>Coping with the Storm

>Hunker down or evacuate? Depends on the storm.

Here in the Northern Reaches of the Midwest, we hunker down. Our storms are tornados, thunderstorms, blizzards, bitter cold temperatures, and (sometimes) floods. Most of the time, it’s not even enough to cancel a football game. We prepare by having flashlights, fresh batteries, candles, matches, and firewood. If power goes out, we can cook on the grill or eat cold sandwiches. If power goes out in winter, we put the frozen food in a cooler in the snow and all is well. Snowstorms usually leave the house intact.

The main danger in a storm is travel. In a blizzard, we stay home. Schools get cancelled (sometimes) or delayed until the plows can get through. In bitter cold below-zero weather, we dress in layers – many layers — before venturing out to get the paper or shovel snow. We Wisconsin natives pride ourselves on coping with the cold and the snow, but it’s a world of difference from the parts of the country that prepare to evacuate on sometimes little or no notice due due impending hurricanes or wildfires.

In my training as a Public Health Volunteer, the trainers kept impressing upon us that a true pandemic flu could stop all public interaction. Schools would close, most businesses would close, and people would be advised to stay home. Cutting out the outside world can stop the germs and viruses from spreading and potentially save lives. It would be the ultimate in hunkering down. How can we prepare for that?

I guess the best way to prepare would be to stop rambling on my blog and take inventory of the pantry and medicine chest. Here I go…do we have enough peanut butter to bake cookies?

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>Juggling — literally and figuratively

>In the final graduate class toward my Masters Degree, all of the class members were describing their personal growth and professional progress as they had passed through the program cycle. We were seated in a circle, my friend Sara next to me, and Deb was showing us a collection of photos that represented critical points in her educational journey. The classroom windows were tall and narrow and far apart, so only those of us sitting exactly in the right place could see outside. Beyond the window behind Deb, on an entrance road that passed rather close to the building, a juggler appeared.
Yes, a juggler. Big yellow shoes, baggy black clown pants, bowling-pin style clubs spiraling through the air. Sara and I exchanged glances, then looked back at Deb and tried to concentrate. The juggler walked on, and a parade of dog-walkers following him. This group of people — it had to be at least 75 to 100, just counting the two-legged folk — strode along as though they were marching for a cause (which was probably the case!). By this time, Sara and I could no longer look at each other. The longer the line went on, the closer we came to laughing. As the dogs and their humans paraded down the road out of sight, a helicopter landed on the campus lawn. Yes, a helicopter.
Deb had no idea.
Sara and I held onto our composure and used our best drama skills to at least feign focus until Deb was done. During our next break, we told her the whole story. Truth is stranger than fiction, and this was one of the strangest things to happen to us during grad school.
Five years later, we are still friends. Deb’s a fabulous teacher and a great juggler herself, a mother of three and teacher in a low-income school in our fair district. Her sense of humor took her through the cycle of graduate classes and served her yet again when we informed her of the sights she hadn’t even known were competing for our attention.
As the new year looms closer and my personal juggling act gathers momentum, I can’t help but think of the juggler who started the whole crazy parade outside the graduate school window. The symbolism remains strong; we might never know how many people around us are juggling. I won’t even try to address potential symbolism in the helicopter landing.

Parent Bloggers Network and BigTent asked bloggers to chronicle their goals and changes for 2009. For me, life always come down to the juggling act. This is a true story, a post renewed and revised one more time.
I’d love to get my act together and maybe even take it on the road for a while. But for now, I’d be satisfied to successfully juggle all the balls that life throws at me. Want to join my circus? Watch your step; the dogs are often a hard act to follow.

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>Midwinter Chili for the CrockPot

>In the bleak midwinter, Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Ingredients:
1 can chili beans, spiced
1 can black beans
1 lb. ground beef, browned and drained
1/4 cup diced green pepper
1/4 cup diced red pepper
1/2 small white or yellow onion, diced
1 tablespoon chili powder
optional: 1/4 cup spinach
1 quart tomato soup from the freezer!
(okay, you can substitute canned tomato sauce and/or tomato paste along with a can of tomatoes)

Add ingredients to crockpot in that order. Let simmer 4-6 hours on high or 6-8 on low. One hour before serving, add 1 cup noodles, stir, and turn heat to high.

Serve with your favorite sides for a hearty midwinter meal!
I like grated cheese on the top. Husband likes crackers. Kids both add ketchup, and I don’t object.
My favorite sides are fresh bread, cheese, or a side salad. Mmm.

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>Big Words for the season

>Dear Santa;

Every year you get letter upon letter saying, “I want this. I want that.” Some are more polite, saying Please and asking how you are. This year may be no different… or will it?

There are some Big Words out there in the world that strike fear into a lot of adults. Economy. Recession. Layoffs. Unemployment. Debt. Kids don’t always understand meanings of these words, but they feel the stress that comes from the situations. The younger the children, the more likely they’ll feel the emotional turmoil and the less likely they’ll understand it.

Santa, I know it doesn’t feel right to stuff a stocking with soap and shampoo. Those are supposed to be necessities, not gifts. But this year, the little gifts might be even more important. Crayons. Pencils. Markers. Paper.
I’m giving my students a little cup of goodies. They’ll each get a pack of tissues, a new pencil, a candy cane. If I can swing it, they’ll each get a white-board marker, too. The candy cane is the only frivolous item, but I know they’ll enjoy the others, too.
You see, Santa, the little ones in my class get colds whether they’re rich or poor. Germs don’t discriminate. And the tissues in my classroom are running out, with the generic scratchy products left to take us through the winter. If a kiddo has his or her own little package of something soft, maybe that will be a small pleasure for those noses that rival Rudoph’s in redness.
There’s a big gap between the haves and the have-nots in my school. Some families bought their kids big packages of white board markers. Some couldn’t afford to even buy one. When I’m working with white boards as a check for understanding, you can guess which kids need to beg or borrow markers. Santa, if you and I can help these kids out, they won’t have to feel depressed every time we get out the white boards. The students from less-well off families can reach into their own desks to get supplies of their own.
The other day I heard a teacher complain, “Flash cards? Who gets flash cards in their stocking at Christmas?!” I understand. It’s kind of like getting underwear for a holiday gift; what fun is that? So along with the marker and the tissues, I’ll give a holiday pencil. Plain yellow #2 just wouldn’t have the same impact as something in red or green or another festive design. It’ll let the kids get their schoolwork done and still make the season bright.

Money, Santa, is not a children’s problem. It’s a grown-up problem. But the problems inherent in today’s economic crisis trickle down to children’s everyday lives. When parents have to choose between buying shoes for their kids or paying the rent, kids feel the pain. When parents can’t afford healthy snacks for mid-morning, kids get hungry. When the car doesn’t start and the parents don’t have the discretionary bucks to fix it, the young ones have to walk to school in the bitter cold. It takes time for those little ones to physically warm up enough to focus on learning.

Santa, I’d love to ask you to deliver safety and warmth and some basics to each and every child in need. But I know that you and your elves can’t solve these economic problems any more than I can. All of us will just have to tighten our belts, give where we can, and most of all, understand. Let’s understand that when parents lose their jobs, kids suffer. And let’s take care of the small things, like markers and pencils and candy canes, so that their suffering is limited even a little bit.

Thanks Santa. Have a Happy Holiday. Hug the elves and reindeer for me.

Lots of love,
Daisy

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>How Green can I be?

>I don’t like wrapping paper. It gets used once and then thrown away. It’s not recyclable, we can’t burn it in the fireplace, and re-using it is difficult if not nearly impossible. So what’s an environmentally friendly mama to do? I re-use paper when I can, I keep gift bags until they fall apart, and set up a box for the cut-up cards that become our tags every year.
It still seems wasteful.

I’ve set myself a goal. Goals need to be realistic, so I set this one high enough to make a difference, but not so high I’ll be sure to fail.

I’m determined to use no new wrapping paper this holiday season.

I can use scraps that are already on our wrapping shelves. I can re-use bags and tissue, bows and curling ribbon. But I won’t buy new wrapping paper, no matter how cute or special.

I’ve salvaged packing materials, especially the large pieces of butcher paper that cushion the smaller boxes within the big ones. Flattened, that paper makes a great base for wrapping. I can decorate it with cards or ribbons or other small pieces of wrapping material, and it’ll look reasonably festive.

My family won’t buy into my project. I know that already. They fuss when I take care to open presents so I can reuse the paper. But I set this goal for me alone, and I don’t plan to force it on the rest of the crew.

Here’s the first. We have a couple of birthdays to celebrate over Thanksgiving holiday. This one is wrapped in off-white packaging, decorated with pieces from one of last year’s holiday newsletters and a bow, and then one of my own specialized gift tags.

Off we go; for a Christmas that’ll be at least greener, if not green.

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>In the eye of the beholder

>Loveliest of trees… or at least one of them. It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood when the trees look like this.

It’s not so lovely when the road signs look like this. And this sign was quite readable, compared to the other road signs that we needed to read to reach our destination on Monday morning.

It was the kind of weather that made us decide to take a detour into a Farm and Fleet store and buy Amigo a new pair of boots. These were not inexpensive boots, either. They fit, they’re warm, and he can handle them himself. I call it an investment. I hope his feet are done growing for now….
You can see the evidence in the parking lot. The roads were that sloppy, too. My vehicle is so grungy that even my visually impaired teenager remarked, “Mom, your van is a mess.”
A snow- and road salt-covered minivan is just not as pretty as a snow-covered tree.

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>Shoulds are bogus, even in a snowstorm

>Ah, contradictions. This is a case for “Shoulds are Bogus.”

The school for the blind should be more flexible in receiving kids who do not take their buses.
Reality: Their dorm staff doesn’t arrive until a certain time, and that’s that.
End result: I had to plan to drop him off late in the evening, and then either find a hotel or make my way home over back roads late at night. In the snow. During deer season.

I should have left earlier in the day.
Reality: Amigo couldn’t get into his dorm at the school for the blind until 7:30 PM at the earliest, so leaving earlier was pointless.
End result: We watched the Packer game at home and then left.

We should have changed plans completely, leaving early Monday morning.
Reality: We didn’t know the weather would be as bad as it was or the traffic as slow as it was.
End result: We changed plans as we got closer to our first destination.

I should have prepared Amigo for the possibility of change.
Reality: Having too many options can cause him to melt down just as much as a sudden change can. There was really no way to prepare him.
End result: He had a meltdown in the van.

I should be grateful we found a hotel room down the road from La Petite’s apartment.
Reality: I’m very grateful. In fact, the other hotel in the town near Amigo’s school cancelled my reservation with no charge. I’m grateful for that, too.
End result: We’re nearly the only customers here, in this hotel in a small college town. It’s very quiet.

And shoulds or not, I’m glad we have a safe and warm place to lay our heads and rest. No matter what the morning brings, we’ll be all right.
And the hotel room has a coffeemaker, so at least one of us will be happy in the morning.

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>Random thoughts on a long Thanksgiving weekend

>The makers of stuffing mix recommended twice as much stuffing as needed. Twice as much! Next year I’ll know better. But I like stuffing, so it’s not really a problem to have leftovers.

I wish I could have composted the coffee filters and coffee grounds yesterday. I made three pots total. Oh, the guilty feeling of throwing these in the garbage!

The turkey carcass made a great soup stock. There was just enough leftover turkey for two containers: One for sandwiches, one scraps for soup.

Cloth napkins are definitely the way to go. Gather them up after the meal, throw them in the laundry basket, and wash them with the dish towels. If we’d used paper, each person would have used at least two, and the pile would have filled half a garbage bag. The decision to use cloth might help ease my guilt about the coffee grounds and filters (see above).

We have a tiny kitchen in our Victorian home. I call it a “one person kitchen,” but Husband and I managed to work in it together. I stuffed the turkey and settled it in the oven, then Iron Chef Husband took over and made the sides. We worked side by side as I made the gravy while he carved the turkey. After all was said and done, the meal was delicious. We were both tired enough that if we hadn’t had guests, I think both of us would have napped after the leftovers landed in the fridge.

A crockpot is great for stuffing. I put as much in the turkey as I could and then cooked the rest in the crockpot. My poor worn out crockpot, that is, with the falling-off handle and the rust stains on the sides from steam and condensation. The crock, the actual cooking pot, is in great shape. the outer piece is not.

My family loves my crockpot soups and other creations enough that they arranged a new crockpot for my birthday! Daughter stopped at an outlet mall on the way home from her college campus and bought me a brand new crockpot AND Little Dipper! I’ve never had a Little Dipper, so I predict all kinds of fun ahead.

La Petite has been 21 for almost a full year now. I’m still adjusting to the fact that she can drink wine or beer at dinner and not need our permission to do so. So far she’s shown a knack for drinking only in moderation, thank goodness.

Amigo thinks he wants to go shopping on Black Friday. He says he doesn’t want to shop, but wants to “see the chaos.” Not a chance, kiddo. Not if it’s up to me. Now if La Petite wants to take him…that’s another story.

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>Magic Blankie

>It’s just a blanket throw, offwhite in color, nothing special to look at. But it’s down filled, and cozy as can be.

Magic Blanket comes with us in the car or minivan on long road trips. It lives on the couch most of the time — except when one kid or the other takes it for their own. Amigo will wrap up in it on the den floor while he watches college football. La Petite will nab it for her futon when she comes home to visit.

I always ‘steal’ it back.

I call it Magic Blankie because it is my favorite for naps. Amigo doesn’t get the whole nap concept. “Mom, why do you nap? Why don’t you just sleep in?” “Well, honey, I’m not a teenager.” “Huh?”

Amigo calls it Magic Blankie because it makes him feel better when he’s sick.

Whatever the reason, this ordinary-looking blanket is a keeper. Who says toddlers are the only ones with blankets? Not me. In fact, as soon as I put the turkey in the oven, I’m going to curl up with the newspaper, a cup of coffee, and Magic Blankie.

Happy Love Thursday, everyone, and have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day. May the magic be not just in your blankies, but also in your hearts.

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>Tools of the Trade

>

Blogging, besides being fun and therapeutic, has its occasional perks. I was the random lucky winner of a gift card from Parent Bloggers Network, and the card came yesterday. But the box was rather large for just a gift card.
Thanks to Butterball Turkeys and Parent Bloggers Network, I’ll be cooking up Thanksgiving in a brand new roasting pan and carving it with a new knife on an amazing new cutting board.

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