It’s March, and it’s Madness.

My March Madness doesn’t revolve around a basketball.tournament.

The only brackets in my March Madness are those that hold up shelves.

On the outside, my March Madness looks like this.

Snow on snow on snow.

Snow on snow on snow.

Indoors, I decided to fight the Madness with this.

Planting time!

Planting time!

I planted seeds for pepper plants. There’s something about the smell of dirt that helps release the madness of March. There’s a sweet satisfaction in filling a bucket with snow (see it, on the right?) just to let it melt, and then watering seeds with it. The rain barrels are still upside down and snow-covered, but I CAN and I WILL find ways to be green.

The deck may be snowy, but spring is on the way.

 

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Week Six, and back to work!

Timing is everything, isn’t it? I planned my surgery for the last week in January to avoid the Super Bowl (wishful thinking on the part of this Packer fan) and to finish my first semester report cards before letting a long term sub take over, along with the reasoning of Get This Over With Now because I’m So Done With These Symptoms Already!

I managed to be in the hospital overnight during one of the coldest, most frigid stretches of the winter. In this case, I was lucky. I had as many blankets as I wanted, decent heat, a view (6th floor room!), and oatmeal for breakfast.  Unrelated as those might seem, all are important when the air outside is so crystal clear that boiling water tossed out a window will freeze in mid-air.

The real advantage of having surgery as the polar vortex arrived was the aspect of sick leave. My six weeks of medical leave landed me on a couch with blankets and fresh coffee while my dear darling coworkers were wrapped in sweaters, thick tights, blankets, and fingerless gloves just to survive the drafts that kept sneaking into the office environment. They sent me nice emails saying things like, “Stay home and stay warm!” “You planned this perfectly!” and “Don’t even consider coming back early!”

So I didn’t. Even though it crossed my mind during weeks Four and Five, I held onto my patience and stuck it out. Now it’s Week Six, the End of the Rest and Recovery Period, and I’m ready to go back and retake my cubicle.

I have questions, though. As usual, I have questions.

  • Are they still making coffee in the closet? Or do I need to bring my own?
  • Is my blanket still tucked in the cupboard with the science and social studies teachers’ manuals? Will I need it?
  • Should I take the stairs or ease into it by taking the elevator for a few days?
  • Will anyone bring donuts? Or bagels? To welcome me back, or maybe just because? Or will they expect me to bake something to celebrate my own return?
  • Do I already have enough lessons planned? I know I sketched out the semester’s units in January. Am I ready for Monday, or should I spend some of Friday looking over my calendar and files?
  • It’ll be mid March when I return. Will I need my fingerless gloves?

Readers, do you have advice for me?

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As Seen on TV

“Chuck” saw a feature on a dairy product the other day and asked me to do some online research. He’d heard about Kefir Milk, a probiotic type drink. Now, knowing my interest in all things organic and delicious, you might be wondering, “Daisy, how is it that you live and blog in the great dairy state of Wisconsin and you’ve never had kefir?” Gulp. Sheepishly, I admit it’s true.

So anyway, we did some research, including looking up local stores that sell it. Chuck bought a quart of blueberry flavored kefir last weekend. Then he said to me, “Which one of us will be the first to try it?” This didn’t make sense. He’d heard about the product. He’d asked me to do the research. He’d bought the first carton of kefir. What was he waiting for?

I gave in first. I had a small glass of kefir with my chef salad for lunch today. I sent Chuck an email saying so, and I included this small review.

I tried the Kefir. It’s kind of thick, and the texture is unusual, but it was good. I had a small glass with lunch. I might like this better over cereal instead of as a meal beverage. It’s like drinking yogurt, kind of.

We are a household of touchy tummies here at the O.K. Chorale, so kefir might be a good addition to our diets.

What would a TV post be without a few closed captioning blunders? These two follow a theme, sort of, unintentionally.

The captioner typed, “bizarre Nicholas III.” No judgments on the bizarreness of his reign or his personality was intended, I’m sure. The reporter really said “by Czar Nicholas III.” Okay, then. They were discussing the Trans-Siberian Railroad at the time.

Amigo and I enjoy relaxing with MeTV in the afternoons. We tune in for Dragnet, Adam 12, and a favorite from my teen years, Emergency! I think Amigo has figured out that I had a crush on paramedic Johnny Gage back when the show was new. Shh. 

Sound effects are usually noted in brackets – not to be confused with the Dr. Brackett character in the ER at Rampart Hospital – like this: [Sirens] The closed caption still had her mind in Russia, I fear. The text on the screen read [Siberians]. That’s a mighty long trip for Squad 51 from Los Angeles.

Ah, television. It entertains, but not always intentionally.

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The New MomVan and Tummy Aches

It seems like yesterday that Chuck was complaining of a stomach ache, refusing to take fiber, and then talking trash about my minivan. Remember this exchange?

“Here, dear, I found a jar of Metamucil for you.”
“I’m not ready.”
“Not ready?”
“I like my Saturn. I don’t want to drive a Buick yet.”
“I took it years ago when I was pregnant with Amigo.”
“And look what you drive now!”

My minivan — he’d dissed my minivan! The minivan that took us on more than a few vacations, moved La Petite to and from college, brings big batches of yard waste to the brush dump every summer, took my carpool to graduate classes for two years, and more!

My poor Pontiac Transport finally entered its last days when we discovered the power steering was showing signs of failing. It was a ’98 vehicle, old enough, and we’d put plenty of bucks into repair and routine maintenance. It was time.

Vehicle Replacement Procedure requires time: time for research and time for shopping. Time, of course, is something we don’t have in abundance. Decisions take time, too. Did we need another vehicle with cargo space? Or could we buy a sedan instead? Did that cargo space need to be a minivan, or would a small to medium SUV fit our needs? We did a little research, figured out what we could afford, and then started looking.

And then we got lucky. Chuck was filling his car (his Subaru) with gas at the Fleet Farm gas station to make use of the gas coupon we get every time we shop there. He glanced across the street to a used car lot and noticed a late model minivan with a sign in it proclaiming it Manager’s Special. He crossed the street and looked it over. 2012 Dodge Caravan, reasonable mileage, in our price range – what could be wrong?

We asked that exact question the next day when we took a short test drive. Everything looked good, and we were ready to take the next step: the Complete Test Drive. All three of us (Chuck, me, Amigo) came out to the lot for a test drive. While Amigo and I played with controls and explored the many features, Chuck drove to a nearby mechanic. The mechanic checked it over, pointed out a few things, and pronounced the vehicle healthy and sound and a good deal.

The next day, I emptied the personal items (Kleenex boxes, snow brush, tire gauges) from the Transport and drove it to the dealer for paperwork and trade-in. To make a long story short, we did it. The 2012 Caravan is now in the garage, my cell phone charger and garage door opener installed in their proper places.

And perhaps the best part of the story: everyone is healthy. No tummy aches in the family, fiber or no fiber, at the moment. I think I’ll bake some nuts and twigs banana bread just to keep things in order.

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Read Across America

Malala books are powerful

(as seen on Facebook)

In my life, I’d use a different turn of phrase. I’d most likely substitute tools for weapons. But in Malala’s life, the act of seeking an education was radical and law breaking. She saw books and learning as tools, but also as weapons: weapons to fight the good fight, tools to achieve great things.

The pen is mightier than the sword- and so is the desktop publisher. What remains is the reader. If the reader is taught to think and analyze, to seek understanding, then the book itself can be powerful.

 

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