Category Archives: family life

>Every story, new or ancient —

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>You might be a Green Bay Packer fan if:

  • You have so much Green and Gold in your wardrobe you wear it all week and year round.
  • Your team shirts are both official NFL sanctioned — and unofficial.
  • The unofficial pieces are more fun.
  • Everything piece you wear has a story.

Here’s the story on this one, modeled by Amigo, age 14.

A few years ago, I was wandering our downtown shops with my brother and his wife, buying a few Christmas presents. Our downtown has mainly small shops, very amenable to browsing, many family-owned and staffed. We saw this t-shirt hanging in the window of a shop that specialized in collectibles and knick-knacks. It was a little out of character for the shop, but it caught our attention.
“Hey, brother, Dad would wear this.”
“Um, but I already bought him a present from the bookstore. So did you.”
“My kids don’t have anything for him yet. They’ll love it.”
“You two need to buy this. Your dad would definitely wear it.”
So we headed into the store, asked for the Cheesehead shirt in a large, and the owner found one and wrapped it up for us. As he did so, he told us a story. Brett Favre and his mother, Bonita, had a new book out (Yes, I own a copy). Bonita had been at the bookstore down the street for an autograph session just a few weeks earlier. One of the fans in line had been wearing a shirt like this. She laughed at the image, said she loved it, and asked where he’d bought it. She then sent a family member down the street to buy a St. Brett shirt for her and one for her sister.
We included a note with the gift telling our Dad that he was in good company, that Brett’s mom and aunt both owned shirts just like his. He was thrilled.
Dad passed away last December. We went through his Packer apparel (he had a lot!) and divided it up between us. Amigo now proudly wears the St. Brett, Patron Saint of Cheeseheads. And when people tell him how cool it is, he responds with a thanks and an acknowledgement that yes, if Mom Favre can wear one, it must be cool.

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>The first real snow

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>The first snow changes everything. Earlier in the week, I was outside without a jacket. Now I’m pulling out the gloves and scarves and making sure my car is equipped with its snow brush and ice scraper. My students were so excited they asked if I would turn out the classroom lights so they could stand at the window and watch the snow fall. I said yes. I recognized the excitement of the first snowfall and let them express it. The clouds were so heavy that it was quite dark outside, and we could see the large flakes drifting to the playground where they became more slush than snow. The kids were amazing; when I turned the lights back on and asked them to settle, they did so calmly with satisfied smiles on their faces. Most are native to Wisconsin; snow is nothing new. But they still feel a thrill when the first flakes fall and the landscape changes. I understand; I feel the same thrill.

By the time I got home, the snow was sticking to everything. After supper, it was completely dark outside. In the view out front: the bench where Amigo often waits for his bus is covered.
In summer, this shepherd’s crook held my lovely ivy geraniums. Now it has its own beauty, with the white snow on its black iron finish.
But below you’ll see the evidence of my neglect. This is what happens when I don’t get the deck furniture put away in time.


Ah, well, I’ll brush the snow off, bring in the cushions, and dry them off. All will be well. Winter, in its own loveliness, is here to stay.

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>Funday Sunday

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>You might be a Green Bay Packer fan if:

  • you pronounce the name of the Louvre the “Lurv”*
  • you call your Buick LaSabre a “LaSarb”*
  • you plan Packer Vegetables for Thanksgiving dinner
  • when you cook on the grill, you call it a Tailgate party
  • it’s not a question of whether to wear Packer garb, it’s a question of which piece
  • you still call Mardi Gras beads “Super Bowl Beads”
  • you’ve been overheard referring to the team as “We…”
  • you drown your sorrows after a game like today’s with Skittles in your favorite team colors!


(Okay, for those not in the know, the record-holding quarterback’s name is Favre, pronounced ‘Farv’)

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>Mugs and Memories

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>This coffee mug is a big one. I use it when I want a little extra coffee or tea or a hot cocoa with all the fixins. It’s special in two ways. The back of the mug, shown in the top photo, advertises the Mielke Institute, an opportunity clothed in 3 graduate credits for local teachers of all ages, kindergarten through high school. The Mielke Foundation pays everything: tuition, meals, materials, the works. During the week, about 25 – 30 participants focus on a theme and work with college professors to examine that theme and how it relates to teaching every day. It’s an amazing week of learning, thinking, and analyzing, and comparing notes with other teachers.

The other side of the mug shows Lawrence University, the campus where the classes and seminars are held. This part is extra special because I attended LU (not that long ago, the dinosaurs no longer roamed the campus). Husband, my college sweetheart, can also look over the drawing, too, and reminisce about our days on this lovely campus.

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>Da Code Cabe Back

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>Yes, the symptoms that I blamed on seasonal allergies have taken hold and are making me miserable. Therefore, my plan for the day is:
Drink liquids. (coffee in my “So many books…so little time” mug)
Eat a grapefruit.
Drink more liquids (warm apple cider with a cinnamon stick in my “ducks in a row” mug).
Rest.
Eat chicken soup for lunch.
Drink more liquids (orange spice tea: choose a mug, any mug).
Watch football game.
Nap.
Drink more liquids (yet to be planned).
Have chicken soup for supper.
Go to bed early.

I’m sure there’s some over-the-counter medicine that will help ease the symptoms. I’ll take some, but mainly, I’m working on flooding my immune system with fluids and vitamin C and other anti-virus protections. In the meantime, I think I’ll go slice a grapefruit. Do peanut butter cookies count as anti-cold food? I can only hope. The November posts will be much more interesting if I’m feeling better.

Update: I am feeling a bit better. The Packers’ win over Arizona helped. Amigo helped by cheering loudly when I couldn’t for fear of coughing my guts up. Apple cider, cinnamon tea, and a variety of mugs have all contributed to my improvement. I still plan to go to bed early and sleep deeply until morning.

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>It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood

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>We don’t have a cute little trolley (although there was a trolley line that ran at the end of our block about a century ago) but it really was a beautiful day in our neighborhood. Today was one of those days when Mother Nature reminds us that winter is on the way, but not here quite yet. Even though the furnace is on and the winter coats are hanging in the mudroom, we don’t need to break out the snowblower for at least a little while.
It was a balmy 51 degrees after lunch when I decided to abandon my to-do list and play, I mean work, outside in the yard. I threw on a thick sweatshirt (my Game Day Green Bay sweatshirt, for those in the know) over my long sleeved tee and my windpants, grabbed an old pair of shoes and headed out. I put Tiny Bunny in what’s left of the garden. He bounced around a bit, enjoying the scraps of parsley that had been too small to harvest, and then settled in “his” box for a nap. Meanwhile, I cleaned his litter box, emptied the flowerpots on the deck, and rinsed them all with the hose. There was just enough breeze to air-dry the whole batch. I tossed the dead tomato plants on the brush pile, stacked and stored the tomato cages, and then stirred the compost to mix in a bit of old, dry potting soil. It will sit and decompose all winter and then become part of the garden soil next spring.
My to-do list, made last night, was full of housebound items. Help Amigo with Math. Wash & Change Sheets. Order Prescription Refills. Well, I did help Amigo with his math, and I started the sheets, but the rest of the list will have to wait. The late fall weather was just too nice to pass on the chance to get outside.
It’s not exactly a pretty day. The peak fall colors have long gone. Our lawn is still fairly green, and it is covered by a blanket of leaves from the silver maple in the yard behind ours. I’m resisting raking because half the leaves are still on the tree. The garden is just a big hunk of brown dirt with a light blanket of the same leaves and a few birch leaves blown in from next door to hide the die-hard chives that won’t give up. The wild raspberries have quit, too, but the green onions underneath are still competing with the chives for my attention.
I wasn’t the only one in this state of mind. I heard lawnmowers, leafblowers, and the scritch-scratch of a rake in a nearby yard. One neighbor was covering his fishing boat, and yet another laid in a supply of cut wood for his woodstove while his kids played on their jungle gym.
To top off this lovely fall day, I picked chives and green onions to add to my superburgers and fired up the charcoal grill. Mmmm.
The trolley doesn’t come our way anymore, but it’s still a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Mr. Rogers would have been very comfortable here today.

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>The sun’ll come out tomorrow…

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>Sing with me: Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya, tomorrow….

Okay, enough. Tomorrow may be a busy day — or not. I need to take Husband to the endodontists for a root canal or two. He will be on some massive painkillers, so I need to drive him. Fortunately, the timing is such that Amigo has school and I don’t, so I can do this without wasting a sick day or needing child care. I’ll pack up a stack of Time magazines and pick up a cappucino on the way and catch up on news and caffeine in the lobby while he suffers. Er…gets his teeth fixed.

We are waiting to hear from Husband’s mom, too. His dad went into the hospital with chest pains last night. From MIL’s description, it sounds to me like a narrowly averted heart attack. Practical woman that she is, MIL called 911 as soon as she knew he was having chest pains. She overruled his grumbling and called the professionals. I say to her: You go, girl! It’s better to overreact than underreact when a heart attack is threatening to rear its ugly head.

So as we wait for word on the Husband’s parental unit, we’ll make sure Amigo has his homework done and we have all of our ducks in a row for the endodontist tomorrow morning. I’ll make soft foods (jello, etc.) in case Husband is both in pain and hungry tomorrow. I did that last December when La Petite had her wisdom teeth out. But that’s another post entirely, and it hasn’t been written yet. Maybe in November during NaBloWriMo, if I’m really hard up for a post, I’ll tell you stories of dealing with La Petite and her wisdom. Teeth, that is.

Update: FIL is home and doing fine. Hospital determined it was severe acid reflux. He is grumpy, by happy to be out of the hospital.
Husband’s teeth have been rooted — or de-rooted, as the case may be. He’s tired (so am I), so he’s napping. I napped already. 🙂

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