Wearing o' the Pink

Mitchell Boyd, OL, #76

My mastectomy was just over a year ago and though I know that my body has been changed significantly, for the most part the surgery and its lingering aftereffects are no longer foremost on my mind.  Since it's not exactly a going concern for me, I am always awkwardly surprised and amused to find it is for those who know me.

For example, my colleague JY and I don't cross paths as often as I would like, but when we do, she always asks how I am feeling, while very carefully avoiding any downward glance at my chest.  I know what her intention is and I appreciate it but the so very pointed way she keeps her eyes fixed on my face actually makes me squirm more than if she just moved her eyes normally.  It doesn't help that she is very petite and is normally at my chest level anyway.

The flip side of that are the people who think they are being subtle when they steal quick downward glances.  Today I saw one of the ladies who subbed for me during my absence last year; she said hello to my face, stared at my chest for a second then said, "How ARE you?"  I wish I could have thrown my voice to make my chest respond...

I never kept my health a secret so many of the current seniors were aware of the situation even though, at the time, they were not actually in my class.  Some, however, were not.  One of the oblivious ones asked if I intended to give blood at an upcoming blood drive:

"I can't right now." 
"How come?"
"Because I had surgery within the past 12 months."
"What surgery?"  From the other seniors present, "Shut up, stupid!  You know which surgery; the one..." (accompanied by a wave of the hand in the general breast area)
"Ohhhh, THAT surgery..."

The juniors were sophomores at the time and since I was actually their teacher, they are the ones who were most affected by my procedure and subsequent 6-week absence.  Whether it's because they were all in the know from the very start or simply because they are just a different breed (when compared to the seniors!), their concern and their many ways of expressing it has always felt natural and easy.  JP would screech, "Boobies!" when she saw me and slap me a high five.  She was the first to hug me as soon as she knew that it was not painful to do so. DM would say, "How are the girls, Miss?"  They'd offer to carry things for me, pass things out, lift things.  Even after I assured them I could do these things for myself.

I don't have the juniors for class this year but I still feel the same warm concern in the little things they do; popping their heads in during recess or passing time to yell hello, bringing me flowers on my birthday, writing little cards and leaving them on my desk for me to find. Yesterday, I received one of the sweetest tributes I have ever had.  MB, an offensive lineman on our school's football team, showed me a brand-new pair of bright pink football cleats that he bought to wear for Breast Cancer Awareness month in October.  Then he asked me to sign them.

A 200+ pound lineman wearing hot pink cleats for me.  No other honor will ever replace this one.

The Real Ninja Turtle

Minka the Russian tortoise and Chestnut the box turtle have a common wall between their enclosures.  A few months ago, I started finding Chestnut on Minka's side happily engaging in what he thought was mating behavior.  According to photos I've seen, he had the correct general idea.  His hind feet wrapped around her hind legs--check.  His body nearly vertical and then a slight tilt backward--check.  The rapt expression--check.  But no contact.  Perhaps someone should have shown him the photos because Minka is just not built the same way a female box turtle would be. 

Despite the obvious lack of rewards, he just won't quit.  Getting to Minka means scaling a cinder block wall that I have gradually been increasing in height just to make sure that he stays on his side, then a drop of more than two feet into her side of the enclosure.  Until yesterday, we weren't even sure if he was indeed climbing or if he had found a chink in the wall somewhere.  I just happened to look out the family room window and Eric managed to catch the culprit in the act:

See the little stinker on top of the red brick near the fence?

His efforts earned him a quick trip back to his side of the pen and additional bricks added to the wall.  We'll see how long that holds him!

Farley and Dog Behavior 101

When Kirby was around, I came to the conclusion that all dogs come equipped with a built-in reference manual that tells them how to respond to affection, stuffed toys, the prospect of a walk, an unhappy human, the mailman, etc..  You know, the kind of behaviors guaranteed to elicit a happy human response, which in turn, would generate a warm cycle of appropriate action and positive reactions.


Well, judging by Farley's antics, either his manual is defective or large sections were left out of the final editing.  I give you, Dog Behavior 101, The Farley Edition:

"Chapter 1:  Operation Affection":  Lean hard against your targeted human while gazing adoringly and blankly up into her face.  If her arm does not go around you on its own, you must encourage it by jamming your head into her armpit.  Be prepared; she will resist, so persistence is key!  Continue wiggling your head forward till the skin on your face is pulled back toward your neck and your eyes begin to bulge from the sockets.  This will freak the human out because popped eyeballs are a real danger in shallow-socketed dogs.  Use the fear to your advantage.  Bug your eyes out till she decides you are a danger to yourself.  Her arm will relax and automatically circle your body.  Mission accomplished.

"Chapter 2:  The Walk, Part I":  Walks are fun but it is important to get revved up before you even step outside.  When you see the human heading for the door, run in wide circles around her; if there is another dog, crash into him a few times to see if he will join in the dance.  If the human starts to sound exasperated, drop immediately into a sit--this action always convinces her that you are trying to do the right thing.  Now for the tricky part:  the leash.  Since you are not allowed to leave the house without it, it behooves you to get it in place as quickly as possible.  When the human begins lowering the loop, attempt to leap into it.  If your legs get tangled and pulled into awkward positions, keep trying.  Flailing wildly while panting loudly works wonders.  When the human leans over to adjust it around your neck, leap up onto your hind legs and hit her in the face with your nose and slobbery tongue.  Hear that noise she just made?  She appreciates the kiss! 

"Chapter 3:  The Walk, Part II":  She will make you wait before you exit the house and she does not want your help in opening the door; it is strongly suggested that you keep your right paw to yourself.  Now you are out the gate and on the sidewalk!  Here's where the real fun begins.  Walking your human helps her to keep in shape.  Varying your speed and direction without warning are good ways to keep her on her toes and will ensure that her mind stays agile; it helps to charge at leaves that blow by and lizards and roaches that scamper past as well.  One day she'll thank you.

"Chapter 4:  Demonstrate Your Loyalty":  Dogs are supposed to be loyal.  The best way to show your human your loyalty is to follow her incessantly.  If she goes to the bathroom, follow along and lay as close to the door as you possibly can.  If it fits, stick a paw underneath so she knows you are still there.  When she is carrying a large load of laundry down to the washer, accompany her down the stairs.  It is essential that you stay close to her feet and just when she thinks you are staying to the right, cross over to the left.  It's never a good idea to be too predictable.

"Chapter 5:  Sharing is Caring":  Nothing says, "I love you," like sharing what you have with the one you love most.  Shedding fur on black suits is always appreciated.  Wiping your dirty mouth against the couch cover is, too.  Grass, dead leaves, burrs and twigs can easily be collected with wide sweeps of a fringed tail--be sure to hit your human with said tail a few times to get her attention.  You don't want her to overlook the opportunity to treasure hunt.  Not after all that effort you put into gathering debris in the first place!

"Chapter 6:  Leave 'em Laughing":   Roll around on the couch with your legs in the air; it helps to have a long tongue that you can allow to loll to one side while in an upside down position.  Sit on the lawn and smell the dandelions.  Back yourself up against the nearest available leg and gyrate up and down.  And remember, always leave them feeling better no matter what state of mind they start out with. 

All Hail the Mighty...V?

T and I went to watch "Harry Potter" today.  The movie was good and I enjoyed it but I got the biggest laugh from one of the commercials that played prior to the film.  It definitely falls into the category of "Whoa, didn't see that one coming!"  I thought it was funny but there are a number of feminists who have their balls in an uproar over it.  Though I can see some of their points, I decided to let this one go.  T's reaction said it all:  "Really?" I only wish this blog could capture that mingled tone of disbelief and you're-kidding-me-right? tone in his voice. that pretty much said it all.

Just click on this blog's title and it'll take you there!

The (modified) Food Quest

As my sons are less than intrigued by the idea of "questing" and are more focused on the "consuming," I decided to expand our Food Quest; rather than focusing only on places we've never been to, I decided to include some of our great neighborhood eats--and there are a lot!

There is a little mall called City Square on Dillingham Boulevard--most of us don't know it by that name; we identify it as "the place where the DMV is located" or, if you are really old school, it's "where Gem's used to be." If you make your way behind the DMV and Chuck E. Cheese's, you will find a small wealth of good eating places and locally owned shops such as Ko'olau Farmers and Kalihi Pet Center.  Pancakes and Waffles can be found on the Kohou Street side.

I am partial to "breakfast" food and have no problem with eating it at any point during my day.  In addition to the expected offerings of bacon and omelets, P & W puts its own spin on classic dishes such as Eggs Benedict (beautifully poached eggs with Hollandaise sauce on 2 little, crispy brown waffles), and fried chicken and waffles (either served with brown gravy on the side or honey butter.  One dish that C especially loves is vinha d'alhos, a vinegary Portuguese pork that is reminiscent of Filipino adobo.

The meals run in the $10 and below range but servings are generous--the chicken and waffle plate comes with one large waffle and three large thighs!  Definitely enough to share or to satisfy the most significant of appetites.  Other pluses:  parking is plentiful and service is courteous and brisk.  A few downsides:  since they are only open till 2 PM they do get crowded; going during non-peak hours (10 AM, or so) is recommended;  drinks are self-serve and food is brought to your table after you order at the counter.  Minor points, but ones that some consumers may consider important to know.

Waffles for brunch, pancakes for dinner.  What's not to love?

Food Quest, Day 4.5

After having lunch at Choi's Garden, we ran a few errands and decided to stop off for some shave ice.  When you consider that Hawaii has perfect weather for shave ice and my family really enjoys eating it, you would think we would take the time to get it more often.  One of the biggest deciding factors for me is both places we frequent, Shimazu on School Street and Waiola on, well, Waiola Street, have horrible parking situations.  Shimazu is on a main thoroughfare and though there is metered parking nearby, on really hot, and therefore busy days, one's chances of getting a nearby slot are rather slim.  Waiola is on a corner in a fairly quiet residential area so parking is on a wherever-you-can-squeeze-into-that-does-not-have-a-fire-hydrant basis.

On this particular occasion, we found a nice sized space immediately across the street.  So far, so good!  Though there is always a line at Waiola, the service is brisk and we were munching on icy, fruity snow in minutes.

C ordered strawberry and lilikoi, I had lychee and strawberry and T decided on mango and lime.  Waiola's best qualities are a powdery, fine-textured ice and real fruit syrups that they make themselves.  The lychee syrup was nearly clear but fine bits of tan pulp were visible against the white ice.  Yummy stuff. 

We haven't eaten at Waiola since last summer and the one thing that disappointed us this time around was all of us had a fairly substantial white core in the middle of our cones where no syrup had gotten through.  There was a time when the syrup was uniformly distributed throughout--which of course, is one of the elements desired in a shave ice. 

We have been patronizing Waiola since the kids were small and working up a hyperactive lather at Old Stadium Park, just around the corner.  One of the things we always looked forward to was the promise of shave ice before we turned homeward.  Maybe the syrup thing was just a fluke.

Food Quest, Day 4

So our Food Quest has hit a big of a snag.  First of all, our momentum was interrupted because of my week-long jaunt to Anaheim at the end of June.  Second of all, I am finding that my sons are less interested in the "quest" part of the journey than they are in the "food" part; I had thought that part of the fun would be doing a little internet research on places that we would be interested in trying.  I thought.  T and C seem to feel otherwise.  Neither of them have been motivated enough to do a little 'net surfing to find new and exciting places to eat.  They just want to eat. Which makes it pretty much Mom's choice all the time.  Fine.

Two Thursdays ago we went to Choi's Garden (on Rycroft, behind Wal-Mart).  I had gone there previously and the biggest draw is definitely their yakiniku menu; portion sizes are generous and there is a vast selection of different meats and vegetables.  Since neither of the two boys felt like cooking their own meal when we went to Choi's, we ordered off their regular menu (it's huge!).

The accompanying veggies were delicious and somewhat unusual; besides the kim chee, there were also bean sprouts, konnyaku, tofu, and ong choi.  We each got a bowl of soup with wakame.

I ordered a stone pot with beef and mixed vegetables. T had something similar except his was with seafood.  I believe C had a mixed BBQ plate of some sort--sorry, it's been 2 weeks and I just can't recall without a photo!

T's hot pot had a nice variety of seafood--scallops, shrimp, fish and a whole baby octopus!  I thought his meal choice was tempting except for one thing; there was a large quantity of raw watercress over the top.  Watercress is evil.  But I digress.

The food is very good but somewhat pricey; plates average about $15 which is nearly twice as much as I have paid for very similar food elsewhere.  I was more willing to pay a higher amount for their yakiniku selections; those at least, were "different" from what I encountered at other korean grills.  Though service at Choi's is prompt and efficient, I have to say that in several Korean restaurants that I have frequented, I always get significantly better service when E and/or the boys are along with me.  I hate to say it but the part-Korean blood really does come in handy here--in this particular instance, more than once, I noticed one of the waiters and one of the waitresses studying the faces at our table.  When we were part-way through the meal, the waiter came up and asked if we wanted more veggies.  A few minutes later, the waitress asked the same thing.  The degree of warmth just gets a little more so at these places.  I guess I shouldn't complain!

Choi's does get pretty busy for both lunch and dinner so reservations are recommended.  The parking lot is small but they do have a valet who will take care of your vehicle when the lot fills up.  They are a bit pricey but there is a huge variety of dishes and their yakiniku is definitely worth a try, at least once.  Let me know if you want to borrow either of the boys--you just may get more veggies that way! ;-)

Food Quest, Day 3

Today was my choice.  I selected Hinone Mizunone on S. King Street near Keeaumoku.  I have passed this restaurant on a number of occasions and decided it was time to give it a try.  The boys and I got there around 11:30 AM (the place opens at 11) and the parking lot, which is pretty small, was already filled to capacity.  We were fortunate to find a metered parking stall nearby. 

The restaurant is a lot smaller than I had imagined it to be and there were at least 6 parties ahead of us crammed into a small side room.  We were assured that a table for 3 would be ready in about 20 minutes.  We decided to wait (outside) and in about 15 minutes we were seated.  During our wait, people kept coming, but they were also going--though this is a sit-down restaurant, the impression was one of fast food; the customer turnover was extremely rapid.

We were seated by 12:00 and there was already a sign that announced the daily special (teriyaki chicken for $8.50) was sold out.  Wow.  The menu was not as extensive as I had anticipated but it did feature some classic teishoku plates:  tonkatsu, chicken karaage, misoyaki butterfish, grilled salmon and so forth.  There were several udon/curry combinations as well.  Our waiter was efficient but his brisk, businesslike attitude unintentionally (I am assuming) indicated that building a warm and fuzzy server-diner relationship was pretty low on his list of priorities.

C ordered the tonkatsu teishoku with ponzu, I ordered the misoyaki butterfish teishoku and T ordered the shrimp tempura udon and curry combo.  The prices are reasonable; teishoku meals average $10-14 and T's combo was about $15.  T also ordered a green apple soda which he really enjoyed.

The teishoku plates were attractively plated and came with an individual rice container, miso soup, gobo, takuan and kabocha.  My meal came significantly ahead of the boys' though.  I thought that was a bit strange.  The miso soup was very tasty and full of small cubes of tofu and bean sprouts.  C enjoyed the flavors of the tonkatsu and ponzu and said he preferred it to the traditional tomato-based katsu sauce so many other places serve.  He also liked the kabocha a great deal; I thought it was good but a tad on the sweet side.  The butterfish was moist and delicious and T's udon filled him up so much that he couldn't finish the curry.  He enjoyed them both though.

I didn't take pictures of the boys' meals because C gave me one of his Mom-is-embarrassing-me looks when I snapped the photo of my teishoku and T's green apple soda.

So overall:  on the plus side the food is very good and the prices are reasonable; service is efficient and brisk.  On the down side:  parking sucks--the lot is small and the street parking during the weekday is only 1 hour; this means I had to drop another quarter in midway through the meal (we had that 15 minute wait at the beginning, remember?); daily specials sell out extremely quickly (judging by today anyway); the noise level is very high since the restaurant is pretty much one large square with lots of wooden surfaces and the high speed service does not make this a place you would feel encouraged to linger and chat in (we were out in under an hour).  Since the chatting is a big part of the dining experience, at least for me, I felt slightly cheated somehow.

Food Quest, Day 2

It was T's turn to choose and he opted for Panya Bistro and Bakery in Ala Moana Center.  Panya is an Asian/Italian/American fusion restaurant that features a rather expansive menu of appetizers, salads, noodles, sandwiches and drinks.  Their bakery is set-up in the front of the restaurant so the variety of breads and sweet treats are a temptation going in and coming out; bakery items can be served at table with a modest serving fee.

T ordered the fried baby octopus appetizer and when they say "baby octopus" they mean baby octopus; tiny tentacles curled and crisped are still attached to the head.  C declined--whether it's because he was saving himself for his lunch or because T's comment that he could, "see where the eye used to be" grossed him out too much, I could not fathom.  The little darlings were quite tasty (though chewy) and the mixture of mayo and shoyu that accompanied them, though not my dip of choice, went over well.

The boys opted for ramen--C had miso and T had the gomoku which had a shoyu base.  Both bowls had a generous serving of noodles, flavorful broth and an abundance of toppings that included aburage, shiitake mushrooms, kamaboko and bean sprouts.  C said the miso had a bit of a kick to it and he enjoyed the broth so much that he finished it off completely.  T enjoyed his as well but filled up rather quickly; must be from all the tentacles tangoing in his tummy.

I had the baked pork chop which was basically rice fried with egg then topped with thin slices of onion, peas and bread pork chop slices all swimming in a tomato sauce.  Think smothered tonkatsu and you'll get the picture.  Though the pork was tender (and boneless, which is a plus), I found the rice rather ordinary and the tomato sauce was too sweet for my taste. 

The appetizers are priced in the $8-10 range and the meals average $10-18 or so for good-sized portions and lots of variety.  Our waitress was friendly and efficient but the bakery workers at the door, who also doubled as hosts, left much to be desired.  The initial greeting was cursory and we were waved in the general direction of our table where our waitress greeted us and seated us. When we paid for our bakery items on the way out, the man who rang up our purchases was talking on the phone while also talking to the girl who was wrapping up our treats--in Korean.  She did say thank you when she gave me my change.

Overall rating--good food, reasonable prices and good table service.  I hope they work on the other stuff.

The Great Food Quest!

So the boys and I decided to spend at least part of our summer on a quest for food.  It's a noble endeavor, this seeking of restaurants we have not yet discovered and one we are willing to take on.  For the greater, uh, good.  The only requirements we have established thus far:  we take turns picking places and we try to pick places we either rarely frequent or have never frequented before.  Ever.

Today was C's pick and he opted for Greek cuisine.  We headed over to The Greek Marina located in the Koko Marina Shopping Center.  The Greek Marina is a small-ish place that features both inside and outside dining.  The patio option allows diners a very up-close view of the marina along with its ducky inhabitants.  Though the ducks have been known to wander up to the walkway to scrutinize diners, they were well-behaved and kept to the water today.

We started with appetizers of tzatziki (yogurt mixed with dill and shredded cucumber, served with pita bread) and spanakopita (filo turnovers stuffed with feta and spinach).  The combination of yogurt and cucumber is spectacular and even C who does not really care for cucumber, thoroughly enjoyed the tzatziki. T, who has never eaten Greek food before, seemed to really like the spanakopita and was even able to get the pronunciation down--unlike his older brother who couldn't get the pronunciation down before and now finds it amusing to say "spankatopia" instead. 

We all opted for the gyro as our main course.  The one time C and I went there before, the gyro were solo sandwiches.  This time, we each got a full plate.  Triangles of pita are served alongside a generous portion of thinly sliced lamb and beef. The meat was lightly crisped along the edges and well-seasoned; the additional yogurt dip that came along with it complemented the meat nicely.  A Greek salad of sliced Romaine lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion, sprinkles of feta and kalamata olives was included as well.  The salad dressing had a pleasant zing and the only item that was not enjoyed by any of us were the olives; T and I aren't big on olives in general and C found it far too briney for his tastes.

The appetizers averaged $8-10 and the gyro plates were about $12.  The portions are generous, the service friendly and prompt. The Greek Marina at Koko Marina Shopping Center.  We highly recommend it.

Go fo' broke!

The families in my old Rose Street neighborhood were tight; we shared food over fences, babysat younger siblings and if any of us acted up, parents impartially yelled at the lot of us.  I never realized until much later how lucky I was to have grown up in a neighborhood with so many families with children near my own age. 

I recently attended the funeral of Mr. H., a former neighbor of many years and the father of my friend R (see "Turkey Tales," November 2010). Mr. H. was "old school"; that means he didn't always talk much but when he did it was because he had something to say and it was in your best interests to listen.  Like my grandfather, Mr. H. was gruff and did not waste time with social niceties--if he wanted something done, he said so, using as few words as possible.  He was not a big man but he had incredible presence.  I never thought to question him when he told me to do something and it never would have occurred to me to protest that I wasn't his child to order around.  Yet he was always kind to me and paid me the ultimate compliment of entrusting me with his daughter; R. is three years younger than me and if we were catching the bus to go to the beach or the movies, she could go--provided Mr. H. knew that I was going, too. 

Mr. H. took us fishing, swimming and hiking.  We helped him harvest vegetables at his relatives' farm in Kaaawa and he set up a tent in the backyard for us to spend the night in; in the back of his blue pick-up we explored corners of the island I would never have seen otherwise.  Mr. H. taught us to respect the sea and the legends of Hawaii.  I was impressed that he never failed to make an offering to the volcano goddess, Pele, whenever he visited the Big Island and if our travels included a picnic lunch, a small food offering was always placed by the side of the road.  "For the little people," he would say.

Many of my cherished childhood memories revolve around R. and her father but with all the time I spent in their company, there is one thing I never knew about Mr. H. until his funeral service; he was a member of the 442nd Regiment, the all-Japanese American regiment that fought in some of the toughest battles in WW II and became the most decorated regiment in the history of the United States.  As a history teacher, I lamented the passing of yet another first-hand witness to one of the most important events in the world's history.  As his longtime neighbor, I was saddened by the not-knowing.  How could I have spent so much time with them, at their house, and not have known of Mr. H.'s involvement with the 442nd?

At the funeral, copies of a speech made by US Army Historian Eric Saul were distributed.  The speech was given at a ceremony to honor Medal of Honor recipients on March 25, 2001.  In his beautiful presentation, Saul attributes the success of the 442nd and their willingness to "go fo' broke," despite the prejudices and mistreatment by their own government, to several very Japanese qualities; qualities like "giri" and "on" (duty, honor and responsibility), "kodomo no tame ni" (for the sake of the children), "gaman" (internal fortitude), or "shikata ga nai" (sometimes things can't be helped).

But the one characteristic that hit home for me was "enryo" or humility. Saul wrote:  "There's an old Japanese proverb that says if you do something really good and you don't talk about it, it must be really, really good!"  Mr. H., like my grand-uncle Dick who was also a member of the 442nd, never talked about their service during WW II; they didn't have to.  They went and did really, really good.  And that was all the rest of us needed to know.

Different Governor, Same Shit

2011 HOSA Winners

Twenty members of our school's chapter of Health Occupations Students of America (HOSA) qualified to compete on the national level at this year's state conference.  For the past 4 years, our travel expenses were supplemented by a combination of fundraising monies, donations (especially from our school's alumni association, FACF) and state funds.  This year was to be no exception.  FACF came through with our request of $8400 and after careful consideration of the state funds that were slated for us, we asked each student to chip in their share of $350. 

On Wednesday morning, my co-advisor delivered a check to the travel agent which represented the balance of our airfare and on Wednesday afternoon I received an email notifying all HOSA advisors that Governor Abercrombie had ordered our state superintendent to reject any out of state travel plans that utilized state funds.  The $10,000 that had been put aside for our travel, half of it from the beginning of this school year, and that we had utilized when making our requests from the alumni and parents, not only could not be used for our travel, it was to be returned to the state immediately.

We are scheduled to leave on June 19th.  Our airfare payment is no longer refundable.  To take away these funds with no warning and after the date for fundraisers has passed is not right and not fair.  My students earned the right to compete on the national level, the money had been earmarked for their travel, all our budgeting was based around that fund and now it's gone.  Families in our community often live paycheck to paycheck and even the $350 that we asked them to contribute took some financial finagling for a number of them.  To ask them to contribute more this late in the game...it's just not possible.

Time and time again, the public school students of this state are given the short end of the state's financial stick by politicians who are elected by promising that schools will come first and it's time to clean up education. The only thing that needs to be cleaned up is the Governor's mansion.  The b.s. accumulating there is now three-governors high.

Remembering Kirby

It is 2 years to the day since our beloved Shih Tzu, Kirby, crossed the Rainbow Bridge.  Kirby was my very first dog and in many ways he spoiled me for any other.  I never trained Kirby; he trained me.  And what an excellent job he did, too!

We decided to train Kirby to "go" on puppy pads.  Our yard at the time was an overgrown, weedy mess; the one time I let him out to roam, he came back covered in burrs and stickers--to the point where his fur was plastered against the sides of his face and body.  Since the children were young at the time, I also thought it would be easier to supervise his toilet training if he was in the house.  All I had to do was show Kirby the pads and correct his few mistakes.  He was trained in a week.  I was amazed to learn that Shih Tzu are supposed to be notoriously difficult to potty train.  Apparently Kirby never got that memo.

The only commands I made it a point to teach him were:  sit, stay, come, down and off.  Everything else he picked up simply because we talked to him all the time.  He quickly learned that "where" meant he needed to find something and "do you want" indicated something good to follow (a walk, some milk, a treat, a brushing).  Not only did he have excellent receptive language, he was also an incredible communicator.  His vocalizations went far beyond the normal whines and barks; he yodeled and moaned, sighed (often in seeming exasperation), chuffed and for lack of a better description, "yarled."

Yarling is a series of undulating notes that Kirby emitted when he was especially anxious to communicate with us.  A low, throaty yarl was used to get my attention and let me know something was wrong; when he was still quite a small puppy, I forgot to put out clean puppy pads for him.  He sat in front of me, stared intently and gave his muffled "mmm--arl."  Once he got my attention, he leapt to his feet, ran to his corner and stared pointedly at the empty space.  He danced with glee when I put the pad in place.

His louder, open-mouthed yarl indicated that something was really wrong.  Not long after we got Farley, I let the dogs out into the yard.  I did not know that E had left the side gate open.  Kirby immediately ran around the house to the front door and yarled at me.  He looked agitated and when I asked, "Where's Rusty, Kirby?"  He yarled long and loud and rushed to the front fence.  There, across the street, were Rusty and Farley.  They had escaped via the open gate and were setting off to explore the neighborhood.  I was amazed that Kirby not only did not join them, he came around to let us know that his "brothers" were loose in the street.

Though Kirby was flexible enough to allow me to sleep in on the weekends, he did let me know when he thought I'd been indulged enough.  He would march determinedly up alongside me and stare hard at my face.  If his laser eye trick did not work, he chuffed; a mixture of a sneeze and a snort.  The chuffing sound and light spray of moisture was usually enough to wake me out of the deepest sleep.  And once I opened my eyes, there was no turning back.  I was awake and breakfast needed to be served!

I did try to trick him a couple of times.  Once when he did his march up toward my face, I kept my eyes closed.  I was awake under my eyelids so even his usual chuff did not elicit the desired reaction.  I peered out carefully and when I noticed his face was averted, I blew at the side of his face.  His head whipped around to face me but my eyes were closed; obviously, I was still asleep.  Three more times I blew at him and three more times he whirled in my direction.  That final time, when I craftily peeped out to see if he was looking, he was.  Quick as a flash he smacked his front paw against my mouth and when my eyes popped wide open in surprise, he leaped off the bed and headed for the kitchen!  Objective reached; stupid human was awake and now it was time for breakfast!

Kirby became hypothyroid when he was four and by the time he was seven, he had developed a heart murmur.  For five years, life pretty much went on as normal; he continued to enjoy his usual activities and meals and daily walks with Rusty.  By the time he was 10 and Farley had joined our little family, it was clear that Kirby's heart was beginning to decline. His walking pace was so slow that I had to walk him separately from the younger dogs.  He had occasional brief but terrifying black-outs.  By March of 2009, he could no longer climb the stairs to the second floor without gasping; I slept on an inflatable mattress on the first floor from then on.

Our vet warned told us Kirby's heart was the worst it could possibly be and other than the medications which made him more comfortable, there was nothing further we could do.  Though it was devastating to think of Kirby's passing, it was nightmarish to think about the manner in which he might go.  Heart disease is horrifying in its unpredictability.  We might come home to find that he had died peacefully during a nap or we might come home to find him in agony and pray that it hadn't been for very long.

We knew that the time would soon come when putting Kirby to sleep would be the only and best option for our little friend.  But how do you know when?  In between his blackouts, he acted normally; he ate well, showed interest in his toys and people.  He was just slower and tired so easily.  At what point would we say, could we say, "That's it, he's had enough" and KNOW that it was the right thing for him? Everyone I asked told me the same thing.  You know.  You just do. 

I should have known that Kirby would tell me himself.  On that fateful morning, Kirby refused his breakfast.  He sat in front of me and stared long and hard into my face and that was it.  I had received his final lesson and all that remained was for me to carry it out.

Kirby crossed the Rainbow Bridge on May 4, 2009.  It was his 12th birthday.

Farley vs. Simple Dog

Yes, he really does sit this way!

So my friend L introduced me to a blog site called "Hyperbole and a Half."  Blogger Allie has written several entries about her dog that L thought I would enjoy.  And I did.  I laughed so hard at some of them that I choked on my own spit and had a violent coughing fit.  Now that's true enjoyment!

Allie refers to one of her dogs as "Simple Dog" because, you guessed it, she (the dog, not Allie) is not highly blessed with gray matter.  Since Farley is also not a canine Einstein, I could totally relate.  After reading the entry entitled "The Simple Dog Goes for a Joy Ride," I was actually feeling slightly relieved; Simple Dog made Farley look like a rocket scientist!

Alas, my joy was short-lived.  In an earlier entry, Allie described how she performed a doggy IQ test on Simple Dog by draping a towel over her head to see how long it would take for her to get out.  As expected, SD failed this test.  The other night while I was getting ready for bed, I decided to give my dogs the IQ Challenge!  I flipped a part of my blanket over Rusty's head; he immediately shook his head vigorously from side to side and within seconds, darted out from the opening his thrashing had created.  Then he gave me a dirty look that translated, "I know you did that.  The question is why?"  Suspicious, but smart!

Then it was Farley's turn.  I flipped the blanket over his head and he immediately turned his head under the blanket carefully from one side to the next.  Slight pause.  Then the blanket hump that was Farley sloooowly slid down onto the mattress till he was completely prone.  Longer pause.  I flipped up the part of the blanket covering his face to find him perfectly relaxed, his eyes completely closed.  The blanket fazed him not at all.

I'd say the score is tied.

Sex Education

My global studies classes were discussing diseases in history today.  Naturally we started off with the black plague and I was pleasantly surprised that there was some spirited discussion on how diseases are passed and why some carriers (like fleas) are completely immune to its effects.  The black plague discussion led to modern diseases such as hepatitis and its high prevalence in college students; as my students are soon-to-be-graduating seniors, this was quite apropros.  Since one of my students did her senior project on HPV and her panel presentation was within a few hours of our class, she also piped up that students should also consider getting the Gardasil shot to protect them against this steadily rising STD.

Nothing perks up a class discussion like the merest hint of sex.  The black plague was cool for its gross-out factor but STDs!  Now there were 30+ students with lots of questions they wanted to ask.  Some questions were purely anatomical while others were obviously based on real-life experience:  "What if my friend did..."  Change the "friend" to "I" and fill in the blank.  And the new generation think they are so clever and sophisticated.  They can't even create an original story.


This is not the first time that I've had discussions with my students about sex.  In the 10th grade Health Core class I introduce the body systems and when we get to reproduction, questions abound.  Now my students are far from innocent; you don't grow up in our neighborhood without learning a thing or two about life, but for all their street smarts and the language that goes along with that, many of them couldn't even bring themselves to ask their questions.  They struggled to actually describe the behaviors in question and couldn't even verbally identify the body parts involved in said behaviors.  The embarrassment!  The horror!  And these are future health care providers?

After too many moments of hemming and hawing, I finally told them to get the questions out and have done with it; if they had a question worth asking, I was going to answer it and nothing they said would embarrass or upset me.   One brave soul finally spoke up and asked, "Can you get an STD if you, uh, masturbate someone?"  Naturally the class erupted with nervous laughter.  I replied, "With your hand or with your mouth?"  Yes, I can create moments of complete and utter silence.

I am always startled by how naive some of the questions are--even the questions that come from students who I know are already sexually active.  It's sad to think that they can't talk about their body parts without giggling, let alone have a mature discussion with their partners about contraception, yet they are already engaging in the behavior.  Few of the students said they were able to have any kind of open conversation with their parents about anything remotely sexual, so they don't bother trying.  That saddens me even more.

Common courtesy...it ain't so common!

We are in the thick of band concert season and since C and T are now in different bands, that means keeping track of two very different schedules. Last night E, C and I went to watch T's first concert performance of the season.  It was a special concert since it was the first collaboration between Farrington High School and Hawaii Pacific University. Both bands performed well but our enjoyment was tempered by the behavior of some less-than-courteous audience members. 

During his welcome speech, the emcee reminded the audience of appropriate behavior for a performance of this sort:  if you need to leave, please wait till the end of the song, please turn off your cell phones, please refrain from talking during the performances.  C turned to me at the end of the reminder and said, "People actually need to be told this."  Yes, they do.  Too bad some of them choose not to follow it.

The auditorium was far from full but a family group decided to sit in our row anyway.  The group consisted of four women and two children; the elder was perhaps 9 years old and he decided to go sit way down in the front row for a while.  The younger boy was about 7 and he ended up about 3 seats away from me.  About one song into Farrington's performance, three of the women and the younger boy got into a discussion that seemed to revolve around the use of a digital camera that none of them could figure out.  Things pretty much went downhill from there. 

One of the women just could not shut up.  I don't know what she was saying since it wasn't in English but she had frequent comments to make to the women next to her.  Even if they didn't actively respond, she kept right on talking.  I know a lot of family members aren't really interested in classical music but they do come to support the students.  Except for the incident with the camera, she showed absolutely no interest in anything related to the performance; not the music, not the staging and not the performers. 

It was annoying during Farrington's performance; it was downright infuriating by the time HPU took the stage.  During the brief intermission, the older boy decided to rejoin his group; he plopped down in front of the woman with diarrhea of the mouth and began an animated conversation with her that seemed to revolve around the Nintendo DS he held in his hand.  During HPU's performance, the boy continued to play his game, but did not bother to turn the sound all the way down; HPU played "Danny Boy" in preparation for an Ireland tour they are taking soon.  For those in our row, the beautiful melody was interspersed with "ping, ping, blat, blat, blat, blat" from the DS in the row in front of us.  Diarrhea woman kept leaning over the kid's seat to see what he was doing and making comments to him as he played.  Then her phone rang.  Yes, she answered it.  Yes, she had a short conversation.  Two minutes later, it rang again.  Yes, she answered it and then passed it to the woman next to her.  She, at least, had the grace to look slightly embarrassed in my direction.  She still took the phone and had a brief conversation though.

I videotaped the performance last night and midway through I had a wild urge to swing the camera in their direction and say loudly, "And this is what rude people look like."  With my luck, they would have reacted as if it were a well-deserved photo op.  People like that just never get the point.

Conversations over Dinner

As our kids have gotten older and their schedules more complex, dinnertime has become a much needed and enjoyable time to reconnect with them. As both boys have sharp memories and keen minds, the conversations have become increasingly diverse and complex.  We've discussed (well, okay, the guys did) the results of C's latest math test, history, chemistry, botany, cooking, etc.  Last night was not one of those times:

E:  Hey, what happened to that preschool by your mom's house?  Part of it was demolished; I saw one of those big, construction machines out front.
C:  It's a back hoe...
E:  You would think I'd remember that by now, considering I see them used all the time.
C:  ...As opposed to a front hoe.
Me:  Or a ho-ho.
E:  Like the Hostess ones wearing a Robin Hood hat.
C:  Ho-hos are mostly used near the Poles.  There are high-hos.
Me:  And hidy hos.
T:  Or tally hos.

Some discussion, instigated and mostly participated in by E, followed regarding whether or not anyone with the last name Ho would actually give any of their children names such as "Tally" or "High".  He decided that "hidy" spelled "Heidi" would be the most appropriate. By this time, the eating part of dinner was over and they were rolling tiny magnetic balls around the table and manipulating them into shapes; it must be a testosterone-driven thing because as much as I find the shapes they create interesting, I have no burning desire to try it myself. Yet another opportunity for intelligent conversation:

E:  You know, a whole bunch of these little balls could be stuck together to make a chain mail shirt.
C:  It would be too heavy, it wouldn't stay together.
Me:  A magnetic "chain mail" bolero jacket then.
E:  Or a chain mail bikini!
Me:  Maybe just the bikini top.
T:  Because the bottom would chafe...*silence around the table*...Well, that's what I heard!

With this kind of meaningful discourse, who needs dessert?  :-)

Sometimes Love is Not a Many Splendored Thing

Last week I asked my psychology students if they could remember the last time they looked their parent, guardian or other family member in the face and said, "I love you."  In each class, perhaps 4-5 students could pinpoint the last time but only 1-2 of them had done it within the past month; the class range was all over the place--anything from a few months ago to "Uh, years," as one of my boys stated.  Yet when I asked them to identify the last time they criticized someone, even jokingly, a whole bunch of hands went up.  Most of them had done it within that day, some within an hour of our class.  Including me.

We did two follow-up assignments.  For the first, everyone took out a sheet of paper and wrote their names across the top.  I did one, too.  We sat in a circle and passed the papers around.  Each time we got a new paper, we had to write something positive about the paper's owner.  At first, the kids complained; they claimed that they didn't know EVERYBODY in the class well enough to write on every paper.  It was silly, they said.  Like camp, someone moaned.

I can't believe they actually thought they had a choice!  I started writing on the sheet in front of me and the students gradually followed suit.  At first, I noticed the comments on the papers that came my way were brief:  "You're nice" or "You have a cute shirt."  It reminded me of my 7th grade yearbook.  At least no one wished anyone else a "great summer" or hoped they'd "see them again next year"! Anyway, within a fairly short period of time, the comments began to expand:  people recounted specific events they shared with that person, a talent they observed, took note of a friendly smile or an engaging sense of humor.  The silence grew until all that was heard were the rustling of papers and the scratching of pens.  Some of my students were unconsciously smiling as they wrote or even looking speculatively across the circle at a classmate they probably never bothered contemplating before.

When the activity was over and we had all written our piece, we read the comments.  Hardly a word was spoken but smiles were breaking out all over the classroom.  Some of the students had not signed their comments and I could tell that the papers' owners were trying to match the comments with the writers.  Nearly all of the on-line reflections for the next few days raved about the activity and how good the comments made them feel.  Many of the students never realized what other people noticed about them.  Many said they would always keep the paper where they could see them as a positive reminder for bad days.  The newly found sense of camaraderie extended beyond the papers.  Today I noticed several people having a laughing conversation during recess; before last week, I had never seen them exchange anything more than a quick hello.

The second follow-up assignment was not nearly as successful.  I challenged my students to look their parent, guardian, or other family member straight in the eye and tell them, "I love you."  Students were then supposed to record the person's reaction and reflect upon the reasons why.  It was not surprising that the few students who previously could remember when they last expressed their love to their parents got the most natural response:  "Hey, I love you, too."  In their families, expressions of love are often and freely given.

For too many of the students, the reciprocal response was not to be.  Though some parents expressed surprise and did respond in kind, the majority either (1) laughed, (2) asked "What do you want?", (3) assumed there was some kind of trouble, or (4) ignored the statement completely.  The students' reflections upon their families' reactions were remarkably forgiving, as well as perceptive; verbal love is not something their family did, some said, it was more important that love be shown through positive acts.  Others defended their relatives' negative responses; it came out of nowhere, they said, if it's not commonly done, it's hard to know how to respond.

Some students who found the exercise difficult did express concern that if they had never been exposed to verbal expressions of love, they would never be able to model it for their own children.  It made these particular students more determined than their classmates to take the time to express appreciation and affection to others.  I think that's a lesson well-learned.

Time Flies When You're Not Paying Attention!

Last February I remember thinking that the year was off to a slow start and the next thing I knew, it was the beginning of December and I was trying to figure out where the heck the year had gotten to.  Well, it's already March and rather than procrastinate a few more months, I decided to start early...in wondering, where the heck has the year gotten to? 

To post, or not to post...should have been the question!

"Disobedient, lazy, noisy, crazy, loafers" are just a few of the things Natalie Munroe, a high school English teacher in Philadelphia called her students.  I can sympathize; my students run the gamut in terms of ability, level of motivation, parental support, command of the English language, you name it.  Sometimes, it's hard to be their teacher.  The problem is Natalie vented her frustrations in a blog which her students read, and then reported, to her school's administration.  The result?  Natalie has been suspended and the media furor has created divided camps:  Natalie supporters (see them on Facebook) and Natalie critics.  Discussions regarding how, or if, a teacher's online behavior should be monitored have erupted.

Unfortunately, I have to agree with much of the substance of her frustrations; too many of our students are unwilling to work hard, to go beyond what is expected of them and to do it willingly and wholeheartedly.  Too many of our students are used to just getting by and are not being held accountable for their actions.  As a result, they have poor work habits, poor critical thinking skills and questionable work ethics.  Getting an A means far more to them than the knowledge they should acquire in order to achieve it.

It is a sad snapshot of our current society.  Today's kids, my own included, have been spoiled by the technological advances of our time.  Here's a prime example:  When I was in high school, having to write a research paper meant making time to go to the library; it meant looking up resources in a card catalog, locating the book in the stacks, checking it out and reading through the book while I took notes.  Then I typed the paper, making sure I adjusted the bottom margin accordingly for footnotes, manually rolling the typewriter platen up each time.  Heaven help you if you miscalculated the amount of space you needed for those darned things!

For today's students, instant information is at their fingertips 24/7; they've lost the need and capacity to prioritize and plan.  There are no long hours at the library, no scheduling around the library's hours or book return dates; sometimes there is very little writing, too--a clever student knows how to utilize cut and paste along with some judicious editing and appropriate use of APA citations. Grammar and spelling?  There's no need to know that either when you use a program with spelling and grammar check.

So, while I agree with Natalie's frustrations, decision to post her remarks on a public blog was foolish and unprofessional.  There is a time and place for comments such as these and an internet site that anyone can access is not one of them. Her venting may cost her her job and most certainly has cost her some of her credibility--especially in the area of "appropriate use of technology!"

Post-script:  I am well aware that some of my readers will be amused and/or critical of the fact that in publicly questioning Natalie's decision, I am emulating it.  I have a basic golden rule about what I decide to post:  I never post anything I would be ashamed to have my mother read.  Nope.  Not ashamed at all.

Still Lordly After All These Years

I spent all of Sunday watching "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy.  Lest you think I did nothing but sit on the couch for approximately 8 hours, let it be known that I was embroidering a bunch of burp rags for a friend's soon-to-be-born baby at the same time.  Hey, I can multi-task!

I have been a fan of the books since college and though I am not a fanatic, I admit I was skeptical when the first installment, "Fellowship of the Ring" came out; the task of creating a cohesive, entertaining and true-to-Tolkien film (not to mention 3) was a phenomenal task.  Well, A and I enjoyed "Fellowship" so much, we went back to see it about 12 times!  Never before, or since, have I spent that much time and money on a single film.  The magic of Middle Earth never waned for us; the costuming, the music, the characters and Peter Jackson's serious efforts to maintain the heart of the story kept us coming back for more.  In A's case, Orlando Bloom as Legolas certainly didn't hurt either!

Our enthusiasm saw us through the releases of the next 2 films as well as both the regular DVD releases and the Director's cut DVD for all 3 movies.  It was sad to realize that our three-year movie event had finally come to an end.

Still, I admit there were certain favorite lines and scenes that I waited in vain for:  Gimli requesting a lock of Galadriel's hair or Eowyn facing down the Witch King of Angmar with the powerful, "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Éowyn I am, Éomund’s daughter. You stand between me and my lord and king. Begone, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him."  In the movie she takes off her helm and says, "I am no man."  Okay, same meaning, but still...I was also doubtful regarding the casting of Liv Tyler as Arwen--my main memory of her is in "Armageddon"--not exactly a part you can sink your teeth into.  The coronation scene in "The Return of the King" forever erased any doubts; who didn't sigh in admiration when Arwen shyly peeped out at Aragorn around the standard she carried?


I thoroughly enjoyed my personal movie marathon; I had not watched the films for several years and not only have they kept their magic, I appreciate the effort that went into their production and the "little" details, even more now than I did before.  Notably:  Andy Serkis's CGI-assisted personification of Gollum which puts him on a par with any of the other principal actors; Boromir's death scene in which he expresses remorse and loyalty to Aragorn; the single tear of regret that trickles down Wormtongue's cheek when he realizes Saruman is plotting the total extinction of man; and Faramir's heart-rending, "If I should return, think better of me, Father."

Cinema gold!

Pause for Thought

The first time I had breast cancer was when I was 37 years old.  It caught everyone, including my doctor, off-guard; I was young and a non-smoker, with no history of breast cancer in the family whatsoever.  Three surgeries and a series of radiation treatments later, I was put on Tamoxifen, a drug that prevents estrogen from binding to its receptors in the breast.  Since some breast cancers need estrogen in order to grow, the Tamoxifen essentially cut off its food supply.

Of course, when we mess with the body's normal functions, that usually means side-effects.  In my case, my oncologist, gynecologist and radiation oncologist all expressed relief that I had already had all the children I intended to; early menopause, they all said.  That's what the Tamoxifen will do to you.  I took the drug for 5 years and my body obediently began fulfilling my doctors' prediction: I developed insomnia, night sweats, and hot flashes, my sex drive took a nose dive, my skin, which was already hyper-sensitive from the radiation, developed rashes at the drop of a hat.  I actually saw a dermatologist for the first time in my life; she treated me for eczema as well as warts that developed in embarrassing places in the treatment area. 

But the periods kept on coming, right on schedule, just slightly lighter and shorter in duration.  Just to keep things interesting, I developed new PMS symptoms--cramping and bloating unlike anything I had before or since; my feet would blow up like balloons no matter what I ate or drank.  I had more than one bad moment when my rings would not come off and my bangle bracelet got stuck halfway on and halfway off my hand.  I told my oncologist about my symptoms.  Dr. C., nodded and said, "I bet you've been getting leg cramps, too, right around now."  He was right, but until he'd mentioned it, I hadn't made that connection.  Looks like my side effects were proceeding on schedule.  Dr. C. is a very nice man.  I would have hated to disappoint him.

I told my gynecologist, Dr. Y. about my symptoms--especially the one about the sex drive--she hemmed and hawed a bit and said that Tamoxifen would do that to you.  The treatment for lowered sex drive, unfortunately, is hormone therapy and in my case, that would have been counter-indicated.  Well, what about after the Tamoxifen, I asked, would things go back to normal then?  More hemming and hawing and then she said, "Well, but you'd be 5 years older then, wouldn't you?"  

So the 5 years went by and I stopped taking Tamoxifen.  Two years after that I received my second cancer diagnosis and despite a mastectomy and reconstruction (still working on that as we speak), I am still managing to flummox my doctors because at every check-up, every doctor expresses surprise that I have all the symptoms of menopause except for the big one:  the PAUSE. 

I was thinking about that recently and thought, it's symbolic, really--I have been supremely fortunate.  Both times, the cancer was caught early and though there were times treatment was uncomfortable or inconvenient, tiring or frustrating, ultimately, I knew these were temporary interludes in my life and soon, I would be getting out of "Pause" mode and returning to my everyday life.  Other people aren't so fortunate.

So when I feel like complaining these days, whether it is about work, my family, my ongoing treatment, I pause to remind myself about the people who have reason to complain, but don't.  It's amazing how much better the reminder makes me feel. 

Aaaaand, we're back!

We put up with the lousy internet connection via Clearwire for about 6 weeks; I was amazed at E's tolerance.  Then again, he has an iPhone so maybe he wasn't suffering as much as C and I were!  I have to say that I didn't fully realize how much I have come to depend on the internet for work and for leisure time; I could put up with not spending time checking my Facebook account or skimming through the craislist ads but not being able to check my email accounts, work on this blog, or do research for my classes...infuriating! 

So we are back with Road Runner and the difference in speed has been phenomenal.  It feels good to be back in action!  Beep, beep!

We are experiencing technical difficulties...

I love technology and all the time and labor-saving factors that come with it but, man!  When a device doesn't work the way it's supposed to, it's maddening!  Our home internet connection has been sketchy since the beginning of December and it has mostly affected anything gmail related; that means my personal email, my school organization's email, google groups and this blog!  In essence, the majority of things I used the internet for.

The worst part of it is the inconsistency.  First, I had no gmail access.  Then I found I could access through Internet Explorer but not my default browser, Mozilla Firefox.  Then it turned into: sometimes I could access one account but not the other, sometimes I could log into the account but when I tried to view a message, I would get kicked out of the account or get a message saying to check the internet connection, sometimes I could do everything I needed to but when I came back an hour or so later...nothing.

It's frustrating, annoying and non-productive; three things that are guaranteed to drive me batty.  So my blog is not falling by the wayside; it is just a temporary victim of my technological issues.  Just wanted to let you know...stay tuned!

Resolution Revolution

I definitely need/want to make some changes in my life.  I hereby resolve that this year, I will:

1.  Make physical exercise a priority--that means getting back on a regular dog-walking schedule.  Seems like everytime we got onto a schedule something happened to disrupt it.  Good resolution for both me and the fur boys.

2.  Let go of extra responsibility--I have been advising Health Occupations Students of America (HOSA) for 6 years now.  It's time to let someone else on the team take it over and I'm not going to feel guilty about it.  I started the organization from ground up and I'm proud of it.  Someone else needs to keep things going!

3.  Get back to singing--sometimes I can't believe how much of a priority this used to be in my life; work, childbirth, they didn't interfere with the rehearsals, sing-outs or quarteting.  Now, it's pretty much the first thing that gets sacrificed.  Not anymore!  My chorus is planning on chartering this year and going on to compete in 2012.  I intend to be there!

4.  Entertain more--this is another activity that has fallen by the wayside.  I know my friends are super-busy and so are we, but I am going to create events for us to get together for.  Maybe not always the whole gang at once, but a few people here and there over the course of the year!

There it is, in black and white.  It's not a long list but in the words of Yoda:  "Either do or do not.  There is no try."  I intend to.