Sue

One day, we were passing the meat section. He stopped, tilted his head, then said in a rather monotone voice, “Mom, there is an entire raw chicken wedged under that freezer.” I stopped and looked at his extended hand, pointing to the putrifying poultry. Acknowledging his disgusting discovery we wheeled onward. It was pretty gross, but we had a good laugh and related the experience to the unenlightened individuals who stayed home while we hunted and gathered under flourescent lights.

The following weekend we repeated this strange ritual called shopping. “I wonder”, he said, “if that chicken will still be there?” I hoped not. With a mixture of dread and gaiety we approached the freezer. “It’s there!” he exclaimed. Oh goody. Of all the things that one could look forward to, our attention was focused on this rotting chicken. I threatened to tell an employee about this disturbing phenomenon. Teddy begged me not to say anything.

It became a game. Week after week we looked for the offensive bird and were always rewarded with its presence. I began to wonder if it really was a chicken. Afterall, wouldn’t it stink or  decompose or something? Teddy assured me that it was indeed a chicken. He even knelt down to get a better look. Yup, he confirmed, it’s a chicken.

Finally I could stand it no longer. A nice employee asked me if we were finding everything we needed. “Yes”, I replied, “and then some. I have to tell you”, I laughed, “that there is a dead chicken wedged under this freezer up ahead.” She followed us to the crime scene and then she started laughing. She informed us that the doppelganger was insulating foam. “Sure looks like a chicken to me” I laughed again. I told her that knowledge made my shopping experience a whole lot easier, but it may have ruined it for my son. We all chuckled over that one, except for Teddy who still was not certain that the employee had spoken the truth.

We still shop every weekend. And we pass the inanimate insulating foam. Well, it still looks like a chicken to me…

Ducks waddling towards me. Two boys for every girl.

Eyes soaking up the ochre grass, steel gray water and smoke colored sky.

River banks carved as neatly as Halloween pumpkins. Tomorrow is coming.

Now, I am not offended by language or personal expression in most instances. I guess I was just surprised at the blatant disregard for other viewers. A quick glance at the rest of the figure wearing the festive buckle revealed a goth type girl, pierced in several places. Well, maybe I’m getting old, or maybe I just didn’t want Max to be exposed to that sort of apparel at his age. Although kids today have pretty much seen and heard it all.

I guess I was never one of those obviously rebellious teenagers. I quietly object to authority in other ways. Like wearing my shirts inside-out, or driving my car without my license on me. Lame, right?

Well, as they say, it takes all kinds. I don’t think my kids will ever feel the need to rebel in public venues. They do fine on an every day basis making their opinions known at home. And maybe if I actually listen to them and try to see their point of view, they won’t feel the need to wear questionable clothing.

Time will tell.

Sue

Now, don’t get me wrong, my son is not perfect. He is apt to be very frank with people and was simply stating a fact about how he felt. I thought his response was very clever and too funny for a kid that age to come up with. I burst out laughing when he related that story to a third party. He was explaining the types of behavior that earn detention, not bragging about the ordeal.

Sometimes parents don’t realize the pressures that kids have to deal with every day. We think they have an easy life in comparison to ours. It is always enlightening to listen to a child’s point of view on certain things. And I think that the single most important quality a person can possess is a sense of humor. So lighten up, I say, and try and address the issues that really need attention.

 Sue

Wouldn’t it be nice to have that same insight into our own lives: to realize that you act in certain ways for a reason and know that it’s all for the best. I am no determinist by any means. I think it’s more a matter of perspective: seeing the big picture and realizing that our actions are never without purpose.

I guess this is the kind of stuff I think about when I am not reading text books. How many more days until Winter classes start?

 Sue

So today I was thinking about “destiny”. People ask me what I’m going to do with a masters degree in liberal arts. I have no ready answer. I am hoping it will come to me as I progress. But here’s a thought: what if there is no capital d, Destiny? What if there are just a bunch of little, quiet, destinies along the way to wherever? I think the thing I learned in my last class was that there are no Big Changes, only piecemeal changes.

There may be no significant career transition, or any such marker for me when I graduate. The alteration process may be so gradual and unexpected that I wind up in a different place without ever realizing that I have switched locations. We shall see… 

Sue

They resembled dense tennis balls as they cooked. Not a good sign. I amused myself with my cooking ineptitude. I don’t know, maybe when I was a little kid they just appeared bigger and puffier because I was small.

I kept putting them back in the oven, hoping for some miracle of inflation to occur. No such luck. Well, to be honest, I had one little mini-puff hollow enough to be filled. But hardly worth making pudding for. Sorry little guy.

Maybe some things are better left in our memories (like cooking). My creation tastes like quiche. Hmmm, dinner anyone? Ah well, there’s always store-bought pumpkin pie. Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Sue

The other day I was sitting on the couch reading and I heard the kids playing upstairs with this hideous hand puppet named Frogstie. The thing has a hole in its head where the kids inserted a marble to serve as a brain. Needless to say it fell out long ago. In Frogsties falsetto voice I hear “Shut the #!*&^! up!” I yelled “Teddy! What did I just hear?” Frogstie answered “Sorry!” and the play continued. That kid! I guess I shouldn’t laugh, but I do. At least he doesn’t hear me.

More to come. There’s always more to come with these kids.

Sue

Heres how it went. I had been reading and studying for weeks on end, never taking time to relax, flop on the couch with the family and watch some mindless, dare I say,
non-educational, television. Apparently I had reached maximum threshold. We were watching “My Name is Earl”, season one, episode  14 called ”Monkeys in Space”. Randy was trying to find his purpose in life by trying out a variety of odd jobs. He took a job as a human guinea pig; a subject for cosmetics testing. He was sitting in a chair as the clinician approached him with a tray covered in what appeared to be red dust, perhaps crushed jalepno peppers. The tester unexpectedly blew all of the powder into Randy’s face. He told Randy to call him in a few days when his vision returned. That’s when I exploded into hysterical laughter. I think I took my kids by surprise. They both looked at me as if I had finally lost it. Then they started laughing too. Eventually we managed to stop.

Soon after, Randy was shown back in his hotel room, sitting down, sightless, eating chicken from a takeout container on his lap. He was unaware that his friend Catalina was seated across from him; she quietly reached over and grabbed a piece of chicken from his box. Suprised, he vaulted out of his chair, scattering food every which way. The laughter started all over again.

 I don’t think I should wait so long before relaxing next term.

Sue

Recently an acquaintance offered to come over to my house and pick up some movies that were needed for a class. Now, I may be comfortable with a less than tidy environment, but, I certainly would not subject an innocent bystander to my chaos. In fact as I look into the living room, I see a cadre of 8 panda bears that the kids have placed on every horizontal surface they could find. Upon closer inspection I see a stuffed turtle and a chicken as well. They must have been included for diversity. So, I told him I would be glad to deliver the movies to his office.

I know that I should be doing a thousand other things right now, including housecleaning. But I find that if I don’t release these thoughts from the confines of my mind, they will just fester. Maybe they will get infected too, I don’t know. So the best thing to do is purge my brain, and then do some homework. Aaah, nothing like a tidy mind.

Sue

There is an island in the center of the river which directs the water to either side. The left fork is swifter and the right is slower moving. Two paths to choose from, how philosophical.

On one side of the bridge it seems as if the water moves slower than on the other side. I’m sure the velocity is constant and that it just appears to alter its activity; it is manged differently on either side. One side is shallower and has more rocks, giving the impression of a busily flowing river. The other side is deeper and calmer. Same amount of water on either side, same acceleration, yet one side looks more frantic. Makes me think of certain people I know who appear busier than others with the same amount of “water” in their lives. I think it’s all about managing your resources. I prefer the calmer, deeper water. Yet even as I say this I realize that I am attracted to the busier side; there’s so much more to see.

Sue

This is one of those odd syncretic events that always seem to occur when I take a class. It’s a general state of heightened awareness in which premonitions are not unusual.
I believe these experiences are truly amazing and I cannot imagine myself being uninvolved in a classroom environment. Every subject I pursue creates awareness in previously unexplored areas. I am forever changed.

Sue

Well, this piece took a bit longer to complete than most of my others. But I finally finished it, just in time for fall classes and homework. I will have to work on smaller studies to satisfy my artistic needs for the next ten weeks.

Ever since our days in  in the garden of Eden, our lives have become more complicated and artificial. We buy processed foods, go to the gym to work our muscles and spend time in sedentary pursuits –  appreciating the arts, if you will.

Do these modern day activities increase our happiness and encourage morality? I think they can, in the case of moral imagination, which is engaged when being exposed to other realities. I also can see how technology creates feelings previously unknown and not always pleasant. Take email for an example. It is time spent in an almost invisible pursuit. Is it “real”? Are there benefits?

Frustration can occur when the technology that we have come to rely on is not functioning properly. The pleasant feelings usually associated with these devices and activities are replaced with feelings of agitation and anxiety.

It is easy to believe that progress is equated with enhanced happiness and morality; increased awareness and kindness towards others. I am reminded by Rosseau that this is not always the case. I scrutinize my own life for areas of strife that might be associated with technology. Would those uneasy feelings be connected to other areas if modern day devices did not exist?

Of course I have to believe that art and science have been a benefit to humankind. Maybe we just need to be reminded every so often to be aware of the complexity of our lives so that we can compensate by walking along Walden pond or engaging in some simple anti-technology activity.

Well, since I have no land to toil on, I will take my physical activity in the air-conditioned comfort of the gym. And I realize that this invisible activity of blogging may never be “seen” by eyes other than my own. But the benefit has been achieved none-the-less.

Sue