The one that got away

Years ago, I pulled into a parking space at my local megamart one afternoon. I got lucky. Not only did I find a close spot, but I was able to pull through to the spot in front of it so I wouldn't have to back out when I left.

Across the row, a young mother was unloading groceries into the back of her car. Her toddler, maybe 18 months or two years, was sitting peacefully in the cart seat, an unusual thing for a child his age. A "Happy Birthday" balloon was tied to the cart handle. It looked like the mom was anticipating a celebration.

As she busied herself with the groceries, the balloon came loose. It soared quickly into the air, or I might have tried to jump out and catch it, but that was impossible, so I just watched. Without a noise, the toddler solemnly lifted his head and tracked the balloon with his eyes until it was just a tiny spot in the sky.

Eventually, the mother turned her attention to taking the child from the cart. As she did, she realized the balloon was missing. She quickly looked around. Perhaps she thought some selfish human had grabbed it, or maybe she hoped it had come loose, but then become snagged somewhere where she could easily retrieve it. Realizing that wasn't the case, she looked at the baby. He casually glanced back up at the sky.

Following his eyes, the mother looked up as well. By then, the balloon was nearly invisible, blending into the atmosphere, but just present enough for her to spot it. She looked back down at the little boy, rolled her eyes, and shook her head, then got him settled into his car seat and drove away.

I've always wondered what was running through the child's mind as he watched the balloon escape. Was he concerned? I doubt it. He wasn't old enough to realize the importance of keeping it safely tethered to some chair at a birthday party to honor its recipient. I figured he had experienced some other thought or feeling—that of wonder or amazement as this living object (in his eyes) was able to free itself of the cart and soar high into the sky, off to epic adventures in another galaxy.

My only regret that day was one I often have—I didn't have a camera to catch the scene in pictures as it unfolded. As someone said, often "a picture is worth a thousand words." It would have been a fun series of photos, and surely a more vivid way to tell the story of this freed balloon.

It was the one that got away.

One hand in our pocket...And the other one is giving the peace sign

Yesterday, I went on a bus tour of some areas of South Dallas that are struggling for survival. A few folks are putting lots of time and what money they can into revitalization efforts.

You know those areas are there...perhaps they don't look as bad as the pictures of slums in New York City or Los Angeles, but they are still slums. They just have more grass because of all the empty lots and the few proud homeowners who are trying to make a difference.

It was a kind of bizarre experience riding around in an air-conditioned bus. It felt rather like watching a movie. Normally, I'd be in a car and feeling nervous for my safety at points. But, when you're riding in large machinery and the tour guide is a respected pastor in the community who gets waves from the residents as you drive by, it's different.

I also heared on the radio today that only 1 in 6, or 16% of Louisiana kids evacuated to Texas passed the Texas TAKS test.

This all makes me sad. We are so blessed and so not blessed all at the same time here in our United States. I wish I'd had a camera and could have taken a few pictures yesterday.

For instance, of the beautiful little three-year-old boy sitting at the end of his sidewalk in the housing project in his red Little Tykes car, watching us go by...Behind two layers of locked fencing to keep him a little safer from the world around him. He looked stoic, and not unhappy.

The corner grocery store, where kids and adults alike congregated out front in large clusters...the same store where they sell diapers and cigarettes "by the each," or "brown bags" if you don't look like a cop. (Kits for smoking crack, in case you didn't know. I didn't.)

The $27 a day "American Inn," where I could only imagine what goes on behind the closed doors, but they do have "colour t.v.," even in America.

The public high school tennis court, where the white trimming along the top of the net has somehow come undone and droops somewhere near the bottom instead, along with lots of leaves and dirt and months or years of other accumulation. Who has time for tennis when you're fighting for your life many days?

The narrow streets where every other house is boarded up, a few are painstakingly maintained, and the rest have junk spilling out onto the sidewalks from the broken porches and windows.

The beautifully-kept historical Jewish cemetery, where there, at least, it looks like people either respect the grounds, or someone does a lot of cleaning up on a regular basis.

The scrap metal shop open 24 hours a day; the other one that opens at 11 p.m., where money can be had for church air conditioners and the police don't respond to the call until four days later.

The True Lee Missionary Baptist Church, where a congregation and pastor, and his father before him, have struggled for something like 60 or 70 years to exert a positive influence on a community that is vastly covered with concrete parking lots created by "eminent domain" for the State Fair 20 years ago. The pastor is dressed in a suit and tie on a Wednesday evening, and directs the bus driver to stop while he goes to the door to pick up his wife, in a black Sunday dress, after he takes the time to direct our casually and expensively dressed group around his neighborhood.

Truly a humbling experience, and although I went to high school in a similar neighborhood in Denver, it has been a long time since I had a reminder of what is tucked away in our country. We are definitely a nation of disparities.

What can I do? I'll have to think about that.


(FYI...Title of post borrowed from Alanis Morissette, "Hand in my pocket." Wish I could say it was my idea, but it's not :-) I just thought the whole song lyric fits well with this subject, from my POV.)

On time Mother's Day gifts

Well, Emilie's would actually qualify as early. It was earlier than I wanted to wake up, anyway. :)

She and her best friend worked really hard all weekend making me and her friend's mom unique gifts. They got Elena's dad to take them grocery shopping Friday night (and I didn't even question why Emilie wanted to go grocery shopping with her friend's family--you know how pre-teen girls are--they just want to be together!). They bought all the ingredients for and spent that night and a few more hours Saturday cooking and creating. We got baskets with all kinds of chocolate goodies, and a little homemade recipe book with all the items' recipes. It was so cute! There was even chocolate sushi. I must say that was interesting...I didn't eat it all. Rice apple juice, chocolate and some other stuff. The word sushi just make me a little nervous, and it had all kind of liquified. Chocolate chip muffins and scones...yum!

So, Emilie couldn't stand it any more and woke me up about an hour before I really needed to get up to bring it to me in bed. Awwww :)

Ryan's gift was actually kind of early and on time as well. Last night he performed at a local coffeehouse for several hours. I got there late with a few people we had over to the house for the Mavs playoff game and hamburgers. He had already played one of my favorite cover songs (Kathleen by Josh Ritter), but with lots of yelling from me and the audience, he was convinced to play and sing it again just for ME! It was cute. He said "Julie" instead of "Kathleen" in a spot or two and the teenage girls just beamed. That was very strategic. Many brownie points with the ladies for that one, I'm sure. Hehe. He also gave me a card and chocolate today.

Kristen painted me a beautiful picture of flowers and waited all weekend for Tood (as she spells it on occasion) to take her to Hobby Lobby to get the perfect card she had seen the weekend before while with a friend. Unfortunately, it was gone, but she found me a cute one anyway.

This morning (well yesterday by now) at church, I also got a special rose and babies' breath from my little foster daughter from last year. She is a cutie and always comes to me for a hug and a chat each Sunday. She is a reader and today we talked about books and how she likes the Boxcar Children books that I also liked when I was a little girl. I need to pick out some special books for her for a late birthday present.

I got a nice long nap this afternoon before freaking out watching Grey's Anatomy and working for 4 hours!

Early Mother's Day gifts

My 8-year-old brought me some early Mother's Day gifts home from school today. Those are the kinds of things you always look forward to and hate to ever throw away. Hers are a special joy--we never quite know what to expect.

Today, I received an acronym of sorts (don't think that's the right word, but you know...) of the word "Mother." You know, the thing where you list all kinds of words that start with the letters that represent what the whole word means to you.

So, I was reading along...
Memories...Mine...Magical...
Hmm, this is all sounding pretty good.
Magnificent...MAXIMUM CONTROL??

I had to stop reading, choke, and then quiz K on this. She explained that they were all just throwing out words in class that could go there and she was just writing them down. Okay, I felt a little better.

So, the next item...a fill in the blank sheet decorated rather nicely, "These are the Top 10 Reasons Why I Love You."

I love my mom because she reads me books. (Awww! I do???)
I love my mom because she helps me do my homework. (Well, on occasion. I'm terrible at it. Very impatient.)
I love my mom when she makes me laugh by telling jokes. (She's got me mixed up with Emilie, but okay, I'll take that.)
I love my mom because she taught me how to spell.

HUH????

Those of you who know and love me and my girl are rolling on the floor laughing now.
For those of you who don't, let's just say that I'm a great speller and a terrible teacher.
:)

Chillin'

Just sitting here at the kitchen table, at the end of a long afternoon of work, listening to my son play a song for me. He doesn't exactly say, "Let me play a song for you." He just comes to wherever I am (and I mean wherever...thank goodness for bathroom doors) and starts playing.

I usually just let him play and sometimes we interact and I give him some advice (they are usually songs he's in the process of writing). I am always flattered the next time he shows up with the same song and has taken some of my advice. :) I tell him I expect part of the royalties one day.

I always feel guilty when I am in the middle of something where I can't give him much attention, and sometimes even have to gripe at him when I'm doing something as heinous as trying to carry on a phone conversation when he appears. ;)

It's not one of those moments. Nice song...and he did take some of my suggestions! If we can get my input jack fixed on my computer, he'll be able to record some of these new songs and post them on his myspace site.

Just eating my salad

My mom and I have started an informal tradition since I started working from home, moreso in the last few months--Salad Day. She runs by Jack-in-the-Box on her way home from her volunteer work, usually on Tuesdays, but this week today, and picks up salads for our lunches.

She is far more salad adventurous than I and gets different kinds, sometimes even insisting on going to different fast-food joints...bleh!!! They're not the same. I want my Jack-in-the-Box Southwest Chicken Salad. It has this yummy grilled corn among other things. The little cheese stick things that come with it are way too spicy (and I love spicy stuff) and I substitute a 100 calorie pack of Cheese Nips. One salad is probably enough to feed two or three people, but I manage. It's my weekly somewhat healthy/somewhat bad lunch treat.

I have noticed something kind of funny about this tradition, though. You know how when you're eating a salad you sometimes get to the bottom of the bowl and it's all lettuce and no goodies? Dressing, corn, cheese, etc.--the stuff that makes it really not so good for you? Well, I am obsessed with making sure my salad is even. I have found myself arranging it in different ways every week, trying to make it come out right.

It comes with all the toppings arranged around the top of the salad in their own little piles. I wish they would just go ahead and mix them up and then dump them, but I can see the value in it--I always take the purple onions off and maybe other people don't like grilled corn, or black beans, or whaever. (Hungry yet?)

One week, I dumped the whole thing in a bigger bowl and mixed it all up. (And yes, it did almost entirely fill a large mixing bowl. That was a mistake.) Most weeks, I literally pick up little piles of the toppings and drop them around evenly, but it's really difficult when they're in piles to begin with. It never comes out exactly right. Some weeks I'll use most of the dressing packet right away and mix it up with a fork really well. Others I'll put a little dressing at a time, rationing it as I go.

I kind of did that today, only I tried something else new. Instead of eating bites randomly here and there from the salad, I started in one spot and worked my way around until I was finished. That worked pretty well. I was able to control the amount of topping that ended up in each portion better, and my last bites had a little bit of all the goodies.

As I was eating, I thought, you know, THIS IS REALLY WEIRD!!!! There is definitely something obsessive/compulsive going on here. As one of our friends used to tell my mom, my O/C was showing. I am NOT usually a really organized person. This is strange considering I have a library science degree, I realize, but...

I have problems with piles appearing here and there in the house, and they tend to drive Todd pretty nuts. What is it about this salad? Is there a control issue going on here?

Or ... am I just eating my salad?

Poor neglected julielayne

I've been away on vacation for several days, and now I am up against a large, looming deadline for work. I most likely won't be posting much for the next week or two. That makes me sad. I have lots to say, but not much time to say it!

:(