December Snow Days

I thought, since my sinuses were much less painful, and my ears might actually be normal again, that after a night's sleep, I would wake up today very much on the road to recovery. Instead, I was feverish last night, and don't really know how I am today, but it sure doesn't feel better. Especially not in the throat area.

I'm still a slacker with the Christmas greetings. If your last name ends with the letter G or anything past it alphabetically, I haven't got to you yet. If it starts with A-F and you haven't heard from me, that means I don't have your correct address. Here is a complication: I found a box of real cards. Should I still continue with the home-made ones?

Today is the second of two snow days in a row. Well, this being Missouri, they are actually ice days. You can skateboard on my driveway without a skateboard. Well, as long as you are wanting to go down hill.

Wow. My throat is ballooning again. It makes me dizzy.

Here's something I've been thinking about: When was the last time you heard of someone having a still birth? Two of my friends were put through this misery, and both this week. My heart bleeds for them! And here comes the problem: What is the correct thing to do when informed of a couple's infant child not surviving past delivery?

In times past, if a friend failed to write a letter of condolence when you experienced a loss in the family, that person was dropped from your acquaintance. It was just the custom; when someone you knew lost a family member, you wrote a letter. You knew what to do. It was kind, but it was also expected. But America is not like that. We've abandoned a lot of customs that were in place to insure the relative comfort of all in sticky situations. Now I find myself in a situation where I am supposed to consider the delicate feelings of grieving parents, which includes not being able to politely bring up the subject to find out what would be most appreciated, just in case what would be appreciated is not re-opening the wound by bringing up the subject. I am left, in one case, to the practice of asking my mom to ask her best friend what she thinks her daughter would like done or not done in the situation, and then waiting to hear back from her. The whole thing is uncomfortable and awkward in addition to being painfully sad.

Americans are experts at making easily navigable situations into awkward ones. How about this one: A gentleman walks through the door. There is someone behind him, and he pauses to hold the door. Then, he sees that the person is female. Now he has a small stroke as he mentally runs around like a chicken with his head cut off out of terrible fear that the woman, whom he was merely trying to consider, will be offended that he held the door for her. "Why couldn't it have been a 95 year old man with his arms full of shopping bags?" Men don't seem offended when I hold the door for them, if they are immediately behind me as I go through it. Why is the reverse true? (Not that I personally have ever been offended when someone was trying to do me a no-strings-attached kindness.) It would seem that customs of all sorts are considered Politically Incorrect these days. It saddens me. Most of them are designed to avoid offence, not create it. A little bit of tolerance is required by the recipients of these politenesses for them to function as intended. People around here just want to be offended. So they are.

Today is Josh's first day on his new shift.

Nearly done with the photo DVD. I printed out a sample and found a few mistakes. I think they've been corrected, but I haven't done another sample yet.

It looks like more bad weather is scheduled for Monday. Very depressing. This week has been a little depressing. Illness...inclement weather...death....

At least there's no shortage of chicken soup, here.

I wasn't feeling too great, but I was going to go to taiko anyway last night, until Josh fell down going to warm the car up. Then I was informed that it wasn't safe enough and to stay home. I almost argued, but it was good advice, so I didn't. Besides, I was to tired and sick to argue....much.

It's been really, REALLY hard being home with the kids yesterday and today. I can't count how many times I've said, "Don't pick your nose. Get a Kleenex," or, "Don't grab. Ask nicely," or, "We don't talk like that. If you can't say it nicely, don't say it," or, "No climbing. You're too big for that," or, "Leave the dog alone," or, "What did I just tell you?!?!!" All my friends are telling me to get rest. HA!

Oh. I didn't have the chance to tell you. Monday night I was at dance with Abbie, and while I was sitting with a book out in the parents' waiting room, one of the other girls' grandmother struck up a conversation with me. While we were talking, she actually told me that I should read books for a living! She said that once I was reading a book to "some little boys" (that would be Grant and Keegan) and it was so interesting that even though she was in another room, the grandmother stopped what she was doing to listen. Is it a sign? My secret ambition is to read books on tape, you know. (Although, obviously, not a very well kept one.) If you have any sort of clue how one embarks on this sort of career, please let me know. So far, my best idea is to attempt to get the local radio station to allow me to read a few commercials for experience. But I still don't have any idea of a next step after that.

Have you seen a movie called Mumford? It's cute. We also saw Public Enemy the other day, but didn't find it enjoyable, really. The acting was incredibly good, of course, and the costumes, scenes and weapons were exactly to period. The plot was...seeming to lead somewhere, but didn't ever make a definite point. It raised a few proposed Meanings, but never actually supported anything. And there was very nearly character development, but then not. There weren't enough face shots in the beginning to even get a good bearing of who was on which team, but otherwise the camera editing was decent. One of my biggest problems was with the Christian Bale character, Agent Purvis. He's very into his work, and very bent on catching the bad guy. When urged, he is completely ruthless and cares nothing for the collateral damage his manhunts cause. In the end, we have no reason to suspect that his heart is changing (or shockingly little), but then in the ending credits we are informed that he resigned a year later and eventually "took his own life" to quote Andrew's favorite suicide phraseology. I'm all for characters surprising you, but during the movie, please, not after. Grr. We also saw Plunket and Macleane. It was actually pretty good, too. Squalid, vulgar, gruesome at times, and the characters can miraculously shoot accurately with pistols that were not accurate themselves, but otherwise a decent film, and even grimly funny.

Well, as much as I would like to say more, I'm starting to feel pretty un-well. But I do hope that all is well where you are, and that you are happy and healthy. If you have some tender thoughts to spare for my friends who lost babies, I would be grateful. I think of them often, with a heavy heart. I would so like to send flowers. Then again....

Oh, and it's the weekend for some. Have a good weekend!