TravelinOma

Travel Studies Seminar: Quiz Time

2009-11-10T00:30:00.002-07:00

Final Exam!

1. What is your traveling style?

~ Going on a super luxury cruise, relaxing and eating well for a week.
~ Going with friends on a history bus tour with a guide.
~ Going on a wildlife safari or a mountaineering expedition.

2. How many clothes do you usually take along on a holiday?
~ At least 2 new sets of clothes for every day of the vacation.
~ One set per day is usually enough.
~ I can easily manage in 3-4 sets, no matter how long the vacation.

3. How many pieces of luggage did you carry on the last vacation?
~ Including the sleeping bags and the tent?
~ Two suitcases, carry-on, shopping bag, purse, tote, diaper bag, laptop, pillow, coat.
~ A backpack, that's all.

4. Given the following choices, where would you prefer traveling to?
~ Alaska or Tahiti
~ India Or China
~ Kenya Or Greenland

5. What is your preference regarding hotels, while on vacation?
~ A luxurious five star, with a room service 24 hours duty.
~ A medium priced hotel, with just the necessities.
~ A Tent rules.

6. What are your food preferences on a holiday?
~ A six course meal at the best restaurant in town.
~ A decent meal at a good place for $12.
~ Whatever you can carry in your cooler.

7. How do you travel while on a holiday?
~ A rented car.
~ Public transport.
~ By foot, wherever possible.

8. What's your dream vacation?
~ Biking down the California coast.
~ Eurailing around Europe for three months.
~ Two weeks at a beach resort.

9. You and your friends are hiking. You
~ Take the most difficult route; it's no fun otherwise.
~ Take the route everyone else takes.
~ You take the simplest route, after all reaching the destination is important.

10. While on a beach
~ You prefer to go surfing or scuba-diving.
~ You are content with swimming in water.
~ You would rather stay on the beach and build sand castles.

11. In an amusement park, you will be seen
~ On the new gigantic roller-coaster.
~ Taking the scenic train ride.
~ Watching the kids while reading a book.

12. Someone says they're taking you bungee jumping.
~ You are totally game for it. Wow!
~ You express your doubts, but are persuaded.
~ You throw up.

13. When you are on a camping trip
~ You cook and eat whatever you can catch.
~ You bring fried chicken for dinner, and muffins for breakfast.
~ You hire a dutch oven chef.

14. You're planning a long road trip with the kids. You
~ Buy a new car with a built in DVD player.
~ Take plenty of benedryl.
~ Buy several copies of Harry Potter, and read it out loud together.

15. You're in Washington DC for a long weekend. You can't wait to
~ Visit all the Smithsonian museums.
~ Take a city tour to see the Lincoln Memorial and other monuments.
~ Sleep in every morning, take in a movie, and see a live ballet that night.

Timed test: You have 15 minutes to plan a trip. Use Expedia, Travelocity, or any other resource to find a flight/driving route, plus a hotel/place to stay in a city of your choice. Is it do-able? Pack your bags!

*School Days Final Exams are every day this week. I'll be out of town, unable to check your work until the weekend. Please leave a link to your exams in my teacher's box, because I love reading what you write! (Class reviews next week.)

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Write Away Seminar: Quiz Time

2009-11-09T00:30:00.004-07:00

It's Finals Week!

For today's exam, get out your notebook and answer each question honestly in a complete sentence. Use one of the choices given, or write your own.

1. The power in your house goes out, and you are stuck with candles and nothing to do but think. How long could you entertain yourself just sitting?

~Ten seconds. I'd get out my cell phone and call a friend.

~Ten minutes. Then I'd fall asleep.

~Hours. I'd reconstruct my last conversation; think through a presentation I might give someday; imagine my life in ten years; remember my high school gym class.

2. You're writing and the phone rings. You:

~Answer it.

~Finish your sentence, then answer it.

~Let the answering machine get it.

3. The person calling is one of your dearest friends, who wants to get together for brunch and a good long chat about her ex. Unfortunately, this juicy brunch will take place during your scheduled writing time. You:

~Decide to go. You haven't heard the latest dirt on her evil ex in ages.

~Say you can't go, but sit on the phone dishing for another hour.

~Reschedule for a non-writing day.

4. You're at the restaurant with your friend when you have a fantastic idea for a novel. You:

~Hope you'll remember it—you have nothing to write with and nothing to write on.

~ Will manage. You use the waiter's pen and the back of your receipt.

~ Carry a special notebook, an organizer, or even a laptop with you everywhere—you're completely prepared.

5. You imagine yourself as a successful writer. What is the image that is clearest in your mind?

~The rounds of publishers' parties, autographings, and talk shows where you are lionized for your work of immortal literary genius?

~Your name on the spines of a shelf full of beautiful books?

~Your backside glued to the chair, your cramped fingers on the keyboard, and your blurred eyes on the monitor.

5. If money was no issue, what would you do with your spare time?

~Shop til you drop;

~Prepare for a maraton;

~Sit alone in a room full of books and type.

6. Do you have . . .

~An idea for the Great American Novel -- a certain best-seller,

~A few ideas for different stories,

~Background and development for a number of related books, a time-line, and a whole bunch of files.

7. You figure the biggest benefit of becoming a writer is:

~Money and fame;

~Flexible hours and being your own boss;

~The writing.

8. You read:

~The occasional newspaper, magazines at the hair salon, and headlines in the grocery store check-out line.

~In your free time if you don't have something better to do.

~You invented the term multi-tasking because reading IS your "something better to do". You usually have a book in hand no matter what else you're doing at the time.

9. You have some strong opinions about a political issue. You

~Yell at the car radio.

~Debate it with your bookclub.

~You write a letter to the editor.

10. You realize you have an experience that would benefit others. You

~Call around, and let people know you're anxious to talk with them;

~Ask if you could speak about your topic at a luncheon;

~Write an article and submit it for publication.

***********************

Writer Holly Lisle commented on some of the questions:

"That empty room with nothing going on was not a hypothetical situation. That's the writer's work day. You, a quiet room, and nothing happening except for what's going on between your ears. This is pretty much a make-or-break question: if you can't entertain yourself for at least a few hours a day with no source of entertainment but your thoughts, you're not going to have much fun writing for a living.

"Most of us live in a world where someone we love might, at some point, need us. So we don't have the option of seclusion. The self-control in screening out all but emergency calls with an answering machine becomes a real-world, practical answer to scheduling writing time. As a writer, writing needs to hold an important place in your life, but if you plan on having a life, it can't hold the number one spot.

"I always (yes, always) have my laptop with me. I could actually write a book on the spot, were I so inclined. You need to keep some tools with you all the time. Laptop, tape recorder, or just a little notepad and a pen—you need to have something to record great lines, bits of dialogue, or character or story ideas while you're out. You can't count on everyone to have napkins you can borrow.

"I have bad news. No one is going to hold a ticker tape parade in your honor because you wrote a book, or even a bunch of books. Aside from your spouse, your parents, and your eventual readers, no one cares that you're a writer. You won't be recognized in restaurants and hounded for your autograph. You won't even be recognized in bookstores unless you introduce yourself. And maybe not even then.

"The name-on-the-books thing is big. But you're looking for happiness a long way from its source. In almost all cases, it takes a minimum of about two years from the time you start writing a book until the time it sees print. That's best case, when you have a contract for the book. If you have to write the book and then sell it, you could be in for a very long haul.

"If you're very prolific, you could complete two or three first-drafts in a year. I usually do one, and I write for a living. I have friends and colleagues who do one book every three years or less. That's a long time to wait for the thrill.

"You have to be happy enough with what you're doing, to do it long enough to succeed. To be a career writer, you really ought to like to write. You ought to have fun sitting in your little corner of the kitchen or your office, if you're lucky enough to have one, coming up with neat stuff to do to your characters. If you can learn to get your joy from that, you can be happy nearly every day.

"An idea for one book is a good start, but except in the rarest of cases, one book does not make a career. If you are already giving some thought to what you're going to do for an encore, and for the encore after that, you're thinking like a pro.

"If you think the main benefit of being a writer is money and fame, think again. Most first books sell for around $5000 to $7500 dollars (and this is for something that may have taken years to write.) Most books disappear from shelves in weeks, never to be seen again, and most readers cannot tell you the names of the authors of most of the books they liked, much less recognize those authors by sight. Your chance at finding great wealth or public adulation in this business is vanishingly small.

"As for flexible hours . . . yes, they are flexible. When I was getting started as a pro, they flexed from the minute the kids left for school in the morning until they got home in the afternoon, and then from 9 p.m., after they went to bed, until I couldn't force my eyes open any longer, every day off. Since I worked 12-hour weekend nursing shifts, and had older children, I at least had long blocks of time to write. Before the kids started school, it was a lot harder to find time.

"As for taking days off —you can take off any day you want. You just don't get paid. I've had one long vacation since 1991, when I sold my first book. I don't work 10-hour days anymore, which is nice. I do work seven days a week most weeks. And I never have enough time to do everything I want. Rule of thumb for the self-employed: it's actually illegal for anyone to ask you to work as long or as hard as you'll be working for yourself.

"If your reward is the writing, though, even the long hours, the poor or nonexistent pay, and the anonymity will be no big deal.

"Writing in odd moments and in unlikely places serves as a clear sign of how deeply the writing bug has bitten you. Case in point—I'm writing this right now on the back-lit screen of my laptop, sitting on the floor in the middle of a neighborhood blackout, hanging out with my family. The presence of that unstoppable—sometime unbearable—urge to put words on a page is a good sign that you have a chance of outlasting the early-career hard times. If you can stay writing long enough to learn your craft, and still be hungry for the next word after years of next words, you're a writer." Adapted from an article by Holly Lisle.

************************

Essay Question: Using the sentences you compiled as answers, think about your desire to be a writer. Do you have romanticized ideas of what being a writer is like? Do you want to write for yourself, or to be read by others? Is your goal to be a writer, or an author, and what's the difference? How will writing fit into the responsibilities of your life right now? What have you learned about yourself as a writer?

~Write an essay called "Am I Right for Writing?"

Write Away!

*School Days Final Exams are every day this week. I'll be out of town, unable to check your work until the weekend. Please leave a link to your exams in my teacher's box, because I love reading what you write! (Class reviews next week.)

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

School of Thought Seminar: Breakdown!

2009-11-06T08:20:00.000-07:00

Art by W. S. Hutton

There was a big jolt, and then it got bumpy. I sensed it coming, but I was going too fast and it seemed impossible to slow down. As the air escaped from my tires, I veered out of control. Everything went flat. I was having a breakdown.

It all started in June, 1981. We were excited, expecting our 7th baby, but we didn't know where we'd put her. Our house was overflowing with kids and shoes and outgrown coats: we decided to remodel the basement. The contractor said it would take two months. Perfect. The kids could all live in the family room while the bedrooms were reconfigured into two big dorms.

Too much togetherness.

Four months later Marta was born. The painter was the one who took the call announcing her birth. Workmen had taken up permanent residence in our home—it was a nightmare. One thing had led to another and construction was taking place all over the house. What were we thinking?

One day, when the baby was less than a week old, I put her in an infant seat on the dining-room table, out of danger. Her sneezing siblings were smearing chocolate on the drapes, while I talked to the pediatrician on the phone. A lamp tipped over just as the doorbell rang. "We're here to see the baby" called my friend, herding her three kids around ladders and through stacks of lumber.

In the garage a saw whined. The carpenter had just removed some wooden slats that held the cathedral windows in place when suddenly a gust of wind blew the plate glass in. It shattered all over the room.

Our house back then.

Marta and the other kids were luckily protected from the tiny shards, but I was hit—not by glass, but by the enormity of my situation. These kids were out of control. I had way too many of them, and they were all living in the family room out of boxes, and there were strange men using my bathroom, watching me and my house fall apart.

A week later I was feeding the baby when the phone rang. Walking backwards to answer it, (so I wouldn't expose my bare boob to Ron, the carpenter in the hall) I clipped the end table. My knee went out from under me, and I fell down, throwing Marta in the air. She landed on the hard kitchen tile, and I landed in a twisted heap. Ron dashed in to rescue both of us. Again, the baby was fine, but I wasn't. After a few hours in the emergency room, I came home with a leg brace, crutches, and torn ligaments in my knee.

Fast forward another two weeks. Neighbors helped with my preschoolers; Marta spent her life on my bed, surrounded by diapers, because I couldn't carry her and walk on my crutches at the same time. Saturday morning Dee had a leg-ache and took a couple of aspirin. Within minutes he was turning blue, unable to breathe. When the paramedics arrived, they gave him a shot of epinephrine, and rushed him to the hospital. In the ambulance he went into respiratory arrest, and heard them yell "We're losing him! We're losing him."

When I got to the hospital, and asked how he was, the frazzled doctor said, "He damn near died!" So, now I was a single mom of seven under eleven, on crutches, trekking to visit my critically ill husband in the ICU every day for two weeks. He recovered, but the stress was taking a toll on me.

Back to normal.

Six months passed, the workmen were gone, the kids were installed in their cool new rooms, my crutches were stashed in the garage, and Dee was back in the pink. However, I was heading into the blues. Life was getting darker and darker, although nobody else seemed to notice.

I was all sunshine outside my house, but my own little world was dismal. I had periodic dizzy spells, double vision and random aches and pains; I was certain I had a fatal disease. I blew up at the slightest thing, and had tantrums right along with my kids. I used to call Dee and have him come home in the middle of the day, because of my frantic state of mind. I imagined all sorts of terrible things happening to me or my kids—I was full of fear, doubt and worry.

The hardest part was that I couldn't let anyone in my humiliating secret. I was breaking down, but I had to keep up my image.

On a Merry-Go-Round

The doctor couldn't find anything wrong with me and suggested anxiety or depression. I would not accept that as my diagnosis. I wasn't the depressed type—it sounded so depressing.

One day I was moping on the couch while my kids stared at the TV. I had been praying about my bleak situation when the thought came to call Shawna—a neighbor I did not know well. When she answered, I started sobbing uncontrollably, and told her how helpless and hopeless I felt. She sounded caring and calm as she assured me, "We'll get through this together. It will be all right." She said she knew what I was going through, because she'd felt this way herself. When I finally settled down, she said, "Now, Dear, first tell me: who is this?"

Shawna steered me towards a doctor who shared tools to help me with my breakdown. Depression is a chemical imbalance, and anti-depressants balance the brain's chemicals so it can function normally. He explained that for me to go without them would be as foolish as a diabetic going without insulin.

Stress, hormones, illness or trauma can trigger a bout of depression. Sometimes it goes away completely on it's own, other times it goes away but recurs. In my case, it is chronic, so I'll take anti-depressants the rest of my life. A friend referred to them as "happy pills," but that's not right. The medication doesn't make you happy—it makes you normal. Then you can make yourself happy.

Out on a limb

Life is full of crashes and surprise breakdowns. I can be philosophical about them when they're happening to somebody else.

Mrs. Organic wrote a post on her three weeks of solitary confinement:
"I was placed in a corner room on the top floor with the rooms next to me left vacant since radio waves are no respecter of walls (I always wondered about the poor soul in the room beneath me). A line was taped off around the door that I was not allowed to pass, a box of disposable blue booties and a chair sat waiting for any visitors, nurses, or doctors. No one was allowed to be in my presence for more than a total of 20 minutes per day. It was rather lonely." (Click on her name for the rest.)

Diane is one of my heroes. Her story begins with, "One misstep changed my life." Click on her name for her courageous tale (start with the bottom post and work up.) Diane is the example of how to deal with an unexpected breakdown.

"Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear,

for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you . . ."
—Doctrine & Covenants 68:6

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~If you've had the blues for more than two weeks, talk to someone about it. Don't suffer in silence. If you've been in a funk for more than a couple of months, go to a doctor.

~Write about a person who saved the day for you.

~Do you have a friend who needs your brand of sparkle? Think and pray about who you should call. Then make her laugh.

*Get out your blue books. Final exams are next week!

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Family Matters Seminar: Baby Shower

2009-11-05T00:34:00.012-07:00

What: A Baby Shower of Advice
When: Right Now
Who: Everybody
Where: In the Comments Section
Why: Because we're all full of wisdom!

Aren't you dying to give some advice??

Sit over here and have some lemonade while we visit.

Heidi made the cheesecake,
with hot fudge and raspberries!

Think about what you'll say...it's my turn first.

Remember that YOU are the expert on your own baby.
You will learn together how to nurse. He's new at it, too.
Don't worry when he cries.
Don't worry when he sleeps.
He won't starve to death if he only gets a drop or two before falling asleep again.
Everything will eventually fall into place, but give yourself six weeks.
Decide that you're on an adventure in a different time zone. Sleep whenever he's asleep. He'll figure it out, and you'll return to normal in a few weeks.
If you feel like crying, just let yourself go. You'll feel relieved and relaxed (after your headache and puffy eyes go away.)
He brought his personality with him--it's eternal. You're not going to ruin him by your inexperience or little mistakes. He came to teach you the real facts of life!
In today's world the greatest blessing a little child can have is parents who love each other.

Now, share your insight!

What have you learned or observed about new babies and new moms?

Melissa:
"Invest in a great crock-pot and recipes. It saves a lot of stress at dinner-time when babies are cranky to have dinner already done!"


Cath:
" Recognize the post partum blues and forgive yourself the mommy moments. When you're sleep-deprived and your body is surging with hormones, it can be a confusing time, but you will get back to normal--in about eighteen years."

Christie:
"Trust your mommy instincts. Don't feel dumb when you rush to the doctor and find out it's nothing. Better to be reassured than worried."

Tiffany:
"Everybody warned me that adjusting to marriage is hard, but it wasn't. So, having a baby will be easy too, I figure. We don't wait very long to get pregnant. I am wrong about this adjustment. We bring Christian home from the hospital and I love him and fear him all at once. I take a drive with Ryan a few days later when my sister offers to babysit. 'I don't want you to think I'm a bad person,' I say, 'but WHAT HAVE WE DONE?' We figure it out together, day by day."

Kay:
"My best advice is to relax -- it's not rocket science and you don't have to be perfect."


Jenibelle:
"Pick your battles, starting when they are really little."

Gabi:
"Parenthood (like pregnancy) will change YOUR life more than your husband's life. Don't expect parenting to be a 50/50 deal."

Sheri:
"Don't compare yourself to other mothers. Don't compare your baby to other babies."

(In case some of you are wondering when you gave this great advice, they were comments on a post I wrote August 18, 2008. I remember everything.)

Crissy has a class presentation on labor. (This is edited. Click on her name for more.)
"Not every birth is the same. You'll likely only hear about the awful ones, because they make better stories. My best advice in that arena is to avoid those stories like the plague, or swine flu. If someone tries to tell you a new one ask them not to, and if they don't listen walk away. Their experience will not be yours.

"Take a birthing class . . . There are a few different classes offered these days, you can pick from Lamaze, the Bradley method or HypnoBirthing. Personally, having tried it, I highly recommend HypnoBirthing. "Be educated, but don't overdo it. You don't need to read every single pregnancy or parenting book or magazine. Find a few that share your hopes and ideas for how you want things to be, and stick with that.

"Make sure your OB or midwife is on board with what you want for the birth. If something your care provider says doesn't sit right with you, don't be afraid to find someone new who will be more accommodating.

"Be happy. Through sickness and overwhelming tiredness, aching joints and growing belly, you are carrying a life inside of you. A precious spirit, a gift from God. If you want it and will it to be good, pregnancy (and birth) can and will be good."

Misty wondered about becoming a mother. (Click on her name for the unedited version.)
"The first time Adam seriously brought up the idea of marriage, I'm sad to say I went a little berserk. I had been at college in Colorado for a semester, and my first summer home, he brings up that m-word. The horrible, stifling, old fashioned m-word. I was livid. I wanted to finish my education. I wanted to finish my softball eligibility. I wanted a career. And I definitely didn't want to be stuck "at home" doting over a husband and who knows how many children; completely forgetting my dreams, my ambitions, and ultimately myself. And I told him so. How could he be so selfish to ask me to give all of that up?

"That was the biggest fight we ever had in our two years of dating. He left, frustrated and a little bewildered, no doubt. I went to bed in a huff, rehashing the conversation and reassuring myself that I was right, and he was dead, dead, wrong. I even thought back to when I first started dating Adam and a guy I had been interested in told me 'if you keep dating that guy, you're going to end up married and pregnant with a bunch of kids and no life of your own.'

"I tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep. And something miraculous happened. I started thinking with my heart instead of my intellect and worldly desires. There were a few very special experiences I had over the next few hours, and by lunch time, I knew that I didn't want anything else but to marry Adam.

"I have never regretted my decision . . . In the last 7 years, I have come to treasure the expectations placed upon me as a woman, a wife, and a mother. I relish the interactions I get to have with my children, and the role I play in teaching and nurturing them. I can truly say I 'find nobility in motherhood . . .'"

Hey, you guys are wise!

Homework:

~Leave some advice for a new mom.

(P.S. Sorry this is late. I guess I forgot to click publish!)

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Book Shelf Seminar: Class Presentations

2009-11-04T00:32:00.002-07:00

Dee in a bookstore in Paris

"When I get a little money I buy books;
and if any is left, I buy food and clothes."
—Erasmus

In heaven I want to work in a bookstore. I won't have to worry about making or losing money, or what will be worthy of the bestseller list. As thousands of books arrive in boxes (unpacked and stacked by angel employees) I'll peruse them all, and supervise their placement on the shelves. I'll be surrounded by people's words and thoughts, and other people who love to read and write. And I'll never run out of time.

My bookstore will have oodles of nooks and crannies, furnished with squishy furniture and lots of pillows, and foot stools for short people. The temperature will be 57 degrees, cool enough for a sweater, and perfect for fires in dozens of different fireplaces blazing in every corner. The scent of mulled cider will warm the rooms, and there will be numerous oak end-tables to hold your mug, and stack of books.

Picture it: ladders with wheels glide around the perimeters, giving access to the highest shelves, and low benches make it comfortable to examine the paper-backs closest to the floor. Dictionary stands display immense art books, and library tables have slanted tops so there's no glare or strain if you want to look at a weighty anthology.

Oh, did I mention the divine donuts? Homemade applesauce donuts. And the best frosted sugar cookies—all free (calorie free, fat-free, guilt-free.) The fudge brownies will bring out the devil in everybody.

Salzburg window display

And there will be a map room with giant tables to spread them out on. Plus, a sound-proof children's room with a loft and kid-size furniture, and endless healthy snacks (while we're munching the good stuff) and quiet, educational (but fascinating) toys.

Art by Judith Dufour Love

An angel will read mesmerizing stories to them so all the adults can browse for hours on end. And nothing will ever get dusty or faded, and the bathrooms will be handy and clean with sweet-smelling soap, and trustworthy attendants to help little kids. And the whole store will have lighting that doesn't buzz, or flicker, and makes me look . . . heavenly.

Bookstore in Krakow, Poland

Our class presentations today are about bookstores. Read the excerpt and then click on the name for more.

Tales of a Hummingbird described a bookstore this way:

that smell. that beautiful, musty, ancient and all-knowing smell of dusty books on shelves. they've been there for ages, all their collective wisdom and inspiration patiently waiting for me. the aging colors of their mix-matched book sleeves, fading a little more as the sun dutifully arcs its way across the shop window day after day, make up the most brilliant display as you stroll through the aisles. wooden shelves, hand crafted a long time ago when they really made things out of real wood and sweat. the wood is a little rough, you can see the grooves and the rings-those shelves alone tell you a story about life.

that perfect bookstore is just like a library, but much cuter and with a really spunky librarian who loves chatting to you about her favorite books. forget that no talking rule, and yes please bring a cup of tea! its homey and comfortable, a few chairs inviting you to get lost in the pages if you dare, if you can make time in your schedule. you should do it. just sit down in the cozy chair over by the window and lose an hour of your day. there's nothing better."

Vienna window display

Sue worked in a bookstore and she wrote this funny story:

"Another day a lady comes in and asks for 'all over sex books.' (This is in no way a weird request. It you've worked in a bookstore, you know.) I proceed to begin showing her our section on sex. (I'll bet most of you did not grow up in a place with your own section on sex. Well not my own, but you know what I mean.)

"I point out to her books like The Joys of Sex and several others. Finally she looks at me with the weirdest expression, and asks, 'What did you think I was asking for?' 'All over sex books,' I say. Then she laughed like I had never heard a laugh before. It took her several moments to calm down enough to tell me, 'I was looking for Oliver Sachs books!'"

"Always read something that will make you look good

if you die in the middle of it."
—PJ O'Rourke

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Rearrange your books so that you'll remember what you have. Then eat a donut.

~Pack up a box of books you don't want anymore and take them to Deseret Industries or another charity. Share the wealth.

~Be an angel and read a story to somebody.

Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Travel Studies Seminar: Class Presentations

2009-11-03T00:03:00.007-07:00

"Most travel is best in the anticipation,
or the remembering;
the reality has more to do with lost luggage."
—Regina Nadelson

In our travels we've visited several faraway emergency rooms. We once had ants in our bed, and another time I had a miscarriage. Dee left his wallet in a food-court; our hip-hop taxi driver and his girlfriend (Foxy) joined our family (uninvited) for a visit to the San Francisco Zoo; we had food poisoning in Amsterdam and spent a cozy night huddled together over an unappealing and ancient toilet . . . these are the realities of travel. They make for good stories, but sometimes other people's stories are better.

Our first class presentation today is from Emilie at Mickelmonkeys about her disastrous honeymoon.

Art by Ronald Anderson

"Unfortunately, we were plagued with several hiccups right from the start. On the day before we flew out to my parents house, we sat down on the grass waiting for a bus and we were bitten by little bugs. Chiggers, mites, who knows? But we were both itchy and miserable and covered in red welts the day before we got married." Click here for the whole funny story.

On Deck

Don't suggest a Caribbean cruise to Alana! She wrote:

"My ideal vacation is simply any vacation not afloat at sea, imprisoned with slobivius americanus. I'm talking to you, Cruise Ship.

"Cruise ships are a virtual petri dish of communicable disease afloat at sea. At sea! Do you know what happens at sea? . . . Hurricanes, walls of water that swallow ships whole, sinking. Sinking! I said sinking! If I managed to return home it could be with hoof and mouth, meningitis, staphylococcus, and most certainly an exacerbated case of claustrophobia. Where do they store the buffet food? How is human waste treated, stored or expelled? Have you asked yourself these questions?

"Possibly, I could make good use of the gambling available while in international waters. Or the 24-hour-bar. And if you watch Primetime Crime, you know you can throw just about anybody overboard and get away with it. (Increase husband's policy—check.) This is as far as my exploding optimism can throw me.

"I don't like to suffer and/or die when I'm on vacation. I go away so I can come back."

Suffering was a big part of our early family vacations. Five days with four sick kids in one crowded California hotel room (two queens, a roll-a-way and a crib,) pouring rain, and a missed flight was pretty miserable. Another good story, but dismal as it happened. Other trips were better.

CMN, you had a comment:

"Here's my tip and it's worked like a charm every time . . .

"Have four basic Vacation Rules:
1 - Stay with the Parent/Adult
2 - Don't Spend a lot of Money
3 - No whining or complaining (Set a key phrase for a child to use instead -- "I need a break" is my favorite. Whenever a child uses the key phrase, be prepared to stop, listen, and outline for them a plan to remedy -- "okay, we're going to finish this activity which will take five minutes and then we're going to go sit under that tree and enjoy a rest." Also agree what the penalties will be for breaking this one...)
4 - Have fun!

"Discussing the rules several times before we leave helps each child get them in mind and plan to follow them. Then once we're traveling, all it takes is a simple reminder -- 'Rule #1!' -- and the kids react.

"Having easy and basic rules is priceless. Especially when the kids remind you of them too . . . 'Rule #2!'"

You guys have the best ideas. And I love your comments on my ideas.

Oma's suitcase

I admit it. I have an obsessive, compulsive disorder when it comes to packing. I wrote,

"I pack kits so I can unpack and pack quickly: Nightstand kit: little flashlight, tissues, lotion, chapstick. Secretary kit: Check register, calculator, pen, envelope for receipts. Recharge kit: camera and phone chargers, extra batteries, memory card. Toiletries, Make-up, the usual."

I got a comment from Wrath of Khandrea that cracked me up:

"i cannot even wrap my mind around this.: and yet . . .

i'm a teeny bit turned on by it all."

Thanks for putting up with my eccentricities! And thanks for all your contributions to our travel studies seminar.

"I haven't been everywhere,
but it's on my list."
—Susan Sonntag

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Turn on the Travel Channel and take a trip for free. (I'd suggest Rick Steves or Samantha Brown.)

~Visit Barnes and Noble. Browse the travel section, and take a few books to the cafe. Order a bagel and a hot chocolate, and daydream.

~Have you ever been sick on a trip? Write a paragraph about it. Prompt: "I thought I was going to die. I was in______"

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Write Away Seminar: Class Presentations

2009-11-01T01:02:00.004-06:00

OK, kids.
When I call on you, just stand up and make your presentation.

One author said, "It's easy being a writer. You just cut open a vein and bleed all over the paper."
That's what it feels like sometimes; but we want to do it, anyway. We wouldn't be participating in this class if we didn't want to write. So why is it so hard to do? Audrey?

Audrey:
"Fear is my main excuse. I am afraid that something that seems really funny or meaningful in my head will sputter and collapse and end up displayed for all to see as the inadequate and incomplete thought that comes out when I write. I will have exposed myself and be left standing while everyone points their fingers and laughs. Or worse, they will walk away bored and confused."

Judy? Your hand is raised:
"You reminded me of a book title that I quote all too often . . . 'Why Am I Afraid to Tell You Who I Am?' The answer is . . . 'Because you may not like me.'"

It's interesting that we all feel that way. When I've written something light and witty I can't wait to get some feedback. I'll call Dee and read it to him over the phone, I'm so pleased with myself. I don't even care if he thinks it's dumb.

On the other hand, when I've poured out my heart on my blog, I often regret it the next day, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. But, ironically, that's the kind of blog I like to read. When I read something sincere, it lets me know a writer is genuine. That's when I'm touched.

Some of the homework assignments these past weeks have been so brave and honest. I've read them with tears in my eyes, touched by the way a writer has opened her heart. I'll entice you with a couple of paragraphs, and you can click on the name for the whole presentation.

Heather wrote:

"I spun in my chair and angled my head to get a look. I had to see what they were all laughing about--why they were all laughing at me. My legs numbed. My stomach iced. I was betrayed. I couldn't understand how an adult could set up a kid for such humiliation. My ears burned, but that paled in comparison to the fire at the corners of my eyes. I searched the room like a hunted animal looking for a place to hide. I was painfully aware of everyone's eyes on me. I wanted to leave. I wanted to run. The tears came, and to my relief, the bell. In that instant I bolted out the door and locked myself in the oatmeal colored bathroom stall. In four minutes I'd have to go back in there. I didn't know what to do.
"I typically did well in school because I worked hard to earn recognition in class. I'd always tried to please my teachers. I had no fear. I'd try anything once, and I wasn't afraid to get up in front of the class or participate. This day changed everything. This was the day where I learned that not all teachers have a student's best interest at heart. Not all teachers are considerate. Not all adults are trustworthy. She hurt me at my core, and that day shaped me for the rest of my schooling."

Mrs Organic wrote this about her experience with panic attacks: "As soon as the sun went down and my children were tucked in bed, I would wait while my gut would tighten, and I'd wonder if that night would bring the dreaded anxiety. Often, my heart would race as if I'd just taken a leap off a cliff and discovered my chute wouldn't open, fairly hammering out of my chest. At the same time it would feel as if all the air had suddenly been sucked from the room leaving a vacuum in my lungs and a heavy pressure on my rib cage. I would tremble violently as fear overtook me. My brain utterly deserted me. I knew that what I was feeling was coming from my own mind but I felt completely powerless to stop it. "I spent many nights sitting on the cool, hard tile of our master bath, my back pressed to the wall, facing the closed door with the light on, and my scriptures open in my lap. I sobbed uncontrollably; I was so very afraid. I don't think Mr. O understood it, but he was very patient and very kind." Isn't this what being a writer is all about? Sharing experiences, and trying to make sense of life? I think it's a way of supporting each other. It's a gift. We have a responsibility to train ourselves and practice our craft, so we can use it in a positive way. Another favorite quote says "I love being a writer. It's the paperwork I can't stand." Yes? Diane? "Over the years I’ve found that I put off doing things I want to do until mundane chores are done, sort of like keeping dessert until last. One thing I’ve found is that if I do the fun things first, the other stuff usually gets done anyway. At least the stuff that really needs to get done. Now I just need to remember all that, and I’ll get more writing, reading, and quilting done. Hope springs eternal!" Thanks for your contributions to class today! Homework: Do any or all or be inspired. ~Your best friend just called and said, through her tears, "I know you've had experience with_____. What did you do?" What would she be calling about? Answer her question in a note. ~Write about a time you made a presentation of some kind. Were you nervous? Excited? Prompt: "After I was introduced, I stood up and said_____" ~Remember someone who poured out their heart to you. How did you feel towards them after hearing their story? Were you sympathetic? Shocked? Disgusted? Understanding? Write away! *If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

School Days: Ghoulies Parade

2009-10-29T01:04:00.004-06:00

The ghouls are all here. Are you ready, my pretty?

Tiffany at The Would-be Writer's Guild

"She just goes a little mad sometimes.
We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?"

—Norman Bates

Yiota at Shells & Bells & Flowers & Showers

"With shaking hands, Johnny fumbled for the knot
and untied the yellow ribbon around his wife's neck.
And Jane's head fell off."

Alana at jnac chronicles

"An' jist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side."

Diane at Joyful Reader

"At first cock-crow the ghosts must go
Back to their quiet graves below."

Audrey at Joseph and Audrey

"Why didn't the skeleton cross the road?
He didn't have the guts."

Polly at Polly's Follies

"She screamed.
Her boyfriend leapt out of the car and caught her in his arms.
'What is it? What's wrong?' he shouted.
Then he saw it.
A bloody hook hung from the handle of the car door."

Crissy at Mama Boss

"Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little girl like you."

Misty (and AJ) at The Rindy Family

"Shadows of a thousand years rise again unseen,
Voices whisper in the trees, 'Tonight is Halloween!'"

Christie at My Favorite Things

"I'll bet living in a nudist colony takes all the fun out of Halloween."

Kristie at The Resolution

"What do witches put on their hair?
Scarespray."

Marta (and Benji) at mwrites

"Backward, turn backward,
O Time, in your flight
make me a child again
just for to-night!"

Diane at Little Bits of Nothing

"The greenish-white light grew larger,
taking on the shape of his dead wife.
'Give me back my golden hand . . .'
The next morning he was found dead,
with a golden hand clutched around his throat."

Corrie at Mrs. Organic

"What kind of mistakes do spooks make?
Boo boos."

Beck at My Meanderings

"We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun,
A-list'nin' to the witch tales 'at Annie tells about,

Miranda at 1,2,3 Things

"An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you don't watch out!"

(Worse than goblins, you might run into some scary ghouls
from a Come-As-You-Are party.)

Marty at TravelinOma

I hope you've met everyone at the party. Now, it's time to eat, drink and be scary. You'll need a few things for the games:

A roll of TP and a buddy;

Yarn, a broom handle and a Krispy Kreme;

and a bucket of apples.

And, of course, a costume.
I'm praying you have a
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

*Next week we'll have Class Presentations every day. Maybe you'll be called on!

School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

School Days: Class Party!

2009-10-29T00:12:00.005-06:00

Heroes Behind Bars, 1980

"I'm sick of school. I hate it. It's like I'm trapped. We just do the same things over and over. It's total busy work. Why can't I drop out? It's not teaching me anything, anyway. Everybody sleeps or sluffs. I can't believe I signed up for these stupid classes for a whole stupid semester. Do you know how boring it is to talk about the same thing for twelve weeks? And what's the big deal about graduating? It's just a stupid piece of paper. I am so done."

Family Council, 1985

"Mom, get a grip. You can't quit school. You're the teacher."

"Oh. Yeah."

I haven't been in school for . . . what's it been? Forty one years? But I recognize this feeling. Senioritis. I began the term with enthusiasm. A new notebook, sharpened pencils, a clean desk, a clean slate. Now I'm dragging, counting weeks, gazing out the window imagining myself with nothing to do. Maybe that's why I ended up with C's when I started out with A's. I'm a poor closer.

Well, that was then. I signed up for this gig and I'm going to finish it, and you are, too. But we need something to jump-start the last three weeks—we need a party.

Stop! Right where you are.

You're invited to a
Come-As-You-Are Halloween Parade

Get out your phone, your camera, (or your crayons) right this second and take your picture. Absolutely no primping allowed.

Email it to me: martyhalverson at comcast.net Hook the words together with @ (instead of the word at) like all email addresses.

Write Goulie Parade in the subject line. Include your first name, and/or blog address. That's it!

Send your photos by 10:00 tonight, and you'll be in the Ghoulie Parade tomorrow.

Even if you don't send a picture, come to the party!
(That's your homework.)

All the ghouls will be there.

Book Shelf Seminar: Mother Goose

2009-10-28T00:03:00.006-06:00

Mary Engelbreit's Mother Goose

Ten reasons why Mother Goose is my Hero.

She's old but still productive.
She compiles historic events, political cartoons and accounts of daily life into easy-to-remember rhymes.
She understands women who have so many children they don't know what to do.
She says, "Leave them alone, and they will come home..."
She's loved by children and trusted by adults.
She encourages Merry Old Souls.
She has a healthy fear of spiders.
She has an antidote for stress: "Bake me a cake as fast as you can!"
She gives wise marriage counseling. (Refer to Jack Sprat)
She might be made up, and she might be real, but she's worthwhile either way.

Last Halloween.

Extra touches:

"Diddle Diddle Dumpling....went to bed with his stockings on, one shoe off and one shoe on..."

"Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away home..."

"Lucy Locket lost her pocket..."

OK. She's not Winston Churchill, Sheri Dew or Eleanor Roosevelt. But I bet you quote Old Mother Goose occasionally. How else would you remember how many days April has?

Do you have a favorite version of Mother Goose?

The Real Mother Goose

Mother Goose

Take this quiz to see if you need a refresher course.

1. Who went up the hill?

Mother Goose
Little Boy Blue
Jack and Jill
Simple Simon

2. Who lost her sheep?

Little Bo Peep
Mistress Mary
Mary
Little Miss Muffet

3. Who could eat no lean?

Jack Sprat
Jack Sprat's wife
Mother Goose
Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater

4. Who ran away when the boys came out to play?

Humpty Dumpty
Georgie Porgie
Little Jack Horner
Little Bo Peep

5. Who sat on a wall?

All the King's Horses
Jack Sprat
Mistress Mary
Humpty Dumpty

6. Who was under the haystack fast asleep?

Little Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe
Humpty Dumpty
Little Boy Blue
Little Jack Horner

7. Whose cupboard was bare?

Little Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe
Jack Sprat
Old Mother Hubbard
Georgie Porgie

8. Who had a wife and couldn't keep her?

Little Jack Horner
Old King Cole
Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater
Jack Sprat

9. Who called for his pipe, bowl and fiddlers?

Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater
Simple Simon
Humpty Dumpty
Old King Cole

10. Who lived in a shoe?

Little Old Woman
Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater
Old King Cole
Jack Sprat

My Very First Mother Goose

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~If you dressed up as one of your heroes, who would it be? List 10 reasons why.

~See how many nursery rhymes you can recite to a baby you know.

~Who are three of your favorite children's book illustrators?

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Travel Studies Seminar: Sidewalks of New York

2009-10-27T01:53:00.003-06:00

This is a tour with all the trimmings.

Button up,

Because we're not taking a cab;

We'd miss too much.

Architecture,

Art,

Revolving doors to pricey jewels,

And open doors to pricey junk.

New York's finest guard the sidewalks,

But you might see some weird tourists!

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired:

~Make a list of things you'd like to do on a rainy day. Ideas: Learn to play chess, teach the kids to make paper airplanes, clean out the fridge, watch Singin' in the Rain and dance around with a yellow umbrella. Now, prepare a rainy-day-kit with the stuff you need. Wait for it to rain.

~Walk around your neighborhood and take pictures of the little things. Now, create a Bingo card with the photos (or just write your discoveries on a list.) Get a few flashlights and go on a scavenger hunt for your Halloween Party. When you get home, shape Pillsbury refrigerator biscuits into donuts, fry them and drizzle with icing. Serve with the hot spiced cider that's making your house smell so good.

~Carve up some pumpkins to trim your own sidewalk. (These were made by scraping the pumpkin thin in spots, without cutting all the way through.) Take a million photos and post them on your blog. Now, wash the pumpkin seeds, spread them on a cookie sheet, toast them in the oven for a few minutes, and sprinkle with salt.

~Skip Halloween altogether and go to New York City!

Write Away Seminar: Love Letters

2009-10-26T00:04:00.006-06:00

Teenage Sweethearts

We were lingering on my porch when Ken said he had a knock-knock joke for me.

"Knock knock." "Who's there?" "Terrify." "Terrify who?" "Terrify tissue?"

And then he did. Our braces knocked together, and I discovered later that my lip got cut. What did it matter? I was in love.

I was 14 and he was 16. We were in the ward Roadshow together which involved lots of practices. Mom would drop me off at the old Holladay 8th ward, knowing I was being supervised by my church leaders. I would go in one door alone, and out the other with Ken. We walked to the cemetery holding hands. During our on-stage moments, we rolled up in the curtain together and giggled. He sat with me in church and put his arm around me (without touching my shoulder, of course, but I knew he wanted to) with my dad watching.

It was an on-again, off-again romance. Off during school, on in the summer. Off when he had another girl-friend. On when he saw me at Sunday School. It was good enough for me.

Then he got his mission call to Sweden for two and a half years. There was a flurry of going-away-parties, and I was invited to his house for a farewell dinner. His grandparents were even there. If this wasn't a proposal, I didn't know what was. Obviously he wanted me to wait. I was invited to go with his family downtown to the Assembly Hall the night before he was official. We sat through a testimony meeting of 300 missionaries all declaring their love for family, girl-friends and, oh yeah, the gospel. I waited for two hours to hear him say, "I appreciate Marty" in front of everyone. When I heard those words, I knew. I would wait.

Every week I wrote faithfully, outside under our lilac bushes, or sitting at the desk which displayed my Ken doll dressed in a suit and tie. It was all very romantic. I kept him up-to-date on all the neighborhood news, and included little quotes and scriptures, cartoon clippings, jokes (kind of like my blog.) He was way too busy converting Swedes to write back, but I was understanding and patient. The perfect girlfriend.

A year or so later I went to BYU. All the girls in my dorm were writing to missionaries, and some of them were waiting, too. I noticed that they huddled around the mailboxes when the postman arrived, and joyfully snatched their letters from his hand. Their boyfriends must not be converting anybody, I thought. They had so much time to write.

A roommate commented that I was being duped. "Why are you still waiting?" she asked. "He never writes." Irritated, I told her he wrote when he could, but deep down I started feeling exploited. It wasn't considerate, I realized. He was totally rude! After stewing over it another month (without any mail) I carefully composed a Dear John. All my roommates contributed phrases, and I sent it off in a huff.

The response came quickly. "Oh. Sorry I didn't ever write. I didn't know you were waiting."

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Write a letter to a person who's been rude to you. Let it all out. Do not send it.

~Have you ever written a letter you regret sending? Write about that experience. Prompt: "I knew I shouldn't have sent it the moment I dropped it in the mailbox. It was to_______"

~Write a mushy love letter to your true love. If you don't have one at the moment, write to the one who will be coming along someday.

Write away!

P.S. I'm home now, and anxious to read your homework assignments again. Leave a link.

School of Thought Seminar: Post Card NYC

2009-10-23T00:12:00.002-06:00

Today we're eating the Big Apple. Here's a postcard from New York City: land of the Statue of Liberty, Fifth Avenue, Ground Zero, and David Letterman.

Since we're discussing your philosophies in this class, I'd like you to take one of those topics and write a paragraph to express how you feel.

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Prompt: "When I see a picture of the Statue of Liberty I get chills. To me, it means . . . "

~Prompt: "Fifth Avenue is the code word for shopping. When I think of shopping I . . ."

~Prompt: "I'll never forget where I was on 9-11. I . . . "

~Prompt: "I go to bed every night with Dave. But lately . . . "

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Family Matters Seminar: Postcard of Strength

2009-10-22T00:11:00.004-06:00

Strengthen the Family

"If you want your children to keep their feet on the ground,
put some responsibility on their shoulders."
—Ann Landers

I learned something about this when I went on Pioneer Trek.

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Write about a time when you felt a heavy responsibility. What did it teach you? Prompt: "I didn't think I could do it. I________"

~One mother wrote, "Don't do anything for your kids that they could do themselves." How do you feel about that statement?

~Another mother wrote, "My job is to put myself out of a job." List 10 things kids need to learn to become self-sufficient.

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Book Shelf Seminar: Post Card to Authors

2009-10-21T01:04:00.007-06:00

Dear Class,
I'm assuming you're all behaving and studying hard. I'll be back next week. In the meantime, please read the material in these two chapters, and complete the written assignment.

Love,

TravelinOma

Do you ever wish that you could find just the right book? Maybe you should Write your own!
You may be an illustrator, too. I've been trying to find a solution in that department. For The Doll Collection we had a photo-shoot. I dressed up my grandkids and told them how to pose for the shots.

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Have you looked high and low for a book that doesn't seem to have been written? On what topic? What would be the title? Who do you wish was the author? Could you write it?

~I love the book No, David. Did you know David Shannon wrote the book using pictures he drew as a little boy? Look at some illustrations and decide if you could illustrate your own book.

~Write a paragraph about having a substitute teacher. Idea: "Mrs. Sullivan was the world's worst substitute. She made a boy stand with his nose in a circle she drew on the blackboard because he was bad."

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Travel Studies: Postcard with Photos

2009-10-20T00:05:00.005-06:00

It's a snap!

Anne Lamott wrote:

"So I grew up around this man who sat at his desk in the study all day and wrote books and articles about the places and people he had seen and known. He read a lot of poetry. Sometimes he traveled. He could go anyplace he wanted with a sense of purpose. One of the gifts of being a writer is that it gives you an excuse to do things, to go places and explore. Another is that writing motivates you to look closely at life, at life as it lurches by and tramps around."— Bird by Bird

I started traveling as a Sherpa. Dee loaded me down with a tripod and camera bag, heavy with interchangeable camera bodies and wide-angle lenses. He needed to be unencumbered, with his hands free to snap fabulous candid shots. His job looked more fun than mine.

A few years ago I got a darling red CoolPix digital camera. I took the instruction book to Kinko's and had it blown up and spiral bound so I could actually see the words and study the illustrations. I experimented with modes and scenes, and figured out it's many features.

It has changed the way I travel! (No longer is shopping the main activity.) I try to capture my experience in photos, and use them to tell stories. For example, the stamp market in Paris didn't hold tons of appeal for me. It was Dee's activity. But with my CoolPix I searched for cool pics and the morning was fascinating.

Luckily with digital cameras, there's no concern about wasting film. Take as many shots as you can to insure you'll get a good one. And remember that even professional photographers have mishaps! Marta gave some great tips for the non-professional photographer the other day. It you missed her post, read it here.

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired:

~Page through a glossy travel magazine. What do you see? Are the pictures taken from unusual angles? Did the photographer use a natural frame such as trees, or a window? Do people in the photo look posed or natural?

~Find photos of a recent trip. Weed out any photos showing people staring stiffly at the camera, the blurry ones, or those taken from so far away that you can't remember what they're of. Choose ten that could be used to tell a story of something you saw or learned. Collage them and frame, make an iPhoto slideshow with an appropriate soundtrack (it's very easy using the iPhoto prompts) or make a scrapbook page.

~Pretend you're writing an article for a travel magazine. Take your camera on a walk through your neighborhood and take pictures to illustrate it in a colorful, positive way. Practice your skills and be ready for your next trip!

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Write Away Seminar: Post Card from Philly

2009-10-19T00:01:00.002-06:00

Art by C. E. Turner

I'm off! This week I'm a TravelinOma in deed, as well as word.

Faraway grandkids change their identities every few months, so I need to get reacquainted with my Philly group. I can't wait.

I'll get to lay on their beds at night whispering secrets and singing lullabies, listen as they tell me about horseback riding, soccer, or ow-ies. I'll watch ET, Survivor Man, High School Musical and Spongebob, somersaults in the family room, or tricks on the trampoline. I'll sit at the table and be served wholesome meals, while I philosophize with their folks, discussing everything from building a deck to why people watch The Office. I'd rather be with my kids and grandkids than anywhere else I can think of. It energizes me to see them in the homes they've created for themselves. And it validates the years of active mothering we endured together. It is pure joy to be an observer of their busy lives.

The TravelinOma Kit is packed this time with a Halloween Party. I've already sent the invitation, and I'm taking my costume, decorations to haunt the house, plus games, prizes and spooky tales.

You, however, don't get to party. School is still in session. Postcards will arrive daily, right here, with links to a classroom discussion. And you'll still have homework. I won't be reading your assignments as closely this week, so everybody check each other's work.

To get you started, click over to Sher-in-dipity for a quick laugh, and then visit an old post I wrote about blogging.

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Your grandma has just come to visit. She knows nothing about blogging, facebook, twitter, and she's pretty fuzzy about email. How would you explain your hobby? Prompt: "I know it seems like I'm just wasting time on the computer, but it's different. It's like_______."

~List 5 things you'd like to see in a Blogger's Book of Etiquette.

~Write about a relative who came to stay at your house. Idea: "Grandpa came to stay with us after his open-heart surgery. It wasn't exactly fun. I remember . . . "

Write away!

School of Thought Seminar: It's Debatable

2009-10-16T01:46:00.006-06:00

Smarty Marty, 1964

My dad used to say that I'd argue that black was white. I'd answer hotly, "I would not!" Actually, I love a good debate. Some of the best have been inside my own head.

Anne Lamott said it perfectly. "My mind spends much of its time arguing with people who aren't there. I walk along defending myself to people, or exchanging repartee with them, or rationalizing my behavior, or seducing them with gossip, or pretending I'm on their TV talk show or whatever. I speed or run an aging yellow light and don't come to a full stop, and one nanosecond later I'm explaining to imaginary cops exactly why I had to do what I did, or insisting that I did not in fact do it."

The folks in my head hear incredible justifications of why I do what I do, and think what I think. It's all because of Mr. Greaves; he taught debate at Olympus Jr. High. I landed in his class by accident when I signed up for Speech in 8th grade, in preparation for my acting career. Rather than preparing us for the stage, he was preparing us for life. The regular assignment was to argue for an idea for three minutes, and then switch places to argue against the same issue. Researching both sides of a subject opened my mind to both points of view.

"I see your point!"

In the Deseret News, Sept 10, 2009, Lois M. Collins wrote about her experience:

"My debate class was not just a place where I could stand up and argue my point of view in a forum where people had to listen . . . the lasting value was actually in the fact that it forced me to listen to those who saw things differently, or even adamantly opposed my view. That was the key to writing an effective argument.

"Although my job as a debater was to defend my assigned position on a topic, there were a lot of times when I thought, 'He's right about that,' or 'I never thought of that,' or 'I did not know that.'
It was a learning process that showed me how to do research and helped me refine both my own beliefs and my arguments in support of those beliefs. It gave me a lifelong love of well-reasoned discussion.

"So many of us are out of our comfort zone if we are even just forced to listen to those who hold different ideas about subjects like politics or religion. And it's not enough to just refuse to listen. It's pretty common to dismiss entirely or show open disrespect for those with an opposing viewpoint.

"My dad had very strong beliefs, among them the importance of listening to others and being part of a civilized dialogue. 'All viewpoints should be aired,' he said. The only thing he would not tolerate was rudeness. He demanded we be respectful as we disagreed.

"He taught me that being willing to listen only to those who think the same way I do eliminates all chance of growth. No surprises. No new thoughts or discoveries or opportunities to learn."

Debate led me to an addiction to politics. I follow political talk shows, blogs, newspaper op-ed pages—I love the entire process. I admire the audacity of politicians even when I think they're idiots. It's thrilling to witness their commitment to a cause. While I rant and rave at the press, I review and read anything they give me. And, after I've listened to many sides of the same issue, I draw my own conclusions.

Experience colors our politics. Some of you will remember that I'm obsessed with health care—we need it.

The nearly dead, 2006

Because of pre-existing conditions, we can't get insurance. But because of those same pre-existing conditions, we have a ton of medical bills. And we're getting even more. Dee's ambulance ride a couple of weeks ago cost $1300. (We got an automated call the day after his heart attack, demanding immediate payment!) Plus the hospital bill is $45,000 (not counting the emergency room, the cardiologist, or the anesthesiologist, whose bills are still in the mail.)

After meeting with the billing department, we received an "uninsured discount" of $11,000, which sounded generous until we remembered that we still had at least $34,000 that we're responsible for. On our way home from the hospital we stopped at the pharmacy. Ninety days worth of new meds cost $856! I'm not kidding. The pharmacist said, "Whoa. That's more than my house payment."

And, of course, there are all the ongoing pre-existing conditions. The heart problems are new. I could go on and on and on . . .

I've been surprised at the response we get when we voice our hopes for health care reform. People are openly rude about it. I've had friends look at me as if I supported terrorism! Some have been disbelieving, not of the situation, but of me. "Surely, if you just called somebody, there would be a logical way out of your predicament," they suggest. That's why people like us are calling the president. Everybody else hung up on us. (Frequently, it was the receptionist at the doctor's office.)

Today when I asked my ophthalmologist for a sample of the eye drops he says I can't stop using ($130 for 30 days) he gave me a tiny bottle and suggested I contact the drug company for "help." He might not realize that the paperwork each company requires (bank statements, tax returns, etc.) will indicate that we make too much (anything over $30,000) to qualify. And who wants to go through the equivalent of a refinance every time they need a prescription? (Here I am, going on and on again.)

Changes in health care won't help us. Medicare will have kicked in by the time anything actually happens, if it happens at all. But our experience is not unique or even uncommon. Millions of families are worried sick, wondering how they would weather a hailstorm of doctor bills. It's a scary way to live. I know.

Your anxieties are probably different than mine. Maybe you drove the ambulance, and you're worried that we can't pay you in time for your new baby.

Our newest baby.

Or maybe you're concerned that your premiums will go up if people with lots of diseases join your insurance group.

Amy sick in bed, 1985

I think your pains are as legitimate as mine. I hope I'd react sympathetically and listen with courtesy when we discussed it. We could respectfully talk it over, share thoughts and valid experiences, without shouting the rhetoric of hysteria. So, would either of us change our minds? That's debatable!

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~What is a politically-charged issue you feel strongly about? Forget the rhetoric you've heard. Using your own words and experience, tell why this is important to you.

~Have you had a discussion/argument with a loved one recently? Write about it from the other person's point of view.

~Remember a class that had a significant impact on your personal philosophy of life. Think about the teacher, and send kindly thoughts.

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Family Matters Seminar: Ghost Stories

2009-10-15T01:42:00.000-06:00

I'm married to a professional Ghostbuster.

Dee hunts for skeletons in closets, libraries, and archives. He sifts through crumbled letters, faded diaries, disintegrating scrapbooks, and dusty boxes from under somebody's bed. He not only hunts for ghosts, he learns to love them, and weirdly enough they love him back. We can always tell. They lead him to clues and secrets that will flesh out their story.

In the graveyard of old newspaper clippings and photo albums the relationship starts: Dee and the ghost begin bonding. Actually, his best friends (and most enthusiastic clients) are all dead. But they're still real. Dee's joy is introducing descendants to ancestors, giving them a contact to their past. Matthew Heiss, archivist in the LDS church history department, said, "Without a history, we are like people with amnesia. When we have a record of our past, we have a memory."

I've learned a few tricks of the Ghostbuster trade, searching for Bohemian Omas, princesses and pirates. Now I'm haunted by my own ancestors—I think it might be an age thing. Suddenly I'm dying to get acquainted.

Harbor Malmo

Tilda Louise Borgeson Lavin Lundgren was born in 1867 in Malmo, Sweden. She married Anders Lavin when she was just eighteen and at nineteen had a baby boy they named Theodore. She wrote this:

I was raised as a devout Lutheran. When my tiny boy Theodore died at just two years old I began to question God. At this time of sorrow I found a new faith that brought hope of eternal families. On February 4, 1886 the ice was cut in the river and my husband and I were baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I knew I would be ridiculed by my family for what I had done, and I was right. All the members of my family turned against me.

Street in Malmo

Only a few days after my baptism I met my mother on the street and she crossed to the other side so as not to speak to me. (In time they became more friendly and eventually my mother,

my sister, and her family also joined the Church.)

By then a new little boy, George, had filled the void in our hearts left by the loss of our baby. We decided to emigrate to Utah in America to join other Mormons who lived there.

The ship was crowded, and the trip was long and difficult with much illness on board. I was very frightened, as I was only 22 years old.

On board an immigrant ship, 1880's.

When we arrived in Salt Lake City my husband was very ill. I became a dressmaker, and worked at a restaurant where I did cleaning. I went early in the morning and made sure I was through before anyone came, as I didn't want anyone to see me doing that kind of work, though it was honest labor.

SLC Main Street about 1900

If I had had any money I would have gone back to Sweden, where I could get better work. Those were trying days, and I almost lost my courage. Learning the language was a very hard task. The Lord helped me learn English and adjust to the customs.

In just three years we already had an adorable baby girl, Agnes, and another precious son, Joseph. When he was a year old he became very ill. It was the Lord's will that he should go, but it was terribly hard to lose him.

Not long after this great sorrow another beautiful blue-eyed baby was born to us. How proud we were of him. I loved to lie on the bed and look at him. He was such a healthy baby and when my friends came I was over-anxious to show him off.

One day while I was busy in my kitchen, a never to be forgotten accident occurred. I kept a wooden tub outside by the water pump. I left just a very small amount of water in the bottom of it to keep it from drying out and cracking. I had just checked on my baby and then went about my work. Within seconds I heard a terrible scream. My neighbor had come to get water and there she found my baby, Henry, face down in the very shallow water in the tub. He had died instantly, it seemed.

The sorrow was almost more than I could bear. Everyone did all they could for me, but I failed to be comforted. Baby Henry did not have a wet spot on him. His little life was just snuffed out so quickly. Oh, the shock was terrible! He was just a little over a year old. I felt the hope go out of me.

Our oldest son, George was then about seven years old. He came to me in my sorrow and tried to comfort me. I was so bereaved I scarcely knew what I said. I answered him, "Oh, you will probably die too, I guess." Instead of turning from me he looked up at me and said, "No, Mama. I'm not going to die. I will grow up and make you proud, and you will be glad."

It seemed like there was magic when our eyes met. As he said this to me, something in my soul awakened. The faith my little son showed at this time acted as tonic from heaven to me. My faith in God's love was made stronger, and I was again able to walk through this garden of Gethsemane. Little George's prophesy was fulfilled. He did grow up to make me proud, and I was glad.

My prayer from that day on was that I would prove to be worthy to meet my babies Theodore, Joseph and Henry again. I always gave thanks to God that he allowed me to keep my children George and Agnes, who lived to raise seven children each. I have had much joy and gladness in my life."

Lundgren Family, 1930

Tilda's daughter Agnes is the one with glasses. This is her husband Axel Lundgren and their seven children. My mom, Junie is the one on her Dad's lap.

After Alex Haley published the book Roots, he said, "My hope is that Roots will start a ground swell of longing for people everywhere to go digging for their own roots, to discover a heritage to make them proud . . . "

As I get older I feel a yearning to know my history. Referring to someone famous, a reporter said, "He's from an old family," as if the rest of us just popped up from nowhere in recent generations. We each descend from "an old family" with heroines, rogues, villains and champions, and tales of tragedy and valor that could encourage us. Stories make these folks come alive.

Dee has noticed that every family has a self-appointed historian with a passion for keeping the records and photographs. Alex Haley discovered oral historians called griots in Africa. He said, "They are men trained from boyhood to memorize, preserve and recite the centuries-old histories of villages, clans, families, and heroes. Some are keepers of family stories so long that they can talk for three days without ever repeating themselves."

The last sentence in the Old Testament talks about ghost busting. In Malachi 4:6 it says:

"And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children,
and the heart of the children to their fathers . . ."

Has your heart been turned? Do you believe in ghosts?

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Get acquainted with a few of your own ghosts: Figure out who the family griot is and schedule a time to visit them.

~Find some pictures of your grands and greats. Do you look like any of them? Memorize the full names and birthdates of all four grandparents.

~You saw things differently as a child. Write a description of your parents from that perspective.

Book Shelf Seminar: Scary Tales

2009-10-14T00:04:00.003-06:00

Halloweeny or a Hallowinner—
Which witch are you?

October 1st used to give me shivers. Halloween was fast approaching and I was the ghoul who was supposed to make it thrilling. As a mom it was my least favorite holiday. As a kid it was my favorite.

My mother created award-winning costumes. I just wanted vampire teeth. Mom hand-beaded my Indian Princess ensemble, and trimmed it with real suede fringe. Long grass from the field was sewn into my Hawaiian skirt and coconut shells attached to a tan leotard. Dangling Gypsy earrings were made from the rims of canning jars, which Mom painted and glittered. My off-the-shoulder white peasant blouse had golden spangles, and the skirt was flounced with a variety of colorful fabrics. Mom was a Hallowinner.

I was a Halloweeny. My costumes were witty and the kids didn't get the joke. Coming up with seven clever costumes was a yearly horror more terrifying that any goblin I might see. One year I made Gabi go as a table. I cut a hole in the middle of a big box, cut the bottom flaps off, and covered it with a tablecloth. Plastic dishes and silverware were glued on. My mortified daughter stood in the middle of the table and carried it waist high, dressed as a vase. Her neck and arms were green and she had flowers on her head. It was avant-gard, daring, and un-cool for a fourth grader. She just wanted vampire teeth.

But I had a few tricks under my pointy hat. Ghost stories. With the lights out, and a few candles burning, I told the one about a couple parked in lover's lane. "As they cuddled, they heard on the radio that a boy and girl were bludgeoned to death by a man with a hook instead of a hand. 'I'm afraid,' the girl whispered to her date. He held her closer. Suddenly there was a scratching sound on the window. Assuming it was a branch, they snuggled up. Scratch. It scared them, but the wind was howling and they felt safe in each other's arms. SCRATCH. This time it was chilling, and they quickly left for home. When the boy went around to open the car door for his girlfriend, hanging from the handle was a bloody hook."

My all time favorite Halloween story starts out, "Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay . . ."

The Gobble-uns'll Git You Ef You Don't Watch Out!

and ends with the chilling verse, "'er the gobble-uns'll git you ef you don't watch out!"

I read these stories to my little grandkids around the campfire this summer and it was perfect for the 4-6-year-old crowd. I wish I had I the old Boy Scout handbook with spook stories built right it. It's sad when a memory surfaces and you can't pin-point where you stashed it. Back in the day we had a Disney cartoon movie featuring the story of Icabod Crane, which we loved to watch as a family. I wish I could find a copy of that.

The perfect finale to an evening of scary tales is a ghostly cake with glowing eyes:

Ghost Cake

Bake a cake in an oblong pan.
When cool, dump out of the pan carefully onto a tray.

Now cut off two pieces to create a rounded ghost shape.
The two extra pieces will become arms.

Use white meringue type frosting from a box to glue the arms on the sides of the cake.
Frost the cake.
Use black licorice for the mouth.

Now the spooky part:
Break an egg, dump out the insides, and place each 1/2 eggshell (open side up) for eyes.
Soak two sugar cubes in lemon extract.
Place sugar cubes in egg shells, and light them with a match.
The eyes will glow.

Serve with some oozing body parts:

Bloody Fingers

Put some red food coloring in 2 cups of water.

Pour the water into a rubber kitchen glove and freeze.
Cut the glove off,
and float the frozen, bloody hand in a punch bowl
filled with apple cider.

Now that I'm an Oma, I love Halloween again. No costumes, no trick-or-treating in freezing temps with miserable toddlers, no sugar tantrums. Grandmas can do whatever we want to do! It's a fun stage to be in. I would love a book of Halloween party ideas, ghost stories for pre-teens, and spook alley suggestions that would make their eyes pop.

I want to take off my Halloweeny costume,
and be a Hallowinner!

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~List 10 ideas for a spook alley, or a Halloween party.

~Tell a ghost story you remember from your youth.

~Suggest a favorite book of scary tales. What age is it appropriate for?

Travel Studies Seminar: Souvenirs

2009-10-12T22:49:00.006-06:00

Salzburg Window Displays

I don't know why we don't wear dirndls. They look innocent and sexy at the same time. The bodice is made with stays that push you in and out in all the right places, and the white petticoats and lacy blouses peak out coyly top and bottom.

Patterned fabrics are mixed like quilt pieces and the color combos can be playful or sophisticated. There's even matching stuff for the guys. I wish I went places where hats with feathers would look appropriate. Do you think I could wear this outfit to pick up my prescriptions at WalMart?

Salzburg window displays are an art form. Lit up at night even though the shops are closed, they make it fulfilling just to browse.

In my travels I've satisfied my lust by window shopping, writing down color combinations, or drawing some of the displays in my journal. It gives me ownership. I've also discovered I can keep anything I want with my camera. I brought these exquisite ensembles home with me from Salzburg last year and they didn't cost me a euro!

One accessory always finds it's way into my suitcase, however. I have a collection of elegant silk scarves from Salzburg, with hand-tied fringe. I wear them year round and love to add a new color or pattern.

Shopping for souvenirs can be frustrating when there's not a lot of money to spend. I have discovered that when I'm searching for particular keepsakes that I know I can buy, I have as much fun as when I'm accumulating a suitcase full of random loot.

We travel light so we collect mementos that are cheap (or free,) unique, and easy to pack. Dee calls it eclectic collecting. Some ideas are:

Matchbooks. These are harder to come by now that restaurants are smoke-free, but they look great framed as a collage.
Buttons. Antique stores often have big jars full of unusual old-fashioned buttons. It gives me a reason to go into these quirky places.
Art postcards. Tonight I worked on a card catalog containing my favorite works of art from museum store postcards. I now have over a hundred. These are also fun to search for in antique stores.
Cardboard coasters with colorful insignias of the local brew are sometimes sitting right under your glass. Don't spill, and take them home.
Napkins are much cheaper than tablecloths, but can be just as beautiful with lace or embroidered details. I buy a variety that I can layer on top of a solid colored tablecloth. It's fun to take notes of how they are displayed in the stores.
Local crafts. I can't afford to buy each of my 20 grandkids the darling toys and trinkets I see different places, so I buy something for my Oma Kits. In Salzburg I bought ten tiny wood carvings with magnets on the back. They are each about two inches long, and are made like little marionettes, with dangling arms and legs.
Coins, stamps, or cool business cards with interesting logos or foreign writing.
Menus. Some restaurants will give you one if you ask, especially if you offer to pay.
Toiletries in a different language seem exotic. Toothpaste or even tiny kleenex packages make me smile after I'm home.
Books. This is where we splurge. We always ask if the bookstore will send our purchases home. If that isn't possible we take them to the post office where we buy boxes and tape and ship them ourselves. A few days after we get home, our treasures arrive: a package containing colorful maps or antique book plates from a tiny, hidden shop down a winding path where we spent a cozy hour one rainy afternoon.

Ideas, memories and inspiration are some of the dearest keepsakes from our travels.

Hansi

Hansi wasn't an actual souvenir, but the idea for him was. We saw tree trunks carved into faces on a trip to Austria, and when we got home, we found an authentic Bavarian wood-carver, who made us one. Our daughter Amy was afraid of him when she was a little girl, and ran past him with her eyes covered. Our other daughter Heidi loved him so much that he now sits on her hearth.

Two of my aunts went to Europe together in 1955, and brought me home a collection of little silver spoons from each of the places they went. I still remember the one from Holland—it had a little windmill that really moved. From that little present when I was six, my interest was kindled and I began dreaming of the day I could visit "faraway places with strange sounding names." As the song says, they were "calling, calling me."

What do you do with all the little stuff that you collect on a vacation? My sister artistically framed her memories of a trip to England. On a map, she used string (I think) and map pins to mark their route, and then attached ticket stubs, menus, photos, etc. to create a collage. I'm sure she bought a few pricey momentos, but her arrangement of the free bits and pieces is striking.

Although I spend money every chance I get, I can have fun traveling without it. I've realized that the real souvenir isn't a purchase. The memory of dodging horses in a rainstorm, remembering a long forgotten vocabulary, noticing that even the old ladies in Austrian capes and alpine hats are talking on cell phones as they stroll the 12th century streets—those are the things I want to take home. Genuine souvenirs aren't in the shops. They are free for the taking anywhere you make a memory.

Among my souvenirs.

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~ What do you collect on trips? How do you display your collections?

~ Do you have a unique souvenir in your home? Tell it's story: where did it come from, how did you get it, who should inherit it?

~Who inspired your desire to travel? Write them a thank you note.

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Write Away Seminar: Happy Trails

2009-10-12T00:03:00.013-06:00

Bagpipers in Trailing of the Sheep Parade

It seems like everyone else has such an exciting life.
They're from other places, and do different things.
They march to a different beat.

Polish Dancers, Trailing of the Sheep

They get to wear cool outfits.
I'd dance through life, too, if I had a cool outfit.

Basque Shepherds, Trailing of the Sheep

These guys are Basque.
They must live in some faraway, fairytale place,
like . . .
Idaho??

Herding the Sheep, Ketchum, Idaho

They're shepherds!

Basque Sheep-Shearers

This cute girl shears sheep for a living.

Shearing a sheep

She's been at it since she was a little girl,
and while she's pretty fast,
her husband is faster.
He can shear up to 200 sheep a day!

Sheepcamp

In the summer, they live in a sheepcamp like this.

It's got modern appliances,

And all the comforts of home.

Dee and I went to visit!

Dee's writing a history of sheep-ranching in Utah. So, suddenly we're into sheep. This weekend was the annual Trailing of the Sheep Festival in Ketchum, Idaho (just outside Sun Valley) and we went on a research trip. A few of the activities were: a gallery walk featuring lamb appetizers, sheep dog contests, a hike to see shepherd art carved into trees, Polish dancers, Basque musicians, demonstrations of carding and spinning wool. The grand finale was a parade, with a herd of 1500 sheep running down Main Street on the way from their summer pasture to their winter home.

Fingers flying, yarn balls rolling, a family of knitters were part of the story-telling event. Nine of them (including a 7-year-old boy) sat on stage working their needles and telling stories of folks from New Zealand, Scotland, France, Spain, Peru, Chili and Poland who brought their knowledge of sheep ranching to the United States a hundred years ago. The tradition has stayed alive, and large families still live this nomadic life—right now—in Idaho, Nevada, Wyoming and other regular places. Who knew?

Dee and Marty Collecting Info

Can you imagine how boring and lonely and unexciting it must be to herd sheep? But we were absolutely fascinated because it's so different. It just shows that everybody has a story to tell.

Even you. But here you are, sitting at your desk, paper in front of you, pencils sharp, pens poised for action wondering: What can I write about? What is there to say? You feel as blank as the page itself.

Deep down you know you have a lot to say. Just think about your last telephone call. Can you hear how you jabbered away to one of your best friends? You had plenty of ideas then. Think about the last time you griped to someone about your life. You were loaded with complaints, weren't you? Or consider your advice to your little sister, who has an idiot for a boyfriend, or your brother who just quit his job. And your mom. You honed your talent for debate right in her kitchen. Yes, you have a lot of wisdom.

You have within you a gold mine of source material to draw on for writing. Moreover, you are unique. No one else has lived your life. No one else knows quite what you know or sees through your particular eye. So, what you have to say is special and will be alive and interesting. If you can reveal what you know, value, think about, worry about, fear, or look forward to, you are bound to find an audience.

Writing is risky: you show your reader who you are, but you must write from yourself and with your own authentic voice. Don't just follow the crowd. Be the black sheep. Be ewe.

2009 Trailing of the Sheep Parade

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Write a love letter to a modern appliance you could not live without. Idea: "Dear Washer: Before you came to live with me, my life stunk . . . "

~Could you live absolutely alone, for weeks at a time? Write a paragraph about what you would do if you had nothing to do. Prompt: "All I have here is time. I've decided that I will . . . "

~If you could plan a 3-day festival to depict your lifestyle, what ten activities would you choose? Go back and explain why each one is meaningful. Idea: Hike up Mount Olympus, German cooking class, political debate, etc."

Write away!

School of Thought Seminar: Little Boy Lost

2009-10-09T00:03:00.000-06:00

Sam

The elevator opened and out walked a little boy. He was all alone, about two years old, with a binky firmly plugged in his mouth. I said, "Hi! Who do you belong to?" He just looked at me and started toddling towards the hall, like he knew where he was going. I took his hand and said, "Let's go find your mom."

He wasn't worried, or afraid of me. He didn't even know he was lost. I wondered if anyone knew he was lost. Our building has eight floors, each with 35 apartments, and three elevators. Plus our apartment complex has a second, taller building connected with a hallway. There's an additional entrance lobby over there, and there are underground parking levels for both buildings. This little guy could have come from anywhere! Maybe he'd just wandered out his front door and caught a ride, and nobody had noticed his getaway.

I punched all the buttons and we rode down together, holding hands. At each stop I stepped out and looked around, and then we continued our ride. Finally the door opened on a woman who was crying, hanging onto three little kids of various ages, frantically talking to one of our managers. I knew we'd found Mom. She scooped up my little friend and hugged him, saying to me, "Thank you, oh thank you so much!"

It turns out they were visiting someone, and while the mom was figuring out which way to go, her little boy disappeared. The elevator must have opened, he walked in unnoticed, and when I rang for it on the 7th floor, the doors closed and he was on his way. It had only been a minute or two, but when you've lost your baby, that's a long, long time.

Have you ever wandered into a part of your life and felt lost? Or maybe you didn't even know you were lost yet, but others noticed you were missing and set out to find you. I think it happens a lot. We get caught in the thick of thin things, and lose sight of our priorities.

I read somewhere that on a regular basis we should ask ourselves:

Who are the most important people in my life? Do they know it by my actions?
What is my #1 goal right now? Did I spend any time this week working towards it?
What's an activity that makes me happy? When was the last time I did it?
Am I contributing something positive to the world? What?
Am I becoming who I want to be?

We all get off on the wrong floor occasionally, and wander purposefully, though aimlessly until someone points out that maybe we're lost. Here's to finding the way back!

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Answer any of the five questions above in your journal or on your blog.

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Family Matters Seminar: Matroshka

2009-10-08T00:16:00.001-06:00

Matriarch of a big peasant family, colorful, kerchiefed, round and rosy-cheeked—
who could represent me better?

I started collecting nesting dolls a long time ago. Made in Russia, the real name is Matryoshka, from a word that means Mother. They are sometimes called Babushka Dolls, which I like, too, because it means Grandmother.

There are lots of different themes and designs, and I delight in seeing how the artists from various villages paint them so meticulously. My granddaughters love taking the dolls apart to reveal smaller dolls fitting inside one another. I tell each girl that the big doll represents her. Her mom is next, and I am after that, with generations of grandmothers and great-grandmothers, back and back and back, who all love her and want her to be happy. If those women could, they would share the lessons they have learned about life.

Art by Kathryn Brown

I hope my little girls can someday realize the blessing of being Matryoshka and Babushka. It has become more challenging to make this choice. Bryce Christensen says, "Too many women have succumbed to a dangerously narrow view of womanhood, repudiating homemaking itself as an outmoded and dispensable artifact of a misguided culture." In his article HomeLess America, he states that women's traditional skills have lost their value. "By rejecting a role differentiation between fathers and mothers, some women have lost sight of the home as an independent moral realm, building relationships and values that are different from those of the commercial realm." (This is a great article I've referred to often on my blog. It's long, but interesting.)

Some attitudes of our society that I hope my little granddaughters will recognize as lies are:

Men are smarter, have all the power and are more important, so if we want to have influence in the world we should be more like them.
Marriage and family are confining.
Motherhood is menial and a waste of any talented woman's time.
Women are perpetually frazzled and failing.
A woman's value is based on her size, shape, and what she accomplishes outside the home. —Listed in the words of Sheri Dew.

Some truths I hope these girls will learn from the legacy of their mothers and grandmothers:

By developing the God-given nature to nurture, women have a unique opportunity to change the world.
The influence of a mother has no limit and no end. She can share every aspect of her education and experience in the atmosphere of love she fashions.
Creating a home is a way of creating a world.
Women have abilities beyond their wildest dreams to organize and create.
Women are the soul of a family and a community.

It's been said that women are the survival kit of the human race. That responsibility has been handed down from generation to generation.

I think it's something inside us!

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Write about some things your mother did that seem outdated now. Were they a waste of time, or should they be reinstated? Prompt: "My mom insisted that we_________. Now, as an adult, I wonder if______."

~List ten things your dad would never have done to help out around the house, that modern dads do routinely. Idea: Change diapers, give kids a bath, etc.

~Write a paragraph about one of the numbered statements. Do you agree or disagree? Why?

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.

Book Shelf Seminar: Cook Book

2009-10-07T01:10:00.004-06:00

Heart-warming

"Everyone has a mental picture (not always accurate, of course, but who cares) of the sweet-faced, twinkly-eyed little old lady with a heart of gold, a comfortable bosom, and a faded apron that seems permanently fastened to her flowered house dress. And just conjuring her up in your mind's eye on a bad day can make you feel better.

"Usually flushed from the heat of the kitchen and beaming happily in anticipation of feeding her family, Granny didn't worry about words like cholesterol, carbohydrates or calories.

"Granny's big square kitchen, the focal point of her house, was almost as comfortable as she was, with wall-to-wall linoleum, an alcove for the icebox, and a profusion of African violets on the windowsill over the sink. She swore she never did anything special for the violets; she just gave them a drink of water whenever she had one.

"And Granny could cook like the dickens. What I'd give right now to be sitting down to one of her never-to-be-forgotten Sunday-afternoon dinners!"—Holly Garrison

I learned to eat from my grama. Not cook. Eat. Coconut Cream Pie, Parker House Rolls, frosted sugar cookies, mashed potatoes with butter and sour cream and gravy to die for. Unfortunately I've learned recently that you can die from all those heavenly ingredients.

OK. I knew it before, but I didn't want to know it. I wanted to think I was different. After all, Grama lived into her 90's, and even after a stroke, when she wanted to go, she just couldn't die because her heart was so strong. I forgot that her heart was strong from hanging clothes on the line, picking raspberries, tending her hydrangea bushes and hiking up and down two flights of stairs many times a day. Seeing as I have a dryer, an elevator and prize-winning gardeners, I can't count on heredity to see me to ninety.

So, my book of the week is this:

Heart-healthy

I'm learning to "pamper my heart and tickle my taste buds." It's embarrassing to admit how dumb I actually am about nutrition, but I've decided confession is the first step to change. "My name is Oma and I am a food-a-holic." There. I've said it. So now I'm humbled and ready to learn.

Since I'm a newbie in the health food aisle, I'm looking for book suggestions and advice that will guide my shopping cart in the right direction. Marta, one of my blogging Heroes, reviewed Eat This, Not That and I ran right out and bought it. Anna, one of my cooking Heroes, told me to shop the perimeter of the grocery store, and avoid packaged foods. And Amy, one of my slender Heroes, suggested The Calorie King.

Calories and carbs sound like such dreary topics while cookbooks are so fun to peruse. Even though I don't buy a lot of them, I love to flip through the pictures and imagine how things taste. I might have to do more imagining and less tasting with my new healthy heart goals. Are there ways to make wholesome tempting? That would be comforting!

Homework: Do any or all or be inspired.

~Suggest cookbooks, web-sites or blogs that promote a healthy lifestyle.

~Leave a heart-healthy tip in the comment section.

~Write a review of a favorite cookbook.

*If you do any part of this assignment on your blog, please link it back to TravelinOma and provide proper attribution. Leave a comment here (with a link to your homework if you want to share it) and/or a link to your blog (so we can get to know you.) School Days has open enrollment so join anytime. No make-up work required! If you're new, click here for an orientation.