bonjour!

I don't feel like I've been anywhere.  That didn't used to bother me much, but I think I'm growing out of that phase.

When I was in college, I had a roommate for one year that was an exchange student from France.  Isabelle was so much fun!  What I liked about her was her sense of adventure.  She just showed up with hardly anything more than the clothes on her back, and she made friends easily and soon had a place to live (my apartment) and the bare necessities.

I loved to listen to her speak.  Even though I didn't understand a lick of French (still don't, really).  Such a pretty langue.  Next to it, English to me sounds flat and boring.  She could be talking about the weather or cleaning the bathroom, and yet be so emotive.  Even when she spoke English with her French accent, English sounded so much better.

With Isabelle at a rodeo.  I have no idea where she got that hat.

She was only here for a year and wanted to take full advantage.  She wanted to do "Amareekan theengz!"  We'd go bowling, we'd eat nachos.  And it wasn't just with me.  I was an overly scheduled engineering student with a part-time job.  She always had something fun going on with somebody.

And the boys she left in her wake, oh, those poor heartbroken boys... 







Magnum and I have been watching more foreign movies lately, and I find that the more I watch, the less I am interested in Hollywood movies.  I'm sure there are some really bad foreign films, but we've come across a few really good ones, and they're giving me the travel bug.  I want to go to Europe - France, Norway, Belgium, Italy, Greece, ... 


Magnum likes to travel.  He likes Europe too.  When he was in the army, he was stationed in Italy and got to play around there a while.  My "worldly" travels consist of a Mexican border town and the Canadian side of Niagra Falls.  *SIGH*

Maybe we should formulate a plan to go to France.  I have no idea what has become of Isabelle.  I like to think that she is happy.  She was studying to be a teacher, an English teacher.  What a hoot it would be to find her after all these years.

Isabelle, c'est moi!  It's me!
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kindergarten consolation

It was a bittersweet time for me when Meego started kindergarten.  I still remember his first day as he wore a backpack that was nearly as big as he was.  He was excited, though, and I was excited for him, even though I knew I would miss having him as my constant compagnon.  I had spent the previous 11 years with at least one, and usually more, kids home with me during those weekdays.  It was like "Empty Nest Lite".

At least it was an easy transition.  He only went to school in the afternoons, so we had our mornings together.  That first afternoon, I took him to his classroom and all us kindergarten moms hung around as the teacher read a story.  There were tears - some downright wailing and bawling in fact.  Some of the kids were crying too... 

Not Meego.  Finally, it was his turn to be a school kid, rather than a volunteer mom tag-along.  Shortly after the start of that school year, I thought that he and I should go out and mark this life transition.  One morning, the two of us headed out for some quality time.

To the bike shop.

I mean, right?  What better way to celebrate/console myself than to buy a new bicycle?  He had a new teacher, new friends, new school stuff.  What about my needs?!?

The bicycle I had at the time was like the minivan of bicycles.  It was sturdy (heavy) and had a child's seat for Meego attached.  He was moving on, I should too.  We went to the bike shop and that's when I met Bella. 

Just as I had mixed emotions about Meego starting school, I had mixed emotions about making such a purchase for myself.  At that time, I wasn't bringing in any income, and I had trouble buying things for myself.  I justified Bella in knowing that riding her would save on gas expense.  I'm not necessarily a recreational rider.  I like to use my bicycles for "getting stuff done". 

That was over six years ago now, and we've gotten a s***load of stuff done!  What a great bicycle - goes most anywhere I want her to take me, all the while looking good. 

Last week I took her in for her annual spa treatment, and I just picked her up today.  All shiny and cleansed and rejuvenated - ready for action.  See how perdy?

And yes, a few years ago, I added the speedy Tessa the roadbike as further consolation or whatever.  But Bella is a milestone marker for me.


Ma belle bicyclette

I yam what I yam

As March rolls in, I realize that I've managed to keep up this blogging-every day for three and a half months.  I did go ahead and "officially" sign up over at BlogHer for another month of reading and writing - it's not just writing everyday, it's reading others' blogs too.  But to me, the two go hand in hand.   I don't see me doing one without the other.   



This month's theme is "whether" and asks us to choose between two given alternatives.  Today's prompt is:
 "Would you rather have more blog readers or more blog comments?"

I don't  have a ready answer.

When I started blogging, what appealed to me was the idea of having a "place" that was mine.   Just mine.  This was back in the days when a solitary trip to the bathroom was a real treat.  To my surprise and delight,  I got some readers AND some comments.  But even without them, I think I would still blog, even though nobody cares to accompany me to the bathroom anymore.

Plus, what makes blogging different and more fun than private journaling to me, is the idea that someone might read it. 

I remember a blog friend from days gone by who is now a f*book casualty.  She would get very offended if people read but didn't comment, to the point where she would often admonish such activity in her posts.  I didn't share that view.  My blog doesn't come with rules for readers.   It's not because I'm indifferent, but the opposite.  I'm happy that anyone stops by, I'm not about to place limits.

I notice, too, that the blogs I prefer to read (you know who you are!) are those that don't obsess over increasing traffic and collecting followers.  Or, if they do, they're pretty good at hiding it.

I think trying to appeal to the masses would take the enjoyment out of blogging.  It's like when I decide to make a painting or drawing, I just do what I'm in the mood for.  If I only created stuff that would look good next to the couch, that wouldn't be as fun.  Take me or leave me, this blog is often just a ramble.  No coupons, no tent sales. 

That said, the prompt got me thinking, and I did a check on my traffic stats for the past month.  Here are the top 5 searches that landed people here:

"Parkour girl" 
"Boobs" 
"School bus bike" 
"Compression tights women" 
"Fat people artist" 


Hmmm.... how very Shakespearean.
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wake up!!

That's what I wanted to shout out to all the resolution runners that I've been missing for the last month or so - not expecting to see again, until maybe next January.  This was the kind of morning to encourage an addiction!

I got up to go for a run  this morning and it was a balmy 40 degrees at 5am.  I had to stop and think.  I couldn't remember what to wear for 40 degrees, a good 15 to 20 degrees warmer to what I've become accustomed to.  Turns out, I could have gone with one less layer, but a westerly breeze kept me alive.

So it was a very enjoyable morning out, getting home just before sunrise.  Just a couple of weeks ago, when I returned home from a morning bender, my hands were too frozen to operate the thumblum of the door lock.  Luckily, they made for very effective stumps for banging on the door until Wolfgang opened it for me.  My hands eventually thawed, and I got to learn a new word - "thumblum".

No frozen stumps this morning, though.  In addition, I was wearing a new pair of running shoes for their first time out of the box.  They felt wondeful, very comfy speedy.   Two toes up.



So here's a pic of the freshly deflowered shoes and  what is left of my purge purchase - a tower of totes!  The rest of the stuff I bribed bought from the family of hoarders is in the trash dumpster where it rightfully belongs. 

The totes will be picked up by the thrift store truck later in the week, to someday become some other mom's pain.

Sunshine, new shoes, a tower o' crap.   It's gonna be a great day!

let's make a deal

In my past life, as a manufacturing engineer, my job duties included participation in contract negotiations with suppliers.  It was my job to know where every penny of every part's cost came from.  To this day, I look at "things" and sometimes mentally rack up an estimated cost to make them.  The high price of eyeglass frames, for instance, baffles me somewhat.  Manufacturing cost and market value are certainly NOT the same thing.

Supplier negotiations weren't my favorite part of the job, but they were bearable.  If nothing else, they prepared me for parenthood.  Geesh, it seems like every freaking day includes some wheeling and dealing where money is not the only medium of commerce!  I've been known to actually say, "Negotiate with me!  And do it with out whining (dammit)!"

In those old professional days, the concern was to "not leave anything on the table" once the contract was signed.  And that's where I am now. 

I'm tired of all the stuff on the table... and the floors, and the shelves, and the closets, and the etc.

There are totes and boxes and hodge podges of stuff that our kids haven't used in years or at least months.  It's occurred to me that the main function of these piles is to provide a barrier to me, as I'm the only one that moves them around or even seems to notice their existence.

I want them out and I'm willing to pay.  It's come to that.  Yes, I'm willing to pay hard earned cash for the privilege of throwing stuff away.

I have done similar with favorable results.  I've paid them a dollar a pound for anything they purged (within reason).  This time, I've just gathered up the disagreeable materials and have an offer on the hopefully soon-to-be cleared table. 

And don't tell them, but I'm willing to go higher.  Notably higher.

In my days as a cost engineer, I got to negotiate contracts worth millions of dollars.  This particular deal is worth much more than that, though.  Namely, my sanity!


Update:  They got me for twice my original offer.  Still a total bargain!
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Silver Liningness

And a beautiful Sunday it is!  Really, it's about 60 degrees and sunny outside.  March is coming in like a lamb in our neck of the woods.  On Friday, I took Bella the bicycle in for her annual spa treatment.  I get her back on Wednesday - just in time for the weather to crap out. 

BUT, this is about silver linings, not clouds.  This week's highlight belongs to Chaco and his robot arm for the Science Olympiad.  For those not familiar, Science Olympiad is a competetive event for - surprise - science.  High schools form  teams and then compete against each other in a variety of categories and events. 

Chaco built this robot arm.  From scratch.  His geek parents are impressed, and apparently the judges were too (most entries were built from kits, the SLACKERS!).  Chaco's didn't do all of the tasks, but the fact that he built it from scratch and had everything so well documented earned him and the team a good load of points.  And I swear that we must be part owners of Radio Shack by now.

I won't go into the technical details, but he bit off a lot to chew with this project.  He was discouraged that it wasn't performing up to snuff in time for the competition.  My thought was that if it did everything he'd set out to have it do, it would be EPIC.  We can't always have epic, then there'd never be epic.

In the end, he was happy with it after receiving the accolades from the judges.  We made a short film last night, and by then the arm was clearly in anarchy mode - refusing to obey. 

Title:  Sloth of the Machine.
Plot synopsis:  A programmable robot arm rises up against its creator and refuses to perform by attaching itself to a giga desk.

And yes, Chaco is wrapped in a big blanket.  He'd earned his couch time, but I made him get up for the epic film.




And so now the team has made it into the state competition.  By then, I expect this thing to be doing the laundry.
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Intention

This week's Illustration Friday prompt is "intention".

What is any artist's intention?  To create something nice or to have fun trying? 
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