5/31/2010 Not My Cousin Steve, God

*Shuffles in and flops on the couch
and blows nose*
Well Mr. Blog,
seeing Tom and Aimee last night helped my little heart.
I started feeling poorly again
from scrubbing gravestones in the drizzle
and missing mom and Lyle.
Ugh, Mr. Blog.
I was barely coping with my feelings
and getting all stuffed up all over again
and we got home at nine and I played the messages back
and was so distraught.
My cousin Debbie said her older brother,
my cousin Steve, passed away April 30th.
He was only sixty-three.
I felt like the floor
opened and swallowed me up.
We were all supposed to get old together Mr. Blog.
I mean, really old, like seventy.
He was so wonderful to all us bratty
little girl cousins when we were little.
All our Christmases in Auntie Ann and Uncle Dick's
huge hillside home in Laurelhurst
were wild, exciting fun times.
He and Larry were strapping, strong boys.
Steve wasten years older than me and starting
when we were four,
they would lay on their backs in the living room
in front of the Christmas tree
next to the warm fire
and they would balance us on the top
of their feet for hours!
They called it "The airplane ride
for the little bleeps."
They'd hold onto our hands for a bit and then
start swaying us wildly and eject us onto the rug.
My mom and aunties would all be in the kitchen
cooking and gabbing and Uncle Dick and Uncle Frank
would be in the arm chairs cracking nuts
at the other end of the living room.
Steve married a lovely girl, Bobbette DeButts
in a beautiful wedding at her parents
mansion above Lake Washington
and they moved off to Aniak Alaska
for three decades.
They had a son, Dillon and daughter Deidre.
We'd see them for weddings or the occasional
reunion and he was always the same tall,
handsome, warm and friend cousin
that I had known my entire life.

5/30/2010 The Scrubbing of the Gravestones

*Walks in tiredly and lies down*
Bleh Mr. Blog.
Good thing I feel better or I could have never
made it through today.
I felt pretty cheery to go to church
after missing the last two weeks.
I got to sit by Mary and my other
home girls, Char, Fran, Carol and the rest.
I can't believe I missed Pentacost last Sunday but I did.
Today was still Pentacost kick-off season
and they had extra music and singers and a band
and Steve Tarr and Laura Bolger did a great job.
It was good I felt cheery
because when I picked up my next-door neighbor,
Mabel, she was looking pretty sad.
We started at her daughter Donna's grave
in the Acacia children's section.
She lived from 1953 to 1957
and we both cried over her grave.
Mabel always likes to talk to her
and I don't mind.
Mabel was glad I brought SOS pads
because the marker was pretty dirty.
She had Leukemia before they invented treatments.
Then we moved on to Arky's parents
and his brother and wife Pauline's.
Arky was in the Coast Guard and got buried
at sea in a military service.
Mabel's mom had died when she was a girl
of fifteen still living on the farm in
Minnesota and her dad is buried back there too.
I scrubbed up all the Barmuta gravestones
while she fixed up all the flowers.
Mabel and I are such a good team.
We just kept working and
remembering everyone
and talking about them.
I asked one of the grounds men if
my Auntie Ann was there yet with
Uncle Dick and he said she was
still in the waiting room.
I was very sad because my Cousin Susie
has been very ill and I can't get her
or cousin Debbie on the phone.
We need to get Susie better before we
can have Auntie's service.
It just makes me so sad.
I loved my auntie.
Our last stop was Mom and Lyle's
grave up against the laurel hedge
at the top of the Birch garden.
I scrubbed and polished it up and was happy to see
that the people had finally put in their
in-ground flower vase after I reminded
them politely the last three years I visited.
Well, it was horrible Mr. Blog.
After four years of waiting for the vase,
It was jammed and wouldn't unscrew and pull out.
I tried to loosen it with my garden scissors for
ten minutes until my hands were red and aching.
Finally I squatted down and pulled with
all my strength and the vase didn't budge
but the entire earth around it gave way
and the holder that is supposed to stay
in the ground popped out and I staggered
and almost fell over backwards!
Thank goodness no one was around.
A grounds man came over and looked
at me questioningly and I just held it up
and said I was sorry.
He said I could just leave the flowers on the grass
and they'd take care of everything for me.
So, for the forth year in a row
I didn't get to put mummy's flowers
in her vase.
I can't tell you how relieved I was go get home
Mr. Blog! I told Terry what we did
and he said it was too sad to hear about.
I saw Tom Lambert had called and I was worried
someone had died, cause that's all I could think
about.
I called him and asked him if someone died and he said,
"Yes, but I don't know who, they do it all the time!"
Well he is right Mr. Blog and he got me laughing
and invited us down for a bar-b-q later.
Seeing my old friends Tom and Aimee always
cheers me up considerably
so I'll just take a nap
and try to recover a bit
and go get some,
"Friendship therapy."

5/29/2010 The Thing She Saw Before She Died

*Shuffles in stooped over holding back*
Ugh, Mr. Blog.
I hurt myself.
Climbed up in the giant recycle thing
and was holding the stair railing and jumping
up and down and felt my lower back go pop.
Mabel called at ten and said it was too cold
to go down to Acacia to visit all our dead relatives.
So I decided to work on the basement some more
and I was making good headway until I saw
the thing she saw before she died.
Oh Mr. Blog!
It was awful.
I made it myself for her wall in the nursing home.
I forgot all about it.
Every time sissy and I found mom a better place
I would carefully wrap it up.
It was a two by three foot piece of pink construction paper
and I had taped pictures of all our family trips
with her and Lyle
and me and Terry and the kids
all over it.
I had pictures of when I took the kids
to Disneyland with Strawberry on it.
I had taken red marking pens and drawn what
looked like conversation hearts all around the edges
with things like, "Be Sweet" and "I Love You"
inside them.
Ugh Mr Blog.
It was awful.
So when mummy was in hospice care up in
Maywood Hills, I put it on the wall of the
yellow death room in the basement.
I went that morning and
she was all doped up on morphine.
She looked pretty of all things.
Her eyes opened and she feebly raised her
arms.
I lay my head on her chest and said,
"I love you mummy."
And she said,
"I love you baby."
She patted my head and drifted off.
The lady called around two o'clock
and said she was gone.
Died in her sleep.

5/28/2010 I LOVE My New Tumblers!

*Walks in cheerfully and lies down*
Ahhhh Mr. Blog,
Nothing like feeling better after a cold.
I had the best time with Molly today!
I told you how I reconnected with her last summer.
Remember? Molly McLean? She was Val's best friend?
So she is up from Oregon and staying with her brother Marty
that lives over the hill from me in Kirkland
and I asked her yesterday if she might keep me
company shopping today.
Marty and his kids had to work today so she
came with me to Lake City Fred Meyers.
She is so funny and nice.
What we used to call, "Up front"
in the seventies.
The tumblers I saw with Patty last month were 30% off!!!
I had bought nine for Terry's party last weekend
and I told the man that it figured they'd go on sale right
after I bought them and he said to bring in the receipt
for a rebate. But you know what Mr. Blog?
I just don't care about that few dollars because
I LOVE LOVE LOVE my new tumblers!
Look. *pulls tumbler from tote bag and holds it up*
Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your life???
Think fast! *tosses it to him and it lands on the floor*
Sorry, that was mean.
I know you egg-head types aren't very coordinated.
I'm not either but look at that!
*Mr. Blog picks it up with a puzzled expression
and wonders how anyone can be so excited over a tumbler*
They are Kapoho blue!
God I love my new tumblers.
They really look like glass don't they?
The last time I bought new tumblers was in 1982
at JoAnn's Tupperware party.
I loved those tumblers but I only had one left
so it was time to move on.
I had been looking for the last five years
for new tumblers and
I just couldn't find what I wanted.
I like glass better and I always
say I can't have glass because of the kids
but I'm really the one that breaks everything
around here
because I hate housework
and I'm always
in a hurry.

5/29/2010 Jobitis or Joblessitis?

*Walks in and lies down on couch*
Well Mr. Blog,
I'm starting to perk up.
I don't ache all over anymore. Just stuffed up.
So I have been thinking all week about which is worse:
Jobitis or joblessitis?
When you have jobitis, you hate the job you have.
When you have joblessitis, you hate not having a job.
When I carried mail for the post office I had jobitis in a bad way.
I loved the actual work of carrying mail but I
hate, hate, hated getting up at five AM
to hit the time clock at six AM.
People would try to talk to me in the time clock line
and the best I could do was a soft grunt of hello.
Scott Erwin always called me Grouchen.
Most of my coworkers there were nice but the managers were awful.
The price of stamps could go down to a dime if they
removed the managers.
I was so close to going postal after a decade
of harassment you wouldn't believe it!
Every clerk and carrier at the post office
knows exactly what to do.
The mail comes in
the mail goes out.
They need to remove all the managers and save billions!
But anyway, I loved my route in Holly Hills and all my customers.
I always stood the mail up at an angle at the
FRONT of the mailbox so my customers
didn't have to brave the spiderwebs
to pull it out from the back.
Most men carriers are too lazy to do that.
They have long arms and just want the cash.
They just fling it in the box and drag-race on.
They don't even HAVE the empathy to know that the little
old ladies can barely reach to the back of the mailbox!
JoAnn and I were the fastest casers in the office
but it didn't matter because I talked too much.
I was always in the back office getting
scolded for talking too much.
Turns out men can't sort mail
and talk at the same time.
So they harrassed me half to death!
Well, when I was a flight attendant I
loved, loved, LOVED, serving people.
After a decade of listening to people whine
about their bills and junk mail
it was pretty darn heavenly
giving people drinks and snacks and food.
They loved that.
A few times I'd be with crews that liked to do
plane wide trivia games.
God that was fun!
We'd give out bottles of wine from first class
to the winners.
So, you know how bad I have joblessitis.
I was just used to feeling
like a productive member of society.
You know, I'm probably the only person in America
that LIKES to pay taxes.
I love America.
I love my freedom.
I love our roads and sewers and clean water.
I can go, right now, to my kitchen
and turn the spigot and get clean water!
How cool is that Mr. Blog?!
BUT, I don't like overpaying taxes and I
CAN'T STAND GOVERNMENT WASTE!
Like this new Kenmore Square plan.
The city could easily manage the retailers
and keep the leases down.
My friend, John the Jeweler, at
the Treasure Box told me last week
that the leases will go up when the remodel is
done and he'll have to leave!
I'm so hopping mad over that I could spit.
I would so grab a bunch of Z-Bricks
at Home Depot and spruce up those buildings
to match the new fancy-pants city hall myself
for free! I'd hire all the local
out of work contractors to toss up that Z-Brick
lickety-split and
save the taxpayers of Kenmore millions in taxes.
Well, Mr. Blog, what do you think is worse?
Having a job you hate or not having any job?
*Stares at him expectantly*

5/27/2010 The Miracle of Me

*Shuffles in blowing nose*
Ugh Mr. Blog.
Stupid spring cold.
Someone down the hall was saying yesterday that she thought
spring colds are the worst.
I think she is right. After careful consideration this is what I think.
In the spring, when you catch cold you feel miserable.
Then all the pollen is everywhere under the sun
and it makes you even more stuffed up.
Then it might be warmer so you do go outside and get in that pollen.
When the sun comes out you WANT to be outside so bad,
but you feel too poopy to even dress yourself.
So when I woke up, I was thinking about myself and how
I'll get over this cold.
I don't know much about white and red blood cells or
the immune system,
but I do know I'll get over this cold!
How amazing is that Mr. Blog?!
Sometimes I get mad that the pharmaceutical companies would
research a drug like Viagra
or a cure for weak bladder syndrome
instead of finding a cure for the common cold.
I could go on and on about that for hours.
But I don't want you to fall asleep.
I want you to know that I think the human body is
an amazing system.
I want you to know I think that God
helped design us
and that our bodies
are nothing short of a miracle.

5/26 The People Zoo The 41st U District Street Fair

*Slogs in and lies down*
Ugh Mr. Blog. Sick again. Five kids were sick
over at Green Pond elementary Monday.
They were hacking up all over the place. Bleh.
I can only describe the Street Fair as a people zoo.
I was stunned on arrival to park under my old church
to see the back walls of it covered with graffiti
and four homeless people sleeping there.
When our family joined UCC in the 1920s it was fairly new.
When my mom started taking me in 1956,
there was still a strong code of decency in the country.
Young people in the fifties were taught to respect their elders
and love their country.
I moved out of Seattle to Bothell in 1980, when Seattle
got too full and scary for me.
So I hadn't been to the street fair since 1972 when I was fourteen.
It was only one block long then and pretty crowded.
Now it is a bajillion blocks long but you would not
believe the fantastic infrastructure they have designed to
make it work!
It is like each block is its own street fair with staff.
So once I unloaded my stuff and parked I got to my booth
and being sick with the flu made everything seen awful.
The young drunk hanging around my booth was the epitome
of life in much of America.
Healthy, handsome and a waste of life.
Booze should so be eliminated Mr. Blog.
There is not one instance in my fifty-three years
where I have seen booze improve anyone,
especially myself.
If everyone could stop after one or two drinks it would be fine
but that is rarely the case.
So a staffer ran off my drunk
and I got set up
but I had such a headache
I should have just stayed home.
You know how when you don't feel good
everything irritates you?
Right as I finish setting up
I hear a loud, high-pitch warbling of
Yellow Submarine next to my booth.
The pretty thirtyish lady was draped in lovely
hippie drapes including a mesh veil from head to waist.
I would have gladly paid her twenty dollars to NOT SING.
It was like fingers grating on a chalkboard to my ears.
Normally I would have loved that and talked to her
but I was sick as a dog and could barely just sit there.
I also wouldn't have minded the zillion poop machines
that people led around on leashes for two days.
One tiny bug-eyed Boston Terrier did his job
next to my booth and the man
just walked away leaving me to clean up.
The mess was as big as the dog! UGH.
There was very little interest in my driving game
Mr. Blog and a dozen people said they would
buy it but they were jobless and broke, like me.
I notice half of those ladies went to Amy's booth
next door and bought earrings and peacock feather
hair decorations. Amy was honey on feet Mr. Blog.
She was vending solo too so we watched each other's booths
for restroom dashes. I was happy she had lots of sales
and was too sick to even muster jealousy Saturday.
But you know what Mr. Blog?
I saw someone I had been wishing to see since 1967.
I saw a lady my age walking past and she turned at an angle
and I automatically whispered, "Carol."
I thought NO WAY could it be her after all these years Mr. Blog.
She turned and I said, "It's me Carol. Gretchen Lehde."
She ran over and hugged me and it was like we were eleven again.
Right there on that sidewalk in the middle of a million
people, time stood still.
Then it spun backwards.
We were in her basement and we had on our long dresses
and all the little neighborhood kids were sitting
in rows in front of our little stage.
Her sister put the needle to the record
and flipped on the light switch
and we came up singing strong:
"Stop, in the name of love, before you break my heart..."
We WERE the Supremes Mr. Blog!
When we did, "Respect" you should have seen our dance moves.
We had synchronized steps and arm and hand movements
that would have got us on the Ed Sullivan show if
we had ever been discovered. *Smiles at the thought.*
We took a short intermission at the end of our Supremes
set and changed from gowns to polo t-shirts and cut-offs
for a few Beach Boys songs.
We sang all the greatest hits that summer in 1967
and closed every time with what we thought
was a song to inspire little kids by Three Dog Night called,
"One is the Loneliest Number."
Man we poured our little hearts out on that song!
The kids paid two bits each and we wanted repeat
business so we'd constantly work on new dance routines.
We made enough cash to walk to the corner store
on 27th and 65th NE to buy licorice and ice cream bars.
You know what Mr. Blog?
I made $80.00 in two days selling at that fair.
My booth fee was $250.00.
But I would have paid hundreds of dollars to find
Carol Greathouse!
She was as bubbly and effervescent as ever.
When they invented the internet a few years ago
and then Google, I tried to find her.
But I didn't know her married name.
Carol Greathouse Smith.
So now, when I feel better, I can't wait
to go to Everett and find out what the heck she
has been doing since 1967!
Marcia Proctor had warned me to be careful at the fair
and I did see some slightly unsavory-looking characters.
But I like people Mr. Blog.
I really do.
As long as they are nice to me.
Even the tattooed, pierced, mohawked people were
nice to me because I acknowledged them.
That is all most people want Mr. Blog.
To be acknowledged that you think they are valuable
because they are living, breathing people with hearts and souls.
On Sunday I felt a tiny bit better despite the vomit
I had to clean off the back of my tent
and I was SO DELIGHTED
to see Meagan Colella and her sons Chris and Michael.
We had one hundred and one fun scouting adventures together
with our sons. Meagan and I shared an evening of star-gazing
up at Camp Brinkly in 2006 after the little rascals went to sleep
that was one of those priceless moments in time
you wish you could just bottle up
to open when you are blue.
Sean Lettic wanted to hike to the top of the hill
and didn't want to go alone, so we went with him.
It was a warm summer night in July
and the meadow where the boys had field games daily
was deserted.
We laid down right smack dab in the middle of the field
on our backs.
The moon and stars were so bright you could see the
outline of the fir trees surrounding our sloped field.
All of a sudden there was a meteor shower!
We squealed like piglets at a trough with delight.
Well, Sean couldn't squeal because he is a man,
but Meagan and I sure did.
Then, after the meteor shower, there were
random shooting stars and satellites.
It was like the sky had lowered to
right above our faces.
And that was not all that lowered to our faces!
BATS! Huge bats woke up and started dive-bombing
the mosquitoes that were hungrily smelling us!
Meagan and I started screaming our heads off
and we grabbed Sean and yelled,
"Help! Help! Save Us!"
Then he started laughing really really hard
and we all jumped up and ran up to the road.
We ran into some people on the road and something funny happened
but I don't remember what. I'll find out.
So back to the fair Mr. Blog.
I was happy to see Stan Tappe, who was
a young clerk at the Bothell Post Office
when I transferred into there in 1980.
I wanted to say hi to his new wife but he couldn't find her.
I was saved by another scout mom, Joan Hardy,
who went and go me a cup of coffee that made it
possible to get through the last four hours of the fair.
She is like the nicest person in Kenmore.
I have never heard her say one bad word about anyone ever.
Good role model for me.
Then some brothers I knew from subbing at Arrowhead stopped
and recognized me and visited for a bit. That was nice.
So, despite feeling horrible Saturday,
and merely awful Sunday,
I stayed in my cage at the people zoo.
Thousands of people went past
and some looked at me
and others poked me and tried to get me to talk
and others threw peanuts at me.
And I smiled
and gawked back
and talked
and gave them their money's worth
to the best of my ability.

5/22/2010 Terry:This is Your Life, Turning 50

*Drags in and flops on couch*
It's so nice that you are here on days I feel poopy Mr. Blog.
Stupid cold.
This morning Terry finished his book that Steve McDannel got him
for his birthday. He was waxing poetic and acting all
kumbayaa and everything and I was really happy for him.
I had read the review on, "The Shack" a few weeks
ago and wishing I had cash for it cause is sounded really good.
Two months ago, Terry started getting really depressed.
I knew as a young man he wanted to be an airline pilot
and was even in the Civil Air Patrol as a teenager.
One person in that class was going to earn a full scholarship to
flight school and he got the second highest score.
Good, but not good enough to win the scholarship.
And his dream and aspirations died that day.
Very sad.
So anyway, two months ago he started talking about
turning fifty and getting more and more depressed.
He said at forty, you know your life is half over
but at fifty, you know you are going downhill.
Well yeah, Mr. Blog.
We are all going to die.
So I asked him if a party would help
because I noticed that he kept saying how much he missed
his old Ellensburg High School and WSU friends.
Well Mr. Blog.
People grow up and have families and move away.
That's what happens.
So he told me he didn't want a party and I immediately ignored
his wishes and started plotting a fiftieth birthday party
that would cheer him up.
I spent two weeks analyzing my husband and his deepest desires.
Then I typed up a flyer that said this:

Surprise Party for Toby
By a turn of shocking events, Terry got old
Come help him celebrate his fiftieth birthday
He is really blue and is it because:

A He has rowdy teenagers?
B He has an unemployed wife?
C He is starting his twenty-fifth year at the post office?
D All of the above?

There is only one way to find out!

Then I gave the date of May 22nd and the information for the party.
I dug around for addresses of all his old friends that he misses everyday. And I called his baby brother Ed's girlfriend and got her address and asked her to drag him down.
By a lucky turn of events Mr. Blog, Terry ended up scheduling Troy for his driving section of his driver's license that day! When he told me I had to take him because he had to work that day I made up some lame excuse that I couldn't do it. He was forced to use a day of vacation leave and planned to get a case and go but then decided to just take the day off. Hahahaha!
Now THERE is a miracle for you Mr. Blog!
So for a week before the party I had the excuse that I was planning a party to celebrate Troy getting his driver's license. I told him even if Troy flunked we had to eat anyway.
Now it is a rare day that being married to a clueless person is advantageous,
but this was certainly one of them!!!
I happily hauled in cakes and steaks and baked beans
and made potato salad and stacked up bags of chips and corn on the cob
and Terry NEVER noticed a thing.
He just thought I was being a good mom.
As if.
When Saturday rolled around and he went out to his lawn chair
at two, it didn't seem odd to him that is his step-brother Seth
and his girlfriend Kathryn would stop by at three.
We all sat in the yard until five and then came up to the
deck at five and had sodas and chips.
A small SUV pulled in and Terry got up and looked down in our
parking lot and said, "Hey, it's Todd and Theresa from Ellensburg.
That's nice, they must be on their way to Vashon to see her mom."
So Todd and Theresa came up on the deck and and just
happened to have two half racks of Bud, but Terry
still doesn't notice anything odd.
Well, at five-thirty, his college friend, Steve McDannel, pops in
and the jig was up. Steve got married and started a family ten years ago
and the last time we saw him was at his wedding!
They live clear down in Auburn Mr. Blog!
Soon after that Ed and Robin and Deano
and John and Karen all arrived and we had a wonderful
bar-b-que and ate out on the deck. Even his frat brother
Kris Lindor and his brother John stopped by on their way home to
Mount Vernon from visiting their family in Bend Oregon!
We hadn't seen them for about ten years either.
Everyone got along fine and
there were no fights or arguments.
Todd and Theresa were sleeping over and after
everyone took off at ten-thirty
we walked across the street to Mazatlan
Mexican restaurant and got a nice table in
the bar. There were only eight other people
there so Terry got to sing kareoke right away.
He sang me his favorite Elvis Pressley love songs,
"All Shook Up and My Little Teddy Bear."
He's a pretty awful singer Mr. Blog
but after ten years of kareoke, he is finally starting
to stay on key occasionally.
It's torturous to listen to most of the singers
but I had one margarita so my tolerance
rose to meet the occasion.
We left when they shut down at two AM
and walked across the highway home.
We were laughing and talking and Theresa
and I were arm-in-arm.
She is the most delightful person I ever met Mr. Blog.
Plus I noticed she had had about ten beers and although
she has an amazing tolerance to booze,
I was still a little concerned she might fall down.
Shocking as it may sound,
coming from the old lady that likes to go to bed
at seven PM and read for three hours,
we talked until three AM!
So Terry's fiftieth birthday
ended up a twelve hour affair.

5/22/2010 Punking The Momma

*Walks in and sits down*
Troy is so crafty.
He knew I'd be spying on him out the window
so he put on the frowny frowny face
and dragged in the house
and went in his room and closed the door.
So I went downstairs to ask Terry
and he said Troy only missed by one.
I went back upstairs and Troy was on the deck
leaning against the railing
looking down at the yard.
I came up behind him and rubbed his back and told him
it was okay and next time he'd do better.
He turned around holding his first driver's license
with a big smile
and I shrieked and jumped up and down
and told him he really punked me.
He said he knew I'd be spying on him and needed
to fake me out.
He said he got 95 out of 100 and aced
parallel parking in my giant mini-van.
Then I sat on the couch and he did a little
reenactment of the test which included
parallel parking and backing around a corner.
It was very cute and I hadn't been that happy
since Teddy got born.
Just a feeling of total elation
that my child
did a big achievement
on his own.

5/22/2010 Help! I Can't Breathe!

*Crawls in on hands and knees gasping for air and collapses on wood floor!
Help Mr. Blog! I can't breathe!
I need AIR!
*Mr. Blog opens file drawer on his large wooden desk
and lifts out a portable oxygen bottle and walks to her,
kneels down, puts the mask gently over her mouth and nose
and turns the dial to open the compressed oxygen*
Mumblewhispers through apparatus* Ahhh, thanks Mr. Blog.
*Lays on her back breathing in the mask for five minutes
then nudges the mask above her mouth so she can talk a little.*
Terry and Troy left two hours ago for Troy to take his driving
part of the driver's license test and I haven't breathed for two hours!
I have chest pains even though I know he's a good driver.
I mean, I taught him myself, designed and produced a driving
game just for him and he went to a driver's education class with Carlos.
I can't take the pressure!
I was standing in my kitchen window
waiting for my forest green mini-van to pull
up and trying to do dishes
and concentrate.
But I can't concentrate until they come back.
The suspense is killing me.
Hey, I've heard that saying a million times
and now I know EXACTLY what it feels like.
My photinia tree is growing out of control along
the edge of the driveway and from my kitchen
window, I can peer at where they will be parking the van
without them seeing me.
I'll know the minute they get out if he passed or not.
Neither of those two can play poker.
Their faces are always an open book of their emotions.
Well Mr. Blog.
I'm going to go stare out my window.
If he passed I'll see grins
and if he didn't I won't.
I'll tell you what I see when the door opens.
.....

5/21/2010 Infection of Electronic Games

*Walks in and sits on chair*
Good morning Mr. Blog.
I finally feel better for the first time in a week.
I was starting to think that I'd feel poorly permanently.
Well, last night Terry came upstairs right before the movie started
and said that the kids should have their X-Box back when school lets out.
Over my dead body.
No way am I letting my sons turning into
zombie shooting zombies again!
For the first time in months they got out Connect Four
and played and talked to each other.
Troy even hopped on a bus and visited new friends in Woodinville
yesterday and had the time of his life playing street football.
He hadn't unplugged from the games
for weeks.
I'm sorry Mr. Blog, but NO ONE is going to change my mind
on the evil of those violent video games.
You watch.
There will be more and more teen violence
to come.
Columbine was the tip of the iceberg for violence and hate
and I just refuse to be a part of it.
Terry will just have to accept that I won't have that evil in our home.
He doesn't have to like it,
he just has to do it.

5/20/2010 My Basement Cleaning Fiasco

*Walks in and plops on couch*
Geez Mr. Blog, you must be sick of me by now.
Things did not go as planned cleaning out my parent's stuff.
I had to move and sort some other things to get to the back of the basement
and it took me five hours just to get to the stuff.
Right when I was ready to dig in, I pulled a box off the top
of a shelf I was removing and an entire Sucrets box
fell and popped open.
You'll never guess what was inside Mr. Blog.
Straight pins!
And they went everywhere under the sun!
Covered a good six square feet.
By the time I picked up all the pins,
pricking myself frequently
'cause I was too lazy to put on my glasses;
it was one thirty and my friend Gretchen was
supposed to show up at one to help me.
I called her and she called me back and said she forgot.
Ugh.
I had four boxes of stuff for Saint Vinny's and loads of
stuff for the recycle and a little garbage and I decided to stop
and just clean the rest of the basement up to my folk's stuff.
I worked at top speed and do you know what my husband said
when he got home?!
"I'm sick of being broke...blah...blah...blah..."
Good grief Mr. Blog!
It was his stupid man cave I cleaned at top speed for eight hours!
Oh I was hopping mad at him.
No kiss, no hug, no "How was your day?" or "Thanks for cleaning."
Felt like baking those darn pins in a cake for him I was so mad.
But, I got over it and had fun watching a scary movie with the kids.
I am going to go hit my prayer bones now.
For a job interview for next year
and a job for my dear cousin Jorge.
He's been out of work two years now.
So sad. So sad.

5/20/2010 The X-Box 360 Has Left the Building

*Walks in slowly and lies down*
I'm back.
I got rid of the X-Box yesterday Mr. Blog.
Troy and Teddy had a fit
but what else is new?
Those games are plain evil.
I hope the designers rot in hell.
I took the system to a place that they can't access.
I told Teddy he can have it when he moves out.
Or he can sell it for cash to the pawn shop where he bought it.
I'm not living with that level of violence in my own home.
If there is one piece of advice I could give parents
it would be to never ever buy any kind of electronic gaming system.
Sure it's cute when they are playing Dora's Great Adventure
on a rainy day.
Next thing you know they are blasting Germans and Zombies
and god knows what else.
Seriously Mr. Blog
All that crap is evil.
My kids hate me
but, oh well.

5/20/2010 Dread for the Dead

*Walks in slowly with sad expression and lies down*
Hi Mr. Blog,
I'm cleaning my parent's stuff from my basement today.
I have tried every few years to do it.
But I would always start crying.
Seven year's ago mummy quit walking.
Pop put her in a nursing home with a cracker jack
rehabilitation center. He was so sure she would
recover and get going again.
Then he died.
My real dad was booted out when I was two
because he was a drunken wife-beater.
Lyle Durkin Sellards was everything I ever wanted
in a dad and more. He had fought his own demons
as a young dad and ended up divorced.
So mom and dad met and started dating in 1969.
Pam and I liked him right off the bat.
Strawberry had already moved out.
We had run off her boyfriends we didn't like for years.
But Lyle was perfect for mom and she was perfect for him.
When I got the call in early August of 2004
that he had been taken to Evergreen hospital,
in the middle of the night,
I freaked out.
I got called back at five AM that he was moved to Overlake.
So I zoomed down there while he was in surgery.
I knew he had a bad heart and
bad everything
from chain-smoking for fifty years.
Same as mom.
You smoke-
you lose.
The doctor came out and told me he had had surgery
and it was successful and he would be moved to the
recovery room in a few days.
They let me see him but I wish I hadn't.
He was everything I had ever wanted in a dad
since I was old enough to know what a dad was.
He was there.
He loved my mom.
That is all a good dad is.
There and loving the mommy.
I took Pam down when the day had gotten going.
The doctor said he would recover.
We went home.
He died that afternoon.
Another part of the heart blew out
and all the king's horses and all the king's men
couldn't put dad back together again.
So we cleaned out their house
and many boxes went to my basement.
It has been seven years Mr. Blog
and my new friend Gretchen is coming
to help me clean it out.
I dread it.

5/19/2010 Add 5LBS For Each Cookbook You Own

*Walks in and lies down*
I'm back again today to talk about food Mr. Blog.
Now that my hormones have stopped
my metabolism seems to have
ground to a halt,
I have noticed just losing ten pounds this year
made it easier to go up and down the stairs and
jump in and out of the car.
The snag is we have a culture where food is the integral part of
every celebration.
We are also a culture of instant gratification
and over-indulgence.
So I rarely cook.
I only cook to stay married.
At fifty-three, my college nutrition book says
I should only eat a thousand calories a day to maintain good health.
I gobble up that many calories just looking
at the evening TV commercials for:
Burger King, McDonalds, Olive Garden
and not to mention the ads for frozen pizza.
So a few years ago I noticed that I had gained
five pounds for each cookbook I owned
since getting married.
So I donated most of them to Saint Vinny's.
Now I just have the Joy of Cooking
that my mom gave me when I turned eighteen
and two Weight Watchers books that I have tried to use.
I have never followed a recipe exactly in my life anyway.
The more time I spent on recipes
and in the kitchen,
the fatter I got.
Then my ankles and knees started hurting
and I huffed and puffed walking up stairs.
Thanks for letting me get that off my chest Mr. Blog.
I feel better and just have to say the same thing over and over:
Eat less, move more. Eat less, move more.

5/19/2010 Boycott Stores That Sell Violent Video Games

*Walks in and lies down*
I'm still not feeling great Mr. Blog
but at least its quiet here at the house.
There will be pandemonium when the teens
get here and I find out I removed their X-Box 360.
All the games they play are violent and evil.
If you don't like screaming, crying and arguing,
don't have kids. If you give them what they want and it
is socially detrimental, you are raising brats no one will like.
So I'm removing the X Box. I told them over and over if I saw
violent stuff being played it would be removed.
I don't believe in threats.
I just give them warnings and then do the right thing.
All the games have done is made them mean and anti-social
and physically unfit.
Now I'm boycotting every single store that sells those games:
Walmart, Fred Meyers, Target.
If I wasn't so tired, I'd organize informational
picketing to force stores to stop selling that stuff.
Who cares if the kids want it?
They would also like to eat cups of sugar
if they could.
Has no one noticed that the world is getting too violent?
Well, at least I won't have it in my home.
What they do when they move out is their own business.

5/18/2010 Selling Out on Pass The Test ROTR

*Drags in and flops on couch*
Ugh Mr. Blog,
I still feel awful.
Achy achy tummy brakey.
So, I just finished packaging up six games
to mail off to the major toy companies tomorrow.
Terry's friend Mike Bellande told me three years
ago that cash for me would come from
creating and designing games,
not manufacturing and selling.
So off goes my first game,
Pass The Test, Rules of the Road.
I'm not real hopeful that the big boys will want it.
But at least it gave me something to do
while home sick.

5/14/10 Playground Spirit Quest at Meadowbrook Elementary

*Walks in and flops down*
Hi Mr. Blog, how are you?
My original lesson plan went fine this afternoon and the
weather was perfect for it.
Yesterday I read the fourth graders some books
about totem poles and told them
all about Native American Spirit Quests.
Well the Indians didn't put their individual quest animals
on totem poles and I explained to the kids that we
were mixing different elements of native life
and they were cool with that.
When they went to PE, I asked them to think about
their physicality while there and what animals they might
want to have enter them in spirit form.
When I picked them up for PE, I showed them the
construction paper totem pole I had made from my
spirit quest. An owl on top for the wisdom I
cherish and seek and an orca for the freedom to explore
and be in the water and a butterfly for the cheer
I usually feel inside myself most of the time.
When I took the kids outside it was probably the funniest thing
I have ever seen in my life.
I felt like a mom with twenty-five children!
They were running, jumping, hibernating, fighting and pretending
to fly all over the luscious green playground in the bright sun.
Twenty-five little voices were shouting at me from everywhere
at the same time, "LOOK AT ME MRS. NIXON!"
It was so wild you wouldn't have believed it if you saw it
Mr. Blog! I just laughed and laughed at those silly kids.
I really couldn't stop no matter how hard I tried.
After fifteen minutes, I rounded up my little charges
and got them back into their classroom.
They made stinking cute little totem poles
from brown construction paper
and glued them on light blue paper.
I was so cuted out I could barely stand it!
I stapled them out in the hall
and I hope their regular teacher doesn't mind.
I only used one staple so she could pull them off in
one minute if she didn't want them up.
Teachers are really freaky about their bulletin boards
and there is no consistency what soever regarding wall art.
Some teachers thrive on putting stuff up
and others just hate, hate, hate putting up anything.
Go figure.
Ciao!

5/12/10 The Cellular Memory of Toady

*Walks in and lies down*
Boy I'm starting to wear down Mr. Blog.
Lots to do for the working girl.
So Teddy came home today and I said,
"Anything new at school today Toady?"
And he said, "Mom! The weirdest thing happened in PE today.
I was playing softball and I hit a home run!"
Well Mr. Blog. How do you explain that?
The last time Teddy played was five years ago when he was in
third grade! Out of the blue, how could he hit a home run?
Did not his arms and legs remember how to play?
And what about riding a bicycle?
How could a person that hasn't ridden for ten years
get on a bicycle and ride?
It can't possibly all be stored in the brain.
The muscles and bones must have a cellular memory.
That's what I think Mr. Blog.

5/12/10 Friends, Lovers, Chocolate by Alexander McCall Smith

*Dances in to Iscaac Hayes blaring, "Heard it Through the Grapevine."
Good Morning Mr. Blog, how are you? Don't you LOVE this sun?!
*Stares at him and listens about his wife making him egg salad for lunch."
Well, that is just awesome Mr. Blog.
My kids and their pals LOVE egg salad.
I have to write that down.
*Writes, "Make sandwich mountain for kids with egg salad."
So I'm half done with, "Friends, Lovers, Chocolates."
I am so in love with Isabel Dalhousie, Cat and Jamie.
AND I have a huge crush on Tomasso.
It took me three chapters to get into "The Sunday Philosophy Club."
I just felt so cheap and dirty even opening it up.
Like Madame Ramotswe was going to jump out of my bedroom
closet and beat me with a broom with
Madame Matkutsi hot on her trail
ready to throw scalding tea water on me!
Yikes. Or as Charlie would say, "Ow!"
So, I had to fling my loyalty to Precious to the wind
and shift gears. Now I am so excited at the end of every
day to explore Scotland and the mysteries of
cellular memory with Isabel.
I had read about it and I follow the news on research
studies of telepathy and extrasensory perception.
When Kreskin came on TV in 1967, he created a huge stir.
So I want to tell you about my telepathic connection
with my best friend, Brenda June Vanderhoff.
One time, in 1987, we were playing a fairly new game
on the market called Pictionary.
I LOVE GAMES.
Anyway, we were in my tiny studio apartment in downtown
Bothell that got torn down to build the new Bothell library.
Terry's pal from Ellensburg high, Mike Bellande, had dropped in
and Brenda had too so I forced everyone to play Pictionary.
Brenda and I were on the same team and I got the word, "Chicago."
I quickly drew a rectangle. Nothing else.
Brenda instantly shouted out, "Chicago!"
Terry and Mike's jaws dropped to their knees
and they said what happened was impossible.
Then they accused us of cheating.
Well, I had not moved my lips and I had on my poker face.
*Shows Mr. Blog her completely neutral poker face*
So what do you make of that Mr. Blog?

5/11/10 WHY Did My Husband Move my Canoe Paddles?!

*Walks in with disgruntled expression and flops on her couch."
Ugh Mr. Blog,
Thank God you are here today.
So I go out of town a few days and when I come back
my canoe paddles have been removed from their rack
above the wood shelf in my utility room.
I ask Troy where they are and he said Terry moved them.
Why would he do that?
Doesn't he know that I hang all my laundry on the ends
of my canoe paddles?!
I'm sure most women do that.
So then I asked Terry this morning why he moved them
and he said Troy and his friends went canoeing and left them
by the boat in the yard.
Teens are such little liars.
Oh well, I'll just have to find them and drag them in.
I am subbing Thursday and Friday and when I finally
get to washing my fancy work blouses Monday
I'll have my errant canoe paddles
back to hang them up
to prevent wrinkles.
Ciao!

5/10/10 Doubting Thomas

*Walks in cheerfully and sits down*
Hi Mr. Blog. I had to come back and talk about
more worries. I feel better after remembering a time when I succeeded though.
I have been a Doubting Thomas lately. Or worse. I have been worrying that I'm going to lose Connie's friendship if I don't sell all my games this weekend and pay her back the money she loaned me for this first game. How stupid is that? If she didn't love me she would never have gotten involved in the first place right? It is my damn paranoia acting up again because she never returns my calls or e-mails. Those are normally the actions of a person breaking off a friendship but I don't think that is the case here. Everyone person I've ever mentioned to that Connie was my business partner has complained that she never returns phone calls. It's because she is Supermom Mr. Blog. I have never met anyone as devoted to her children. Makes me feel like a crappy mother in comparison but I am what God made me.
She is just too busy being an outstanding mom to call me!
I tell my sons every single day, "I love you and I'm proud of you." And Sara Schott Brown once told me when we took our kids to the zoo that you need to hug them every single day. So I do that too. I'm just not as maternalistic as Connie Mr. Blog.
But I try really hard to "mom" them but I'm not very good at it.
So right now, today, after talking to you I have new resolve.
I'm going to tackle the checklist I made last night.
I'm going to go to the fair and sell all 400 games that I packaged
and didn't sell at the Port Angeles Home Show.
That is what I am going to do!
Later Dude!

5/10/10 Panic Attack for Breakfast

*Walks in slowly and flops on couch*
Thank God you are here Mr. Blog.
I woke up with chest pains and short of breath
and sweating profusely. Of course the sweat was a hot flash
but the rest was awful. Felt like someone flattened
me with a hunk of 1" thick plywood.
So I did what Brenda always reminds me to do when
I have a panic attack.
I told myself to breathe.
So after I accepted I was alive and breathing
I started praying for a while.
I witnessed a miracle when my sister was scheduled
to die and didn't so I do believe in miracles.
I woke up seeing myself on a huge ship and it was sinking.
Everyone I knew was in round yellow lifeboats yelling at me,
"Jump! Jump!"
And I knew I SHOULD jump but that I wouldn't.
That if the USS NIXPIX went under
I would be clinging to the bow and go down with it.
I just don't give up Mr. Blog.
When I got turned down dozens of times over five years
trying to get hired as a flight attendant, I could overhear
nasty coworkers at the post office talking about how
stupid I was. You know what Mr. Blog?
I just didn't care what people said.
It did hurt my feelings and make me feel like a loser
but I got hired. It was something like my 31st try
and there I was in San Fransisco when the interviewers
said everyone could leave but the following people had
problems with their applications and needed to stay.
It was their code-talk for "You've been hired but
we don't want to crush the spirits of the other applicants."
And nobody knew how they felt not getting picked better
than I did. In 1987 only one applicant out of one hundred
got picked. It was quite the long shot to get that job.
But you know what Mr. Blog?
I did get hired.
I crammed so much fun into those eight years of flying it was criminal!
They used to call me, "Connie Continental."
I was obsessed with passing out pillows and blankets and magazines
and cooking the food to perfection
and picking up the trash swiftly so people could
get up and use the restroom.
My Buddy Bidder, Theresa used to tease me when we'd pick up
the trash together. I'd get all excited to clean the tray tables off
so people could relax and enjoy their flights and act promptly.
She'd always say, "Where's the fire Gretch?"
I'd laugh and laugh. She was such a card!
And I'd say right back,
"No one wants to look at garbage. Get moving over there!"
Then we would both always laugh and laugh and we couldn't stop.
I don't think I stopped laughing for eight years.
So back to today. Gee Mr. Blog, remember
laughing non-stop for eight years has me smiling again!
Look! *Turns to show him giant grin*
Hahahaha.
Ciao!

5/9/10 Mother's Day 2010

*Dashes in and perches on edge of chair*
Hi Mr. Blog!
I just finished bar-b-qued rib-eye steak that Terry made. I fixed the corn on the cob, watermelon and beans and for dessert: banana cream pie! Um, yum.
Terry got me some yellow tulips and Troy and Teddy got me the paper towels I requested. Troy decorated an old golf ball with a Mother's Day greeting and smiley face drawn on, a Nemo toy from the cereal box AND used raspberry lemonade chapstick. I have such great kids!
Many women bemoan the pain of childbirth but not me Mr. Blog!
My kids both had fat heads (like their dad) and I never dilated so I got C-sections and pain drugs BOTH times. Floaty, floaty...
I loved church this morning-loads of music with the butterfly four year old singers.
Seems like yesterday when Troy was in the Rainbow choir for three year olds!
There was a gospel group with a hot guitar and drum set, the bell choirs and group of singers with a violin cranking away in the background. I can't read music but I love to sing and listen to it. I'm so glad Pam found us a music based church. I love Bothell United Methodist Church.
Stephen Tarr did a knockdown sermon called, "The Founding Mothers." It was based on the story of Lydia. How she was a businesswoman of purple cloth and a civic leader. How she became a church leader. He went on about many historical women of substance including the birth of Bothell United Methodist Church and the women that donated the land and then he said, "Oh yes. And there was Alice Bothell. The woman that thought a church in town was a good idea." He has such a cunning delivery and charming way with words. AND there is still a trace of his Scottish accent which I love since I love all things global. Especially people on the globe. Well, I was completely inspired by his sermon and that's the point of going.
I helped my pals Brooks and JoAnn drive a van load of boxes to their new house after church.
When I got home just now and the kids gave me gifts I was so touched.
They are God's gift to me Mr. Blog. As a matter of fact, that is what Teddy's name means:
Theodore, gift from God. Theo=God+dore=gift. But both of them amaze me daily.
I thought you'd like to hear Teddy's poem Mr. Blog. He is such a sweety.

Mom
Thank you for doing
All the stuff you do.
From giving allowance,
To buying new shoes.
From giving reminders,
To sparing me a binder.
But I have to say,
I'm growing up fast
And soon I'll move out in a flash.
But for now I'm enjoying every day.
Because you're the best mother
In every way.
-Teddy

Time to chase the sun in my lounge chair. I love, love love sunshine!
Ciao!

5/8/2010 Mugo Pine Pollen Perfume

*Twirls in wearing red muu muu and pink flip flops*
Ahhh, Mr. Blog.
My trusted of trusted friends.
What a perfect day!
I found a lovely folding chair at Saint Vincent DePaul for $3.00!
Oh bargain of bargains! It has a super-cushy seat
that makes me ache for the fair!
That softness on my butt as I open sack after sack
of candy in the wee hours of the morning.
Softness that caresses me as I think of the smiling new and old faces
that I will see at the fair.
Happy smiles.
People like free candy.
So sissy went with me to the Juanita Row party store
and I found white plastic table clothing that is perfect
for the sides and back of my booth.
If I have time after set up, I'm adding a prototype display on one side.
So many prototypes, so little time.
Sissy and I had the most delightful Mexican lunch
at our favorite spot by the party store.
Then she helped me in the bright sun on my deck!
We repainted my entire NIXPIX sign and from a distance
no one will ever know it was made
from two sheets of cardboard joined with
automotive adhesive
and Mabel's yardsticks spray painted black.
The sun was hot and we played pop music
and watched with amusement as Teddy and Michael
jumped in the icy pool repeatedly.
Silly teenagers!
At three I grabbed my water and my new
Alexander McCall Smith book,
"The Sunday Philosophy Club"
and went to my drive way.
The sun was scrumptious!
The way only Seattle sun can be.
After months and months and months of gloom and cold
one day it is sunny.
The rest is forgotten like a bad boyfriend.
So, I had to move my lawn chair four times to stay in the sun.
But is was worth it.
I love my new book.
I didn't think I would.
It took me three chapters to fall in love, but I did.
I would love to meet Alexander McCall Smith
and hug him.
I would like to absorb his bad music
and love of loyalty
and wear his appreciation of morality for a dress.
It is a Godless, moraless, violent world now.
I hate it but my own sons
munch violence like potato chips with a
vigor and enjoyment.
So back to my perfume or
on to my perfume...
I sat under the Mugo pines with the pollen wafting down on me
and created the recipe for the perfect perfume I would wear.
Since menopause,
I can't stand any perfume of any kind whatsoever.
I used to love Chanel 22!
So here is what I would wear.
Mugo Pine Pollen Perfume Ingredients:
Mugo pine pollen
hot cat fur in the sun
sissy's bar-b-cued chicken from the Smokey Joe
suntanning flesh
lots of quality book paper
intellectual excitement (from my latest book)
Wall Street Journal
Lilac
and a dash of yellow spray paint (very small dash)
Doesn't that sound good Mr. Blog?
I'll bet you'd leave out the spray paint and put in cigars!
So thanks for letting me share that with you.
You're the best!
Later...

5/8/2010 U District Street Fair 2010

*Walks in slowly and lies down*
Ahhh, the sun is here Mr. Blog. Fianlly.
It cheers me in my time of panic.
The U District Street Fair is one week from today.
I haven't been to it since 1972 and it was only a few blocks long then.
Now it is five blocks long and there are hundreds of vendors and
a predicted shopping group of 50,000 people.
I'm a nervous wreck so I'm doing what I do best
under pressure.
Making check-lists and sorting and organizing
equipment so that I am totally prepared.
I'm off to take sissy to lunch and pick up a roll of
table clothing for the sides and back of my tent.
Thank goodness for the sunshine and blue sky.
Right Mr. Blog?
Ciao!

5/7/2010 R&D at Pahoa High

*Cartwheels in as her sixteen year old self wearing a pale pink leotard and tutu, runs and does three backflips and lands next to Mr. Blog, turns fifty-three again and hugs him gently before lying down*
Hi Mr. Blog!
Did you miss me?!
I sure missed you. I got really nervous before going into the high school to make an appointment with the driver's ed teacher for a meeting. I have gone to most of the community centers around Pahoa previously and left cards and met with office managers to generate business for Nixpix.
I had heard the students in the Hawaii public schools are unmotivated and that the public schools weren't very good. I have no idea if this is true or not.
I went to the Pahoa high school office Tuesday morning and the office manager
directed me to the room where they teach driver's education.
Before the trip I had removed the test question page numbers that correlate
to the Washington state driver's manual and added the Hawaii driver's manual that I had picked up last year. I think they are the only state that charges for the driver's manual and I had to pay five dollars at the Hilo Long's Drugstore for a copy.
It had something that the other manuals didn't have.
pages focusing on the colors of the signs and significance of knowing them.
That is very interesting and out of the dozen manuals I've read online and half dozen that people have mailed me, Hawaii is the only state with it shown so graphically.
The federal guidelines each state must incorporate must be in better alignment Mr. Blog.
Driving is way too dangerous for this piece-meal approach.
I should know! I read so many crash articles in the paper and online researching the first edition of the game that I was unable to drive without being terrified for a year!
So back to Pahoa. I found Mr. Suisui's room and talked to him about my game
and he said he was interested. I was very relieved!
I went back Thursday with the sample copy and he was in the middle of a class and I didn't want to disturb him. I saw three boys sitting on a staircase and sat my butt down and asked them if they were driving yet or not. One said he had his license and one said no and the last one said he drives without a license. That perked me right up and I asked them if I could show them my game. Nothing creates improvement better than hands-on feed-back Mr. Blog!
The boys were intrigued that I had created it for my own fifteen year old son.
Two of the boys were fifteen and one was sixteen. They liked the fact that
the rules and spinner were right on the game board. They were surprised to see the test questions under the flaps and more surprised that I had bought a Hawaiian driver's manual for cash and included it in the game. I was very very happy they would share their feedback with me. One unexpected aspect of this game is it promotes literacy in an unusual way. You HAVE to read the driver's manual to play the game and to eventually pass the test. Technical manuals are written in a factual adult-level reading format that many young people never are exposed.
While I have toyed with changing the national version to an online/phone ap game only, there is much merit for literacy enhancement for the hard copy game.
I mean think about it Mr. Blog. When you think of literary genres you think of
fiction, non-fiction, et cetera. But have you ever thought of technical reading
as a genre?
Neither has anyone else!
Yet, look at how much in our adult lives we need to follow manuals!
From assembling cheap bookcases from Target to our swing-set;
I had to read and follow directions from the manuals. Dry, factual texts
that enable you to create something from a pile of nuts and bolts!
Well, my brain is swimming thinking about all that Mr. Blog.
The important thing is the three boys at Pahoa high school
liked my game and wanted to play it.
And the biggest of the three wanted the Nixpix tee-shirt I offered
which means I now have another walking advertisement in Hawaii!
The boys were going to give the game to the driver's ed teachers
so that they could see how it worked for them.
I am waiting to get feed-back from them as to any
suggestions they might have for improvements.
Time to go work on my sign for the street fair next week.
Ciao Mr. Blog!