Backpack Treasures from The Middles

A short list (and a classic photo) to break this blogger's silence

Things that face almost certain doom in my household:

1) Puzzles
2) Card games
3) Pairs of socks

The West Academy Club for the Mechanically Declined, ca 1985

My Dad and my next-door-neighbor dad used to joke about their mutual lack of handy-manliness. Both musicians (though of decidedly different ilks -- my dad: classical, next-door-neighbor dad: country), they semi-kiddingly formed a private club for the "Mechanically Declined." They took turns being president or vice president. If one or the other was caught successfully fixing something in his home or yard, the other was promoted to the presidency of the club. They went back and forth for years.

A more typical way of teasing our own weaknesses might be to say: "When they handed out {X, Y, or Z Quality}, I must've been out to lunch." Or, "I missed the line for {brains, beauty, spelling ability, or what-have-you}."

All that is to say, I think Tom and I BOTH missed the line, the boat, the doling-out of housekeeping prowess! Combine this lack of knack for neatness with four kids and you get a messy house that swallows up puzzles, cards or any games with small pieces, and socks...lots and lots of socks!

I've fallen...but I CAN get up! (A slightly bizarre self pep talk)

C3PO in Fondant @ Cake Central http://bit.ly/10kfFso

I'm wearing winter like a coat, a 12-pound layer of C3PO (Cake + Cookies + Candy = Pounds On!). Easter is here. I'll celebrate by nibbling on the contents of my children's baskets while I stuff them...and myself -- black licorice jelly beans ("The kids won't like that kind anyhow"), Cadbury Mini Creme Eggs ("These are really gooey and they'll make a mess if I let them have too many"), and Reese's Pieces that come in carrot-shaped bags that I fall for annually. And then -- Then! -- I'll "set my face like a flint" toward the Albion Strawberry Festival Race...the 8k!!!!!!!! Oh, yes -- "I am determined to start afresh."

A scene from Pride & Prejudice, Maria to Lizzy: "Lady Catherine was so severe about the only right way to place gowns, that I couldn't sleep! I am determined to start afresh."

Wifely grumps and grounds for gratitude

I don't like it when Tom buys the coffee
Because occasionally he brings home the wrong blend
And I can't stand the taste of it for the week--
Blechhh!

I don't like it when Tom makes the coffee
Because he almost always puts the filter in funny
And gets grounds in the bottom of the brew--
Blechhh!

I don't like it when Tom buys the milk
Because he sometimes picks the Walmart kind
   (which has a pink cap on the skim,
   which looks too much like the red cap on the whole)
And I end up pouring skim milk into my coffee
Double blech--it's watery and sedimentary!

But, man-oh-man, I love that man--
Who shops for groceries and serves me coffee
And washes the cups I drink from,

Grounds and all.

Why my brother used to call me "Amazon Girl"...

Albion McD's, 1982. The other girls are 6 mos-1 yr younger than I. What can I say? Boltons know how to grow 'em!

Good enough, doggoneit!

I am jealous of people whose last name is “Goodenough.” I just saw someone’s name like that—the friend of a friend on Facebook. So-and-so commented on _______ Goodenough’s status: “so cool!!” That was the comment, as well as my sentiment about that last name. Granted, Rivers is a pretty, poetic (and pretty poetic) moniker. So I suppose it’s good enough. (Ha!)

As you can see, I’m still geeking out over National Grammar Day yesterday. National Grammar Day! (Spoken in repeat-for-emphasis mode, à la Josh from Drake and Josh. Only the parents of tweens and teens who read this blog are likely to understand what I mean about that.) To celebrate the occasion, I attended a webinar put on by Poynter called, “This Ain’t Your Grandma’s Grammar.” I lapped it up like a kid with an ice cream cone on a steamy summer day.

My book group recently read a memoir called Angry Conversations with God. Even though I had enjoyed hearing from the author, Susan Isaacs, at last year’s Festival of Faith and Writing, I didn’t like the book as much as I’d hoped I would. I won’t get into the various reasons why, but there was one part in particular that resonated with me. Isaacs is describing her adolescent angst in finding her place in the world (start with “My brother Jim...”):

Excerpt from Angry Conversations With God: A Snarky But Authentic Spiritual Memoir, By Susan E. Isaacs

When people talk words, they’re playing my note! Especially the kind of word talk associated with Poynter, which bears a decidedly journalistic bent. Yesterday’s speaker, Roy Peter Clark, distinguished between the old-school grammarian and the more practical rhetorician I think I am. Some people are pedantic about enforcing the right-proper rules. Other folks like me just wanna live our lives and try to tell some good stories. My stories, other people’s stories, God’s Story. There are many situations, of course, in which carefully constructed sentences are most suitable. But other times it’s cool to let it all hang out, spout a cliché or two, and pick a sentence to end a preposition in. (OK, that’s a forced example, but you get the notion.) Clark said the key is knowing when to don your tuxedo and when to wear the wrinkly tie-dyed T-shirt. I suppose the ability to make that distinction shows a certain level of panache in itself. 

One of my college professors said that the meaning of piety was “what properly goes with what.” I’m not sure that’s a spot-on definition, but I do believe in the power of context. And in that spirit, I’m giving myself some grace. I’ve been hard on myself this winter for packing on a few pounds since last summer. But—hello!—it’s winter! Many mammals hibernate in this season of scarcity, bleakness, and cold, so isn’t it natural that I’d be inclined to consume a few thousand extra calories between Christmas and Easter? In this climate/context? You bet! I was so excited to be wearing a size 12, and now I’m back up to a 14. But guess what? It’s Goodenough!