New Year

We spent the weekend in Fort Lauderdale visiting the King Tut exhibit and various family members, fixing various family members' computers, seeing a movie, and dropping in on some friends and celebrating the New Year with them whether they wanted to or not.

King Tut was disappointing, sorry to say. Unlike Concierge's visit (I couldn't find the link, but I'm pretty sure it was her post) there were no hands-on activities for the younger set. Not a one. And no mummy! I understand that the famous funerary mask, the one being intentionally misrepresented in all the advertising, "bait and switch" I think they call it, is too fragile to travel, but where was Tut? Only two of the eight or so rooms contained items specifically belonging to the boy king. His mummified remains were only seen on a video, something I could have stayed home to see, well, maybe if we had cable. The other items were from his royal relatives' burials. Howard Carter had only the briefest of mentions. I would have loved to see more on the task of excavating the tomb and the cataloguing of the contents. Unfortunately, the museum is just too darned small. The trunks and other storage pieces were incredibly beautiful and well preserved, and I enjoyed seeing them, but the highlight of my day was observing the hordes who have apparently never been to a museum before. I suspect they have all been to Disney World though, something that occurred to me as they all passively shuffled en masse from one case to another, stuck to the person in front of them. Mix it up people, move around! The Museum of Fine Arts, Boston has a great collection and we couldn't see enough of the Metropolitan Museum of Art's collection. I can't wait to one day visit the British Museum, or better yet, Egypt.

Blast From the Past Department -- I once sniffed the inside of a mummy case in a touring exhibit that came to Miami. Jorge is just learning of this now. We were only dating at the time, and, well, he might have thought I was weird. It smelled like Grandma's closet, minus the mothballs.

If you remember my Ancients plan that should have been in place this year before we spun off in another direction, it looks a little different now. I have finally found the spine for our studies and fashioned my list of preferred titles into a nearly chronological, basically comprehensive study thanks to The Learning Company. The courses on Ancient Greek Civilization and History of Ancient Rome were WAY too detailed, fabulous, but more in depth than I wanted. Good thing they have an incredibly liberal return policy, although with the ease of illegally duplicating media, I always feel a certain amount of concern that my motives are being questioned, much like the people who end up on department stores' secret list of multiple returns. (A friend who couldn't bear to use dressing rooms and would try endless amounts of clothing on at home ended up on Filene's blacklist, a fact revealed to me by my cousin, an employee of that department.) Instead we will use Great Authors of the Western Literary Tradition which we already have and works for all four cycles of historical study adequately covering general historical and autobiographical background, analysis of major works, and explanations of major themes. In addition, the short twelve lecture courses for Homer's Iliad and Odyssey will accompany our reading of those books, all with an eye toward streamlining and being completely mobile (hint, hint.)

The kids stayed with my parents for a few days over the school holiday while I worked, and when I arrived late Friday evening Elle gave me a start. She couldn't find her little "body of Christ" Nanny gave her. That's what I heard, anyway. Flashback to the time when my mother threatened to secretly baptize any children my brother might have with his Jewish (ex)wife, and to the time in the hospital after Elle was born and I was deathly ill with an antibiotic resistant alpha strep infection and my mother offered to share her Father McDonough holy water with me. (I told her thanks, I would put it in my peri bottle.) So I suspected Nanny was up to her old tricks again. Elle was digging through the bathroom drawer when I asked her what was the body she was looking for.
"It's a bot-tle, Mama, not a bot-tee."

"Oh. Okay. Well what's in the bottle?" Seemed like I was on the right holy water track after all.

"Christ, I told you! Here it is!" She proudly pulled out her very own sample sized tube of Crest toothpaste.

Jorge's mom kindly watched the kids New Year's Eve so we could see Brokeback Mountain and then visit some friends. Heath Ledger is my bet for Best Actor. I found E. Annie Proulx's short story online and knew what was coming so the last few minutes of the movie I chanted, "I will not cry, I will not cry..." And then I wanted to smoke a cigarette. Jorge didn't see the big controversy, one of his favorite movies is Midnight Cowboy, and Heath Ledger even reminded him a bit of Jon Voight. Afterward we chased away all lingering traces of sadness with two of the funniest people we know. It was a great way to start off the new year.

Happy '06, everyone.

Christmas, etc.

The blind was a great idea, but Elle decided it was way too risky to chance being caught. What might happen? Would she scare Santa away? What if he took off without leaving presents? Instead, the three girls decided to sleep in one bedroom with the door securely shut. Their sense of fairness was sweet. If Sarabelle wandered from her room first, she would have had a sneak peek at whatever was under the tree. If the others were up first and went to fetch her, they would have had a first look at the loot. So sharing the one room leveled the playing field. Because we are now in a house with a split floor plan -- something foreign to us, we who kept the kids in the room with us until they were at least two years of age and who typically had one or more in our bed at some point during any given night -- the girls hatched a plan to awaken us so that we could prepare the music and tree lights before escorting them all from their room. Gracie signaled us around 9:00 AM, bless their hearts, with a sharp blast on her recorder. I shot out of bed so quickly I nearly decapitated myself on the ceiling fan.

There was much screaming and stomping around, in a good way; they were absolutely thrilled with their surprises. Santa dropped off a pair of lovely dresses from this place for Sarabelle; this really cool bike for Gracie (Remember these?!); and a new wagon with a big teddy bear friend for Elle to pull around. A game, and stocking knickknacks for each, plus a few books and a DVD from Mom and Dad, and that was it. Just enough.

Several gifts turned up even though the givers had at first been gently discouraged, and then clearly warned against giving. Our plan to donate inappropriate or unwanted gifts to charity was clearly stated up front. This did not dissuade the givers though, who feigned surprise and later outrage at our reaction. In the end we returned said items to the givers because they did not want their money wasted on charitable gifts. They will be recycled to some other, presumably, more grateful family member. Think they've learned their lesson? I wouldn't count on it.

There was no driving from coast to coast to coast this year. Imagine that! We managed to hang out all day at our house and relax and play with our kids. A goose was even cooked, somewhat successfully, and served on the new dining room set that was finally taken out of the boxes cluttering up our living room for weeks and assembled for such an auspicious occasion. Jorge had to have some work to do; it couldn't be all fun and games now, could it? Later in the evening we sat down to share O Brother, Where Art Thou?, the latest in our Netflix lineup, with Jorge. All in all, it was a wonderful day. I don't even think we had one single argument. Of course it probably helped that I kept reminding the kids that if they wanted to celebrate Christmas, they had better behave like Christians.

Blogging at work is never a good idea...

...but I heard this on NPR on my way in and just had to share it with you:

Lewis Lapham is retiring as editor of Harper's this year after nearly 30 years on the job and has a new venture in the works: Publishing a history magazine that focuses on one event in current history per issue, working up an anthology of historical writings on the subject, and applying them to the current topic. He was tossing around the names of Herodotus and Cicero for examples.

Sounds like A Thomas Jefferson Education to me.

Santa Blind

Artwork entitled: "Santa Claus or St. Nicholas and L______"

"I love you Santa Claus"

Strategically placed beside the tree, Elle's blind has been stocked with pillows, blankets, and her favorite doll. She has been sleeping in it the past two nights, dry runs in preparation for this evening when she hopes to catch a peek at the jolly old elf.

Next

I may be finishing Post Captain this evening! It has been in my possession since October, so it's about time, eh? Gotta love the library with no late fees.

The big question is:

What shall I read next?

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe

 
 

Hallelujah

First the good news. The bad news is that students will not be exposed to His Noodly Appendage as part of their public school education.

Okay. Now we need to work on this. Natalie at Ramblings, Rants & Remedies has got the ball rolling...

One more milestone

My children have developed an appreciation for the Three Stooges, or as Elle calls them, "the three dumb guys," introduced to them via Netflix (Curly Classics.)

I can't wait until I hear my first, "Moe...Larry...the cheese!"

Hoot

We haven't gone to see Narnia yet, probably will this weekend, but apparently the theatrical trailer for Hoot is included in the previews.

If you haven't seen it either, here's a peek and an article on the trailer from the Boca Beacon.

And here is a link to the local filming archives.

Also on the Beacon's website if you are so inclined, (only for the week of December 16 though) are stories on how the poor Florida children at the local public charter school (wink, wink) got in the holiday spirit; the shocking Bush holiday change of plans; and a brief mention of a speed trap set up at the bridge. Bastards. I'm fighting it. See you in court.

Christmas Cactus

Milestones

Gracie has reached a level of educational achievement that eluded me in my school days. She can produce a noise from her armpit by vigorously pumping the limb up and down that sounds like breaking wind. She is branching out after perfecting her technique and is currently working on producing the same sound with the backs of her knees. I am one proud Mama.

---

Channeling Sally Field: "They like me! They really like me!" Though in Ms. Field's case she scored a statuette. Did you know about this?!



Big surprise for me when I went to go vote via Mental Multivitamin's link last night. In two categories yet. I don't expect to win, but finding myself among such fine company, it truly is an honor just to be nominated. My sincerest thanks to my nominator and any potential voters. After agonizing over my choices, I juggled my votes and managed, after getting my daughter to log in and vote also, to cover all my buddies.

Did anyone vote for themselves? I thought long and hard about this and wondered if the leader of the free world might ever possibly consider casting his vote for the other guy. Can you imagine George W. punching John Kerry's ticket in the voting booth? Yeah, me too.

Revival

Finished reading Reviving Ophelia. All I have to say is, we are so homeschooling next year. Even if Gracie gets into the gifted program. Even if Sarabelle takes self-defense lessons.

My only problem is keeping Elle in her wonderful little school. Since we are not residents of that particular island and I would no longer be employed on the island, she would not qualify to attend. Unless the other potential homeschooling, island-residing mom "hires" me to tutor her son...

My favorite advice in the book for our toxic culture is that girls must be raised to understand they are the subjects of their own lives and not the objects of someone else's. Amen.

On the first day of Christmas...

Christmas is coming! Oh. You knew that already. Well, I just figured it out and so in the true spirit of giving, or at least in the spirit of non-consumerism at this late date, I am scouring my surroundings for gifts that cost nothing. The six boxes of custom note cards given to my boss in exchange for his financial support of a local organization's fundraising efforts that have been sitting forgotten on his desk for over two years? (The boss is out of town for the next week bass fishing on the Amazon. My mission is to organize his pack-ratty corner of the office while he is gone and can offer no protest. Out of sight, out of mind.) There's six gifts checked off my list! I'm not a scrooge, I'm a recycler. Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Don't get me wrong, I love to give presents, especially the out-of-the-blue sort. It's the burden of the annual required gift giving for the ever expanding, already enormous extended family that wears me down. Especially considering I don't even know what to give my own darlings yet this year.

Fortunately for this re-gifter, I was lucky enough, embarrassingly lucky, to have won seven fabulous gifts in a raffle at the big fundraiser a couple weeks ago benefiting the kids' school. Already I have given Elle's teacher and his wife, Gracie's teacher, one of two private, charter fishing trips -- the other is Jorge's Christmas present, shhh! -- and I can't wait to give the teachers' assistant the little designer handbag I know she was desperately hoping to win. With the remaining gift certificates from generous local merchants, I hope to get the rest of the gifts on my list.

'Tis better to give than receive? True. There are however, some major exceptions.

For the last year, Sarabelle has shown renewed interest in playing the piano, and so Jorge, doting Papa that he is, has been looking for a deal. The pianos that we gave his sister to store after we moved from the east coast, a diminutive honky tonk piano we found at an antique show for Sarabelle to bang on as a toddler, and a nice upright Baldwin she helped us locate when Sarabelle showed real promise and needed a full keyboard to practice on, were given to needy students and are long gone. Jorge finally enlisted her help again in his search for another quality used instrument. Aunt J agreed to keep her eyes open. The next day she called with a bomb burst of a surprise. For the past year, as it sat unused in her home, she had been considering selling her concert Steinway, a gorgeous upright, bought new for her when she was a protege of the same legendary teacher Sarabelle studied under. Instead, she decided that Sarabelle should have it. We can never thank her enough.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

Happy Birthday to Me

I have been hunting the elusive white pelicans for the past four years in hopes of producing one, or maybe if I was really lucky, two images that could be printed in black and white and then handcolored. Several professional photographers have chartered boats and even gone to such extremes as kayaking up to them under white sheets in imitation of their plumage just to get near them. Today the normally super skittish snow birds came practically gift wrapped for me.

Here is just one of the thirty or so raw images I snapped late this afternoon while my kids sat quietly, totally humoring their obsessed mother.