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Schamtta (Yid): a rag or a kerchief. Think industrious cleaning expedition with a vaguely ethnic flavor…

1. I have been so productive ! Now that I am no longer endlessly tethered to my desk, I have noticed that there are many areas in my house that have gone too long neglected. I started with, and completely reorganized, my bookshelf. It is now no longer a sucking energy wound of piles and haphazardly shoved books, etc. Behold:

2. Did you know that dust breeds with abandon when you’re not watching? It’s best not to describe what I have been finding when I look critically at some places I have not critically looked at in too long.

3. I filed and organized all the bills that once frolicked on my desk. What is about our capacity to NOT see something? The pile didn’t bug the crap out of me until I could afford to notice it and now, I can’t NOT see it. SO gone.

4. I have now officially run out of paper recycling bags for the masses of paper I have accumulated over the semester. Since I almost never go the store without my own bags, my collection has dwindled, so now I pile paper in boxes. It’s either that or press my nose to the yuletide-decorated glass of the local grocery store and look pathetic until someone shoves paper bags at me to make me go away.

5. Guests are coming! Our first set arrive on Sunday evening for their 4th winter break visit. Ron and my DH have known one another since they were pasty-faced brats and now they are both old (balding, and yet still brilliant) married men with snarky wives, we have a grand old time. When Ron and his lovely bride Erin leave, Leeba and her daughter will arrive, just in time to ring in the new year.

6. To prepare for the guestage, I am yeah, cleaning, but also stocking up. I always bake my brains out, cook lots of lamb, soup and make elaborate, many ingrediented salads and I anticipate a lot of eating and making merry. Let’s not discuss the fruit drawer at the moment, okay?

7. Our holiday projects include making lip balm, so I have some of the ingredients – organic bee’s wax, jojoba oil and some essential oils. What I need before this idea turns into a disastrous mess leaking onto my floor, is a dedicated balm pot I can bespoil – one that will never be cooked in. Cleaning that sucker will be a wretched task, so no thank you.

8. One other project will be finishing and laquering a tiny bookshelf for my bedroom, which I will gleefully fill with all the books in my “read me now, dammit” pile. I won;t write the titles down or I will end up grabbing one and heading for the couch BEFORE I get more done.

9. My wonderful sister got me a new Mp3 player, so I plan to rip old CDs to my media player, and come up with kickass playlists to work out to, clean up to – am I alone in needing some auditory assistance while I bop around with brooms? Sometimes, it’s Midnight Oil, sometimes, it’s Dave Mathews, sometimes it’s KT Tunstall, or the Killers.

10. Tomorrow, Monkey is staying home, as she’s decided that watching a movie (her 7th grade classes watched THREE today – Toy Story in Spanish, Hercules in Social Studies, and something about the ancient wonders of the world in World Cultures) and going skating are things she’d rather not do. Instead, she will be reading in bed all morning until the half day is over, and Boo comes home. Then, they will put schmattas on their heads and clean along with me!

I hope all of you have a wonderful, restful, recharging and special holiday. Happy, Merry, Joyful Everything.

Heading up North to be together…

My Dad can’t travel far from Canada, even though his doc says he’s fine, so we’re converging in Burlington, VT, just over the border.  There is a storm coming, so we may head back tonight. We shall see.

Happy Saturday!

I am ALL over this.

Apparently, there is a Facebo*ok phenomenon afoot to foster good British/US relations, with the Big Apple Brits hoping to bring out some of the 80 thousand members tomorrow  to a pub somewhere in NYC so they can converse with each other in posh, Cockney, London, Northern and whatever accents we poor benighted Yanks can only aspire to.

In solidarity, I will be  faking it all day. Chili, be warned.

However, I can think of other causes that perhaps haven’t received the recognition in the form 0f national days they may deserve.

1. National fart with impunity day.

2. Garlic breath from hell day.

3. National talk with a fake Russian accent day. Like the one by the kid who played Chekov in Star Trek. Wictor, Wictor One…

4. National recite your favorite Monty Python moments day.

6. National count how many seconds you can hold your breath underwater day.

7. National scratch yourself with something inappropriate day.

8. National eat something you hate day.

9. National call your most annoying relative day.

10. National strip (almost) naked and run (or swim) around in the (frigid water)  snow day.

Um, like these crazy Canadians:

What important, otherwise neglected causes do YOU think should be observed?

CaJones of steel

Over this past weekend, I received not one attempt to slip in a long-overdue paper, but TWO. Apparently, these student cannot read syllabi. Text messages? No problem.

These final papers were due nearly 3 weeks ago, and have been all graded and, due to a snowstorm that precluded class meeting, scanned, turned into .pdf attachments, and emailed back to the students. Well, to those students that handed them in.

One of these students is barely passing and will be lucky if he manages a D+, while the other hovers around the C range, by dint in her case of otherwise exemplary work.

Still another student failed to hand in her argument paper AND her informational papers – both of which count, along with all their source work and their final research essay, for 40 percent of their grade. A week ago in the library this student – we’ll call her Lauren – handed me a copy of her final essay. When I leafed through and discovered she had no works cited page, I handed it back to her and asked her to email it to me, or submit it to the class online dropbox.

She never did.

Today, she emailed me to ask if I had graded her essay yet, as she had some questions.

I replied with this:

Lauren;
I never received your paper. You handed it to me that day in the library, but when I noticed you hadn’t included a works cited page, you took it back and said you’d email it to me.

Prof O’Mama

Then, I thought about how she might read this; that she might kill herself to get me that paper ASAP,  and quickly wrote her again.

Lauren;

I am replying again to let you know that even if you did hand in your final paper, because it is so late and because you failed to turn in your argument and your informational papers, it is not statistically possible for you to pass this course. I know you had a lot going on this semester, but I feel like another go at this course and its deadlines will serve you well. I wish you all the best.

Prof O’Mama

What is it about some people that requires they sabotage their lives and their potential successes? Obviously, less0ns – hard, non-sugercoated ones -are necessary and apparently, the Universe has decided that I be the conduit for Lauren’s and others’ lessons in syllabus reading, the evils of procrastination, and the immutable definition of LATE.  It kills me, however, and I HATE having to do it, but I know it’s necessary.


May the light shine in everyone’s lives.

Happy Hanukkah!*

* As this word is actually a Hebrew word,  (חנוכה ) it has many English spelling interpretations.  It’s ALL good.

Making myself a hazelnut chocolate torte…

It’s my birthday WEEKEND.  Mmmmmmm.

43 Trips Around the Sun

As of 11:10 this morning, I will have reached a new milestone.

It’s going to be a good day, too. I’m going to have lunch with Chili, and walk  and poke around (in the BRRR) quaint coastal town, which I know is going to be lovely. It’s been a long semester and I have missed the relative freedom of hanging out with dear ones with no huge pile of grading looming overhead.

Tonight, the clan and I are heading over to my favorite restaurant in the same small coastal town, where we used to enjoy regular weekly meals. Now we go only occasionally, but when I do call ahead to be put on the list, I am asked if I am “The” O’Mama – and then when we arrive my family and I are greeted warmly and chatted with by all the serving staff we’ve come to know over the years. It feels like a little bit of home.  With GREAT oven-baked flatbread pizza. Mmmm

My twin and I will be on the phone during the minutes between my birth and hers, as we try to do each year, and we’ll laugh.

It’s a good life, and I am so blessed.

It may be MY birthday, but I hope all of you have many happy returns – of a lovely and meaningful day – as well.

So much to blog about lately, but I will start with getting the impending Bat Mitzvah of my youngest daughter sorted. What a load off.

In early September, Bob and I went up to Maine, and visited the Cliffhouse, a wonderful spa/resort that we thought might be a perfect venue for Monkeyface’s upcoming Bat Mitzvah in September. I gave the (ditsy, disorganized, unresponsive) woman in sales our ball park budget, and the ball started rolling (apparently  in sports metaphors).

Weeks went by with n0 word, so I emailed and called in order to get a sense of the range we were discussing. Nothing.

Then, I got word that the chef had given his 2 weeks’ notice and would we like to meet with the (lovely, apologetic, articulate) banquet manager?

So, we trekked up there, took photos, oohed, aahed and left feeling like this was a distinct possibility.

Weeks went by with no quote, so once again, I called and emailed and then, on Thanksgiving day, I received a line-itemed quote… for 22.3K (which may or may not reflect the price of food, depending on consumption). HOW had the lines got so badly crossed?

It turns out that our date is prime wedding season, so they gave us a wedding quote, complete with 3500 in room rentals, another 2 in ceremony fees, and $140 per person for food. I emailed back and asked them if there was room for middle ground.  Sure, said they: but could you cut down your guest list to 40 people, and do a buffet?

To quote, Chili, I emailed back and politely told them they could shove it, sideways, where the sun doesn’t shine. Clearly, they would rather have weddings – for which they were booked every weekend except that 0ne in the summer – instead of tweaking their packages for us and people like us who aren’t marrying someone off. In short, not us,  who WOULD look askance at exorbitant prices.

Fortunately, Bob  and the girls and I had overlooked something. Years back, when Boo was the Bat Mitzvah girl, we had held our reception at the now closing conference center of localU. As we knew they would not be open any longer, we wrote them off until we were alerted about the wonderful halls and meeting rooms we could use at localU for the catered event AND the ceremony.

This morning, Bob and I met with the head of catering, its head chef, and we believe our upcoming event will be nothing short of fantastic. The chef has great ideas about how to use the fresh,  local, organic, fair trade foods we’ve requested, and the best is that we’ll be able to do the whole thing for a very reasonable price. He’ll have a taste testing for us at the end of the summer, and Monkey will be involved in the now, settled, planning we will embark on.

Finally, as we are not members of local Temple (new Rabbi, new vibe that doesn’t sit well with us), we will be working with our great friend Sphyrnatude for the religious ceremony; he was Boo’s tutor, will ably support Monkey as she leads services, has his own Torah, and is a member of the family.

The chef is working on the menu, but let me just say that just reading the suggested menu made my mouth water. As soon as I have it, I will post it here. Just have something to mop your mouth when you do. Droolworthy, really.

Tentative menu choices:

One of the entrees: Citrus and mint marinated chicken breast accompanied by a slow roasted shallot, cranberry and peach chutney, finished with toasted almonds.

soup: gingered apple butternut squash soup.

Yum.

Snow coming: poppies wait until Spring.

Maybe it’s time to dig up the garlic?

Snow. Low around 29. Blustery, with a north wind between 21 and 23 mph. Chance of precipitation is 100%. New snow accumulation of 3 to 5 inches possible

Claxon OFF

My dad is home, feeling grumpy and exhausted (’cause nothing like 4 days in the hospital for a nice, restive holiday), and about to have his medication changed. He isn’t getting a pacemaker – yet – but instead is being put on a new drug with a host of delightful side effects including but not limited to vomiting, diarrhea, nausea, dizziness, leg cramps, shortness of breath, chest pain, yadda yadda – some of which are symptoms that sent him to emergency in the first place. He’s got the gods in white coats thing that seems to prevent him from looking up side effects himself, and I seem to be ranting…

Thank you for your thoughts while I rolled out the worry. With aging parents, one never knows.

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