Cutting the Cord, Part IV: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

We set up and tested our antenna today. On the roof (with Joe holding it at the peak and pointing it roughly toward Philly ... it turns out we don't own a compass), we received all the stations we could expect to.

However, we're hoping for an attic-mount situation. We have a lot of trees and don't fancy the fall leaf drop tangling around our antenna, or the antenna getting smacked regularly by falling twigs and branches. So, we moved the antenna to our bedroom (right below the attic but WAAAAY easier to get to) and scanned for channels again. Fewer and with significantly lower quality.

We've decided to give the poor struggling antenna some help. We've just ordered a pre-amplifier and a tuner. Some additional amplification should help out a lot, as should tuning the signal close to the antenna, rather than running the signal through (literally) fifty feet of coax before it's tuned at the DVR-PC.

Lots of high hopes and optimism tempered with some disappointment that it didn't work out just the way we wanted to as-is. Depending on shipping speeds, we should be ready to test things again this weekend.

Total Cutting the Cord Expenses to Date: $62 for the new remote, and $30 for the USB tuner stick. $0 for trial memberships for Hulu-plus and Playon. The antenna cost $119.99. Add another $133.66 to the bill for the pre-amp and tuner. Total out-of-pocket expenses thus far:$345.65. Roughly 4 months without Comcast to recoup that.

--End--

Many Things to Do

We have a lot of catching up to do today. The downside of taking a vacation.

Speaking of which ... a wonderful time was had by all on our recent weekend in the Poconos. We were there Thursday through Sunday and were joined Friday through Sunday by our college friends, Adrienne (of martinimade.com) and Scott and their kids. We rambled around the lake, threw the kids in the lake and onto the playground, and played lots and lots of games. Thumbs up for Munchkin, Castle Panic and Forbidden Island, not so much for Castle Keep ... but maybe we were doing it wrong. The kids ran around, got on each other's nerves, or alternately became friends and got along great, were adorable and funny, played Xbox, and had a great time, too. We also ate a lot. But, that seems to be what happens at the Mountain House.

So, today: the catching up. Coupon clipping and organizing, shopping lists, pre-trip laundry to put away, post-trip laundry to do, piano practicing, vacuuming, job searching and applying, Emily's trip photos to process (I'm only about 20% done...yeesh), exercising, Fiddler on the Roof-ing.

In other words, a Monday.

[UPDATE 9:55 a.m.] I've applied to nine actual job postings and cold emailed four other schools just to put my name in front of them. I've also printed a slew of coupons and refined this week's coupon shopping list. The kids have accomplished approximately bupkus. I think I'm finally ready to get up from the computer for awhile.

--End--

Cutting the Cord, Part III: Signal Acquired!

We received our KWorld USB tuner stick, which comes with a little-bitty ATSC antenna. We happen to already have 50' of coax cable lying around (we seem to have only 18" patch cords and one unreasonably long 50' cable). So, when the tuner stick arrived, I immediately tried it out.

First I installed the stick and accompanying software on my computer. Everything went smoothly, but the antenna was unable to detect any signals. This was not surprising. Our computer room (and TV-viewing family room) is located on the lowest level of our split-level house, and therefore is half underground. Antenna height was approximately 3-feet off the ground. Woefully inadequate to reach the broadcast towers 30-50 miles away. (According to AntennaPoint, we have 14 UHF transmitters within 60 miles of us, ranging from 130 to 770kW, covering CBS, 2 NBCs, 2 PBSes, FOX, Telemundo, Univision, Ion, MyTV, ETV, The CW Network, and "Independent." So, all the major networks except ABC ... which we can stream through Huku. Another 20 miles adds 5 more stations, but that seems unlikely, despite the antenna's claims.)

As I saw how the install would work and that was really my main objective, I uninstalled it. When Joe got home we installed it again, but this time on the DVR-PC, which is where we plan to keep it. We ran the 50' of cable out the window and up a ladder, where Joe held it up on the highest point of the roof (approximately 28' above the ground). The auto-search channel scan picked up one signal from Wildwood (WMGM, NBC-40, 205kW) and one from Philadelphia (WCAU, NBC-10, 320kW). But the stick would only actually tune in the Wildwood station. The image was periodically steady and then very jerky, but I think that's a processor or RAM problem.

Looks pretty impressive, no?

Since achieved a signal with the rinky-dink antenna (I haven't been able to find information regarding its gain), we decided the over-the-air option has real possibilities. After browsing around and reading reviews, we ordered the Antennas Direct DB8 model from Best Buy. It was cheaper through Amazon, but we decided it's worth the extra bucks to have our local bricks and mortar Best Buy available to us for questions, servicing, and easy return, if need be. We're very optimistic about the stations we'll be able to receive with this bad boy. Reviewers in Maryland report receiving Philly stations quite clearly.

We plan to mount the antenna in the attic, and should it receive the stations we expect it to, we may also opt to purchase the HD HomeRun tuner, and return the USB stick. This would act as a tuner up in the attic, closing the lengthy gap between the antenna and tuner. Then we'd run network cable from the tuner down to the computer. The device is compatible with the SageTV software we're already using for DVR purposes, so ... sweet. Sounds like a plan, but we'll see.

Should we receive a CBS station clearly, this would eliminate one of the biggest gaps served by our Playon subscription. We'd still have a few holes in our current viewing habits to do without, or fill, but Playon wasn't going to help much with those options anyway (Food Network, Discovery channel, AMC, Nick).

Stay tuned ... the big antenna is due to arrive any day now.

--End--

Interviewing for a Job

First off, this is not one of those "How To" blog posts. This will not tell you how to write a resume, remind you to floss and use mouthwash prior to meeting a potential employer, or give you tips on how to best answer interview questions.

Rather, this will be categorical. Should you once have interviewed me and you think you recognize yourself, you don't. All accounts are humorously fictionalized, and all names, dates and locations have been removed. I have also merged events together. This last item is not due to a desire to make interviews seem more action-packed or interesting, instead it is the result of a 40-year old brain trying to recall what has surely been at least eighty (this is not an exaggerated number) job interviews over the past eighteen years.

1. Great, kid. Don't get cocky.
These are the interview experiences you hope and pray for. Your driving directions are accurate and you arrive the requisitely early-but-not-too-early time prior to your scheduled interview. You walk in feeling great, immediately forge a personal connection with at least one of the interviewers as well as the receptionist in the lobby -- a shared love of quirky earrings or lavender-scented handcream, perhaps. You confidently and enthusiastically respond to each question, remaining on point and even manage to earn a chuckle or two. The interviewer even begins using the word "you"  and "will" rather than "would" when referring to the person who will eventually get the job. As in, "How will you manage student behavior in your classroom?" or "How will you handle multiple assignments in a timely fashion in our department?" You leave the meeting feeling triumphant, sweat-free and ready to take on the world. You begin mental salary and benefits negotiations and note the Starbucks and Walgreens locations along your eventual commute.

Why you don't get this job: the employer actually has someone else in mind before placing the ad and just has to go through the motions or a job search and/or you are the right race, gender, age, etc to fit the location's demographic needs.

2. I Have a Very Bad Feeling About This.
This is the opposite situation, altogether. You feel unprepared, so much so that you very nearly call and cancel the appointment. Immediately before the interview, for which you are arriving exactly on time, or even a minute or two late (later than five minutes late is unthinkable), you realize one or more of the following: you have a substantial run in your nylons, you have broken the heel of your shoe, your nail polish is glaringly chipped, you have a stain on your necktie/shirt/lapel/pants (!!!), and that you have forgotten to write down the suite number you're looking for in the ginormous office complex in front of you. As you make your way toward the receptionist, you feel as though every part of your brain has suddenly forgotten everything it has ever known. Flopsweat doesn't even begin to describe it. Not only do you fail to adequately answer the interview questions, you forget your main points you'd meant to shoehorn in somewhere. When asked to tell the group about yourself, you ramble aimlessly through a list of reasons why you're no longer at your last four employers. No one smiles, makes eye contact or even looks up from their designated list of questions. Upon leaving, you thank Janice for meeting with you and she politely corrects you, "Rhonda."

Why you don't get this job: Really?

3. These aren't the droids you're looking for.
This interview may start out like glowing example #1, but at some point shades of #2 kick in as you realize you are completely unqualified or otherwise inappropriate for the position in question. You continue to politely answer questions and rather than lie through your teeth, blatantly admit that you have no experience in the area in question. You brazen through with examples of quick-thinking, on-the-job learning and other shining moments of your brilliance and creativity. After all, a job is a job, and if you manage to whangle your way into this one, you can always look for something more appropriate, right? Sometimes you manage to forge a great connection with your interviewers, but more often you feel as though they are speaking Portuguese (this example assumes an utter lack of fluency in Portuguese). While continuing to forge ahead, part of your mental process is continually asking some form of, "Why am I here?!?" or even "Did they even read my resume?!?"

Why you didn't get this job: Because you're 100% wrong for it and always were. Alternately, this is the job you are most likely to get. It will be awkward and uncomfortable and you will struggle madly to succeed. In the job offer phone call there will be some mention of how you will bring your unique viewpoint to the position. This is not true. They really want you to fit their existing mold as soon as possible.

--End--

ps. Today's interview? Very much #3. I remain unsettled.

Cutting the Cord, Part II: Baby Steps

So, based on our media history and habits (see yesterday's post), we've pretty much decided to try to go Comcast-free (saving us $88 per month).

The questions that remain are:

1. Which online providers can get us the shows we're accustomed to watching?
2. How do we get these shows to our TV?
3. Is there a solution for sports, particularly the NFL?

So, I tackled these one at a time. I wrote down a list of all the shows we'd asked our Comcast DVR to record (30 of them, ranging from Mad Men to Restaurant: Impossible to Mythbusters), added in the  few shows the kids like to just flip through and watch (iCarly and Spongebob, primarily). Then I browsed lists on Netflix, Hulu, Hulu-Plus, and Playon.^[1] I wanted to see where we'd get the best bang for our buck.

Each has its own strengths and areas of specialization.

Netflix is still mostly about DVDs. The shows they have available are generally released one season at a time when the season comes out on DVD. I expect this to change and for more streaming content to become available. They already have some shows that are available soon after network broadcast. Programming is provided commercial-free.

Hulu provides full episodes of ABC, NBC, and Fox programming, plus a variety of other clips and videos. 5 or so episodes of these shows are generally available within 24 hours of initial network broadcast. Hulu-plus is a premium (paid) version that provides whole back seasons of the same shows, as well as some additional shows (some of which are Hulu-Plus-only shows). The programming has limited commercial interruption.

Playon is a content provider that basically lets the end-user access and view video available on a variety of Internet sources, re-encoded for viewing on a TV. The Playon folks are not creating or storing any content, that I can tell. Rather, the software provides access to programming already accessible on the Web, bringing a bunch of portals (CBS, YouTube, ESPN, Pandora, to name a few) together in one interface. It requires a Windows PC and some sort of media device to bring the info from the PC to the TV. There are stand-alone devices for this purpose (for example, my brother bought a Western Digital Life Hub). We can do this through our Xbox 360^[2].

Our existing Netflix account could provide a decent amount of what we wanted, and Hulu (I like the backlog access of Hulu-Plus, myself, since we don't always get around to watching a show, but then catch up weeks at a time all at once.) provides most of everything else. CBS and the Food Network are prominent holes in this Venn Diagram of available content. So I signed up for an account, and examined Playon more closely. CBS content is readily available. Food Network content (like all content through Playon) is limited to whatever programming is available on the Food Network website. Some of our favorite shows don't exist there except as clips (Chopped comes to mind). Plus, Food Network isn't a regular part of Playon content. It's available as a plugin or add-on script, which means it may or may not work at any given time. Not ideal.

Plus, now that we can try it out, we've discovered that Playon won't stream smoothly through our DVR-PC. The old machine just isn't powerful enough to handle it. In fact, my PC is only just barely able to meet Playon's minimum requirements. I don't really want to run Playon through my machine because it means leaving an additional PC powered up all day (in addition to the DVR), and it saps nearly all available resources from my PC. Should I become gainfully employed sometime soon, maybe a nice powerful quad-core is in my future, but until then any Playon streaming renders my system otherwise inoperable. The additional cost of a PC just to run Playon through seems silly.

Which brings me to issue #3. What about sports? As football, is our chief concern here, I examined the Eagles 2011 season schedule, and all but two of their games are on regular over-the-air network stations. This raises the question of sticking a good old-fashioned physical antenna up on our roof. Granted, we are nearly 50 miles from the Philadelphia network broadcast towers, but those aren't rinky-dink small-town broadcasts, either. Philly is a big city with big city media^[3]. So, we're going to test out our physical digital reception.

After spending some time over on Antenna Web, I felt much more informed about our over-the-air options. I ordered a KWorld USB TV tuner stick and when it comes we're going to run it up the flagpole and see if anybody salutes. (not literally, as we don't have that kind of flagpole, but we will try in the attic, on the roof, etc) If it works at all for any programming, we'll go over to our local Best Buy and buy a medium directional antenna, and a pre-amplifier, as recommended for our address by Antenna Web. If the tuner stick doesn't work at all, I'm only out $30. And if the higher-powered antenna and pre-amplifier don't work, I'll simply return them to my local bricks and mortar store. But if we get a clean digital signal, we'll be set for the football games and for the CBS shows not provided on Hulu or in a timely fashion on Netflix, without having to spend additional money on Playon. The ESPN and NFLNetwork games (one game each this year) will just provided excuses for us to take the family to the nearest sports-themed restaurant or to go over to a friend's house for the game.

Plus ... there's a back-up plan (for NFL content, at least). DirecTV now has multi-platform licensing for their NFL Season Pass^[4]. A DirecTV subscription isn't necessary. For around $350 (sources vary), we can stream all of the NFL games for the whole season through our computer to our TV. There's only limited delay capabilities (reportedly 15 minutes of pause), but the feed would be complete and clear and unaffected by weather conditions. And $350 is still WAY less than the $97.90 per month for Comcast TV times the six months of football season ($587.40).

SOOO purty!

To facilitate the big switchover, we've also ordered a Logitech Harmony 650 remote. This will allow us to control our TV, DVR-PC, Xbox 360 and eventual other add-ons. It cost $62.17 from an Amazon seller. When it arrives, I'll have a fun time setting it up and programming it, I'm sure. Since our Comcast remote will have to go back to the company when we eventually cancel the service, it seems a good time to consolidate our remaining Firefly DVR-PC remote and Xbox 360 controller-as-remote (for Netflix and Hulu-Plus) situation.

So, at this point I'm really hoping the antenna option gets us at least the basic network feeds. Then the old DVR can still give us timeshifting capabilites and we can cancel our Playon membership before the trial period ends.

As for the Food Network? I don't know. Maybe we'll just minimize our DVR software and watch the full episode streams from the website through our DVR computer. Maybe I'll have to pirate some episodes now and then. Maybe we'll do without cooking shows. (say it ain't so, Joe!)

Cutting the Cord Expenses to Date: $62 for the new remote, and $30 for the USB tuner stick. $0 for trial memberships for Hulu-plus and Playon. Still paying for full Comcast TV and Internet. Total OOP: $92. Recoup time: 1.05 months without Comcast TV.

When the antenna situation gets going, I'll update. Similarly with the nifty new remote.

--End--

^1.We already subscribed to Netflix streaming + 1 DVD/month $8.99/month plan. Hulu is free. Hulu-Plus is $7.99/month. Playon is $4.99/month, $39.99/year or $79.99 for "lifetime."

^2.Well, why didn't you list that among our assets in the first place?

^3.I don't really know what I'm talking about or how these numbers compare to any others. But, logic dictates that Philly is a giant media market and will broadcast accordingly. KYW-DT (CBS) runs at 770 kw. WXTF-DT (FOX) is currently running at 305 kw. WCAU-DT (NBC) runs at 112 kw.

^4.NBC has multiplatform licensing for their NFL broadcasts, too. Apparently they're allowed to live-stream the games on their website. Three Eagles games this season are on NBC.

Cutting the Cord, Part I: History

Thanks in part to my brother's inspiration, Joe and I are finally attempting to cut the coaxial umbilical of cable television. Over the years, as we've watched our Comcast bill mount, we've researched various online media options. We've never liked feeling beholden to the media "man." Years before it became a popular* thing to do, we got a Tivo and hacked the remote to start skipping commercials. Then, in 2005, when Tivo seemed to be getting too Big Brothery, and rumors about embedded commercials and code preventing skipping became increasingly prevalent, before it, too, became a popular^[1] thing to do, we built our own SageTV based DVR computer. Freedom!

We had all the hard drive space we could ever want (75GB! Holy Cow!), tons of power (Pentium 4! 2.0 GHz! Wow!), dual Hauppauge tuners, and a nifty Firefly xml-programmable remote. We customized the Sage software with a number of add-ons and skins and so forth, and programmed the remote to suit our needs. (Yes, I learned some minor xml coding!) We plugged in our analog Comcast signal and were good to go. The system was streamlined and gorgeous and did everything we wanted it to. We later upgraded it with a 1TB external drive (for storage of ripped DVDs, home movies, downloaded programming)

Then came the big 2009 Analog Signal Drop by Comcast. They decided to go all digital. "OK, no problem," we thought, "We'll simply get a new digital tuner card for the DVR and go happily on out merry way." No dice. The digital tuner card required a PCI-E slot, which would require us to get a new motherboard, and effectively, build a whole new computer. As I'd just lost my full-time teaching position, this was a no-go.

So, we buckled back under to The Man. We subscribed to Comcast's digital cable/DVR service. The Sage-PC was kept as an additional input on the TV, so we could continue to access the TB drive. It was not an ideal solution, but it worked for awhile.

Eventually, our introductory rate ended and the prices went up to their normal level. We struggled through several months before a friend mentioned that he'd called Comcast and complained and been put on a discount/introductory plan. I did the same and got us 6 months of cheaper rates. Whew! This deal expired last April, on my birthday, oddly enough.

In the meantime, we'd expanded our media capabilities by purchasing an Xbox 360 (winter of 09-10). This gave us access to Netflix programming on our TV. We subscribed to Netflix about a year ago, but just dropped the 1-DVD a month portion when the company raised their rates. We've kept the $7.99/month streaming service. This comes right through the Xbox and is quite slick and painless. Around this same time, we ditched our brand-new-in-2002 Samsung DVD-VCR combo, as the kids had long since finally outgrown our few remaining children's videos. The 360 works great as a DVD player for us.

So, we have three inputs into our TV (a 36" Sony Wega CRT-monitor^[2] for those keeping score at home)

Since then, the TV portion of our Comcast bill^[3] has been roughly $98 per month. If we drop the TV, and keep only the Internet service, the Internet service will go up a little bit. But, by dropping the television, we can save $1055 per year.

That's a pretty big incentive to DO SOMETHING.

So, we evaluated our options:

1. Illegally download all programming we'd ordinarily been recording (29 network and cable shows). We decided against this option due to the illegality of it, and the time-consuming task of finding and downloading 23+ hours of programming every week).
   
2. Continue to pay Comcast. Wrong answer.
   
3. Drop Comcast and begin watching Internet programming exclusively. Hulu, Netflix and Playon proved excellent content coverage and availability. Seems like a no-brainer.

BUT....

And this is a relatively big BUT. What about sports?

We aren't rabid sports watchers here, but the various pro sports are something we want to continue to have access to. Joe records and watches a dozen or so Phillies games each season, plus a handful each of the Flyers and the Sixers (teams OWNED by Comcast). But the major sticking point has always been the Eagles. Joe is a big Eagles fan, and over the years of our marriage, we have built a tradition/culture around watching the games on a time-shifted delay.^[4] I make nachos, ribs, wings, etc. We invite people over. The kids are really starting to get into recognizing the players and understanding the flow of the game. How can we watch football without cable?

We've finally come across two possible solutions. One is less expensive, albeit iffy, and the other is a sure thing, but lacks time-shifting capabilities and is expensive. We're going to try #1 first. But, that brings us up to the present. As this post is about the history of this endeavor, I'll continue more tomorrow.

--End--

^1. except among serious techie-media nerds

^2. We also use Comcast for our cable-broadband. We like this service and its speed, and plan to continue using it. At least until affordable 4G personal hotspots become affordable. Or FIOS comes to town.

^3. Yes, I know. Flat panel. LCD, etc. Well, when we bought this beast (shipping weight 270 lbs), there was still lots of debate over LCD vs. Plasma, and neither option was terribly affordable. But, seriously, this TV is a beast. We love the picture quality and so forth, but the thing has required jacks to prop up the center of the solid-oak entertainment center my dad (who builds things super solidly) built.

^4. We shift starting our viewing by an hour or two, granting us the freedom to replay plays as often as we'd like, and the ability to skip commercials, talking heads and quarter and half-time breaks.

Back on the Wagon

This is me ... only, you know, female.

Or is it "off the wagon?" Which one means that you screwed up, but you're fixing it? "Fell off the wagon" means you started drinking (smoking/gambling/name your vice) again, right?

In any case, I started running again today. I stopped when I traveled to my parents' house for a week about a month ago (speedy packing=lack of sports bra ... dang, but I hate jiggling). And then when I got back there was the rush to get Emily ready for her trip to the UK (I know!). And now, well, it's like an inferno outside even at 7 a.m. (see previous post). Although, I am on week 4 of the 100 pushup plan (plus, I'm also doing the 200 crunches (not sit-ups ... I can't even do ONE sit-up. Pathetic!), and 200 squats) Joe has kept up with it and it starting to have some really obvious results. He's noticeably trimmer.

Not me. I'm not noticeably anything better. Well, there is a bit more definition in my upper arms, which is always a nice thing.

So, back to the drawing board. I downloaded some apps (because, honestly, what's not better with the addition of touch-screen technology?), namely: iTrackBites, TargetWeight, and iTreadmill, as well as Robert Ullrey's Couch to 5K podcasts. OK, to be fair, I'd previously downloaded some of these, but had failed to set them up and actually customize them to be usable for me.

'Cause it's all about me.

I aim to finish the Couch to 5K program this time (I got up to a verrrry slow week 4 last time). This time I'm using my treadmill and setting a faster pace (3.5 mph for walking, 6mph for the jogging). Yeah, I was even slower than that the last time around.

So, here goes ... thirty pounds to lose, working toward a 5K run (not that I've registered for one ... yet). And, it's official, since, I've blogged it, right?

--End--

Weather: Heat Wave

It's been hot here in SoJo. I mean, not exclusively here. It's been hot all over the place. I give credit where it is due. We're no Death Valley or anything.

But I have to admit, part of my brain reels, "Really?!?" when the forecast shows not cooling temperatures, but that it's going to get Even. Hotter. Tomorrow.

I have one of those little weather bug thingies on my Firefox browser. In the bottom right-hand corner of my window, Accu-Weather provides me with symbols cluing me in to the weather (as though the 6'x4' window roughly eighteen-inches to my left can't do that).


It's a pretty nifty gizmo, all told. Mouse-over access to weather radar maps, and weather alerts, and clickable access to an hourly forecast and 5-day forecast. Plus, there are icons representing the weather now, later and tomorrow, with mouse-over details. I'm pretty familiar with most of the little icons. There's a sunshine, a sunshine behind a cloud, a cloud, a lightning-storm cloud, etc. (I get especially giddy when the snow icons pop up in the toolbar!)

Anyway, looking ahead to tomorrow ... there's a flaming red thermometer icon. I don't know if I've ever seen this one before. It's rather threatening. My mouse-over tells me that we're expecting high temps around 96°F, with a heat index (like reverse wind chill, right?) of ... 109°F. 109? Really? (for perspective, Death Valley is supposed to have a high of 117°F tomorrow)

109.

109. Unreal.

May I just say how grateful I am for air-conditioning?

[UPDATE] Friday's terrifying little red, flaming thermometer has now appeared on my toolbar. 99°F with a heat index of 117°F. Did someone relocate my house to Uganda when I wasn't looking? Actually, it's only going to be 84° in Uganda on Friday. And, the hottest place on Earth (according to a not-at-all-exhaustive-Google), Wadi Halfa in the Sudan, is going to be 108° on Friday. That beats South Jersey by 9°. I would feel better about that, but the Sudan has a dry heat, resulting in a heat index of "only" 102° versus our 117°.

117.

--End--

Best Laid Plans

The day dawned somewhat grey and hazy. It's that time of year ... when it hasn't rained quite often enough for clear blue skies and breezy mornings with puffy white clouds. Still, it was warm and pleasant enough, particularly from the loveseat in my air-conditioned living room. The third day of summer vacation was rife with possibilities!

But first, the morning routine. Things progressed smoothly enough. After getting dressed and having breakfast, the kids each have to complete a page in their Summer Bridge workbook*, read for half an hour**, practice their piano lessons, clean up their rooms, and complete a chore of my choosing; tasks they may complete in any order. Emily was well into checking the third or fourth item off her list while Matthew was still in his PJs. At least he'd finished his Raisin Bran and had cleared his place at the table.

As for me, I was running through my morning apps routine. Email: check. Words with Friends: check. LivingSocial and Groupon: check. Time to move to the PC to print out some interesting coupons and quickly surf through to my favorite sites. I finished catching up with martinimade (hi, Adrienne!) and pointed my browser over to see if there were any new pictures of my nephew and niece (hi, Nate and Rachel!). Then Matthew came into the computer room.

My Mom radar went off immediately. Quick! Run the child diagnostic. Cheerfulness: absent. Complexion: bloodless. Worry-lines: prominent. Ruh-roh!

Then he spoke, "Mom, I don't feel so good."
Mom, "What kind of not good?"
He, "Like I think I'm gonna throw up."
Mom, "Like maybe sometime later throw up, or like right now gonna throw up?"
He, "Urk."

He made it to the bathroom, thank God. When he was done, he kept apologizing yet was proud of not having ruined the carpeting. I gave him the hugs he deserved both in comfort and appreciation.

So, BRAT diet for him (even though Wikipedia tells me it's no longer necessarily recommended). And couch-potato TV-day for all of us.

The good news is that he's pinked up, had no additional bouts of sickness, and is starting to regain a touch of appetite.

Maybe tomorrow we'll make it off the couch.

--End--

* Sorry, kids, but you're the children of educators.
** Ditto.

First Day of Summer Vacation

This is the kids' first real day of summer vacation. Friday was their last day and somehow the weekend doesn't count as much.

I always have such high hopes for summer vacation -- that the kids will still keep reasonable sleeping hours, that they will use some of their extra time to get in additional piano practicing, that we'll visit zoos, museums, parks; that we'll take long walks by lakes and skip stones or something. In other words, that we fill the days with summery activities and educational opportunities and family time and visiting friends and not spend most of our time in front of a screen of some sort or bickering with each other.

Here's hopin', right?

--End--

Braggity-brag-brag-bragging

Sorry, everyone, I am utterly shocked and blown away and cannot resist posting this out there for the world to see.

Phrases my professor used with regard to my work this semester: This is awesome! .... I especially appreciated your overarching argument ....Your writing is particularly noteworthy for how every paragraph advances the central point in a new way .... Similarly, your reading is apt .... stunning and new ... brilliant .... glorious details .... I was really intrigued .... juicy, amazing tidbits .... solid and welcome participation .... pleasure working with you.

In all fairness, please note that this was tempered with: the latter portions lost some inertia--probably the result of time limits or fatigue .... I would have suggested a reorganization of the paper .... the paper needed a firmer thesis .... without adding up to a central argument to take away .... the conclusion was sort of unstable .... The paper made me think a lot, but I'd rather the paper think for me.

Still -- thrilled! A for the course.

--End--

Public Apology to My Neighbors

Dear Neighbor,

No, not you, the other one ... the one with the immaculate landscaping and country club fairway lawn.

I see the time and energy you put into your yard. You own just about every home landscaping tool there is. I didn't even know what that thing was for until I saw you cleaning out the expansion joints in your flawlessly unstained concrete driveway. I never knew how the Major Leagues trimmed those symmetrical, geometric patterns into their outfields until I saw you doing it to your acreage. On his first effort with our push mower, my son attempted to carve his initials into our front yard. That attention to detail should count for something, shouldn't it?

I imagine that you read Better Homes and Gardens religiously and spend your spare time watching shows like Curb Appeal. You undoubtedly glance over at my property and wonder what our proximity is doing to your potential resale value.

Not that our yard is a disaster, mind you. Honestly, it could be worse. There, there, neighbor, try not to think about that particular possibility.

I'm sorry that my kids sometimes leave toys out. They really do know better, and I have reminded them ad nauseum. "When you're done playing with something, put it away." Really, I do.

I'm sorry that there are weeds and patchy brown spots in my yard. I know it used to look greener and lusher over here. But, we decided for financial and environmental reasons to forgo the professional lawn chemical services a few years ago. Apparently paying my daughter a nickel for every dandelion she decapitates prior to the seed phase isn't really a completely effective eradication technique. Plus, with the well we had to put in late last summer ... well, there are certainly some patches of my yard that more closely resemble the Grand Canyon State than the Garden State.

As for the flowerbeds? Well, I decided a long time ago that perennials were the way to go. Annuals stay fun and bloomy all summer, but it seems such a waste to plant things that only last one season. And with the abundant shade from our oak trees, it seems kind of pointless to get anything to bloom and grow after mid-May. Spring bulbs and early blooming perennials are more my laissez-faire cup of tea. But I do sincerely apologize for failing to mulch since the last summer Olympics or so. I know it makes for a weedy, rocky, dirty backdrop for whatever manages to grow in my heavily compacted and unenriched soil, but mulching just isn't very high on what we want to spend our time and money on these days.

So, while we're pretty diligent about keeping the grass mowed and trimmed, you can't expect much else from us, neighbor. We promise never to have a broken-down Pinto sitting out on blocks. We promise never to let wind-blown litter collect in our azaleas (or anywhere else). We promise to keep the kid-clutter to a minimum.

But, we're never going to measure up. If your immaculate carpet of verdant glory is par, then we're maybe going to see a double-bogey on a very, very good day.

I'm sorry. I really am. But, look at it this way ... the state of our lawn just makes yours look all that much better!

Humbly,
--Heidi

Conclusions

1. I don't make millions as a blogger nor do I appear on The Today Show and The View shilling my latest books nor do I even have any books to promote nor do I have crafters and so forth sending me free goodies so that I can promote them on my blog.

2. This may be due to the fact that I blog very erratically.

3. Or perhaps that I when I do, it's not about anything particularly a) interesting, b) insightful, or c) humorous.

4. I wish I did, though. I want to be one of those blogger women who develops a following and receives actual blog comments.

5. #4 would happen if I worked harder on #3.


Hmmm ... something to think about.

I was getting a reasonably good response (on Facebook anyway) with my Public Apology series. Let's get back to that.

--End--

Dear Santa

Hand-written letter handed to me this evening by my daughter who does not technically believe in Santa any more (grammar, wording, spelling, and footnote are all hers), following a day in which she and Matthew decided to save up for a keeshond puppy (our Sasha is a not-quite-four-year-old keeshond), and Joe and I told them that we would not be getting a puppy:

Dear Santa,

The things I want for Christmas are as follows. First I want, if you don't mind, about four feet of snow! I know weather really isn't your "thing" but I figure if anyone can get me what I want for Christmas it would be you! I mean, four feet of snow isn't really somthing you can bye at a store, if you know what I mean! Secondly I would like to have a keeshond puppy. I think you would know what a keeshond is from all of your *traveling. I know that I have very strange Christmas wishes. Most kids ask for a Wii or I-pod Touch but I ask for snow and a dog! I might be crazy but I am completely sane when I say that I only want these things.

Yours hopefully,

Emily Dugan

P.S. I'm sorry if I've spelled anything wrong.

* On Christmas Eve

My Public Apology to Baby Jesus

Dear Baby Jesus,

I know you're the "reason for the season." I understand that Advent is meant to be a time to gather one's thoughts and prepare for the coming of the Christ, both in our lizard-brain collective memory as well as for the Final coming. However, I just can't help myself but get all caught up in the trivial commercialized modern-day traditional trappings of Christmastime.

I love planning just what presents to buy, picking them out, wrapping them, placing them under the tree. I simply adore wandering through a few dozen acres of conifers looking for just the perfectly-sized, perfectly-shaped, perfectly-verdant Douglas fir. I drool over Martha Stewart holiday crafts and seasonal recipes. I DVR all the Christmas specials, even the ones I already own on DVD (which is many, many of them). I love a giant Christmas morning brunch, an even bigger ham dinner, platters of Christmas cookies, egg nog! I love labeling, writing, addressing, folding, stickering, and mailing dozens upon dozens of Christmas cards. I giggle and grin at the ever-more-Griswoldian Christmas light display in our yard and on our house.

I just love all the fun stuff and hustle and bustle that comes along with Christmas.

Sure, we have multiple nativity sets around the house, mixed in with the Santas and the snowmen. Sure, we attend Sunday church services, sing in the choir, and pray regularly.

But, somehow, the real true meaning of Christmas for me isn't really the birth of the Savior so much as it is a celebration of Family, of togetherness, of creating and maintaining traditions for our kids. I know those are all virtuous things, but I cannot help feeling more than a little angsty and guilt-ridden for not feeling that light-from-within feeling that so many of my friends seem to find so readily. And in all this creating- and passing-on of traditions, am I really neglecting the most important one of all?

I'm sorry, Baby Jesus, for not putting you first this holiday. I'm going to try to make a better effort this year and to really think about the real gift we all received You and Your Father. And, regardless of whether it really happened in December or not, celebrate You this season.

Humbly,
--Heidi

Almost Done!

Not to freak you out or anything.

Well, a little maybe. Hee-hee! Sorry.

Anyway, I'm gloating a wee, tiny bit because I'm very nearly done. All the Christmas shopping I can do by myself as been finished, and Joe and I took the kids out today to buy for each other and the opposite parent. Joe and I still have to go out for goodies for the kids Advent Countdown giftbags* and Joe's and the kids' stockings**.

Adding to that, the outside of the house is mostly decorated, as well. The lights are on the roof, the lights are everywhere, really. The wreaths and gardland are hung. Even the candy cans lane is running across the front yard. We haven't turned anything on yet (we're not that freakish), but it seemed we should take advantage of the mild weather we've been having.

This quick week will fly by and then our biggest holiday traditions of all will be upon us. After giving thanks with Joe's family, we'll return home for the Millville holiday parade (YAY!). Then on Sunday, we'll select, cut down and decorate our tree, as well as the rest of the interior of the house (decorating, that is ... we won't be selecting or cutting down a new interior).

Other holiday traditions around here: annually ordering beef-stick, cheese spread and baklava squares from Figis. An occasional December dinner will consist of these goodies, Triscuits, egg nog, apple cider and Christmas cookies. Yeah, baby!

We're bummed about not hosting a Christmas party this year, but when under-employed one has to cut corners where one reasonably can. Hopefully we can have some friends over now and then throughout the season.

Our biggest objective this year is to slow down and enjoy the holiday and each other's company more. Traditional celebrations, board games, food. That sort of thing. I'll let you know how that pans out. In the meantime ... I'm (almost) DONE!

--End--

* We do something vaguely like this, but instead with craft-paper giftbags that sit along the knee-wall ledge in our family room. Each morning of December (yes, I know Advent starts on November 28 this year), the kids may open a bag to find some spare change, a little candy, or a small trinkety toy (like we really need more of those around the house). Small potatoes, really, but the kids love it.

** The jig is up at Chez Dugan regarding Santa. We've come to the general consensus that Santa is an idea or spirit or mood that comes into fruition on Christmas Eve and that we can all enjoy sharing goodwill, generosity, and so forth by being Santas for each other.

Halloween Fun

Joe and I were invited to participate in a lovely Halloween event yesterday. We were cast as Mary Shelley and Dr. Frankenstein's monster (click for a video clip taken by a local reporter). There were a bunch of others from Mystic Realms acting other parts and performing various literature-based Halloween stories, with moral lessons for the kiddos. Ours was sharing and friendship. In the video, the monster was making friends by sharing (albeit reluctantly) some candy. This gallery has some more pictures from the event (I can't get the gallery to work except in Internet Explorer). I've posted the gallery pics* of us in this post, but if you want to see some others (mixed in with some Trick-or-Treating pics around the area), feel free to click through

It was a gorgeous day to be outside and Joe was an amazing entertainer. He had hordes of kids following him around, playing with him, giving him hugs. I felt like a Disney World costumed character handler. We had the best time!

--End--

ps. For the record, as he's not in any of these pics, Matthew was Obi-Wan Kenobi. :)

* Thank you to The Daily Journal.com.

A Flibbertigibbet, a Will-o-the-Wisp, a Clown!

We had the best time last night!*

We drove up to Cherry Hill to attend a movie event: The Sing-Along Sound of Music!

The theatre had a pretty good-sized crowd in it, and they were an animated bunch. Somehow the liberty of singing along also gives people the freedom to cheer (the marionettes), laugh (Maria and the children falling in the lake), comment snarkily (the Baroness) throughout the film.

The movie was wonderful, of course. I'd never before seen it on a big screen. It was an amazing and wonderful experience. When the camera finishes swooping through Austria, turns a corner in the Alps, and I finally caught a glimpse of a tiny Julie Andrews, I gasped and actually teared up a little. The feeling was akin to the sensation I got hearing the 20th Century Fox fanfare at the re-release of episode IV of Star Wars. The film's been super mega digitally restored, in both sound and picture. The detail and colors were stunning.

The sing-along words at the bottom were occasionally distracting (in the super close-up of Maria's face during "Something Good," the words were scrawled across her chin), but overall is was a fantastic experience. Matthew has spent all morning singing "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?"

If ever there's a re-showing of this event in your area, do it, do it, do it!

--End--

*Sadly, the mood is significantly bleaker this morning. It was a late outing for a school night. And, the combination of Joe's head/chest congestion and the humid clamminess everywhere resulting in nightmares,** so it was approximately the worst no-infants-in-the-house night's sleep we've ever had.

** Which included a gasping-startle-awake followed by grabbing Joe and frantically whispering, "There's someone in the house!" Which led to him jumping out of bed like I'd dumped ice water on him. Several quiet and terrifying moments later, he returned to give the all-clear. But his adrenaline-fueled body was miles from sleep and he decided to just stay up at that point (roughly 5:30 a.m.).

Crafty Update

The Mary Shelley jacket is complete. It's a bit snugger through the upper arms than I wuld like and is a bit more bolero styled than I would normally prefer, but I think those are simply due to the style of the jacket. It's not like I'm going to just wear it out and about, so I'm not concerned. It's not bad enought that I'm going to bust through the princess seams, Hulk-style, so no real worries. Hopefully, I get some pics of it this afternoon.

The repurposed sweater blanket(s) proceed(s) apace. I have an enormous stack of sweaters now. I have felted (fulled) them and cut them apart. Ribbed hems, cuffs and collars have been removed, as well as button/zipper plackets on the cardigans. I've also cut the components apart at the seams. My rotary cutter should come from Amazon today and then we'll be in business.

Finally, I almost forgot one additional project. I know! I purchased fabric last night for Matthew's Halloween costume. He's going to be a Jedi (old school with the brown robe and beigey undertunic). The deal is that I make the costume while Joe has to make the light saber. I have the much simpler deal, though I think I shortchanged myself a bit on the fabric, so I'm not sure we have a hooded robe in our future. Matthew's knowledge of Jedis consists of one viewing of the original Star Wars, about two years ago, and extensive playing of Lego:Star Wars on the Xbox, so I'm not sure he'll even notice the absence of a hood.

I feel so dang crafty/productive lately. Pics soon, I promise.

To tide you over:

A turkey I knitted last fall

and, a sweater I made for my niece, Rachel.

--End--

Just Crafty Stuff

Have nearly finished making an awesome Victorian-esque jacket for my Halloween costume (using the view in the upper right corner, View A). I'll be gracing the Wheaton Arts Halloween Trick-or-Treat-a-ganza as Mary Shelley. Joe will be my Frankenstein's monster. We'll be spreading lessons of friendship along with our sugary treats.

Knitting this afghan. Twelve squares (out of forty-eight) done. Using a neutral fisherman cream color.

Finished: a hat for my nephew. Knitting a matching sweater, like this, but in grey, red and green.

Also in the works is a felted wool quilt/blanket. Repurposing and home-felting wool sweaters from Goodwill. Yeah!

--End--

ps. Pics of my actual progress to be posted when the light is good enough to get some nice images.

My Public Apology to Spring, Summer and Winter

Dear Seasons That Are Not Fall*,

You got nothin'. I love Fall. Love it, love it, love it! And there are a number of ways you simply don't measure up to the glory of Fall.

Let's see ... weather. Spring, you can be very pleasant here in South Jersey. In fact, I've never enjoyed you even half as much as I do here. Your flowering bulbs, your hints of warm breezes, your sunshine and lengthening hours of daylight. Yeah, they're all terrific. Summer, fuhgeddaboudit. I don't like hot. I don't like humid. I don't like biting and stinging insects (which, let's face it ... in South Jersey droves of mosquitos almost count as their own weather patterns). You have them all. In spades. No dice. Winter. Well, you're close. In some parts of the country. If I can have snow and crisp blue skies and icy cold air that makes the inside of my nose crinkle up when I step outside, then you're the Best. But, otherwise? With the grey and the sleet and the freezing rain. No thank you.

But fall? Your crisp, cool sleep-with-the-windows-open nights. Your bright, sunny, bluer-than-blue skies. The absolute drop in moisture content of the air? Oh, yeah. That's what I'm talking about.

How about activities? Spring, well you have Easter and taking walks outside after being cooped up all winter long. But, you also have filing 1040 forms and piles of yard work. Not gonna cut it. Summer? You have plenty to do. Beach, Boardwalk, camping. But with the heat, the humidity and the bugs you make any of those activities akin to torture. I don't like hot. I don't like sticky. I don't like itchy. And on a slightly related note, I don't like sand and grittiness. You do have minor league baseball, which is almost enough by itself to redeem you. Almost. Winter, you have plenty of fun things to do, too. Provided that I lived somewhere with lots of snow. And hills. Which I don't. Sleet, freezing rain and flat terrain do not for a fun-filled winter make.

Fall wins it by several lengths with its leaf pile romping, football games, school activities, baseball playoffs, costuming, pumpkining.

Let's get down to brass tacks, though. A big hunk of this decision comes down to fashion and body image. I love fall clothes. I adore jackets, corduroy, plaid, argyle, jeans, short skirts with opaque tights. Giant winter sweaters and snow/slush boots, not so much. Light and floaty summer dresses, I don't think so. Pale pastel spring frocks? Definitely not. I want to cover up enough of my body to disguise its middle aged lumps and sags. And I want to cuddle up in cozy fabrics that aren't completely bulky and shapeless.

Fall, you got it all.

Sorry to the rest of you. Better luck next time,
--Heidi

* Not "autumn," unless referring to the equinox.

Life in the Fast Lane

Dugan Family Activities this Fall

Joe: teaching full-time at Cumberland County College, spending one day a week doing Doctoral Math stuff at Drexel (an hour+ away), singing in the church choir, starting a new bicycling exercise regimen, parenting (especially full-time on Thursday nights when I have class)

Emily: starting at the middle school for the first time (6th grade), band (French horn), chorus, GT, Girl Scouts, piano lessons, church choir

Matthew: fourth grade, football practicing and games, piano lessons, starting band for the first time (baritone horn), Cub Scouts, church choir

Myself: teaching very-nearly-full-time at Cumberland County College, starting my Master's in English Lit at Rutgers-Camden (an hour away), Ticket Chair for Cumberland Players theatre company, church choir, trying to walk Matthew to school more days than not (2 miles one way), parenting (especially full-time when Joe has classes ('til 5pm most days, 'til 10pm Mondays and Wednesdays))

We're busy. However, in our spare time (read: when the homework, music practice and grading is all done), we like to:

• read (especially Emily, especially kid fantasy-type novels like Harry Potter et al; Matthew's more into magazines; as for Joe & I ... we only wish we had time to read for fun at the moment. We're pretty much stuck in textbook land.), 
• play computer games (everyone...Xbox (Lego Rock Band for all of us, Lego Harry Potter, Star Wars and/or Indiana Jones for the kids) and the computer (lately Caesar 3 is the game of choice for the whole family)), 
• knit (just me...working on an afghan)
• play (mostly with the dog in some wrestly format or another)
• watch TV (Between the Eagles and the new seasons, the DVR is busy with shows too many and varied to list; that's a whole 'nother blog post)

I don't claim we're any busier than anyone else. I just wish that my favorite time of the year by leaps and bounds allowed me enough free time to actually enjoy it that way I'd like to. It always bums me out when another fall has slid into the grey twilight season of pre-winter and I've missed the whole crisp, sunny, colorful thing.

--End--

Podcasting

It may seem as though I'm coming late to the whole Podcasting game, but this is actually more of a second-go-'round. I've tried Podcasting a few things in the past, but found that I never had even half the time necessary to listen to all the stuff rapidly filling up my iTunes folders.

So, now I'm commuting to Rutgers-Camden once a week for my Master's course. (hopefully in this future this will read "courses," as in plural) On the way up, it's All Things Considered, baby, but on the way home, I just don't have the patience for flipping stations through the songs I don't like to find the songs I do like (Ben-FM out of Philly wins most times, for those of you keeping score at home ... but after years and years of DVR-ing TV, I've lost all patience whatsoever for radio commercial breaks.). I'm also hoping to do more walking/listening to my iPod and less walking/talking on the phone ... kinda trying to wean myself off my cell phone, as that may soon become an expense I can no longer afford, but that's a whole 'nother blog post.

Consequently, I'm back to podcasting. So far I've subscribed to way more than I can possibly listen to. Here we go again. But, I'm in the trying-it-out-and-then-winnowing-out-the-chaff phase. I have mostly NPR: Science Friday, On the Media, The Weekend Edition Sunday Puzzle, RadioLab, All Songs Considered, Only a Game, and the 90-Second Naturalist. Other than that, there are a few from HowStuffWorks.com: Stuff You Should Know, Stuff You Missed in History Class, Tech Stuff, and Stuff From the Science Lab.

I'd love something literature-based (the Master's will be in English lit, specializing in British 18th Century and earlier, generally ... American lit pre-Civil War I can tolerate, as well as a bit of other European lits no later than mid-19th century ... but I'll be focusing, scholastically on the Brits). Even book reviews, though I never have time to read a book these days. Knitting, theatre and travel are other topics of interest.

Anyway, have any ideas for me???? Puh-leeeze? Let me know what's on your mobile media device.

Thanks!

--End--

FUNNY!

Thanks, Adrienne! This cracked me up. A lot. I even read it out loud to my mom. Who kinda didn't get it, over the phone and all. But .... FUNNY! Earned the blog a spot on my links.

--End--

My Public Apology to My Skin

Dear Skin,

Sure, I know you're the "largest organ in [my] body." I learned that little tricky tidbit ages ago from some snide classmate quizzing me on trivia in order to show up one of the gifted kids.* I know that there are some very simple ways to nurture you.

1. Drink lots of water. I try to. I go through nice long habit-forming streaks of filling a gallon jug with water in the morning and working to polish it off by bedtime. It goes great while it lasts. Though I'm not sure it lasts long enough to make any real difference to you.
2. Get plenty of sleep. I'm a mother and a wife. That's all I'm going to say on that point.
3. Don't pop pimples. Seriously? Everyone ignores this one. And everyone pretends they adhere to it vigorously and that they're grossed out by everyone else's popping. OK, maybe we all ignore it and yet are also grossed out by everyone else.
   
4. Avoid touching your face with your hands. Wha? Like I should wear gloves when I touch my own face? Not lean on my left hand while I surf the Nets? Not rub my eyes (please see #2)? Not pop pimples? (Oh, wait. Right.)
   
5. Keep hair away from your face. I wear bangs to cover my ridiculously high forehead. Always will. Deal with it.
6. Wear sunblock and sunglasses all the frakking time. All right, I paraphrased that one. But it's all right, because this one I'm actually now pretty good about. I have major glare issues in my eyes the last few years. I keep spare pairs of sunglasses everywhere and wear them unless it's actually the dead of night. And I keep sunblock in my house, my purse, and my car and apply it generously.
   

However, there's nothing in my routine that I'd call a skin-care regimen. I use whatever body gel they have on sale at Target that doesn't "smell too girly" (Joe and I share). I use Clinique's Dramatically Different Moisturizer on my face when it feels tight across my cheeks (which probably already means it's too late). But that's pretty much it.

I mean well, skin. I really do have good intentions. I buy luxurious Bath & Body Works body creams and use them diligently for about a week after I get them. You drink in the moisture and revel while it lasts, I'm sure. I buy grape seed masks and enjoy the peel-away-the-gross-ick-from-my-pores feeling on a regular basis until company comes over. Then everything on the bathroom counter gets tidied into cupboards to be forgotten. I'm a big proponent/victim of that whole out-of-sight-out-of-mind thing.

I buy my Clinique moisturizer during Bonus Time so I can get sample sizes of all the new and latest technologically advanced skin-care goos, creams and gels. I use them for a few days and pretend I can already see how youthfully glowing you have become. But then ennui or fatigue or amnesia sets in and stuff gets shoved aside and forgotten.

If you weren't already so good to me, skin, maybe I'd take more care of you. But you've always been rather clear and youthful. Recently I'm beginning to realize that your pale creaminess** is becoming increasingly marred with freckles I've never seen before, scars of baking accidents long past, and *gasp* wrinkles that don't subside when my facial expressions do. In a middle- and high-school world of girls with great hair, great legs, great teeth, great boobs, "I'd kill to have great skin like yours!" always seemed like the Miss Congeniality award of teen beauty.

I suspect that taking care of you is rather a too-little-too-late proposition at this point. But I'm going to give it a go. For real this time. Honest. I'm going to drag out all the bottles, tubs, jars and tubes, check all the expiration dates, and use all those products like the love child of Ponce de Leon and Nicholas Flamel and stick to a regimen for once.

Sure I will. Until company comes over.

I'm sorry, skin.
--Heidi

*Yeah, how much does that suck. "You think you're so smart? Well, [insert bizarre question they heard on Ripley's Believe it or Not the night before] Do you know that? Huh? Yeah, you're not so smart." Cue the further weakening of the already fragile 5th grade girl's self-esteem.

**If we were placed on this map, I think we'd be somewhere between that milky cream color and the zombie-like grey. Maybe in summertime we creep down from the tundra toward rosy pink.

My Public Apology to the Banana

Dear Banana,

You are an ideal fruit, from what I'm told. You replenish electrolytes. You contain three natural sugars for a quick energy boost. You're easy to serve, what with your handy peel and all. Your attractive shade of yellow makes it abundantly clear when you're not-nearly-ripe, not-quite-ripe, perfectly ripe, time-for-banana-nut-bread-ripe, and whoa-Nelly-how'd-this-banana-hide-in-the-bottom-of-the-fruit-bowl-this-long?-ripe.

I'm sorry I went years without buying or eating one of you.

But, you see, it's not really my fault. It's my toddler daughter's fault. Really. Her wild-abandonment-passion for you necessitating a daily (or more often) serving of bananas just at the age when all meals required bite-size-chopping followed by pincer-gripping, smearing, mushing, shampooing, nostril-stuffing, etc of all foodstuffs did me in. Well, all that aromatic and slimy banana drama coupled with the oversensitive nasal passages of my pregnant body ... it did me in.

So, there you are ... equal blame between my two kids. Not really my fault at all. Nope. Nada. Zilch. Zero.

Still, I'm sorry.

Starting in the first trimester of my second pregnancy (say, Thanksgiving 2000), I could no longer stand the smell of you. You were everywhere, in every orifice, skin fold, crevice, pore of my tiny daughter's body. Every day. Sometimes twice. You were slimier than the nastiest diaper change, the gooey-est used tissue. It got to the point where I had to pinch my nose shut with one hand, wrestle my fortunately-light toddler out of her high chair with one hand and whisk her squirming, you-slippery body right into the bathtub; stripping her naked and rinsing her off all one-handed. Otherwise ... the gagging, the ineffectual retching, the nausea for hours. Not fun.

I expect the phase to pass, but it didn't. In fact, it got bad enough that I just couldn't do it any more. Just the act of pulling one of you off the bunch and starting to peel you would unleash a Pavlovian gag reflex of anticipation. Eventually, all banana-related activities fell firmly into a paternal jurisdiction.

Even after the baby was born, I still couldn't approach you. I was just starting to think of a mind-over-matter approach to getting over this phobia when my second-born entered the gross-out phase of eating and the whole thing started all over again.

By the time my baby had turned three and mastered some level of cutlery control, I decided that enough was indeed enough. It was time to re-introduce bananas into my life. But, I tell you, banana, it was rough.

I had to start with that most-wonderful-yet-not-terribly-authentic banana treat ... banana-pudding-in-a-Nilla-wafer-crust pie. YUM! I thought I was on a roll. But, nope....still couldn't tolerate peeling the real thing without a gorge-rising reaction. sigh and Grrr...

Baby steps. Three baby steps forward and two baby steps back. Over and over again.

It took time. Years, in fact. Eventually I could eat an actual banana. Just did today, in fact. You're pretty yummy. But there's still a moment, a pause, a doubt each and every time, "Can I do this?"

I'm sorry, banana. You have many wonderful qualities, but you're just never gonna hold that special place in the fruit bowl of my heart any more.

A-peel-ing to your better nature (oh so uncalled for....),
--Heidi

My Public Apology to My Husband

I'm sorry, Joe. You know why.

--Heidi

My Public Apology to Bert

Dear Bert,

Well, not the real Bert, but the plastic Bert. The one from our Fisher Price Sesame Street Clubhouse playset. You were the unfortunate victim of our childhood version of Poohsticks, gone wrong.

Remember? Chris and I used to wait until spring or after a heavy summer rain and then drop things in the rushing water flowing through the ditch in front of our house. We'd then race across the driveway to watch for the stuff to come caroming out the other side. Sticks. Unusual leaves. Small plastic figurines ...

Which is where you came in. We'd long ago outgrown actually playing Sesame Street, and I don't think we even had the building anymore. But, we still held on to some of the Little People. I remember Ernie, Gordon, Oscar the Grouch, Big Bird, Susan (I just looked her up ... try Googling 'black Sesame Street woman married to Gordon' and see what you come up with) and you. That's all I can remember.

Anyway, if you recall, the ditch in our area was deep and narrow. Basically a backhoe would come through every couple of years and dig a trench down the sides of Fry Road. So after a rain, or the Spring Thaw, the ditch was a rapid torrent of water hurrying toward Elk Creek then Lake Erie then Niagara Falls through the Saint Lawrence Seaway to the Atlantic Ocean.

Chris and I were dropping things in the ditch, running to the other side and collecting them, returning to the uphill side of the driveway, dropping them back in and repeating this process ad nauseum. Until disaster struck. You got away from us.

I remember running alongside the water, trying to reach for you, dodging low-hanging tree branches, just missing you with our fingertips until (Dun-dun-dun) we reached the property line. We stopped cold at the boundary marker and just watched helplessly as you floated away downstream.

Why didn't we keep chasing after you? I'm not really sure. It's not as though Chris and I never broke any rules. It's just that some rules seemed more like suggestions, but somehow the "Stay Out of the Osterbergs' Yard" rule was etched indelibly on our minds. We dared not follow after you. We dared not take another step. We were actually pretty upset at your loss.

We consoled ourselves for the next few days by following your progress in our minds. "Bet Bert's in Elk Creek by now!"

"Mom, do you think Bert is over Niagara Falls by now?"

"Dad, do you think a fish would eat Bert?"

We were convinced your buoyancy was infallible, that you'd follow the waterway to its eventual ending in the Atlantic Ocean. Is that what happened to you?

In any case, I hope things turned out all right, and I'm sorry we didn't try harder to save you. If it means anything, one of the first toys I eBayed for my own children was a vintage Sesame Street Clubhouse. Complete with its own Bert. We don't have a ditch in front of our house.

My apologies,
--Heidi

My Public Apology to Mark

Dear Mark,

You're a good guy. Very patient. Thank you for listening to my existential mid-life crisis (your words) crap. I'm sorry I can be such an insecure freaking mess.

Pulling myself up by my bootstraps and getting on with it,
--Heidi

My Public Apology to Saegertown, PA

Dear Borough Leaders,

I'm sorry I stole one of your street signs back in 1990. Sure, I could blame peer pressure, the recklessness of youth, etc, but really the fault is mine.

I was driving around with my ex-boyfriend and one of his friends (Hi, Tony! Hi, Geoff!). I don't even remember where we were coming from. But, I do know I didn't want to just drop them off and end the evening. I was still in the Denial Phase of the ex-boyfriend situation. That phase lasted almost as long as the relationship did, come to think of it.

Anyway, I was driving my parents' car, and my Dad, Mister Super Boy Scout that he is, always has a tool kit and other just-in-case stuff in the car. I think Geoff might have noticed the tool kit under the front seat and commented on it. I'm embarrassed to admit that I think it was my idea to use the tools to take some street signs. I wanted to seem like more of a trouble-seeking fun girl than the teacher's pet, goody-goody I really was.

We drove all around southern Erie and northern Crawford counties, looking for good prospects. You know -- interesting sign, busted street light, isolated country road.... We got our routine down to a well-drilled sign-stealing system. We'd drive by, discuss the prospects of a given opportunity for about another half-mile, I'd make a U-turn and we'd pull up to the sign. After I'd stopped the car, the guys would jump out with the tools, and I'd run around back and pop the trunk. They'd double-team the nuts and bolts (which we'd thriftily screw back onto the sign posts). They'd throw the sign in the trunk, and I'd already be back behind the wheel ready to speed away (without looking like we were speeding away ... you know ... flying casual). We could have evolved into the Bonnie and Clyde ... and Clyde of Northwestern Pennsylvania.

At one point, Tony had a couple of decent-sized signs, and Geoff was trying to disassemble one of those orange-striped warning barrier thingies. He really just wanted the big blinker light assembly off the top of it. At some point he gave up and we helpfully placed it over a pothole.

We really wanted one of the No Skateboarding on the Sidewalk signs we saw, but (alas!) they were all in well-traveled, well-lit areas.

Eventually, the guys noticed that I didn't have any souvenirs for the evening and started egging me on to pick something out. I reminded them that my parents would freak if I walked in with a big ol' street sign. I had to have something that would fit in my purse. (Granted, it was a giant 80s purse, so there was some leeway there.)

I have to admit that before this little episode of hooliganism, I never fully realized just how large street signs are. I had no idea that stop signs are almost 30-inches across. I mean, I get it that visibility is important. But, these things are BIG. And heavy.

Well, long story short, I wound up with a small street sign. The smallest one we could find, in fact. We especially liked its slightly salacious wording.

It graced my college dorm room for years. I perched it on a windowsill near my desk when I got my own apartment. In fact, I still have it. It's sitting not 18 inches from my left elbow. At some point my children will notice that it's a street sign and ask where I got it. Thus will begin another in what will undoubtedly be a long line of do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do lessons.

In any case, please accept this apology. If you want, I could send you the $10.95 to replace it.

--Heidi

My Public Apology to the Roman Gods

Dear Jupiter, Mars, Venus, Juno, et al,

I'm sorry, but you don't impress me all that much.

The Greek gods just seem way cooler than you do. They have far more interesting names (Zeus, Area, Aphrodite, Hera ...), and because of someone's idea of naming the planets in our solar system after you, well ... your names just aren't all that recognizable as your own names.

I mean, when I hear the word "Mars," my first thought is something like this:














Not you:
















I recognize that's not really your own fault, but well, common knowledge of our day makes you seem kind of like you copied the planet names and tried to horn in on their notoriety. Every first grader learns the names of the planets, but by the time we hit mythology in middle school? You just seem like copy cats.

Speaking of copying, what's with essentially stealing all your good stories from the Greeks? You Roman gods started out rather generic, with no cool adventures to claim as your own. But then your Roman worshipers discovered the awesomeness that is Greek mythology and decided to just give your names to their characters and run with it. Zeus disguises himself as an eagle and seduces Earth chicks .... voila! Jupiter disguises himself as an eagle and gets it on with his own mortal babes.

I'm sorry, but I just don't respect you for that. Go out and do your own thing, for crying out loud! C'mon, Jupiter, disguise yourself as a wolf or a bear or GQ model or something and wreak some original havoc.

"But it's not our fault," I hear you whine, "Our followers did this to us. We were just minding our own business." Not buying it. You're freaking gods. Stay on top of your game, folks. Keep a more omniscient ear on what people are saying about you.

Sorry, Roman pantheon (dang, even that word is Greek and not Roman), I'm just not impressed.

--Heidi

My Public Apology to My Cat

Dear Dottie,

You're totally getting short shrift from me lately. Lately being, oh say ... the last three years. Ever since Sasha arrived in my life.

Let me start by saying that for the first 35 years of my life, I'd always been a cat person. As a girl, I loved our family cat and could honestly take or leave the dog. I would entice the cat into my room so she'd sleep with me. I relished knowing that my bed soon became her favorite place to sleep.

And, you should know that in my adult life, we've always had cats. Franklin, the fluffy orange tabby. Frederick, the overweight bullseye tabby. Zoe, the neurotic and paranoid and freakish pale grey tabby. And now you. our quasi-tortoiseshell tabby with the orange forehead dot.

You slept on our bed; you cuddled with us on the couch; you wound around my legs while I cooked. But not anymore. Not much anyway. You're just not comfortable with the dog. You avoid her areas of the house. I get it. She's rather exuberant with wanting to be your absolutely bestest friend in the universe. She doesn't take a swat in the nose for an answer. She keeps trying to get to know you better, whining and wiggling at you whenever she sees you.

It may not work on you, but it sure has worked on me. Sasha's wiggled her way into my heart. I trained her, housebroke her, took her for hundreds upon hundreds of miles of walks. She listens to me best and is, frankly, my dog. I've never had a my dog before. I didn't realize what that was like. I had no idea.

Dottie, you're a terrific and wonderful cat, but your charms are nothing on the deep and abiding affection of a well-behaved, intelligent dog. I love you, cat, and all the half-eaten, disemboweled gifts I find in my bare feet at least once a week. Honestly, I appreciate the thought. But, I have to be frank. You fill a smaller wedge in the pie chart of my heart than you used to.

Don't miss me too much. Emily is thrilled that you sleep on her bed every night, and I know she's a cat person because of it. She's all yours.

In any case, please accept my sincere apology,
--Heidi

My Public Apology to People I Call/Text When I'm Walking

Dear Friends and Family (except my Mom, because she kinda likes it),

I know it's hard to hear me when I'm walking along and the wind and passing trucks make giant whooshing noises into my Bluetooth. I know I don't always have all that much to say and that I'm basically looking for a walking buddy. I know.

I like walking, but it gets boring. And lonely.

But that's not your fault, nor your problem. I'll try to refrain more.

I'm sorry,
--Heidi

My Public Apology to My Maiden Name

Dear Schierer,

OK, so I was wrong about you. Schierer. S-C-H-I-E-R-E-R. Schierer. Pronounced roughly "sheer," but with maybe the tiniest extra "r" at the end. "Sheerr."

Not "shire" or "sheer-er" or as printed on my sophomore year book, "Schlerer." Certainly not "SHRY-er" or "SHRY-rer-rer."

I honestly used to blame you. That you were just a difficult and complicated name. That your Germanic ethnicity and redundant final letter pair confused people.

Now I realize it's not your fault. People just don't pay attention to name pronunciation conventions. People just don't try. Nor do they ask for help when uncertain.

When I married, I gladly traded you in for the simple and vastly more common, "Dugan." Heck, Dugan ranks in the top 1600 most common names in the U.S. (Whereas Schierer comes in around 58,000, with only 329 occurrences in the entire 2000 U.S. Census. I'm probably related to all of them.) The surname even has its own Wikipedia entry. Short, sweet, simple. DOO-gun.

I figured the days of telemarketers mispronouncing my name on the phone were behind me forever.

I figured wrong. Oh, so wrong.

We regularly get calls for the DUGG-uns, DURG-uns, DOWG-uns, even duh-GANS. Callers even add extra syllables, asking for the "O' DOOG-uns." And that's just the phone mistakes. Junk mail and spam e-mail folks seem to think it's not even our last name. My son has received things addressing him as "Mr. Dugan Matthews." Not a bad-sounding name, I have to admit, but wrong, wrong, wrong.

So, Schierer ... I realize it's not your fault. I was way to eager to shed you for a simpler name. It honestly never occurred to me that it wasn't you, it was everyone else.

My apologies,
--Heidi

My Public Apology to Jogging

Dear Jogging,

I try to like you. I know you are a great form of exercise, that you would get my heart pumping and my blood flowing and all that. I know I could get just as much if not more work-out out of my work-out in substantially less time if I employed you instead of your more plebeian sibling, walking.

But I just don't like you. I don't like the way my thighs jiggle when I jog. Believe me, I understand that if I jogged more my thighs and belly and countless other jiggly spots on my body would firm up and solve this problem. But, I just can't seem to get past it long enough for that to happen.

And, maybe it's a lack of appropriately athletically supportive foundation garments, but I absolutely loathe the more than a little painful jouncy feeling you elicit in my chest. I mean, I'm no Dolly Parton, but yeesh -- give a girl a break. I shouldn't have to wrap myself in Ace bandages to comfortably perform an activity.

Don't get me wrong, I try to like you; I really do. I envision myself crossing the finish line of a marathon, exhausted but exhilarated after 26.2 miles of slow but steady jogging. I picture myself in the ranks of fellow joggers, passing on the shoulders of neighborhood roads, nodding slightly out of breath, but my aren't we getting in shape? greetings to one another. Visualization doesn't seem to work in this case, though. I just can't shake disliking you.

I walk as fast as I possibly can without breaking into a jog. I start to employ that exaggerated sport-walking gait, a la Cary Grant in Walk, Don't Run, but like a good sulky racer, I refuse to break stride.

So, sorry, jogging. I know you're a good form of exercise and I know you have many adherents, but I'll never, ever be one of them. Don't hold it against me, all right?

--Heidi

Blog-Free Zone

I don't know why I don't care to blog much anymore. I think Facebook has something to do with it, but that's not the whole story.

Starting to self-Weight Watchers today and going to see how well that works on the twenty pounds I hope to lose this spring. If results are lackluster, I'll go back to paying and attending meetings and so forth. There's NO way I'm going to buy clothes again in a larger size. I'm going to fit back into the stuff I bought after I lost the weight a few years ago.

It's good to be home after such a long time away. Makes me want to get the paint out and finish the job I started before the holidays. But there's a lot of undecorating to do before that can realistically happen.

Nothing new to report, otherwise. Christmas was good...holiday visits were terrific. But, it's very good to be home.

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