A few weeks ago, I posted a picture of my adorable toddler granddaughter, Emily (or as I like to call her, Pookie, AKA Horadora- short for Horrible Adorable).

I don't think her picture was up 15 minutes before my son was on the phone, asking me, nicely, to take it down. He was worried about having her sweet face out there in cyberspace.

I don't really think there is anything to fear in posting a picture on the web, but I immediately did as he asked. If he is afraid of potential kidnappers, who am I to argue? Maybe he's got something there. Maybe kidnappers ARE surfing the web. It makes you think, you know?

Makes me think it is time to post a picture of Mama.

Mama on her 78th birthday in May.

My new pirate identity (shhh, it's a secret)

It has been a pirate-y month for this ole scalawag, and while I have enjoyed all the fun and friviolity, I am a bit concerned that

1) I have been too much in the public eye, which is not good for a pirate, especially when that pirate is a pudgy, grey-headed middle-aged broad who's ruthless days are mostly behind her (as, by the look of her butt, most things are);

and

2) there's a very real chance my old crew-mates may now be able track me down, which would NOT be good because there was a slight disagreement about the redistribution of wealth the last time we met which, of course, I won. (I cheated ... Hello! Pirate!)

I will never renounce the name Red-Handed Jill (which I stole, like the good pirate I am, from someone else) but will now also have an alter- ego I can default to when the British Navy gets too close on my heels, or my crew insists on its share of the booty, or I decide to run for Governor. It's good to have choices.

My pirate name is:

Captain Anne Bonney

http://www.piratequiz.com/

There really was a Captain Ann Bonney, by the way. No relation to Billy the Kid. Or Billy Budd, for that matter. She's dead now. Her name is fair game.

Not a better daughter-in-law in the world... well, not in this hemisphere anyway... or the conflagration that was my 57th birthday

I had a three day birthday this year. My birthday was on September 12, but I worked all day and had my GFWC meeting that night, so planned no celebration. Besides, how celebratory can one be at 57? At least it is a memorable number. I was 55 (the speed limit) until I turned 57 (Heinz varieties) because I could not think of a memory device for 56. Turns out I did celebrate, because my Old Lady Mafia pals staged a surprise party with a pirate's theme for me at the Woman's Club. Great fun! On the 13th, Dave and I had a quiet celebration at home- we grilled steaks and fell asleep on the couch.

Will this gay, mad whirl never cease?! Tonight, my daughter-in-law arrived, kicked me out of the house for awhile, and continued the pirate theme in my diningroom. Then she made a fantastically delicious supper for us all, an Italianate chicken casserole, fresh hot rolls, a tossed salad, and a made from scratch cake, decorated with doubloons.... AND 57 CANDLES WHICH THE WENCH PROCEEDED TO LIGHT! I am amazed the smoke detectors didn't go off. It took three tries to blow the damn things out- I thought maybe they were trick candles, but by the time I was trying to blow them out, they were essentially one big, wide candle with 57 wicks. The cake was wonderful, and Pookie and I competed so see who could eat the most. Pookie won. All in all, a really wonderful birthday. I am posting a picture Dave took with his phone. It's not too clear, but clear enough, I think, for you to see the amount of heat 57 candles can generate. Now I must go put butter on my scorched nose.

Thanks, Becca. XX OO

And the results are in...

I'm a Mandarin!

You're an intellectual, and you've worked hard to get where you are now. You're a strong believer in education, and you think many of the world's problems could be solved if people were more informed and more rational. You have no tolerance for sloppy or lazy thinking. It frustrates you when people who are ignorant or dishonest rise to positions of power. You believe that people can make a difference in the world, and you're determined to try.

Talent: 46%
Lifer: 26%
Mandarin: 67%

Take the Talent, Lifer, or Mandarin quiz.

I'm a Porsche 911!

Take the Which Sports
Car Are You? quiz.

Three weeks in...

When I really don’t want to do something, I procrastinate.  At this very moment, I should be creating a PowerPoint presentation for my genetics class.  I am really enjoying my class, and have a wonderful, truly wonderful group of students.  I anticipate a very good semester with these young people.  I am enjoying being in front of a class again, refreshing my memory about my beloved subject, and remembering again just what it was that brought me to teaching the first time around.

It wasn’t creating PowerPoint presentations.  

Which is why I am blogging instead of slogging right now.  I will regret it.  I will push myself to the limits of deadline, I will be up until 4 o’clock in the morning, and I will not learn from past experience.

Sigh.

On the one hand, it has been gratifying to see how genuinely I have been missed at the college.  It has been lovely teaching again, and feeling like I have some cachet in the world.  A faculty parking hang tag does wonders for my self-esteem.  I am in the system again; I have an email that ends with .edu; I have access to the faculty web; I have a cubicle with my name on it.  (Actually, the sign reads “Kate Lapczynski, Resident Queen of Genetics”- and I didn’t post it!)  All of this is so seductive to me.

On the other hand, it is  aggravating that after two years away, many of the things that made my going away fairly easy in the first place are basically unchanged.  The administration is still calling students our “customers”… (excuse me, but isn’t the customer always right?  Because my students aren’t.  If they are customers- not clients, even, but customers- doesn’t that make us merchants?  And if we are merchants, just what is it we are selling?  Knowledge, or college credits? )  … there is little to no respect afforded the faculty… attempts to use technology are thwarted by failure of the technology, and the apparent inability of the IT people to make it work consistently… moral is low… pay is low…  

And I gave up scrapbooking for THIS?

Fortunately, one can bear anything for 15 weeks.  Except, maybe, Mother.  I am not sure I will maintain my fragile sanity through 15 uninterrupted weeks with Mother.  It’s me, really. She is what she is and what she has been and is incapable of change, and it is I who needs to maintain an even strain.  Of course, going deaf and blind would help, but what are the odds of that happening?

At least Dave is home for a week or two, just long enough to screw up the dynamics here, but not long enough to settle comfortably into greased grooves.  Soon he’s off to New York and then to San Diego.  

I will be here.

Kelly's blog is worth $500 more than mine... whew!

My blog is worth $1,129.08.
How much is your blog worth?