My mother's home.

I was stunned by a news story I read today. It was on the AP wire, a national news story that I have since learned is international news.

A photographer, living in my mother's small hometown of Oxford, Iowa, took photographs of most every resident of the town in 1984. In 2005, he took photos of the same people who remained. He was surprised at how many actually did remain living there. He teamed up with a writer and University instructor, and the result is The Oxford Project.

It shows small town America, unadorned, hopeful, tragic, and otherwise the same as all of us. It is a stunning portrait of humanity.

It also showcases some of my relatives. Iowa Honn is my great-aunt; she was married to my grandfather's brother. Her son, John Honn, is also featured in the project. He's my dad's cousin.

Please take some time looking at the gallery of the site. I'm hoping and hoping for this project to be made into a book, so that I may keep it close forever. My mother has already started an even more important process: she's contacted the photographer to get a copy of the photograph he took of her mother, my grandmother, in 1984. She died in 1997, and therefore was not included in the final project.

It's just so wonderful for me to know that my family, and part of my childhood as far as that town is concerned, has made some interational history (Guardian Weekend is running an article in September, and Shanghai Morning Post is running an article soon).

For some reason, I'm proud. And I didn't have anything to do with it.


Photo Copyright Peter Feldstein. All rights reserved to him. Used with permission.

Exercise your rights.

I just love this.

Vacation Log: Gettin' closer to the end

I'm starting to feel anxious for the end of my vacation, and feel like doing vacation-y things. Like last night, for instance, when I was making sugar scrubs, I had a beer.

I know, I know. Big freaking whoopity-doo. But I am a teetotaler. Usually. So this was a "new" thing for me. It was okay.

Last weekend was a very good one at the markets, which made me a bit nervous, because I now have to keep up with production. My sugar scrub debut went far better than I could have imagined. I sold all but 3 of them. I spent Sunday night making two more batches (20 jars of scrub), and have to develop a third scent. Your ideas are appreciated. Right now I have:

Lavender Orange (it sold out!)

and


Mystical Mint (combination of pink grapefruit, peppermint, and spearmint).

I'm talking online with a friend, who suggested I make a "fruit salad" one: Lime, orange, grapefuriut--and I could do lemon, too.


Okay, forget the suggestions...I'm doin' the fruit salad.

I can't believe that I have to go back to school in...24 days. Gaaah! This frightens me. I feel like I need to be vacationing harder. More fun will be had! More alcohol will be drunk! More days will be spent in leisure! I swear it!

Good reviews

I got a good review on a blog comment, which lead to someone reading it, which led to a soap sale. So, thanks, Sudiegirl! I appreciate the recommendation. You made me some money, today.

Which just goes to show you, the internet is, indeed, a wonderful place.

On now, to Deadwood.

MAN, I LOVE THIS SHOW!

You know I love a show when the whole episode is prep for the NEXT episode, and I still want to watch it twice in one night. Which someone can do, if that someone has digital cable and has both HBO-East and HBO-West channels. *big grin* If you are into grisly, violent fight scenes, you can see last week's right here. I'm warning, you, though. It is both violent and grisly. You have been warned. Repeatedly.

One more thing: if you don't watch the show, then you are cheering for Dan, in the fight. He's the one with the long hair and no hat. Okay, then.

Although, tonight, I don't think I'll watch the show again, as I'm tired from this weekend. Two markets in over 100 degree heat. I'm wiped out. So now, I have to go make soap, and sugar scrubs, and more soap. It's a good problem to have.

Fence update.

Looks like the city inspector was called in by the neighbors, who gave the fency-folks what-for. I don't know if they got fined or what, but when I came back from my errands today, the fence was half as short as before, but still not finished, and still ugly. The gossip is, these folks were also given their last warning about having their washer and dryer* sitting out on their front porch.

I do so love living in the ghetto.


*NOT an actual photo. Believe me. These are too perfect.

We are go for breakfast.

Go here for your daily chuckle.

Good fences make good neighbors.

Last night, as I was just finishing with our na-night routine, and getting my daughter a drink of water, a voice startled me at my front door.

"Hellloooooo," it crooned, scaring the shit out of me.

"Gah! T! You scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry, Amy, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Is everything okay?" I asked, worried. Our neighbors don't come calling at night.

"Oh, it's fine, everything is okay. You just need to come over here and look at my new fence."

"Um...okay. I'll be over in a minute." I knew something amusing was happening. T's face was a mixture of bewilderment and resigned laughter.

I put the kiddo to bed, and trotted across the street. It was immediately apparent what the problem was. The neighbors next to T. had erected a chain-link fence in their front yard. Not only was it unsightly, it was bizarre; it was about 15 feet long, and 6 feet high, and that's it. Just one fence wall. No corners. It didn't seem to have post holes dug, or anything. The chain-link itself was sagging. It was the strangest thing.

About 5 of us stood around, discussing this monstrosity. It was right along their property line, so they had the right to erect a fence there. But it is so desperately unsightly. It's 6 feet tall! It's like having a deathmatch cage in your front yard. Plus, it's right next to their neighbor's yard, T's yard, which is the nicest in the whole neighborhood.

So this morning, as I'm sitting at my computer, drinking coffee and taking things slow, I noticed one of the folks from the deathmatch-cage house taking down the fence. Relieved, I went back to my work.

Then my dog started barking at the front door. I told her to zip it, and looked to see who was out there. The fence is going back up. They just took it down to start properly installing it, with post holes, corners, etc. If concrete is involved, things are going to get ugly. I know that in T's house, they are going to call the city inspectors, knowing that the neighbors have no permit to erect the fence. If they don't, they will have to tear it down.

Why doesn't T just talk to them, you ask? Because they don't speak English, that's why. Also, it's their right to erect a fence (with a permit) in their front yard. We aren't in a covenant-controlled community. It's just Denver.

So, they are going to have a 6-foot-tall chain-link fence surrounding their front yard. Oh, I've left out the best part. The reason for this fence, we all speculate with confidence, is because of their toddler. He's about 18 months old, I guess, and regularly escapes the house, sprinting down the street or sidewalk. Sprinting, I tell you. He knows something the other folks in that house don't: escaping this neighborhood is imperative! Look, there's an opening! The door's open, and they aren't watching me! Now's the time! Hit it! And off he goes.

Every day, I see an adult from that house sprinting down the street to catch the baby. Yesterday, when M. was backing out of his garage, T. had to put a body-block on the baby, because he was in full sprint, right toward their driveway. My husband has warned the people there that they need to watch that baby, because some cars come down our street rather fast, and something could happen. Well, after yesterday's almost-run-over-by-the-neighbors incident, their response is not heightened awareness of where their kid is, but a fence. A huge, cage-fence in their front yard.

Um....how about locking the front door and keeping the kid inside? How about hanging out in the already-fenced backyard? How about using a bit of discipline to teach the kid what you want? I mean, seriously. A huge front-yard fence, for your kid?

It's going to get more and more interesting.

Time to get moving

I may have my husband almost convinced about moving to the country. It won't happen anytime soon, as we can't afford it, and I am under contract, etc. However, I found a great house on 5 acres, 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, 3 car garage plus workshop, finished basement, office, etc. etc. Supremely affordable, too.

We might have to start packing up, getting rid of things, etc. We move slowly around here, so maybe this could happen within a year. Do I think that house will still be available? No, but I bet I can find something nearly as good.

Of course, don't put too much stock in this move. We haven't even finished our basement here yet. Or our backyard plans. Or our front yard plans. We may never be able to move.

'Nuther vacation log

Last Friday, cutie girl woke up with a huge swollen upper lip. It didn't get worse, so we waited until Monday to take her to the doctor, because it was still there. She has a huge welt/thingy on her upper gum, protruding out quite far, and it was bleeding. Eeew! The doctor said it was not infected, and told me to administer Children's ibuprofen and come back in a week.

Well, just since we've been doing the ibuprofen, her mood has improved considerably, as have her sleeping habits. Imagine that: pain relief means better sleep and disposition. Who woulda known?

Also, today the swelling is down considerably. Maybe we won't have to go back on Monday, after all. It was traumatic for her last time--3 people holding her down while she screamed. Yeah, I don't want to revisit that.

I've been making soap. My fatigue has impacted my practice--I made a mistake measuring last night, so I have to re-batch that tonight. Grrr. I can't unleash lye-heavy soap onto the public, though. Lye-heavy=bad. Fatty=good.

Summer Vacation Log

Well, summer vacation is in full swing. Time for an update, I guess. I feel like summer is slipping through my fingers. I can't find time to actually relax. I crave time completely alone, and I have none, really. It's difficult to find. I suppose I should schedule it.

Which I did, yesterday. Yeah, it's only 20 minutes, but I'm scheduled for an appointment with a psychic, two Fridays from now. Hee. It ought to be enlightening, and, of course, frivolous, which is what I need.

I suppose scheduling to have lunch with friends would be a good idea. Take a little time and get my feet done. Etc. Etc.

I've been spending a lot of time making soap and lip balm. Hope it pays off. Gotta make that extra credit card payment soon.

Toiletry

Today I needed a break from everybody. I've finally been getting some sleep, but since doing that, my body only wants more. I'm tired all day, now. Depression? Recovery from the school year? Who knows?

In any case, I was on the internet, and papa was watching the cutie, and I was looking at crafty things. And then I thought, "You should just go to the craft store. It is summer, you know."

So I told papa and cutie that I was going out.

However, I didn't go to the craft store. I went to Cost Plus World Marketplace. I must say, I am disappointed in their soap selection. They aren't importing handmade soaps anymore. They are all "made exclusively for Cost Plus" by some company in California. They used to have French soaps and Scottish soaps--no more. Furthermore, many of the soaps they carry are glycerin-based, and not handmade. *sigh*

After that, I went to the Cherry Creek Mall, which is right next door. I bought myself a pair of new Crocs--the flip-flop style you see above, only with a white footbed and light blue, um...outer parts.

Anyway, before I bought the shoes, I had to visit the ladies' room. Now, this is where it gets interesting. Cherry Creek has always had the best toilet stalls ever. I went in there, and closed the door, and hung my purse on the very thoughtful hook. I locked the door. I then strode to the toilet, which was a full 3 feet from the door. There is a LOT of room in those toilet stalls. And with the door locked, nobody's going to bother you. I thought to myself, the person who needed some solitude, " I could stay in here all day and read a book, and nobody would know." It was a very comforting thought. Furthermore, the stall for people with disabilities is so large, a mother with a large stroller could fit in there, comfortably. They do have a family restroom that is spacious, as well, but in a pinch someone could use that stall. Or they could set it up as a small office.

With my new Crocs in hand, I walked on and found myself in front of the "handmade" soap store. I guess most of their soap is, indeed, handmade. I found some that wasn't, but whatever. They had good stuff, mostly. I bought a sugar scrub, thinking I can reproduce it for myself. I don't think I want to sell them, as there are preservative issues involved.

But I bet I can recreate it close enough that I'll be happy with it. I need to use it on my feet. They are currently hideous.

OMG!

Online marketing easy strategy number 1 (one):

Always, always, ALWAYS put a link to your book/soap/whatever in your email signature line.

This week, my website link was posted to a writing newsletter, unbeknownst to me. I sent the editor an email, thanking her for a good idea she had, and that I pursued. It seems she included every single part of my email, including the website link and book link.

Of course, she's a publisher, so she knows how important these links are.

I HEART ANGELA HOY! If you are a writer, you should too. Go join the WritersWeekly newsletter and forum. It's great networking, great fun, and run by a great gal.

Nobody knows this.

Nobody knows how depressed I can get in the early days of summer.

I suspect I'm not the only teacher that feels this way, which is why I'm revealing it. It takes me a long while to shed the stress of the school year. Since it ends very suddenly, and summer begins very suddenly, the transition can be tough. I still feel the need to fill my days to the brim. I still feel the need to work 12 hours each day, at least. I still feel like I should fall into bed each night, so exhausted that I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.

And so I schedule things--all the things that didn't get finished during the school year. Banking, cleaning, shredding junk mail, sorting laundry for the goodwill, gardening projects, etc. etc. It all gets very big and looms very large, and then I have something to stress out about.

At which point, I start to get very depressed.

I'm used to being under a tremendous amount of stress, and I'm used to working a tremendous amount each day, so that when I sit and think, "I should be relaxing," I can't relax, because my list is so long. I think, "No time for that--there's too much to finish."

I have no balance in my life during the school year, and I don't have much balance in the summer anymore, either. It's far better than last year, however, when I was working for the university--that was far worse.

So today, I haven't done much in the way of anything. I did unmold the soap I made last night, and cleaned my mold and prepared it for tonight's soap. Otherwise...I've put in a load of laundry, and played with my daughter, and had a lengthy, in-person conversation with a friend. Watered the tomatoes. Made some mac and cheese for the cutie.

I'm still depressed, though. I feel trapped.

Ahem.

See?

Beast, Shmeast.

Oh, brother. Here we go.

I saw a HUGE write-up in the Rocky Mountain News today, about , of all things, tomorrow's date. June 6, 2006. If written numerically, 06.06.06.


May I be the first to say



WHOOOPITY-DING-DONG.


This is the most ridiculous excuse for getting worked up that I can imgaine. Don't we remember Y2K? Don't we remember what happened? That's right: NOTHING!

Nothing happened. The calendar turned. No earthquakes. No fire and brimstone, for certain. No end-of-the-world. Not even an end of the internet!

And now, this. Now we have talk of women scheduling C-sections so that their babies won't be born on that date. I don't know if that's true, it's just something I've read, and I can't imagine if a news story actually can establish it as fact. However, I wouldn't put it past some people.

I hope my feelings are clear: this is LUDICROUS. We are all going to get up tomorrow, brush our teeth, shower or not, and go about our day. Nothing untoward is going to happen that is out of the ordinary. No spawn of "Satan" is going to spring out of the ground, and begin wreaking havoc on the masses.

Nope. Not gonna happen. Absolutely ridiculous.

Egocentric

So I was at a baby shower today, and we began discussing different neighborhoods in Denver. Blah blah blah, my neighborhood is mentioned, and someone asked, "Is that the King Soopers with all the Jesus candles?"

"Um....I guess so?" I answered. And next was the moment when I showed my egocentrism:

"Don't all the grocery stores have the Jesus candles?"

"Um.....NOOO0OOOOOOOooooo, they don't!" was the ubiquitous answer. Well. I didn't know that. Because, apparently, if they sell Jesus candles in my grocery store, they sell them in all stores. Silly me, forgetting about "target markets" and such.

THEN the conversation changed to the Jesus candle, and whether or not they make Hindu candles that look like the Jesus candles, but have the Hindu gods on them. As you can see above, they do.

I'm gonna get me some tomorrow.

Discounted Soap! Get yours now!

Okay, folks, this is the deal:

When making soap, it is important to keep track of the ingredients involved very carefully. Making soap is not like cooking--a mistake can mean the soap will be drastically altered. On the bad end, too much lye means the soap will be caustic to the skin, causing extreme irritation.

That's not what happened here.

I was making my Lavender Calendula Baby Soap--standard recipe (100% olive oil) that I've done many, many times. Well, I missed a tick mark when I was measuring out the pounds of oil and........I added an extra pound to the batch. The result: a very soft soap, that holds its bar shape, smells fabulous, and is GUARANTEED not to last very long. Or lather much.

However! You, as the reader of this blog, have the opportunity of a lifetime! Okay, the opportunity of a month when the soap maker was scatterbrained--these soaps are ultra-gentle, ultra-soothing, and ultra-discounted. Each bar of this particular soap is just $2.00. I've got 36 bars.

Let me know how many bars you would like to reserve. I'm not stamping them with my groovy stamp, either. We've just got to get these soaps out to the people.

Oh, and one more thing: the soaps were in the mold, near the window. Bad Dog jumped up on them to get to the window. BAD DOG! So, some of the soaps have paw/claw prints in them. No worries--the soap was covered with plastic at the time. *sigh* Welcome to my world.


Contact me through my website to order these bars.

Make that "Spring Vacation."

We made it through the first real heat wave of the year unscathed. And now I sit, sipping hot tea and wearing a sweater, in my kitchen. It is 61 degrees outside currently, and much cooler than that in the shade, of course. And it feels cooler than that in our house, the windows of which were open all night, because we've made that a habit, what with the heat.

But not tonight, I think.

No, today it is supposed to be a perfect 74 degrees. I plan on taking the cutie to the park to wear her out. We might go by a street festival I know of, as well. Get a funnel cake. (I don't like these, but I'm betting my cutie will.)

My snapdragons are up and blooming. The photo is from google--not mine. Mine are a firey orange-red with orange centers, and a darker red. I have a few in my window box as well, that are pink with yellow centers. I love snapdragons. We plan on doing a lot of gardening this summer. I think the day after tomorrow will be a good day for it, as it is supposed to rain tomorrow, and digging in this horrible clay dirt after a few dry, hot days is a nightmare. We're planting trees and creating flower beds, hauling bark chips and flagstone, and good dirt in bags. Coming from Iowa, there is still a bit of hilarity in my mind when I purchase a huge bag of something called "Supersoil." In Iowa, that's called simply, "dirt."

Summer vacation is here.

Today is the first day of this year's summer vacation. It usually takes me until Monday to register that I'm on vacation. However, my margarita and beer yesterday helped me to feel relaxed and vacation-y. I'm paying for it this morning (such a teetotaler). Took some ibuprofen and had some coffee with my eggs-and-toast breakfast. That is another indicator that I'm on vacation, too.

I must confess my sadness at this school year ending, mixed with overwhelming relief. The relief comes from this infernal year simply ending. I conferred with several colleagues who have been teaching a long time (one of them for 40 years), and they confirmed that this year was one of the most difficult. Our principal got sacked 2/3 of the way through, so our AP took over, and we got a new AP. But then we got a new principal for next year, who is bringing in her own AP (apparently they can do that), so our old AP is out, too. I don't know how I feel about our new principal--she's been working in a school where many of the children are hand-picked, and doesn't understand why two people run our discipline office. Ha. I think she's going to have what is known as a "rude awakening."

The sadness comes from losing another friend to the lure of adventure. Friend S. is attempting to secure a teaching job elsewhere. He does not want to stay in this school district, and since he is single, is searching for jobs in places he would like to live--Scotland, Montana...and somewhere else I can't remember. He's moved out of his apartment, because his roommate is getting married and has moved out. This spurred him to purge his belongings and move the stuff he wanted to keep down to his mom's place.

Yesterday, the last day of school, I kept running off to the lavatory or some other private place, to cry. I can't imagine not teaching with S. next year. We've been teaching together for the past four years, and during the first year became very close friends, and have been since. We team-teach every day, me being the special ed teacher. I feel like I'll never see him again, which is possible.

Just last week, some friends of mine moved out of state. I feel like people are running away from me, and I'm filled with sadness. It's a difficult time in my heart.

This pain is lessened, however, by my daughter, who climbed into bed with us in the middle of the night, and since she wasn't kicking either of us in the kidneys, we left here there. I woke up looking at my girl, blinking slowly, turning her head, looking at me, smiling, whispering, "Hi, Mama," in the sunshine. Was it coming from the window or from her face?

I suppose I'll make it.

Go read this.

Do it now. You won't be sorry. These bitches truly are hilarious.