

It was one of those events where everything fell into place, everything went smoothly, good times were had by all.

Since this was my first time to travel the roads of the girl I used to be on my own since I married and had children, I will count this as my Spin on Firsts.

Since I traveled, worked my business, and visited with friends and family my entire week of break, I am playing catch up on lesson planning. I hope to capture in words the feelings the trip brought up, but for now, I will link you to a post on the beach where I grew up, the beach where I had a lovely reunion with my mom and younger sister last week.

For more Spins, head on over to Sprite's Keeper.

TTT: Critical Mass

2011-09-28T23:39:00.000-07:00

Forces aligned, openings materialized, and a trip off the rock came into full view and was created.

In other words, after four long years away, I am returning to my homeland over the October Intercession.

My second (side) job is blossoming with promise and I had an opportunity to expand my business with this trip. It seems meant to be as things fell into place quite easily.

I have not seem my mom since the insanity of summer 2010. Those of you who have been here awhile know what I am talking about.

So I thought I'd pay her a visit. The death of a dear friend last week reminded me of the fragility of life. Despite the craziness that is my mom, it was time.

Ying and Yang.

Work and family.

It's all sorting out. Or not. Either way, it will be what it will be.

Critical Mass (Preponderance of the Great)

In an atom, when CRITICAL MASS is reached, it is a time when several heavy particles are occupying the same space, thereby creating extraordinary events and catastrophic chain reactions. In much the same way, the current situation is becoming weighted with a great many considerations. There are numerous decisions pending, the air is full of ideas with all their ensuing multifarious possibilities, and the ponderous affairs of the people around you are pushing into the foreground. All of it is important, serious, and meaningful, and all of it is coming to a head right now.

The I Ching Workbook

Travel tip? Not so much. After my trip to LA, I am sure I'll have tips to share. Meanwhile, feel free to link on up.

I Won! I Won!

2011-09-25T23:35:00.000-07:00

If you don't already read Michelle over at It's a Dog's Life, you really should be.

Super cool librarian superhero blogger.

Photos from archives.

Vegetarian recipes.

Wit and humor.

Michelle had a contest over at her blog....

And I WON!

This cool recipe book from her trip to New Orleans.

I made this right away. Red beans and rice is a family fav. It came out great. My camera was acting up and I don't have photos, but it was yummy.

The book is signed by the author himself.

Michelle sent it all the way across the ocean to little ol' me. I'm very lucky.

Now, please go visit Michelle while I work on the Gumbo.

TTT: Zumba, Marinas, and Volcanoes

2011-09-15T03:00:00.000-07:00

Except for hiking, walking, and ocean sports; I haven't exercised in twenty years.

However, of late, Daughter has been poking me to go to her Zumba class. So I did.

It's at an outdoor pavillion, overlooking the marina, with Koko Crater in the background.

As the boats leave the marina, the people on board dance and wave and shout ZUMBA at us.

Jen, Zumba instructor extraordinaire, has the energy of a tiger.

Best part of all about being outdoors with the great view? No mirrors.

Before it zooms in close, check out the view...

If you are vacationing this side of the Pacific Pond, come check it out. Right around the corner is Hanauma Bay, where you can go snorkeling and cool off.

Got a fun place you go to near home? Far away? Link on up.

Spin Cycle: Rules

2011-09-12T19:20:00.000-07:00

Ah Jen, rules...

As a teacher, a mother, a citizen...

That's a lot of rules.

I'm going to borrow the conclusion of a paper my son wrote last year in one of his college classes. It's simpler than all the rules in my life, and yet so much more profound.

Do Unto Others...

According to Karen Armstrong in the article, The Golden Rule, “All major religions preach it, we’re all taught it, but how many of us live it?” (54). Good question. Maybe it should start with the religious leaders recognizing this connection, this similarity, and pointing it out to their followers instead of pointing out the differences. The article goes on to say that Confucius was the first to come up with the Golden Rule. “You look into your own heart, discover what gives you pain, and then refuse under any circumstances to inflict that pain on anyone else. Do not do to others what you would not like them to do to you” (56). A more entertaining version of it is in the story from the Jewish tradition told in the article:

The great Rabbi Hillel, an older contemporary of Jesus, was approached by a pagan who promised to convert to Judaism on the condition that Hillel recite the whole of Jewish teaching while standing on one leg. Hillel stood on one leg and said, “That which is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the Torah, everything else is only commentary. Go and study it. (56)

Imagine a world where people actually lived by the Golden Rule. There are those who are trying to get people to see a world where this is possible. If you go to the Charter for Compassion, http://charterforcompassion.org/share/the-charter/, you will find an actual charter for a compassionate world, a world where people put compassion before greed, before war, before having to be right.

We urgently need to make compassion a clear, luminous and dynamic force in our polarized world. Rooted in a principled determination to transcend selfishness, compassion can break down political, dogmatic, ideological and religious boundaries. Born of our deep interdependence, compassion is essential to human relationships and to a fulfilled humanity. It is the path to enlightenment, and indispensible to the creation of a just economy and a peaceful global community.

Living by the Golden Rule, to do unto others… I don’t think it has happened yet on a large scale in human history, but anything is possible.

It's Pseudo again! Head on over to Jen's at Sprite's Keeper for more spins on rules.

Let There Be Peace

2011-09-11T04:00:00.000-07:00

And let it begin...

with me

Amen

Sunset Surfing

2011-09-09T18:14:00.000-07:00

On the East Shore of Oahu is a cliff side community that looks out on Maunalua Bay.

Portlock.

Don't forget you can click on any photo to see it enlarged.

It's one of my, "if I ever could buy a house ANYWHERE, it might be here" dreams.

Homes start around $2,000,000 and go upwards to the sky. This photo isn't one I took, it's from a real estate ad...

However.

Anyone can go to China Walls. A little beach access between the million dollar mansions.

We went one afternoon last week to watch the big swell from Tahiti.

That's Diamond Head in the background...

Ah.

I'm late, but if you want to link up a cool little spot in your neck of the woods, please do.

Reach Out and Touch

2011-09-05T14:39:00.001-07:00

These are four of the nicest people I know. The dad, Joel, worked with me at Roy's back in the day. His smile was ever present, his laughter came through even on the most stressful of days, and his love for life was contagious.

Kirsten came to work with us at Roy's later. She is one of the coolest women I have ever known. Smart, funny, kind, and compassionate. And a whole lot of fun. One time I managed to slip out of motherly and wifey routines and escape with Kirsten and another friend to Maui for the weekend where we attended a workshop and stayed at a friend's house.

Great times. Absolutely wonderful memories.

******

Kirsten and Joel became best friends before they became serious. Their relationship started off on solid ground and turned into something huge and enduring.

My son was the ring bearer at their wedding. It goes down in my memory as best wedding ever. Everyone stayed until the end, dancing the night away in a hotel ballroom with a view of Waikiki and Diamond Head.

*****

I left Roy's to teach full time.

Kirsten went on to earn her Master's degree in clinical psychology.

Joel went into management.

Kirsten and Joel moved several times as he managed different restaurants. They ended up in Seattle with two beautiful little boys.

A year ago Joel was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of cancer.

Since then, Kirsten and Joel have been fighting hard for his life. He has been in remission and out and in remission again.

Then last week, the doctors told Kirsten if Joel wanted to come home and spend time with his friends and family, now would be the time. His liver cannot take any more chemo. They have been told that hospice might be the best choice right now.

Joel's come home to Hawaii.

We hope and pray for a miracle.

All prayers, visualizations, good wishes, are needed and welcome.

Joel's friends have set up this website to help the family out. Please visit. Offer them your love and prayers and if you can help them out through this most difficult time,

Thank-you.

And tell a friend.

This will be my photo essay for the Spin Cycle this week.

Sandy Beach on a Tuesday Afternoon

2011-09-04T01:00:00.000-07:00

We had some impressive waves on the South Shore last week.

On Tuesday afternoon, Hubs picked me up from work, swung me by the house for my camera, and scooted me off to take photos of the swell..

It was awesome.

Stay tuned for more photos from the "Tahiti Swell."

For more photo essays, head on over to Jen at Sprite's Keeper.

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter. - Mark Twain

2011-09-03T16:55:00.000-07:00

Well then.

Why is it that my capacity for remembering pretty much each and every conversation with my students is greater than several of the students’ capacity for remembering one sentence that comes out of my mouth?

You’ve been absent more days than you have been here. Here is a list of your missing work. I highlighted the assignments you will need to do in tutoring so I can help you. Please get started on the first one (as I hand it to him) and let me know if you have any questions or need help.

Three minutes later.

Miss. Ahhh. MISS.

Excuse me...

Mrs. Pseudo, I need help.

I get up from my desk and walk over.

What am I supposed to be doing?

The assignment I handed you.

Oh.

Phone conversation with irate mom.

Why does my son have a “0” for not turning in the form for free or reduced lunch?

Because he did not turn it in.

We don’t qualify for free or reduced lunch and there are a zillion forms at the beginning of the year. It takes me all night to fill out the ones he has to turn in. Why should I bother with something that isn’t mandatory?

I totally agree with you on this. Unfortunately, I have to keep a record of each of the zillion forms for every single one of my homeroom students. Otherwise, the front office sends me memos with lists of students I need to hound for those forms. The free or reduced lunch one is important as the powers that be use them for the data on the percentage of disadvantaged kids. The points are a way for me track if and when each form comes in. Besides,the points for that form don’t count for real. I told your son that.

Irony.

Whole chunks of my memory (I think it was good stuff too like names of cool people and random encounters) have gone missing to make room for the 10,000 conversations I have daily with students, parents, colleagues, and administrators.

SC + TTT + Late = Too busy to Blog

2011-08-26T07:37:00.000-07:00

When Jen said the spin topic this week was language, possible spins wove through my head all week.

Should I write about my love for foul language, (more so in writing than speech) and how newly invented words like Jan's Fuck-ton make my day and inspire me to write?

How about the doctoral student in my graduate rhetoric class, with her salt and pepper bob and grannie glasses, thrilling me to no end when she dryly gave a filibuster in class one day on the origin of the word fuck and how the upper-class British back in the day relegated the word into something bad and dirty to keep the classes distinct?

Should I write about how much I loved the book Bee Season and the whole idea of a mystical experience coming from the sounds that syllables make?

And, then. There is the enormous topic of home language versus Standard English and the place (or not) of home dialects in a classroom. This is a huge conversation in Hawaii, where pidgin English is the home language for most of its children.

It is inappropriate to tell children that their home language is "low" or "stupid," as in doing so it is equivalent to telling them that their parents and grandparents, their aunties and uncles - that all the people they love are stupid.

However.

If Standard English is not taught to these same kids, if they do not learn how to become bi-dialectical, how to code switch, how to discern where and when each language is appropriate; if pidgin is allowed to be the only language in the classroom, then the teacher is allowing a gate to be shut. Teaching them Standard English while respecting their home language allows them to pass through this gate into other worlds. It would not be fair to send these kids off to college and life thinking they will never need Standard English.

I could go on and on with this subject. It's a huge deal here. I could give examples of both ends of this debate or argue for my middle ground philosophy.

But I found this on YouTube and this girl says it so much better.

I hope you watched it all the way to the end, but if you did not, take this line with you today:

"Isn't that the meaning of life (or language) to understand one another

'mo bettah?"

For more spins, head on over to Jen at Sprite's Keeper.

If you wanted to link a travel post yesterday and noticed I wasn't around, go ahead and link up today!

TTT: Where ya going?

2011-08-17T21:06:00.001-07:00

Back in the day, as in my day, meaning the 1970’s (not the 1600’s as my students seem to think as when I was playing classical music while they worked one day I had a student who asked me if the music was from my “era…”).

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. Back in the day we used to say this:

Where you going?

Crazy. Wanna come with?

Anyways.

Today. Was. Surreal.

Incident number one.

Waiting for my daughter to pick me up from work and drop me at an appointment. She is late. I decide to take deep breaths and relax versus worry or get edgy. I am sitting on a bench under a gorgeous, humongous tree and starting to notice the little things. A bird, A breeze. A cloud floating by.

BAM!!! A fucking black bumble bee kamakazies like a rocket into my forehead. Not just anywhere on my forehead, but smack dab bull’s eye center on my third eye.

How not zen is that?

So then I’m sitting there wondering if the Universe is sending me a message to pay attention and stop zoning out. Perhaps it is a sign that my daughter is late because she’s been in an accident.

I see myself spinning off into a world of worry and pull myself in. It’s just a stupid fucking idiot bee.

So I go back into relax mode.

Incident number two.

I’m almost relaxed when I see a car slowing down. But it’s not the cute little car of Daughter’s. It’s a bright metallic SUV with dark tinted windows. The passenger window rolls down and a full out tita barks out the window, “You fucking getting in the car or what? I haven’t got all fucking day asshole.”

Seriously?

As far as I can see, I am the only one outside and part of my mind wonders if there is any way in hell my daughter sent scary ghetto woman to pick me up.

Maybe I should have been nicer to Daughter of late.

Then I hear someone behind me, “HEY! I had to go to the bathroom.”

A big blalah of a guy comes from two buildings behind me. Not sure what he is doing on campus at 3 PM, but he’s the type who pulls his white T-shirt up over his beer belly to cool it off.

Nice.

Incident number 3.

Daughter drops me off at my appointment. With my therapist. Which I started a few months ago when I thought the unbloggable was sure to overwhelm.

But since I don’t write about the unbloggable I guess I haven’t mentioned my therapist.

I walk into the office and go up to the receptionist’s desk to make my co-payment.

Hi. Psuedo here for 4 PM.

Ah, Dorothy?

Ah, no. Pseudo. Last Name. 4 PM

Oh, here. Christie, right?

Are you fucking kidding me? Do I look so looney tunes that I don’t even know my name?

Meanwhile, I am thinking that that is exactly what the people in the waiting room are thinking of me.

Then, it turns out I don’t have an appointment. Not for this week. The receptionist explains that she only has one week in her front desk version of all the doctor’s appointments.

I tell her to call me after she talks to my doctor and to let me know when my appointment is.

I call Daughter to come around and get me.

Waiting.

My phone rings and the receptionist calls me back and tells me that they are going to ask my doctor if she can’t take me since I’m there.

Now I don’t know if she said that because she made a mistake and I actually did have an appointment and she is trying to cover her ass.

Or if she thinks I need to come in…

I go every other week and although I swear it was two weeks ago that I went last, I cannot help but wonder if the last week has been such a busy hell storm that it just felt like two weeks.

I tell the receptionist I will wait for my appointed time thank-you very much. I want to go home.

Want to link up? Apparently I am being very generous with the term "travel" today.

Spin Cycle: Nature or Nurture?

2011-08-15T18:03:00.000-07:00

When I saw Jen's Spin Cycle topic this week, I thought, "Oh, that's a fuck-ton (thank-you Jan's son for my new word) to deal with."

As a parent, I've thought about and discussed this topic endlessly with friends as we watched our children grow; we were baffled at the differences in personalities of the siblings we were rearing in our homes.

As an educator I have seen the gamut. I worked several years in a high risk youth program in the most poverty stricken part of the island and seen resilient youth rise above the most horrid of environments, while the majority succumbed to the same.

I worked many years in a middle class community with teens who had many advantages and parents who had the types of expectations and boundaries that should have sent these kids off into the right direction. Many of them chugged on down the channel while others were hell bent to swim against the current and make a mess of their lives.

I've shaken my head at fellow educators (usually the childless ones) who barked platitudes about apples and trees. Sometimes kids are on a path that has nothing to do with what they learned at home.

During the unbloggable, a friend of mine who has a graduate degree in psychology recommended a book to me. The Soul's Code: In Search of Character and Calling by James Hillman. From Amazon review:

Hillman's work on soul has fed the public imagination with the nourishing idea that we are vastly deeper and more permeable to the influences around us than we may think. Here, Hillman discusses character and calling, introducing an "acorn theory" that claims that "each life is formed by its unique image, an image that is the essence of that life and calls it to a destiny." Borrowing the language of Plato's Myth of Ur, Hillman suggests that this imaginary sense of our lives or callings drives each of us like a personal daimon or force. Drawing on extraordinary lives from Judy Garland to Coco Chanel to Hitler, he describes the movements of the daimon, showing how it can use everything in our environment, from lucky accidents to bad movies, to allow the acorn to "grow down" and express itself in the real material of our lives. Without succumbing to oversimplification or wishful thinking, Hillman challenges the reductive "parental fallacy," the contention that our early experience with our parents determines our selves and our futures.

The book made sense to me and filled in a bit of the gap between nature and nurture and added that something else. For more spins on this topic, head on over to Sprite's Keeper.

Love and aloha going out

2011-08-14T15:32:00.000-07:00

Sending some linky love to my daughter and this funny post she wrote. She's a keeper. Today she was off to Zumba and then the gym with her sling.

Also, my sis is the weekend recipe poster for WeYuMe and her post this week uses photos I sent her from the pineapple fields!

TTT: Everybody's gone surfing....

2011-08-11T08:33:00.000-07:00

Today's Travel post (yes, I'm trying to get back in the Thursday habit), takes you to Honolulu's own Ala Moana Shopping Center. We did a tour of the surf stores there this summer when we took the boy shopping for his birthday.

What? You're surprised we have surf stores here?

In the Mainland, you folks probably call these flip flops or something else. While you are in Hawaii remember to call them slippers. Here Daughter is playing host to a rack of high end stuff.

If I was spending money on myself that day I might have bought these:
However, one thing I love about living over here is that it is perfectly acceptable to wear rubber slippers just about anywhere. Don't judge me that I am not a shoe person.

I took these photos especially for Captain Dumbass. I actually thought about buying him the T-shirt "zombies love nerds," but we were shopping for Teen Boy after all and we were on a teachers-got-a-pay-cut budget. Weirdly, Teen Boy would not give up a birthday T for a blogger friend of his mom's. I assumed as I actually did not ask him.

Cool art peice in the back of a store. Hubs knew who this was but I forgot already.

A better blogger would have taken a photo of each store's sign before she went in, then organized this post accordingly.

This next store is HIC, or Hawaiian Island Creations. Their board shaper is Eric Arakawa and these boards are moving around on a conveyor belt like a Disney Ride.

And the awesome longboards...

Got Travel? A favorite haunt in your neck of the woods? Link on up....

Spin Cycle: Shut Me UP!

2011-08-10T08:26:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think we are here just to overcome our bad habits. The obstacles, the challenges, the suffering. It's all just a way to point us towards what we need to work on.

But that just might be me.

At any rate, Jen's spin topic this week is bad habits and I have such a wealth to choose from it's taken me a day or two to narrow it down.

I'll go with a bad habit that I actually have been working on for over 25 years.

Bad habit: interrupting others.

Goal: be a better listener.

When I first moved to Hawaii I did not realize the conversational habits that I grew up with were not the best. I come from a loud family where people interrupt each other constantly. Finishing each others' thoughts.

People in Hawaii are quieter as a rule, better listeners, more humble than the native LA crowd I grew up with...

The first time someone straight up told me I had interrupted him and it was not so much appreciated, I have to admit I was a little taken aback. Slightly offended. Did he not realize what a compliment it was that I was so excited about what he was saying, so excited that I knew where he was going, so happy to be able to not only finish his thought but add my own to it...

Yeah. I was THAT person.

When I realized it I decided I did not want to be that person.

However, it's not been easy. Bad habits are hard to work out of oneself.

So I have been working on being a better, more compassionate, listener for 25 years now.

Ironically, it irritates me to be around interrupters or conversation hoggers these days.

That's why I had to add in the compassion component.

For more Spins on bad habits, head on over to Sprite's Keeper!

She's Awesome

2011-08-07T13:15:00.000-07:00

And I made her....

Daughter is blogging. Apparently she's been at it for awhile, but only told me yesterday. She's eclectic, funny, and fun.

I like this post from her nanny adventures.

This post from her restaurant job.

This one where she mentions me.....

Please check her out. She's new to this! She could use a follower or two.

Spin Cycle: Back to School

2011-08-02T23:23:00.001-07:00

As much as I love summer, once the students walk in the door, I realize how blessed I am to be able to do what I do. and not think of politics and pay cuts

I usually start off by having the students write me a letter telling me about themselves. That way I can get a writing sample and get to know them both. Win win.

So I'll share some randoms from their letters. Jen gave us a free spin this week on the old cycle.

My favorite subject in school is language arts...

My goal is to be smart in school, but I need to warn you Ms Pseudo, I'm not perfect...

My dream is to be a professional violinist...

I want to be a doctor to help sick people and save lives, but I also want to be a singer, and I am hoping I can do both...

My favorite thing is to go to the beach with my family because we are happy and my parents forget their worries...

Since my dad passed away I have been doing bad in school...

My favorite subject is math and my least favorite is language arts. In language arts you don't have any formulas.

My favorite thing to do this summer was to play with my cousins and roll down the hell...

As a student I guess I am alright. I have my good days, but if I am acting like a punk, just warn me on the side and I will behave...

For more free spins, head on over to Jen at Sprite's Keeper!

Spin Cycle: Food, Whole and Raw and Healthy

2011-07-19T18:24:00.000-07:00

Well, Jen asked us to spin about food this week, and although I do love to cook and my family enjoys my cooking, I am not one to follow a recipe and that makes posting a recipe difficult.

Plus, I cannot compare with my blogger friends like Michele or Jan (Jan is even writing a cookbook).

My sister is a talented photographer and cook and after guest posting a recipe or two on Weyume, they asked her to be the Saturday and Sunday recipe blogger. Check her out!

So, I am going to do something a little different with this post and do a little advertising. I took down my blogher ads awhile ago and I have stayed away from marketers asking me to do reviews or provide a link.

But today’s post is advertising something I do (and eat) for ME.

Mila...

This is what a bag looks like.... this large bag lasts one month.

My story goes like this: a friend passed a bag of Mila to me last December. Mila is a whole, raw food. It is made from the chia seed, and is the absolute highest quality, proprietary blend of chia seeds. My friend had in mind my son, who had recently been diagnosed with depression and was going through a very difficult time. She thought it might help him as she knew several people who felt strongly that Mila helped them with depression and other mood disorders.

Breakfast: nonfat plain Greek yogurt with honey and a coop of Mila

Mila is ground up and appears a lot like ground up flax seed. It is odorless and tasteless and can be put into just about anything.

My husband and I began eating a scoop a day right away. The teen boy is a fussy eater and it was more difficult to get the Mila regularly into his diet; however, my husband and I felt the difference within two weeks.

My story. I was four years past chemo, but had never been regular since. Without sounding like an old lady who is obsessed with her bowel movements, suffice it to say that when one does not poop for days at a time, it becomes a focus. Along with irregularity also came fatigue and more migraines than ever before.

Days after incorporating Mila into my diet I was as regular as a clock. Soon I also noticed an increase in energy. I dropped weight (I had gained weight with the irregularity years). I am now down to not only my pre-chemo weight, but down to my pre-forties weight. I went from 158 pounds to 138 pounds in the last six months.

See, the Mila looks like this...

After two months of eating Mila daily, my migraines and accompanying neck pain started decreasing in frequency. My Imitrex prescription now lasts three times as long.

My cholesterol was borderline high and I would go in for blood tests every six months. My last blood test, my cholesterol had fallen into the normal range.

My husband’s Mila story. He stopped with the energy drinks since he began eating Mila; instead of a Red Bull or Monster, he drinks a scoop of Mila mixed with juice or water before he goes to work.

I mix the Mila, honey and yogurt together before I add my toppings.

This summer I have been home and able to prepare my son’s food. I sprinkle the Mila into his hash browns and rice and anything else I prepare. Instead of a scoop at a time (unless I make him a protein shake), I sprinkle his scoop in various foods throughout the day. I combine it in meatballs, stews, curries, just about everything. I believe the Mila combined with surfing daily has been making a huge difference in my son’s health.

A few months ago I decided to become a distributor. At first, I just wanted to be able to buy the Mila at a distributor’s discount. However, I like the business model of the Lifemax Company and have been working the business end this summer. My cost was in the amount of bags of Mila I purchased to share with others. I pass a bag on to those who I ask and who show interest. If they like the product, they can buy more from my website. If they want to join me and become a distributor, that’s great too. I get to work with friends and people I like.

My favorite toppings for breakfast are granola and blueberries.

The worst thing that can happen is I turned on someone for free to a whole raw food for a month. That’s not a bad thing at all. Like planting seeds of goodness both literally and metaphorically.

So, Mila is the biggest food change in my life at this juncture. I’m loving it.

If you would like nutritional information, click here.

If you would like to read testimonials, click here.

To see my website, click here.

If you are interested in trying some Mila, let me know in the comment thread and make sure your email is linked and not “no reply”

For more food spins, head on over to Sprite’s Keeper (Jen puts the links up on Friday).

TTT: Traveling While Cruising

2011-07-13T23:00:00.000-07:00

I've actually taken a load of photos for Traveling Thursdays this summer.

But.

The effort of going through them, selecting, etc.

Has got me skipping posting on Thursdays the last two weeks.

I do have a tip though.

While cruising in a beach chair on a lazy day, make sure you recline and do some cloud watching like you did when you were a kid. It's very relaxing.

And you might just see a flying horse if you're lucky.

Got a tip for how to feel like you are on vacation even when you stay home? An actual trip? Any and all posts in the general genre of living life like a beach are welcome.

Spin Cycle: Puppies and Unicorns and Sunrises, Oh MY

2011-07-11T10:54:00.000-07:00

The Spin Cycle this week is, literally, "puppies and unicorns." Jen helped us out by this explanation, "What makes you smile? What brings up your spirits?"

Here's the puppy (who turned four this year) who makes me happy and brings up my spirits. He is the sweetest, happiest, most fun companion. His job is not just my spirits, but the entire family's. And he is good at his job. He's had a lot of practice at it these last 18 months, and is sometimes responsible for keeping us grounded through the unbloggable.

click on any photo to see it enlarged...

For a little extra boost, the Border Collie and I take hikes with views. You folks have seen this one before.

I'm sharing my favorite rest stop with you. Half-way up (OK, actually about every 20 stairs or so), I stop and rest. My favorite cactus and the sunrise.

There are extra visual treats, like watching these giant birds descend from the hill and fly up and out to the ocean for their day. If you look close behind the cloud, you can see the moon.

When we get to the top, this is our view. Imagine doing your morning sunrise yoga to this. On a clear day, you can see Molokai and Maui on the horizon.

There's my puppy again, sniffing the wind while I sit down to take some deep breaths. I put on my I-shuffle and listen to this while I set my mind on the horizon...........

For more spins, head on over to Jen at Sprite's Keeper.

Spin Cycle: A Story of Forgiveness

2011-07-06T12:49:00.001-07:00

I was not raised in a home that modeled forgiveness. Grudge holding, name calling, and judgment were more the norm. Before my parents divorced, during the years leading up to their divorce, many nights were a litany of wrongs and recriminations.

In such an atmosphere, one might be inclined to blame others when something goes to the shit can.

Or to deny, to feign ignorance, to rationalize rightness for a wrong doing.

Because when they weren’t all over each other’s ass, my parents need to criticize, to judge, to condemn, could be focused elsewhere.

And, why admit to fucking up when it only meant a tirade of verbal malevolence? Not just at that time, but ammunition that would be brought up over and over again. Not just when you made a similar mistake, but also, sometimes, just for family fun – which in our home often meant teasing gone wild.

So, no, I did not learn the way of forgiveness from my family.

But this story is not of my own learning the value of forgiveness…

To understand the degree of my parents’ hostility and unforgiveness of each other, let me mention the following.

For years and years after their divorce, I avoided any and all trigger words which I had learned would lead to either of them going off on a tangent about the other. I knew by heart every story of every misdeed and had also learned (sometimes the hard way) what I might say that would trigger one of these stories.

When I married it was a small wedding in Tahoe and my sisters asked me which of our parents I was planning on inviting. This was 14 years after their divorce and the last time they had seen each other had been in court….

Did I mention that they took each other to court, back and forth and forth and back, until they reached the California Supreme Court about one detail they would not compromise on….and that through this process, every dime and every bit of equity they had acquired in their 22 years together was gobbled up in attorney fees….

So. When my sisters asked me this question I said, “I’m inviting them both.”

Gasp. Shock. Horror. Disbelief.

“Oh. My. God.”

“They’ll make a scene.”

“They’ll ruin your wedding.”

“Mom won’t come if Dad is there.”

“Dad won’t come if Mom is there….”

“Well, then. They can both fuck off. It’s my wedding and if they cannot be civil, if they cannot realize it is about me and my soon to be hubs and not them, if either of them has a problem with that, then they shouldn’t come at all.”

They both came.

The never said a word to each other, but they came and did not make a scene.

Over the years, they became more OK with each other.

This still did not stop them from making the occasional verbal jab, of reverting to the old war wounds even decades later.

My dad died in 2003.

In 2007 I went to a psychic reading with a group of women friends. It was a circle of eight and I was quiet and observant. The psychic had her eyes closed and went about her business, giving messages to the women in a random order. I was last and figured since I wasn’t saying anything I might not be noticed. I was fearful and wished I hadn't come. I was one year away from cancer and not sure if I wanted to know what lay ahead.

“You, the quiet one, I want you to know you are going to be fine. You have a relative here, and she says she is with you and loves you.”

“My grandmother?”

“She calls herself BeKing…???”

“Bahquine?” What my sisters and I called our paternal grandmother…

“She’s smiling. Yes. Bahquine. Do you have any questions for her?”

“How’s my dad doing up there? Has she seen him?”

Psychic frowning.

“Your Bahquine says not to worry. Your dad is…. In Between. When he died, he had a lot of anger, fear, and unforgiveness, it made it difficult for him. But your loved ones are surrounding him and will continue to until he lets go of his anger and is ready to move on."

That really tripped me out big time.

Last year I went to another psychic reading, a different one, a friend of a friend. I went with a friend. This time I did have a question. It was about moving. Or not moving.

But the psychic was of little help on that one and gave it a shrug.

Then.

“Someone is here. It’s your dad and he has a message for you.”

“Uh…” Do I have to?

“He says he’s trying to help you and your sisters by helping your mom. He is trying to reach her in her dreams and tell her he’s sorry, to ask her forgiveness and let her know that if she lets go of her anger (at the time my mom was being quite a handful as we moved her towards assisted living) she will be fine.”

At the time, all I could think was, “Good luck with that Dad. Mom sees you coming in her dreams, she will high tail it out of there faster than a rabbit glimpsing a wolf.”

Seeing as how we had uber shit going on with my mom at the time, I never mentioned the psychic’s message to her.

July 4th, 2011. I am talking to my mom (this is huge, she wasn’t talking to any of us for months). But now, she pretends last year never happened. She is happy in her assisted living home. She tells me she has great friends, she sits at the fun table (translation: popular)at meals, goes to movie night every night, and loves just sitting in her apartment and reading by the hour.

I’m happy for her.

I accidentally say something that triggers her into a rant about my evil father and his wayward ways.

I become brave and say to her that I try and stay away from negativity these days, that I forgave my father any and all wrong doings many years ago, and perhaps maybe she should too.

I tell her I would rather talk about something else.

Then she says the strangest thing.

She tells me she has had dreams about my father often the last year. That it “scares the shit out of her.”

She tells me he is reaching out his hand to her, but she never takes hold and turns away instead.

She asks me if I think if she forgives him, will the dreams stop…

I tell her maybe she should take his hand in the dream and see what happens.

For more forgiveness spins, head on over to Jen at Sprite's Keeper.

Spin Cycle: A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes....

2011-06-28T18:17:00.000-07:00

HOWEVER....

If wishes were horses,

beggars would ride....

The Spin Cycle this week is "wishes."

I believe in dreams, in hopes, in prayer...

But, sometimes bad shit just happens. Perhaps, in the bigger picture we will understand why.

So far in this life, I have had to work exhaustively and still never seem to get ahead.

However, I can also be content for the little moments of grace, of beauty, of joy, and of love.

I can be thankful for my health, my family, my home, my freedom, the fact that I live in paradise.

But Jen asked us to make a wish so here we go......

If I could wish for something I would wish that the teaching profession stopped being a punching bag for negative commentary in this country.

That parents talked about the good teachers that their children have had as much as the shitty ones.

That those who send their children to private school would realize that the state of public education and those kids in it will still effect their lives and their children's lives.

I would wish that along with this, the colleges of education would make it more difficult to become an educator.

That it would be less difficult to get rid of shitty teachers (however, I have had my share of shitty doctors, so it is NOT just the teaching profession where it is difficult to get rid of the riff raff).

I would wish that teachers were paid enough so we could stop defending our choice to be a teacher (even to our families) and not have to work second jobs just to make ends meet.

I would wish that the educational political pendulum would stop swinging back and forth and find the middle ground.

I would wish that some parents would see the benefit in parenting their children instead of fighting to be enablers of their kids' worst habits.

That those same parents were old school and understood that sometimes the hard lessons are the best.

I would wish that friends knew it is not cool to say things like,

OMG Pseudo! Don't ever tally up how many hours you work and divide it by your salary. You'll get too depressed.

Or...

Well, YOU are an exception, you have to admit, MOST teachers don't work that hard...

I will end this by saying that most teachers work very, very hard. That for every hour we spend in front of our students we spend at least another hour prepping that lesson and another hour assessing that lesson. We go to endless meetings and make endless phone calls. We read to keep up with our profession.

I work an average of 55-70 hours during the school year. During the breaks I catch up on my grading and prepping.

During the summer I take classes and workshops. I read young adult literature and I prepare lessons for the next SY.

K. I'll get off the soapbox now. Don't blame me, Jen said we could make a wish.

For more spins, head on over to Sprite's Keeper.

TTT: Love, Aloha, and Weddings....

2011-06-22T21:37:00.000-07:00

Today's travel tip? If you are planning a wedding, think about getting married in Hawaii.

You can play this in the background for mood music. Hawaiian Wedding Song is played at many of the weddings I have gone to over here. This video is from Youtube, not the wedding this post is about, but you get the idea. Right?

I went to a wedding last week at the Hau Terrace at the Halekulani Hotel. It is a gorgeous venue; the room looks right out at the ocean and Diamond Head.

There is a patio outside and this is where the couple was married, then we had cocktails and pupus while we watched the sunset and beach goers. Meanwhile, the wedding party had their photos taken.

Pretty awesome.

Standing by our little cocktail table, this was our view.....

Around sunset, the sailboats come back. Just imagine a slight breeze, Hawaiian music playing, the smell of flowers and ocean in the air... And the Mai Tai's at the Halekulani are A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

Looking back at the Hau Terrace, you can not only see the patio, but two of my favorite people in the world. I've known these ladies since 1982.

That's the bride with her mama and her aunties. We all worked with her mom at Bobby McGees in the 1980's. This is what cocktail waitresses grow into. Except for the bride of course. She is a Harvard grad and her mom and dad are rightfully proud of her.

The wedding was the most magical wedding I have ever been to. A beautiful ceremony outside, followed by cocktails and pupus. As we were ushered inside to our tables, the room was lit with the rose colored lens of the sunset. The tables and flowers were elegant, the food at the buffet was to die for.... Everything was perfect. I wish I had a video of the bride dancing hula for her new husband. Then you would know what I mean.

You see those first two women to the right of the bride? That's Pam and Susan and they are event managers and were responsible for helping mom, dad, and the bride pull off this amazing wedding. Susan is the owner of Aloha Wedding Planners and Pam has worked for her a long time. If you want the best event managers for your Hawaii wedding, give them a call and tell them Psuedo sent you.

The bride and groom were adorable. Such wonderful young people. They both made me cry when they hit the podium and gave their thankful speeches.

Mama and Bride

The happy wedding party

Got a travel post? A wedding post? Best place to go in your part of the world? Mr. Linky, take us away!

Spin Cycle: Summer Reads

2011-06-20T00:24:00.000-07:00

Jen asked us to spin book recommendations this week. I so have this one, which is nice as I failed last week's alien assignment.

I LOVE reading, especially during the summer.

For book club two months ago, we read Under the Banner of Heaven, A Story of Violent Faith.
Fascinating nonfiction book by the author who wrote Into the Wild, which I also enjoyed. Under the Banner of Heaven weaves together the history of the Mormon religion and the fundamentalist Mormon movement, as well as showing why these two groups have problems with each other, despite their shared history. Incorporated into this is the story of the murder of a young woman and her 15 month old baby girl who were killed by the woman's brother-in-laws, Ron and Dan Lafferty. Although disturbing, it is well written, extremely well researched, and I'd highly recommend this book.

When my daughter saw that book lying around she stole it out from under me for several days and then recommended I read a book she bought, The 19th Wife. This book also incorporates the history of the Mormon religion but does so through fiction. I fell in love with Ann Eliza, the actual 19th wife of Brigham Young, who escaped the confines of early Salt Lake City and polygamy and spoke out against polygamy in lectures and in her memoirs. Her story is intertwined with a 21st century murder in a fundamentalist compound.

These books are a whole lot better than watching Sister Wives on TLC.

For more spins, head on over to Sprite's Keeper.

TTT: Rock'n the Sushi

2011-06-15T18:34:00.001-07:00

As you may imagine, there is a plethora of excellent Asian and Asian-inspired cuisines here in Hawaii. Japanese and sushi restaurants abound, from expensive high-end establishments to a local sushi chain which runs its fare on a mini convey-belt around the restaurant and by the tables and bar.

There is one sushi bar, which I know only by reputation, not being able to afford the high-end prices ( I have heard it will run one about $100 per person for dinner there). The reputation is not about the prices, but experiencing the "Nazi-sushi Chef." Word on the street is you will get yelled at and possibly even asked to leave if you drown his sushi in shoyu or commit other crimes of sushi.

I've always wanted to go and get absolutely screamed at, just for the fun of it. But not enough to pay $100 for the experience.

Today's TTT is featuring our family's favorite place for everything sushi.

California Beach Rock'n Sushi

We had heard about it for years, and finally dropped in one day last year.

We had an excellent experience and have been back several times since, most recently (today) to celebrate Son's 19th birthday.

Come along for the birthday lunch!

You can click on any photo to enlarge

The sushi chefs are amazing. The first trip we had a chef not pictured above, who wasn't here today. The chefs are all wonderfully talented and we have never been disappointed.

We prefer to sit at the bar, but there are also tables in the restaurant.

Couldn't be ROCKN without artwork of rockers, yes?

The last two times we have had Jesse as our sushi chef. He's amazing and we love to watch him create the dishes. Last trip we watched him make these cool shots of something totally intriguing and asked him what it was.

"Not on the menu, just something I made up"

Of course we had to try it.
We had two today. Just hubs and I. The grown children are not as adventurous. I asked Jesse what was in it.

"Everything good," was his reply.
That's a quail egg. There is also an oyster. Not sure what else. Very tasty.

We have this EVERY TIME. It is hamachi, thinly sliced, in a light ponzu sauce, with chilies and cherry tomatoes. So awesome.

This is the best misoyaki butterfish I have ever had. And I order misoyaki butterfish at every Japanese restaurant we go to. The spinach underneath is to die for and I don't even usually even like cooked spinach.

Lobster roll with dynamite sauce

Tamanaha roll. So good. California roll, panko-crusted, topped with ahi, and the signature hot lava sauce. Son ordered this one and I could hardly snap a photo before he dove in.

The Principal Roll. Fried onions on top.

Today's travel took you to our favorite sushi restaurant for Son's 19th birthday lunch.

Got travel? Tips on living like it's vacation at home? Link on up!

TTT: Save Laborless Labor Day Retreat

2011-06-09T11:52:00.000-07:00

My favorite travel posts that I’ve put up here are probably about my favorite beach on this island. Not only is it a picture-perfect pristine beach, but it is filled with memories from the last twenty-five years.

Remember, you can click on any photo to enlarge...

My husband and I discovered it while dating and it became a favorite spot right away. Our day off ritual during the summers, when the giant waves receded and the ocean became our own private salt-water, snorkeling wonderland, were most often spent on this beach.

When I graduated from UH with my BA, we rented a beach house and stayed for two weeks with friends and family to celebrate. I love the photos from this trip (but not enough to go digging through boxes). That was 1988 and my friends and I all still had youth on our sides. We’d actually pose in our swim suits. My sister was working as a bartender in Florida at the time, and at the beach house she’d use her mad skills to make us the yummiest Pina Colodas in the tropics. She’d blend them like ice cream shakes, garnish them with fresh pineapple, and bring them down to us on the beach at sunset. We’d stretch out on our lounges like a string of Ban de Solie sun worshipers and sip our drinks through straws; then, with a nice little buzz, we’d all dive in for one last swim before we retreated to the deck for dinner.

Two years later my dad rented that same beach house for a family gathering to celebrate the birth of my daughter. I remember the first evening was surreal in its serendipitous and mystical magic. A few nights earlier I had dreamed that I was visiting with my Uncle (who had passed away several years before). I was flying through the clouds, just floating along and I ran into him. We sat cross legged on a cloud and he told me he was so glad we were all going to get to spend time together and for “us girls” to take care of our dad (his younger brother). During this dream in the clouds it was sunset and the colors were so magnificent that when I woke up it had stayed with me for hours. Crimson, mauve, purple, gold, and dusky blue in long sweeping strokes and swirls. It was like being inside an impressionist painting, but instead of Mary Poppin’s London version, I was immersed in the soul of the Universe.

That first night at the beach house I had my four-month old baby girl on my hip and was whipping up something in the kitchen when everyone called me to come outside and see the sunset. It was like stepping into a rose tinted glass ball. It was, to a tee, the exact sunset from my dream. I had no doubt by Uncle was up there smiling down at us.

Fast forward sixteen years later and several of my friends decided to rent a beach house on the North Shore for Labor Day weekend. This was the summer of 2006, the year I had been diagnosed with breast cancer. That summer I had just finished chemotherapy and had begun radiation treatments. As one of my friends put it to me, “We’ve been talking about doing this for years and your getting sick made us realize we can’t put things like this off. We need to do it while we are all still alive to enjoy it.”

They selected a house with a lanai (deck) that was perched high with an amazing view, but was surrounded by palm trees and made you feel like you were in a tree house. This was especially important for me as I was not supposed to be in the sun during radiation treatments. They selected the house because the beach was to die for: sapphire blue sparkling water perfect for snorkeling, a wide sandy beach with an endless walk for exercise (if one was inclined) and shell collecting. They selected the house as it was affordable and the property manager was willing to rent it to us for the weekend versus many of the houses that wouldn’t rent for less than a week.

And yes. Coincidentally, they rented the exact same house I had rented with my family on two very special vacations all those years before. My friends had picked the exact beach and house that were my favorite on the entire island.

We called it Laborless Labor Day and have been returning without husbands, without children, and having a glorious time for three glorious days and nights these last five years.

Last year the woman who owned the house passed away.

Her adult children selected a new property manager.

The new property manager raised the price considerably and will not rent to us for the mere three days.

We are trying to save Laborless Labor Day weekend. Perhaps it is not meant to be and time is moving us toward other adventures.

But I am giving it a bit of a fight first and emailing a link to this post and all comments to the new property manager.

Leave a comment if you would like me to post from our special beach house this Labor Day!

Please link on up with your own travel tips, adventures; stories from the past, present or future. Daycations and staycations.

Spin Cycle: Renovating and Redoing One's Life

2011-06-06T10:28:00.000-07:00

When we bought our home in 1993, we had no fuckin’ idea what we were in for. Becoming homeowners in Hawaii was a huge, huge blessing; but blessings come with challenges. We worked in Honolulu, but the new homes, the “affordable homes,” were being built on the West Side, the Second City.

After ten years of commuting, of working two jobs, of working two jobs while going to grad school, of working two jobs while going to grad school and raising two children, of getting by on 5-6 hours of sleep a night for years – after ten years we were able to refinance and renovate.

The beige, track-house curtains which were frayed were replaced with blinds.

The beige carpet that our children and all the neighborhood kids had trampled for years was replaced – downstairs with a dark laminate flooring, kitchen and bathrooms with stone like tile, upstairs and stairs with carpet.

Our garage sale, mismatched living room furniture moved out and our first couch set was purchased.

We painted every single room and left the world of white behind.

We put in crown molding downstairs. So pretty.

We relandscaped our yard and put in automatic sprinklers, providing us with an extra hour a day we no longer had to hand water. The West Side is dry and hot and nothing like what most people imagine when they think of Hawaii.

It took months. Our marriage had not been given previous opportunities to explore our differences in tastes. It was vast, like a great desert separating two foreign lands.

We set out across that desert to find our oasis somewhere in the middle.

The kids started out thrilled and excited with visiting furniture stores, flooring stores, home depot stores; running through and laying claim to whole rooms at a time.

Hubs and I sat on couches by the hours. Comfortability, design, and a couch that we both approved of became the Holy Grail of quests.

The children started opting to stay home with rolling eyeballs when we went out on renovating excursions.

However.

It happened.

We both loved the final outcome.

And then life throws one a curve ball.

One adjusts.

One rents out the renovated home, which looks like a track home on a zero lot line on the outside and looks like a custom – this is our house and yes we did put in crown molding – on the inside.

One moves to the other side of the island, where one rents a home because one cannot afford to buy over here.

A family takes a leap of faith.

The old home had a postage stamp size of a backyard.

The rental has a humongous yard.

This summer, I want to do some yard renovating.

But. Money is tight and it is not practical to spend money on a yard we do not own.

I’m taking suggestions….

This box was in the yard and I got rid of the piles of trash and leaves, put in some soil and started growing arugula. Planning to put other lettuces in those blank spots.

There is a river that runs behind the house that was made into a cement river decades ago. My daughter bought this plant (which I don't remember the name) and it is supposed to grow and climb all over the fence to provide some privacy from the neighbors yard behind us.

That big tall one in the middle is okra. There is also lavendar on the far right. Some of these plants need to get in the ground, put the ground is so hard and dense, with kiawe roots and rocks, that it takes two hours to dig one hole.

A baby papaya tree we planted last week. We still need to weed the ground around it.

The side yard is huge. The renters before us used it to keep a big boat. This planter is overgrown and a mess but on our to do list this summer.

BC loves having a yard. But when asked to help, he sticks tongue at me. Really.

For more Spins head on over to Sprite's Keeper. The list of Spins go up on Saturday, but checkout last week's spins as well, "Waiting."

Looking at the stirrups...

2011-05-28T20:19:00.000-07:00

I closed up my classroom for the summer yesterday....

I'm hoping to get back to the blog. It's got some competition with other summer projects, but I am looking at the stirrups and thinking about climbing back on this lil' ol pony.

I feel like I am starting over and in that respect I'd like to ask anyone who wants to be in the blog roll over there to the right to leave a comment.

I'm redoing and reorganizing and, hopefully, getting back to public pondering.

Aloha and happy summer.

The Beauty Chorus: Guest Post Equals Published Author

2011-04-24T13:33:00.000-07:00

Hey there. I know I've been MIA again and missed a TTT, but I'm working on it. I've got a travel post on the back burner for next week, a little trip through Waikiki.

Meanwhile. Happy Easter! Happy Spring! Happy New Beginnings.

I've got a treat for you all. One of the first bloggers I met out here, Kate - from What Kate Did Next - has her debut novel out and has generously guest posted for me in my absence. Kate is amazing. Enjoy....

* * * * *

Hello everyone – and thank you to Pseudo for hosting me today. In her honour, I’d like us to consider teachers. Sometimes I think school teachers must have the patience of saints. Maybe you are the same, but I find two children quite enough of a handful. Leading up to the publication of my first book I’ve been thinking a lot about the amazing people who held my hand as I learnt, and opened my eyes to the beauty of words.

Really great teachers change children's lives – I know a few of mine did.
While scores of other teachers have been forgotten, I often think of the remarkable men and women who inspired me, who taught me that words, that art matters just as much as quadratic equations and the Periodic table.

There was Mr S, who swept through the flagstone corridors of my senior school, black gown flapping. He was formidable, rigorous – but when he smiled he looked like Alfred E Neumann’s grandfather. He rolled the words of Chaucer and Auden round his mouth with relish like gobstoppers, and he wasn’t averse to flinging a blackboard eraser at the head of anyone who wasn’t paying attention. He also gave me the nickname that stuck the whole way through school – Claude.

And what about Mrs G, our English teacher at prep school? It was rumoured she knocked off steamy bestsellers for Mills & Boon when she wasn’t teaching wide-eyed schoolgirls about D H Lawrence, Byron and Shelly.

Who were your great teachers? Looking back and knowing now just how wonderful but tough it is coping with your own children half the time, I think I admire them more than I ever did.

During a tutorial, I remember Mr S wistfully saying one day as he gazed out of the old stone window across the frozen quadrangle: ‘Claude, sometimes when I look at the essays I wrote in Cambridge, it amazes me that I was ever capable of such dazzling work.’ Maybe that is what great teachers do – they take that fire, that dazzling enthusiasm and pass it on like a torch to the next generations. Some of the kids will let the torch sputter and die, but some of them will take it and run like the wind.

Kate Lord Brown’s début ‘The Beauty Chorus’ is being published by Corvus Atlantic 1/4/11 http://thebeautychorus.blogspot.com

Available at Amazon

THE BEAUTY CHORUS – PUBLISHER’S OUTLINE:

Romance, glamour and adventure in the skies: an enthralling debut inspired by female pilots in World War Two. 166 women signed up to fly Spitfires and bombers from factories to airfields across the country. It was an adventure that would cost many their lives.

New Year’s Eve 1940: Evie Chase, the beautiful debutante daughter of an RAF commander, listens wistfully to the swing music drifting out from the ballroom. With bombs falling nightly in London, she is determined to make a difference to the war effort. Evie joins the ATA – the civilian pilots who ferry fighter planes to bases across war-torn Britain. Two other women wait nervously to join up with her – Stella Grainger, a forlorn young mother from Singapore, and Megan Jones, an idealistic teenager who has never left her Welsh village before. Billeted together in a tiny cottage, Stella, Megan and Evie learn to live and work together as they find romance, confront loss and forge friendships that last a lifetime.

Green Travels

2011-04-14T09:04:00.000-07:00

Today's tip is short and sweet. Oahu has a great transit system via The Bus. If you come on a budget and don't have a rental car, don't be afraid to hop on.

I sold my car when we moved to town and have been riding the bus. I have a lot of scribbles in a notebook that have as yet to be written into posts.

Got a travel post? A tip of where to go near your home or state? A photo post? You can link on up, and the post does not have to be written today....

Contest Winners and Chameleon Weirdness

2011-04-10T17:44:00.000-07:00

Random number generator selected numbers 7 and 2, in that order, as the winners of the last post's contest..

Congratulations to Mama Badger and Kristan. I'll be emailing you for your addresses.

* * *

Meanwhile, weird little story.

In our entry hall, we have some fake bamboo (in our yard we have a huge garden of the real stuff).

Yesterday, Hubs says all frantically, "Holy shit, there's a chameleon in the bamboo."

And there was. Don't look for it in that shot up above, didn't get the shot.

Lying along a stalk like he thought it was the real stuff.

We had no idea how it got there.

We were late to an event with a time frame, so we left it there. I wanted to come back and get a photo of it.

When we returned home, I had forgotten about the little guy.

In this shot, notice BC's water and food bowls and how they sit next to the bamboo....

So.

We get home and Hubs is all in another upset.

Did I mention he can't handle lizards? Geckos. Chameleons. I am in charge of catching them and taking them outside. He thinks nothing of the giant cockroaches over here and will smash one silly. Which totally grosses me out.

In our marriage he is the cockroach killer and I am the lizard catcher.

But I digress.

Hubs is freaking out because the chameleon had somehow landed in BC's water bowl.

OK. Just picture a lizard lying across this.

I was really bummed and felt a bit responsible for the horrible drowning. Hubs could not bring himself to lift the water bowl with the dead chameleon floating on top.

When I did, the little fucker started swimming and clawing up the sides.

I have to say it was a bit startling.

However, I carried the bowl outside and poured the water slowly onto the real bamboo and the chameleon jumped on out and found himself a stalk.

I swear he looked right at me and I think I heard a faint thank-you muchly.

Travel Tip Thursday is back...

2011-04-07T07:18:00.000-07:00

When I said I was gimping and limping back into blogging, I wasn't fooling around. Back in the day, Travel Tip Thursday went up Wednesday night. That's because even though I started this post at 4 AM here in Hawaii (and it looks like it will go up about 5 - what with the uploading of photos) you folks on the Mainland are way ahead of me in time.

But I get home from work late, often to a hectic home, sometimes to unbloggable, and there you go.

Anyways. There's a small kind contest going on. Those of you linking travel posts can win a cookbook or cocktail recipe book.

I have posted this hike before, but it has been awhile. I have my new camera, new photos, and this hike is such a metaphor for my life these days. The steep stair climb. The moments of reflection and deep breaths.

Welcome to the Koko Crater stairs.......

Link on up!

Book Contest

2011-04-03T19:24:00.000-07:00

As I gimp my way back into a blogging schedule, I am going to stick my neck out and say Traveling Thursdays will return this week.

I am a bit apprehensive. My week could go south and the next thing I know all my best intentions are for naught.

So, to commit, I decided to do a little give away.

Someone passed two books on to me lately. They are brand new.

Sam Choy's seafood cookbook. Sam Choy is a famous chef with several restaurants over here.

This lovely tropical cocktail recipe book.

Would you like one?

Just come back on Thursday with a Travel Post to link up. Traveling Tip Thursday started with the idea "what's the daycation spots near where you live...." But we've had true travel posts, daycation posts, how to feel like you are on vacation when you are at home posts.

Link up your post on Thursday and leave a comment which book you'd like to win. I'll run the contenders through the random number thingy and there you go.

See you Thursday.

PS Yes to the comments asking if you can you link a travel post from earlier in the week, month, year... I mean, if I can go two months without blogging at all, I am clearly not inclined to set rules that would inhibit the fun of virtual travel.

Not Quite There Yet

2011-03-28T22:14:00.000-07:00

Spring Break was helpful.

I had been running behind on all things life to the point that the mere uttering of phrases like, “did you remember to,” or “if you have time could you,” or, God forbid, “I neeeeeed you to….” could cause an instantaneous panic attack.

But I digress.

Over Spring Break I graded EVERYTHING. And inputted the grades.

Yeah Baby.

I prepped the three classes I teach for 4th quarter. First two weeks in detail, mapped out the rest.

Fucking righteous.

I caught up on the paper trail of accountability and data analysis that lets the school/state/ whatevers know what I am doing in my classroom. In triplicate.

In your face.

I also carved out an inch of space for me time. A hike. An afternoon with a friend. A book and some gratuitous television watching.

I wish it had been two weeks, but I was ready.

So, last week Monday, I set my alarm at 3 AM, did my morning rituals (not blogging anymore, but nice stuff nonetheless), and got ready for work.

A little bit of make-up.

Check.

Bus money in my pocket?

Check.

Lunch and water in the backpack?

Check and double check.

I was READY.

BRING IT!

At 5:45 AM I walked down to the bus stop, climbed on in, deposited my $2.50, took my transfer from the driver and proceeded to talk story with him a bit as I am the first stop of his route.

He seemed a bit different, but I figured he was picking up on my “Don’t I have my Shit together” vibe.

As the bus moved its way through the dark and then the dawn, I noticed that most people boarding had an extra smile for me. Odd.

Yet, maybe it was a sign that when one is ready to take on the world, the world notices one.

I smiled back.

Before I knew it, I was at my transfer point.

Two kids from the school where I work were also there, as usual. Sweet, yet mischievous boys. I always enjoyed waiting for the next bus with them. The ride up together. The small talk with the young ones.

As I walked over they both stared at me.

And smiled.

Ah, Spring Break had done me well. No more panic attacks or frenzied last minute lesson plans. This was the beginning of the me I used to be before I switched schools.

“Ah…. Ms Psuedo????”

“Yes?”

One of the boys was pointing at his forehead, but looking at me with furrowed brows.

“You have a curler in your hair…”

Ah, well.

There’s always Summer.

My kids show me this stuff...

2011-03-26T17:43:00.000-07:00

Just for fun...

Because sometimes life just gets toooooooooooo serious.

Want more?

Lists are cool, sometimes...

2011-03-18T16:25:00.000-07:00

Beach Barrettes
All hand made by my daughter from shells we have collected over the years.

My to do list for Spring Break:

Grade, grade, grade, input 3rd quarter grades.
Prep 3 classes for 4th quarter.
Do the fucking taxes.
Sit outside for a sunset cocktail most evenings.
Hike to someplace that reminds me why I am lucky to live in Hawaii.
Get together with friends.
Read at least one book that has nothing to do with work.
Get back to blogging.
Advertise my daughter's Etsy Store.

I have two more days left on break and this post knocks two of the items off of my list.

The only thing left is the fucking taxes.

Miss you all. I'd say I see a light at the end of a dark tunnel, but don't want to jinx anything.

Hello Again....

2011-02-27T14:41:00.001-08:00

OK. What the fuck was THAT?

Truly, I had no intention of staying away from the blog and the blog world for this long...

However. What the fuck was that?

I'd ponder it out here in virtual space, but it is mostly unblogg-a-licious...

Maybe someday. See, it's not really my unbloggable. Well, mostly not mine. There is some mine, as in work related stuff that I am not comfortable putting out here.

And maybe that's the thing. Most of my life that is worth writing about is, for now, unbloggable.

That being said, some totally bloggable events have rocked my world. As in blog friends and blog relationships.

This post is for Tera at Olive Hue Designs. She ran a contest, I am guessing around Christmas because it was before I took my unanticipated leave of all things Internet.

And I won.

And I was a horrid. Because I was so away from the Internet that it took me awhile before I realized I won and even longer to get back to her... some time after that to show my appreciation for winning such an amazing prize.

Tera is an amazing artist. I love her stuff and have been coveting something from her Etsy store for a long time. For my prize I was allowed to pick out something.

I love so many of her pieces, but I knew what it would be. The first time she posted it, I felt like she had snuck into our backyard.
And seen our swing....

This is the amazing artwork that Tera sent me. It is called Polka Dots and Moonbeams.

It is so me.

It's on my dresser for now, soon to be hung on the wall above the dresser.

I love it.

Thank-you Tera.

Please visit Tera's blog or Tera's Etsy store.

XOXO

Pseudo

Of Egrets and New Years

2010-12-31T21:02:00.000-08:00

The other day I was driving to work and an egret nearly flew into the right side of my car, veered, passed me, and began a straight path of flight right above my hood and ahead of it by only a few feet. It was like it was leading me somewhere. Or it happened to just be traveling straight down the street I take to work. It did not fly up above the cars, but was literally in front of my car flapping along in traffic.

Odd.

Then, two days later, nearly the same thing. Only this time the bird flew alongside my car for an entire block.

Odd times two.

A week later I was walking BC around the block and as we rounded a corner, an egret was perched on top of a chain link fence we were passing. It had a lizard in its mouth. As I passed him by, I swear he looked at me. Then swallowed the lizard.

Two days later at the park an egret flew down and landed right smack dab in my path. With a lizard in its mouth. Which it proceeded to swallow while I watched, amazed.

I have no idea what it all means.

But my friend Movie started a new blog, of synchronicity and distraction.

And I know she’d like this odd little story.

Happy new blog Movie (do we still call you Movie or is it Sync now?).

Happy New Year Everyone.

2010 was not my favorite. Same with 2009. Still, they had their moments and even the tough stuff has led me here.

But I am ready for a break on the tough stuff.

I’m hoping 2011 will be the start of that better place for all of us.

xoxo

Living Vicariously....

2010-12-29T23:29:00.000-08:00

The Daughter who is spending the holidays as a nanny will be taking us once again to Whistler, Canada.

The tip about dog sledding in the last post was a bit fun, yes?

Today's travel adventures straight from her email home:

The fire alarm went off. Miss Drama Queen 9 year old started crying and saying we were going to die. Fire trucks came. Sleeping people evacuated into the snow. Pajamas and fur coats. My goodness. Turns out there wasn't a fire. There was a flood? I don't know what happened. But definitely exciting.

The parents took the kids to school so I hung out in the room with the toddler and admired the absolutely beautiful day we had. I kind of wanted to go to the top of the mountain but she isn't allowed to since it turns out she has an ear infection, so she can't go up until Friday. We hung out in the lobby by the fire borrowing their books and walked around looking for dogs. We both napped for 3 hours and woke up about 5 minutes before everyone got home.

My girl will be home in five days. I am very excited. Being left with the boys is exhausting.

Got travel? Holiday stories? Link on up!

Post Christmas Tidbits

2010-12-26T20:37:00.000-08:00

That's BC checking out his Christmas present from his BFF Banjo. Banjo's a cool Jack Russel Terrier.

And here's the latest from our girl nannying her way through Whistler, Canada.

HAPPY BOXING DAY!!

So, I've learned Boxing Day is essentially Canada's version of Black Friday. However, I stayed here with the kids so the parents could go shopping. They came home around noon and we went... DOG SLEDDING!! It was really cool but it wasn't as awesome as you'd expect. The trail smells really strongly of dog poop. And the dogs throw the snow into your face when they're running... through dog poop.

But it was still a really awesome experience.

I miss her a lot, but when she gets home I will miss these daily updates enormously.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T20:09:00.000-08:00

And to all a good night...

Peace

2010-12-24T18:10:00.000-08:00

The magic and memories of Christmas can be like a tidal wave. Rolling in slowly and sweeping you up in its path.

Some holidays, though - they are meant to be low key.

A Winter Wonderland.

Or a day of rest.

To know that both are equal in each of their own particular ways.

I could look at this Christmas from one perspective and see the first year without my daughter here. The magical child who makes sure the stockings are hung, that Santa's presents are delivered despite there being no little ones in the house.

The first year after the debacle caused by the events with my mom this year. That left the little family I have left in the Mainland scattered about dusting themselves off from the fallout.

Or. I could look at it from a different perspective.

The year my Daughter brought the magic of a white Christmas to our home with her emails and photos and videos. My heart swells with joy for her adventure.

A first year in a new house in a new location. A place where everyone is finding balance and a light at the end of a long tunnel.

I know that somewhere down the line I will get to spend a Christmas with a gaggle of loved ones.

But this year I am content with the quiet.

With the smiles.

With the happy.

Happy Holidays to you and yours.

May peace, joy, and grace be with you.

Pseudo
xoxo

Random Travel Notes from a Nanny

2010-12-22T07:47:00.000-08:00

I miss blogging more....

I work a lot these days. I've taken on a couple side jobs and Hubs picks up all the overtime he can. Trying to get through the two years of our children both being in college at the same time.

Anyways, I am featuring (with her permission) darling Daughter's emails from her nanny stint in Whistler, Canada.

So Random Tuesday meets Traveling Thursday on this here Holiday Hump Day.

Day One:

The day started CRAZY! I fell asleep around 7:30 last night (so 5:30 Hawaii time-CRAZY) and I woke up around 7:30am and everyone was awake and running around. Apparently the kids have to be at ski school at 7:45ish so it was a craze.

Then the hard part, parents going up and me staying with the two year old. She. Threw. A. Fit.

I swear people thought I was kidnapping her. We had to go to the grocery store to pick up some stuff and the people there were all really nice and super helpful because I had a toddler throwing a temper tantrum screaming, "MOMMY! I WANT DADDY! I WANT DADDY!" interspersed with "you better not cry Santa Claus is coming to town" getting yelled out at me. This caused the guy stocking an aisle to sing the song for her. It didn't help. She just stared at him like he was nuts. Looking back, funny. At the time, not one bit.

Then outside the store, in the middle of the square, walking IN THE SNOW she throws her boots and socks off from the stroller.

And refused to put them back on.

Which resulted in me running through the town back to the hotel to get her inside with groceries, carrying her in my hands, and pushing a stroller. Not to brag, but I'm pretty impressed that I pulled that one off. She napped for all of 10 minutes before she wanted to go play in snow.

Day Two:

After breakfast the parents left, which led to what I assume will be a daily 45 minute screaming session. I used the time to organize the room, check my email, and do dishes. After the screaming stopped, we walked around the hotel and town with some trail mix and dried papaya slices to find Santa. We didn't find him but did get to explore the stores and go to a new coffee shop next to the grocery store. We had lunch there (veggie roll and sausage roll with hot tea) and then came back to the room. We could hear the people with their ski stuff on the floor above us and the baby kept saying it was Santa's reindeer.

Day Three:

The parents did first tracks today so they were gone by 7:15. I took the three older kids to ski school. It was snowing really hard and I was in awe but the nine year old was not amused and the five year old said she felt sick. The seven year old and two year old were having a blast though. We played in the snow until it was time for school (I got them there 45 minutes early).

We wandered the grounds which are GORGEOUS! Pretty much all my pictures today are from that block of time. Then someone had an accident and we came back to the room and had a snack and changed her clothes.

Which is when everyone else came back. We went down to the lobby and had cookies and hot chocolate by the fire for fireside storytelling.

Then, we went to the pool. One jacuzzi is inside and to get to the pool there's a little wading pool and you go through this flap and you're outside and there's another jacuzzi out there. It was warm water but my face froze. It was really pretty to look up and see the trees covered in snow and the snow falling softly down from the sky. Of course we all ran out onto the deck to go to the other jacuzzi which was full and I just about died. Wet bikini. 18 degree weather. Yeah. Not okay.

Then we went to dinner which was uneventful except our waiter failed at life kind of.

OK. It's me, Pseudo again.

While I miss my daughter, shes not missing much here. I picked up a job working Winter Break (a program for disadvantage kids).

Daughter was supposed to get ski lessons as perk to this job. The parents were going to sign her up to go to the two year old's ski school. Like a nanny/baby class. Turns out that the kid has to be three, so instead Daughter is left to entertain the young one each day. But Daughter loves those kids and has been working for the family since that child was a baby.

For more random, head on over to Keely's at the Unmom's

For travel posts, like on up:

Holiday Travels

2010-12-16T08:02:00.000-08:00

I'm not going anywhere this Christmas. But Daughter is....

Daughter (who says I need to give her a better pseudonym on the blog) is a full time college student at the University of Hawaii and works two part time jobs. For one, she waitresses four nights a week at a cute little restaurant that I will feature someday in a Thursday post. Her second job is working as a nanny/personal assistant for a lovely young couple with four adorable children between the ages of 2 and 9.

This family is traveling to Whistler for Christmas and taking Daughter to help with the children. Her whole trip is paid for and she will be paid daily as well. It is an incredible opportunity for her. The family only decided to take this trip a week ago and Daughter had to get her passport and arrange with coworkers to cover her waitress shifts. All in the midst of finals week.

She is 21 and has never seen snow.

I will miss her terribly - this is the first Christmas I will be without her. But I couldn't be happier for her.

Got travel? Some snow photos? Link on up...

Random Middle Schoolishness

2010-12-14T07:47:00.000-08:00

We allow one student at a time to use the bathroom in middle school. There are reasons for this, but they are boring so let's move on.

The other day a student came up, asked to use the bathroom, was told to use the sign out sheet, and off he went.

Two seconds later, another student came up, grabbed the sign out sheet, and started signing himself out to the restroom.

Hey. Joe's using the bathroom. You have to wait until he gets back.

Uh. OK.

Bob goes back to his seat. Quiet, independent reading time continues.

A noxious odor swivels slowly across the floor and under my seat, winding its way around me from the floor up until it hits my nostrils and sends them flaring. I look up to see my entire classroom looking like the Jesse James' gang, shirts pulled up and over their noses like bandits.

Bob has magically appeared by the side of my desk, head bobbing at the sign-in sheet, feet shuffling back and forth, a silly, sheepish grin on his face.

Oh Good Lord Bob. Yes. Go NOW.

Bob starts to sign the sheet, the odor around my desk becoming darker and denser with each passing second.

LIKE RIGHT NOW BOB. GOGOGO

Bob runs a weird little dance down the hall while I direct a couple of students to open ALL closed windows.

MISS... Bob's doing the dodo run..

Bandit shirt masks shiver in giggledom across the entire room.

* * *

Two days ago I walked out of one door of my classroom to get a breath of fresh air, walked down to the other door and took a long breath while I enjoyed the view, then reentered my class.

Unknowingly stepping through a water puddle in the process.

Feeling centered and revived, I took that first step into my class and did an Ice-Skating with the Stars level faux paus (and no, I have not actually watched that show).

I slip. I slide. I grasp at the ledge of the dry erase board. I go down.

I pick myself up as quickly and with as much dignity as I can muster.

Miss!!! Are you OK.

I'm fine.

Are you sure you didn't break your leg?

Yes. I'm sure.

Cause that's how Steven broke his foot. He fell down running through his own house.

I look back at Steven who just made it onto crutches after a month in a wheel chair. I never asked how he broke his foot, but the severity of of convalescence had me thinking major surgery or a stunt of Wild Boys level antics.

You broke your foot falling down in your house?

Miss. Really? Like I haven't been teased enough already.

For more Random Fun, head on over to Keely's at the Unmom's.

Mariner's Ridge Hike..

2010-12-09T08:28:00.000-08:00

Mariner's Ridge hike. Here we go.
So on Thanksgiving it was just the four of us as we had opted out of the North Shore camping. I found myself cooking a turkey dinner. The boy was on the North Shore surfing, the hubs was watching football, and Daughter was cruising in the house. Probably college stuff.

After the food was all in the oven, BC and I went for a little hike.
On the south shore of Oahu, in a suburb called Hawaii Kai, there is a ridge with fancy houses called Mariner's Ridge. If you drive to the top and park, a trail spins off and you can hike up to a gorgeous view of the south and east shores.

Click on any photo if you would like a bigger, closer look.

The beginning of the hike, just above Mariner's Ridge. In the background is Koko Crater.

View of Koko Head and Moanalua Bay.

BC posing on the trail for you all.

The terrain change several times as you ascend.

At the top of the ridge you can see Kailua and the Mokuluas (The Mokes).

This view looks up the east side of the island. You are looking towards Kaneohe.
That peak is Olomana.

Thanks for coming along!

Got Travel? I'm putting up Mr Linky because my to do list that I never get to? Top of the list is promoting and bringing back Traveling Thursdays in much more glory.

Preoccupied

2010-12-05T21:22:00.000-08:00

The challenges of getting back to a regular blogging schedule are a bit overwhelming.

And that's only if I count things I have to do. Have to as in things for work and daily living. Grading, prepping, going to meetings, showing up... Eating, sleeping, having clean clothes to wear.

Then there are things I like to do. Walking BC. Hanging out with my kids and friends.

Well. I have a new one. Helping daughter with her new thing.

I have bags and bags of shells I have found during the summers when I go snorkeling on the North Shore. We have shells surrounding our candles, bottles of shells in the bathrooms...

Daughter and I went to the craft store and bought stuff to make shell barrettes and refrigerator magnets. So far, I have been so busy with grading and what not, the girl has made all of our inventory.

Most of the barrettes and magnets are wrapped in beautiful little boxes and ready to give to her friends as Christmas gifts.

These are the ones she made today.

The shells are all from our own stash. But we went to the bead store and bought some beach glass and seed pearls.

We are thinking about selling them down the road. What do you think?

This one I'm keeping. I was actually saving that big shell to make a necklace with someday (someday as in the shell has been sitting in my bag for two or three years). But I remember vividly when I found it. I threw a small fit when I saw it glued to a barrette so Daughter kind of had to tell me I could keep it.

Each of these pretties gave me a thrill when I claimed it out of the ocean. The beach we go to has a strong current and to dive down and grab the shell while it is tumbling with the undertow requires both timing and tenacity.

The clam shell came from a bag of shells I moved with me from California. All those other shells are from Hawaii. The two on the outside are made into magnets.

This is a magnet. I might keep it too. Daughter says I cannot keep them all, but I think this one looks like it has a face. The profile is facing you in this shot.

Daughter has also been hand making these gift cards to go with her hand made Christmas gifts.

Can you imagine how behind I will get on the blog when I actually sit down and join her?

Thanksgiving Travels

2010-11-25T21:29:00.000-08:00

BC is hoping. He's a hoping and a drooling.

But heck, that's what dogs do.

We did not do any travels today. We stayed home and had Thanksgiving dinner just the four of us. It was nice. We have a lot to be thankful for and we know it.

For the last few years we celebrated Thanksgiving with several other families on the North Shore camping. Amazing times that you can read about here or here (mostly photos but a little bit of reading in the posts).

This year it was not in the cards for us to go and although I miss the camaraderie and fun (not to mention having a surf spot all to ourselves and long beach walks twice a day); we felt it was more important to stay together as a family than to have the one or two of us off work go and leave the others alone.

I've been thinking a lot this year on what I am grateful for; remembering to notice the little bits of grace scattered about, even among what can seem like a world collapsing on itself.

Because when I notice those little bits, they build on each other, and slowly but surely, lives get rebuilt.

I'm thankful for being blessed with the courage and strength that I prayed for often this last year.

I'm thankful that my mom is safe and happy and that my sisters, our families, and me all survived the mom crisis intact.

I'm thankful that we pulled off a move to the opposite side of the island and that it seems to have been the right choice. That I found a job closer to where we moved and that I like it even better than my last job, which I liked just fine.

I'm thankful for all my friends, especially those who supported me during the difficult times. That means you....

The blogging community is amazingly supportive and I am grateful for this support and friendship...

I'd like to give a shout out to Jen over at Sprite's Keeper. She has run the Spin Cycle the last couple of years and is going to take a break. I can't lie - I'm sure going to miss it. Even if I haven't been the most dependable Spinner the last few months.

While the turkey was doing its thing in the oven, BC and I (plus my new camera) went for a hike not to far from our house. This is the view from the top of the trail.

I'm saving the rest of the hike for next week's Travel Tip.

Feel free to link on up with your travel tips, travel posts, Thanksgiving posts....

Love is...

2010-11-18T22:15:00.000-08:00

A busy life is marked by moments suspended in time with pure joy.

I love going to Daughter's Musical Theatre's class recital night.

* * * * *

There's a lot more to this girl than stage performances.

She's a funny girl in a dead pan kind of way.

Two days ago she tells me, "Mom, can we get your name off my bank account."

"I didn't know my name was on it."

"I started the account when I was 16 and you had to sign in as a joint account holder."

"Oh. Sure, but what difference does it make? It's not like I'm going to take your money."

"Yeah. But I finally went through my first box of checks. The ones with only my name on them. Apparently when I ordered a new box of checks five years later your name came up."

She waves the box in my face and increases the volume of her voice.

"Look, just what I need. Now I have a whole box of lesbian couple checks."

Flowers and Travel

2010-11-17T20:04:00.000-08:00

Traveling Thursday today is a trip to Koko Crater Botanical Gardens.

Enjoy!

Got Travel? Link on up...

Creativity and Public Education

2010-11-16T21:42:00.000-08:00

I've been at a workshop the last couple of days. It was a good one. Not all of them are, but the last two days really held my interest. Lots of stuff on brain studies and how to use this information to help teach. I am a dork when it comes to learning how the brain works; I am totally fascinated.

We watched this video clip today and I'm posting it. If you have children, are involved in education, or have any interest or stake in public education - grab of cup of joe and watch the whole thing. One of the best anecdotal stories is at the end so I encourage you to watch the whole thing.

See you on Thursday for traveling posts.....

Travel Tip Thursday: Happy Veterans Day

2010-11-11T17:01:00.000-08:00

First of all I'd like to say thank-you to all the veterans out there; those who have served and those who are serving.

My dad, my uncles, the men I grew up with all served in WWII.

May we never forget their service to our country.

* * * * *

Today I was planning on staying home. Grading quizzes, reading drafts of student papers.

Catching up on laundry and chores....

Then my 18 year old son woke up at 6am - not a usual thing.

Next he asked me If I wanted to go to the North Shore with him and practice with my new camera by taking surf shots of him.

WTF, yes? Everything else can wait (we know it will be there when we get back).

Here's some photos with my new camera taken today on the North Shore.

That's my boy.
Remember, you can click on any of the photos to see them enlarged.

This was my view between surf shots. Nice, yes?

Today's tip is twofold.

One. If you visit Oahu and stay in Waikiki, get a car and head to the North Shore. Bring your camera. Sit back and watch the surfers.

Two. Once in awhile, set the tasks aside and spend the day with a loved one. Especially if the loved one is a teenager.

Link on up with your own post and take us to your favorite place! Even if it is your own backyard.

Tuesday Random Winners and Schtuff

2010-11-09T07:31:00.000-08:00

Random photos from my new camera that hubs got me for my birthday. Fun times ahead...

******

Well, let's get the ball rolling with the Random Number Generator and the winners from the birthday giveaway...

Winner Number One is
True Random Number Generator Min: 1 Max: 44 Result: 22 Powered by RANDOM.ORG
Sage!

Winner Number Two is
True Random Number Generator Min: 1 Max: 44 Result: 32 Powered by RANDOM.ORG
Rikki!

Winner Number Three is
True Random Number Generator Min: 1 Max: 44 Result: 14 Powered by RANDOM.ORG
Captain Dumbass!

Congratulations to the winners. Please send me a mailing address to my email, phhhst@gmail.com

I wish I could send each and every one of you a goodie box. Thank-you all for playing along and helping to make my birthday special and fun.

* * * * *

I did not know Andy Irons personally. He was winning world titles when my boy (top photo) was learning to surf. My son has been spending a lot of time watching videos in memory of Andy. May Andy rest in peace and may his loved ones be held in our prayers.

For more Randomness, head on over to Keely at the Unmom's.

Travel Contest

2010-11-04T08:54:00.000-07:00

Travels will begin again....

The hubs and kids were all off yesterday and even though my birthday isn't until next week, they let me open my presents last night. In a busy working family, nights with all of us off are few and far between.

Woooooooot!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!!!!!!!!

They got me a new camera. My photo travel blogs will begin again.

Last year for my birthday, I did a contest and the recipients of my Hawaii goodie boxes seemed to enjoy; so I thought I'd continue the tradition.

Want a Hawaii Goodie box this holiday season? A bottle of coconut syrup for your pancakes? Exotic snacks for your munchies? Other miscellaneous treats?

Here's how it works. I use the random number generator. It's easy and objective.

Leave a comment for an entry.

If you are a follower leave another comment for another entry.

If you link the contest in a blog post, leave another comment.

If you post a travel post for my birthday week, leave 3 comments. Yep that 's right. I am trying to pump up Travel Tip Thursdays, plus I get the added perk of virtual traveling for my birthday weekend. You can just comment "I linked a travel post" 3 times.

I am giving away 3 goodie boxes, but you can only win one. If one of your numbers comes up twice I'll random generate another number.

The contest ends Monday, November 8th, 6PM Hawaii time.

Good Luck to all!!!
Pseudo

Perfuckity Part II

2010-11-02T10:06:00.000-07:00

Follow up from the last post. Proper names have been changed and the italic text is an add on that I held back in the real letter. As true as it is, I figure best not to alienate the doctor...need to give her a chance to do the right thing and not put her on the defensive. Yet.

Dear Dr. Fucked it Up:

Attached you will find the letter that my sister wrote to appeal the denial of our mother’s long term health care insurance. We would appreciate you reading it and keeping it in our mother’s file. Hopefully the appeal will go through and her long term health care insurance will activate, alleviating a lot of the problems for our mother’s care.

I am very sad and frustrated that things could not have gone more smoothly. I tried reaching out to you in June and explaining how difficult things can get with our mother, but she has charmed and misled many people before and you are not the first. However, allowing our mom to talk you into changing her insurance application was not only possibly fraudulent, but also a gross mistake on your part. You might have saved her a few hundred dollars in assisted living fees, but now her insurance has been denied based on your revised and inaccurate account of our mother’s needs and health status. Our family is extremely frustrated that everything we feared is manifesting despite our best intentions and efforts.

Allow me to elaborate a bit for background and context.

Our mother has been mentally ill our entire lives. I’m not going to go into a detailed history, but suffice it to say that when my parents divorced in 1974, the courts granted custody of my younger sister and me to our father due to our mom’s documented mental instability.

In 2007, I spent a week at her house cleaning out the mess of her hoarding in preparation of her moving into assisted living. It took six trips to the dump and 10 to the Goodwill to make her place habitable again (60 phone books dating back to the 80’s being the tip of the iceberg). At the time she promised that she would continue to let us help her by sending us her insurance information and allowing us to help her straighten out her finances to get her ready for long term care. It never happened. Every time any of us would mention to her the steps she needed to take, she would become irrational and lash out verbally; or hang up on us and avoid us until she thought we would drop the subject.

During the months of her downward spiral this last year (the falls, the increased hoarding, complete lack of safe behaviors, and medical emergencies) we continued to try to help her. Despite her lying, her manipulations, her psychotic rants and phone calls, and her complete lack of cooperation. When we felt completely impotent, we called in adult protective services. We had no choice. Mom would not let any family in past the guarded gate of her adult community. She was completely irrational on the phone and had reached the point where she was saying she “wanted to die” when she could not manipulate us into doing things her way. Her way is what got her into this mess in the first place. Her way is not being responsible for herself or for us or for our families. We are no longer children cowed and frightened by her, but adults just trying to act in her own best interests. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not become an enabler to our mother.

One of the most problematic behaviors of Mom is her mismanagement of money. An example. In the late 1970’s she inherited from her mother, our grandmother, a paid for house and the balance of my grandparents’ savings. Mom was already living in a 100% paid for home that my grandmother had bought her after the divorce. Mom quit her job and sold the mobile home and lived off that for about a year. Then she began refinancing the house and living off that. I was in my early 20’s at the time and my sisters were both living far away. It was like beating my head against a wall trying to talk sense into my mom. I begged her to rein herself in before she ended up without anything, but that is exactly what happened.

We thought the years of working and living paycheck to paycheck might have turned her around, but that is not the case. When she found out she could again get credit, she took all the credit any card would give her. She is now in a lot of debt on her charge cards, but won’t tell us how much. We wanted to file bankruptcy for her and set up her finances so the portion of her rent at the assisted living home after insurance, as well as her insurance payments and prescriptions, would be doable. That is why my nephew insisted on her allowing my sister POA. However, Mom’s neurotic behavior and psychotic outbursts have exasperated my sister’s MS and made it impossible for her to help our mom.

We love our mom and have stuck with her for decades, but we cannot let our families or ourselves be taken down either financially or emotionally by her worst behaviors. My nephew has generously stepped up and paid the first three months of Mom’s rent while waiting for the insurance kick in. Had you and the assisted living home supported us in our efforts to curb Mom’s self-destructive behaviors everything would be in place and fine at this moment in time.

The POA hasn’t done any good as Mom is still free to sabotage our efforts. The professionals I have consulted with over here in Hawaii tell me that what she needs is a conservatorship as she is incapable of making sound and rational decisions about her finances or her care. The family thinks a third party conservator, perhaps appointed by the courts, would be a viable solution as Mom doesn’t trust her daughters. And, quite frankly, we don’t trust her. Also, she might be less inclined to go into manipulative and neurotic behaviors; hopefully she will settle down and enjoy that she is in a safe place and that everything is lined up for her best interests.

Thank-you for your time,

More Perfuckity

2010-10-31T12:33:00.001-07:00

If blogging was a regular job, I'd have been fired months ago.

But I keep the blog going; it represents my hopes for getting back to me time.

New home, new job, staying on top of things so unbloggableness doesn't rear its ugly head. Yeah, it keeps me busy.

Lately, the problems of caring for our elderly mother have resurfaced. Those of you here last summer might remember. Those of you who helped me with phone calls and emails are forever in my grateful prayers.

Nutshell:

Despite mom's outbursts, manipulations, and craziness; we got her into the assisted living place she wanted. I should not say we as I take no credit. My nephew and niece in California physically moved her days (minutes) before she would have been evicted.

My nephew paid for her first three months (her long term health care does not kick in until after three months).

Mom's doctor had the paperwork for her insurance application. Mom needed help with her meds, big time. She needed help bathing and dressing as she had fallen three times - breaking her arm twice and splitting open her head once. She needed help with her finances and paperwork as she was declared "mildly" incompetent. Mildly my ass.

Once in, you would think she would be grateful and relax.

But no.

She fought my sister (who took the responsibility of POA). Mom would not let my sister do anything. POA doesn't override my mom, just makes sis partners. Mom's doctor didn't think mom was crazy and incompetent enough to sign off on a conservatorship.

Doc did, however, change mom's insurance application at mom's request. She took off the check marks for bathing, dressing, and meds help. Just left the mildly incompetent. This was to save mom money as each need adds more to the bill.

Doc did not bother to notice mom's insurance won't cover her for only one check mark.

The assisted living home let it slide (they were getting paid).

Now, mom's insurance got denied and suddenly they are calling my sister and nephew more often than the stupid political campaigns.

Ever had one of those years where EVERYTHING was difficult. A challenge.

So. NOW they (and mom) want our help.

I'm posting the letter I wrote to the doctor tomorrow. Any of you ever get in a similar position, feel free to take it and revise it for your own.

Scary is as Scary Does

2010-10-24T19:19:00.000-07:00

This is a repost, those of you who have been reading here for the whole two plus years might have read it before. But the Spin Cycle this week is Halloween. And I've been wanting to get something up this month, October, for breast cancer awareness month. And this post gives me the opportunity to double dip.

Circa 1960’s
When I was young and growing up in the San Fernando Valley with my two sisters, Halloween was a huge deal. We COULDN’T WAIT for dinner to be over and dark to descend so we could go trick or treating. My dad had this horrid awful mask that he would drag out, not only for Halloween but also for slumber parties. It beat the shit out of anything they sell today. It was MORE REAL. Not so rubbery. It was the scariest, creepiest, wrinkled, evil face ever. My sister has told me it came off a movie set (my Uncle was a cameraman). My dad would wait until our guard was down, which means sitting on the floor, sorting our candies; and with mask, trench coat, and big ol’ boots, he’d slam open the back screen door and come tearing at us. Clenching hands and BRUUUUUHAHAHA. I’m surprised we never pissed our pants. That’s how much we fell for it every year.

Halloween 1991
Daughter was just over two and we had mostly managed to keep her from chocolate and sweets. Instead of taking her trick or treating, we all dressed up and took her to a restaurant/club. You see, my husband and I met working at Bobby McGee’s. I was cocktailing to pay my way through college and my husband was a waiter. EVERYONE wore a costume at this crazy place to work. Even though we had both moved on, we still had a lot of friends there and they did a happy hour thingy on Halloween. So we dressed as the Flintstones. Cave clothes- mine and Daughter’s hair twisted around big, fake bones. It’s a great picture of back in the day when my husband and I had our youthful bodies. Daughter was the most precious Pebbles ever. Not that I’m prejudiced or anything. We went at about 5 PM, and even after a shitload of fun and frivolity, we were back home by 8. Within 5 minutes of sitting down some kids came trick or treating. There was no hiding from the two year old child the fact that I was giving stuff away and that was the end of her not getting candy for Halloween.

Halloween 1993
We had just bought our home that summer and it was Son’s first Halloween trick or treating. He was 16 months old. He had the CUTEST fucking tiger costume. He toddled along and I swear our block looked like that scene in ET, where swarms of kids come out right at dusk. Being a new neighborhood, it was a beehive of toddlerhood. I was holding his hand and waited on the sidewalk as Daughter and our friend’s kids went up to the first house. Son could barely talk, but he sure let it be known that he had observed what went on at the front door. He grunted and grumbled to see inside the kids pumpkin buckets. When he figured out that they were partaking of give-away stuff, he pulled and pulled on my arm until I walked him up to the next door. That was the beginning of his professional status at trick or treating. Everyone thought the baby tiger was too too cute and gave him twice as much candy as the other kids. But half way around the block he figured out how to unwrap a piece of candy and that was the end. Afterwards he wanted to sit in the middle of the sidewalk and eat his whole loot. My friend had to take all the kids around so I could haul his little butt home and check his candy before he scarfed down a razor blade or an LSD tab.

Halloween 2006
My children are 17 and 14 and they have made plans to go out with some friends. Son is actually trick or treating in a friendly neighborhood that lets the teens keep up the good work. His professional status is still intact. Daughter is in a play and after rehearsals they are having a party. My husband has to work. I have the night to myself, but I’m being a Halloween Homebody and I have decided I don’t want to answer the door and give away candy by myself. So I turn the porch light off and all the downstairs lights too. I go upstairs and treat myself to an aromatherapy bath with candles. As I leave the bath I look at myself in the candlelit mirror and contemplate the effects of the last few months. I’m still officially bald, but the first soft down of baby soft fuzz can be felt more than seen. My radiation treatments, finished just two weeks before, have left a thickening of red welts under my left arm. But it’s not as bad as they said it would be. The aloe must have really helped. My scars are still fairly new and jagged and my skin still has the sallowness of all that chemo. The dark circles under my eyes could be the center of a zombie mask.... But I made it. I’m done with the treatments and starting my recovery. I walk to the upstairs window and peek through the blinds to see the families on the sidewalks with their ballerinas and spidermen. I don’t feel the least bit sad to be by myself. I had insisted my kids not stay home for me; I want to make up for all those days and nights they had hung out with me in my room the previous summer, fear haunting their faces despite their efforts to hide it. I curl up in bed with a book, grateful that the worst is over. Happy that life is moving forward and getting back to normal.

For more spins on Halloween, head on over to Sprite's Keeper.

Hump Day and that's all folks

2010-10-21T00:05:00.000-07:00

My birthday's in a couple of weeks.

Let's hope a camera in my purse will revive my creative instincts.

Right now, I've got nothing.

Maybe you do?

Awesome Surf Shop

2010-10-14T08:08:00.000-07:00

Ever had one of those weeks (months/years) where everything that can go south does so?

Don't you hate it when the bumpy road involves expensive items acting up? Breaking down? Not living up to the hype?

I hate having to put my I-can-be-a-bitch-if-you-make-me on and dealing with companies that don't back up their products.

I might do a post on the two companies that have caused much time suck in this house of late.

But today is Travel Tip Thursday, so I will focus on the company who made me happy.

We broke down and bought Son an expensive surfboard a couple of weeks ago. A belated graduation gift. After being furloughed 17 days last school year and Hub's hotel being slow, in May all the boy got was a family dinner and some much needed clothes.

Anyways, we bought him his "dream board." In less than two weeks a fin broke off the tail when he was turning at the top of the wave. The company who made the board has a total ass hat as the rep in charge of replacing bonker boards. I might do a post and show you all the ass hat's emails.

HOWEVER, the surf shop where we bought the board stepped in and gave us a full refund. Told us they would deal with the ass hat. The manager was always nice, empathetic, and willing to whatever it took to keep us happy customers. He said he understood how making such a huge purchase was supposed to be a happy thing. Proud parents. Stoked graduate. He derailed the train wreck the whole ordeal was becoming.

Local Motion. A local Hawaii surf shop. If you are visiting the islands, visit one of their stores. Take back T-shirts to all your family. The manager of the Ala Moana store is my new favorite person.

Got a Travel Tip? A post on living like you are on vacation in the middle of a work heavy week?

Link on up....

Random Intercession

2010-10-12T08:30:00.000-07:00

AKA Why I haven't been blogging over the break like I thought I would be....

Hawaii public school teachers were on break last week. We go back to work today. As if I wasn't working all week without the kids.

The hours add up like this: 15 spent doing pacing guides from last quarter that I was supposed to do last quarter....

20 hours planning and prepping the first 3 weeks of next quarter for the 3 different classes I teach....

5 more hours writing the pacing guides for those 3 weeks and 3 classes...

10 hours grading so I can hand out 1st quarter final grades today.

* * * *

My son thought I should get back in the water. We used to be surf buds back in the day. As in the days when he was 9-14 years old and needed a ride, plus would go out to spots where an old bag felt comfortable.

So he took me out to a spot I have never been. Where he encouraged me to jump off a cliff into deep ocean and wait for the push of the wave off the cliff to "go left." And chided me for hanging out not by the cliff.

Here, check the spot out...

OK. It wasn't this big the day he took me out, but let's just say I only caught one wave, lied and told him I caught three. But the one wave was fun, but a bit too scary with the cliffs just to the side. I guess I am getting old.

********

I managed to get out to breakfast once, lunch once, and sunset drinks.... yes, once. Come on back on Thursday and I'll feature one of these spots. I am still challenged by the no camera thing, but my birthday is next month and I am pretty sure I am getting another little snap and shoot digital wonder.

For more Randoms, head on over to The Unmom's...

Spreading the News...

2010-10-07T23:02:00.000-07:00

Travel Tip Thursday is running late.... there are reasons, but they are not interesting enough to blog about.

Anywhos. My good friend Smart Mouth Broad is in NYC for a business trip. So I thought I'd post a few pics and tips from our one and only visit there in the summer of 2007. The video is meant to accompany for mood...

Take a walk or three in Central Park and make sure you see John Lennon's Imagine....

A friend of mine said not to be embarrassed about being a tourist and to get on the double deck bus. And we did and had a blast. What do I care if New Yorkers think I'm a tourist? I was.

You can get on and off the busses all day long. We shopped Canal Street, had coffee in Little Italy, got off again for pizza and shopping.... the list is endless.

The bus drivers were awesome. Loads of personality and lots of tips for what to do and where to go.

Our favorite deli lunch would be hard to pick, but I think Stage Deli might be it. I thought I had a photo to post, but sorry, none without me and la familia in it.

Anybody have tips for Smart Mouth while she's there? Please leave them in the comment thread.

AND!!! WTF is up with blogger now with the new dashboard. Anyone?

Have a travel post? Link on up.....

Household Chores and Bongs...

2010-10-05T14:50:00.000-07:00

Did the title get your attention? Ha!

* * * * *

So. I'm trying to catch up on everything work and have been in grading crazy mode the last two days. One of the assignments is part of an historical novel unit and is a drawing that shows the inside of a Puritan house. The boy is coming in from outside carrying firewood. The girl is sitting at a cauldron of water and dipping the candles she is making. The mother is on a spinning wheel.

The students were asked to make inferences on the life of the Puritans based on that drawing.

A male student wrote that the difference between the boys and girls was that "the boys do all the hard work while the girls do easy housework."

Ack. I was slightly offended and had to hold my hand back from writing on his paper that perhaps he should volunteer to do all household chores at home for a week since household chores are so easy. To make the experiment more Puritan-ish he should not allow himself electrical helpers.

The Universe was good to me though, and within seconds I came across one girl who wrote, "Boys carried wood into the house while girls had to drop things in a pot, they had to make things to eat in a fire, they had to make clothes out of threads, and then they probably had to serve the dad and all the boys. Nowadays boys just have to take out the trash while the girls have to wash clothes, dry clothes, fold clothes and wash the dishes. The difference for boys and girls is that boys get all the fun or easy chores while girls do all the hard work."

Hehehehehehehe.

* * * * *

Hubs and I went to a memorial service the other night for the mother of one of hub's high school friends. It was a beautiful service. The mom lived in a house above Honolulu with a gigantic back patio that looks out over the city. This patio is where they held the service at sunset. There was a microphone and people came up and told stories they remembered about the woman who had passed away. Funny stories. Poignant stories. Stories of lives she had changed and lives she had influenced. I had only met her a few times, but after the service I felt as if I had known her.

Afterwards, there was a buffet and a bar and a wonderful musician playing guitar and singing. Mostly Hawaiian music, with the twinkling lights of Honolulu in the background. The musician is another high school buddy of the son. Listening to the music, looking out on the city lights, toasts to the history of the house and the life of the matriarch. It was perfect.

* * * * *

Apparently the musician didn't play his whole repertoire. When we got home hubs got on YouTube and shared this song with me that would not have been in good taste at the event.

But it's a bit fun.

Perhaps Trixie took up her bong to avoid falling into the hard chores of housework....

For more Random, head on over to Keeley at the Unmom's

A Moment of Zen Within the Chaos

2010-09-30T08:32:00.000-07:00

The public schools in Hawaii go out intercession break next week. I cannot believe the first quarter flew by already.

Despite my being overwhelmed with work and all, I try to take the time to find a moment here and there. One of my favorite things is to relax and watch a sunset. Lately, it has been from my back porch or a walk around the block. However, next week, I may get to enjoy an ocean sunset.

Today's travel tip?

Kick back and watch a sunset, especially at the end of an altogether too busy day.

Got travel? Link on up!

On Faith

2010-09-25T01:32:00.000-07:00

I don’t think I’ve ever taken on a religion post. I meant to work on one this week, Jen’s Spin challenge kept nipping at the corners of my thoughts on a way too busy work week.

Like Jan, I’m not sure where this might be going, but I’ll just get started and see what happens. I almost feel like I should have done this on a Random Tuesday as my thoughts on religion run the gamut.

I guess I could start by saying I always thought there was more to life than this world we live in. So, in my own way I’ve always had faith and believed.

I did not grow up going to church. My mom wanted us to go, or said she did. She and my dad used to fight about our lack of church going. My dad was agnostic and told my mom she could take us kids to church, but he wasn’t coming. She took us to Sunday school for a time, but not for too much time.

I used to go to church with other families on occasion. Like when you spend the night at a friend’s house on Saturday and they take you along with them to church the next day. I acted all whatevers. But on the inside, I was hoping for a spiritual epiphany that never happened. Mostly, I was only aware of hypocrisy and judgmentalism (apparently made up word I'm keeping).

I found my solace, my center, mostly in nature. I’d go for hikes alone. I liked cliffs and views.

Sometimes I would notice a moment of grace in something random. It was like everything became both clear and surreal at the same time.

There are many things that bother me about organized religions. Uppermost is the narrow mindedness of those who are loudest. The horrible things that are done in the name of religion both past and present. I often wonder if others besides myself notice the similarities in the self-righteous zealots of opposing religions…

I also wonder why these same people do not notice the similarities of what is good about their faiths.

I have been teased (accused) of having a smorgasbord belief system in that I am curious and open to all faiths. I have read several major religious books and there’s a lot of common ground as far as I am concerned.

Love one another. Be kind. Help one another. Be of service.

“The alien living with you must be treated as one of your neighbor born. Love him as yourself.” Leviticus 19:34

For more spins on religion, go on over and visit Jen at Sprite's Keeper.

The Reef is Always Brighter, in Somebody Else's Pond

2010-09-23T07:51:00.000-07:00

Travel tip today is Waimea Bay on the North Shore.

During the winter and when the giant waves are up, if you get up early and can get parking on the highway up and above the waves, you might witness something like this...

That kind of surf only comes up once or twice a year, if at all. In the 28 years I have lived here, I have only witnessed it twice.

Howver, during the summer, Waimea is a huge salt water pool with the clearest water you can imagine. A great beach for snorkeling.

We like to walk to the far left side of the bay, past the rock the crazy kids jump off of (and yes, you might find my crazy son jumping off it from time to time).

On a lower ledge, you might even find my dog hanging with the boys.

The ocean is unbelievably clear.

The rocks provide an underwater playground.

Or a moment of zen.

Got a place you'd recommend for a day trip? A long trip? A lifetime? Link on up...

Addendum

2010-09-18T16:41:00.000-07:00

In regards to yesterday's post....

The Last Dance at the beach house was a two-fer. The Romantics' What I Like About You for the fast and fun one. It had been a big hit earlier in the evening, bringing in even those of us who were still on the deck gabbing and imbibing and thinking about opening another bottle of wine. There's nothing like seven women in their late forties and early fifties dancing to this tune as if they were still the fave of The Wave Waikiki.

Then, we finished with The Supremes' Someday. Most of us related it to another year and we'd be back. However, one of our group and just sent her son off to the East Coast to college and she was filling a bit bittersweet.

And, no. The woman with the paddle board in the photo in front of the beach house is not me. She is a friend of a friend and she lives on the North Shore. She paddled that board down to where we were staying to hang with us for the day. As I told Tulpen, if my Hubs would break down and buy me a paddle board, maybe my ass would have a shot of looking like that...

A Moment in Time with Friends....

2010-09-16T08:25:00.000-07:00

This is the post I promised a week ago...

Even now, I don't have time to write the words these photos are deserving of; I need to get ready for work.

I have written about Laborless Labor Day before. An event that began in 2006, when my friends decided to rent a beach house on the North Shore. Women only. No husbands or children. That was the year I was fighting breast cancer and that September I was in the middle of radiation treatments. Chemo was over and Labor Day weekend I was sporting some peach fuzz on my head. I stayed on the deck except for early morning, sunset, and swims.

Labor Day 2008 I wrote this post that weekend on the deck. I had just started blogging.

Labor Day 2009 I didn't make it up to the beach house. Unbloggable events had begun the Tuesday before.

Labor Day this year, 2010, was magnificent. I do not have time to narrate the photos, but I encourage you to click on them and see them enlarged. Ke Iki Beach is a magical place.

I will attempt, in my early morning rush, to give give you one set of imagery with words. An event with no photos.

Saturday night is always a celebration. After a dinner of clam pasta and salad on the deck, the living room is cleared by pushing the furniture to the sides. A master play list has been prepared by two of my friends and the dancing begins. This year we danced through the decades. All of us worked our way through the '80's in clubs and/or restaurants (that is how we all met) and the music of those times brings back the girls we used to be, the young women still at the center of the women we have become.

We may have met in the 80's, but we were teens in the 70's and children in the 60's.

We danced with abandon for two hours straight. We danced in a circle and through the circle, in lines and in pairs; we danced to Build Me Up Buttercup, and we danced to The Cure. Electric Slide as well as Prince. Funky Cold Medina and Donna Summer.

Then we made a dessert bar and piled our plates with cookies, Faith Hill's Coca Cola cake, and lemon meringue pie.

We piled onto the bed in the living room like a teenage slumber party and talked until the sugar high began to wear off and just before we got sleepy for good, we rallied for a last number.

Today's tip? Pretty obvious. Make time for the good times when you can. It makes everything else worth the effort.

Link on up if you will...

Middle School Randoms

2010-09-15T08:32:00.001-07:00

Random Tuesday on a Wednesday seems about right, yes?

My new job is still kicking my ass. I was at my last school for so long, I forgot how overwhelming a first year in a new school can be. Just when I think I have caught up with prepping and grading and miscellaneous paperwork, a tidal wave of work washes in and soaks me to the bone.

Middle school is such a different demon than high school. It could also be that I went from a middle income community to a low income community. But the kids are way needier than I am used to and have to be sat on to stay in tune. Their antics provide much blog fodder that I do not have time to write up properly.

But here is some random.

I have given detention in the last few weeks more than I ever did in the last 5 years.

For throwing bits of eraser at each other across the room.

For poking each other with pencils under the table. They are so sneaky I might not catch them, but the victims squeal.

For being not just tardy, but running late into the room like the running of the bulls in Spain, with the added feature of loud mouthed, off color remarks that get all the kids who were on task swept into the melee.

For taking the tennis balls off the chairs (split tennis balls are on all four legs of all chairs to keep the chair legs from scratching the floors...I mean I get it, let's keep the floors nice - but really...balls at the feet of 13 year olds with ants in the pants???). One student whipped the tennis ball out the door and over the rail and into the school yard. Another tried to juggle three in class, in front of me while I was teaching.

They do make me smile a lot though.

Yesterday when I was walking down the stairs at lunch, I could hear a chorus of them singing Lady Gaga. Prancing along the corridor.

Ga Ga Oh La La, I had to make a real effort to not swing and snap and prance as I walked to the cafeteria to get my lunch.

For more Random, head on over to Keeley's.

Sorry I haven't been around to visit of late. Hope to get control of my "me" time soon.