"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a adult, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.
But the greatest of these is love."
-- Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, 13:4-13

This morning at church, the substitute pastor addressed the hearers young and old of children's sermon with the above verses. He skipped the middle part about prophesies passing away and knowledge and looking in a mirror yadda yadda. He gave them the "Greatest Hits" parts of this famous "love letter" that Paul wrote to the church of Corinth. The parts that are used in weddings, the parts that we all have heard over the years. The Faith Hope and Charity bits.

Paul's letter to the Corinthians was sent to them at a time they needed to hear these things. Stop acting like babies, act like grown ups, love one another as God loves you. Love isn't petty and bickering, so you shouldn't be either. When I was a child, I acted like a child, mewling and puking and whining and stomping my feet. Now that I am an adult, I put these things behind me.

The parts that come before what I have featured above are equally moving. If I speak with the tongues of angels, but do not have love... I am a clanging gong. If I have all the riches of the world, but do not have love, I am and have nothing.

Paul is mostly talking about loving behavior in community, but I also believe he's talking about love between people who are IN LOVE. Husbands, wives; children, parents; boyfriends, girlfriends; significant others and their others.

Love is an amazing force. Love moves mountains. Love makes people reach out to others in ways that they never would have if they did not have this spark in their hearts. Love is the single most amazing gift we can give one another, be it serving at a homeless shelter or cuddling on the couch and kissing while ignoring that bad made for TV movie you started watching an hour ago.

This afternoon after church, Geoff was expressing to me that he felt a little ripped off that I didn't buy any valentine's candy for him. I told him that every day is valentine's day. He disagreed and I laid out my philosophy of the Big Scam that is valentine's day.

I've written about this in the past here in the blog, that every day is valentine's day for Doug and Chris. Setting aside just one day to tell people "I love you" is bullshit.

Valentine's day is for people who do not know how to love the other 364 days of the year.

I do not WANT anything on valentine's day that I wouldn't be given the other days of the year. I especially do not want it if it costs 10 times what it SHOULD cost any of the other days of the year.

Geoff told me that may be true, but Valentine's Day is all about "Love to the EXTREME." I told him that his future girlfriend might appreciate that. But for the most part, as long as he loves her extremely all the days of the year in addition to Valentine's Day, hopefully she will appreciate a small gesture on the actual holiday and realize how lucky she is all the time.

I hate valentine's day.

I really do. A fake-assed, made-up holiday that puts pressure on people who are in relationship to do above and beyond; and a horrible day for those who aren't in relationship which makes them feel guilty and left out and unloved. It is a lie. An expensive lie. Ridiculous. I hate it.

I want my children to know that to expect to receive something red and heart shaped on Valentine's day makes them greedy. I want them to know that all day every day they should exemplify love to others, either in relationship our just friends. And their expectations of what should be given to them shouldn't land solely on Valentine's Day as the be all end all of love.

I want Geoff to know especially that he should make sure to find a woman who isn't shallow and only focused upon what is to be given to her for Valentine's Day, and if she pouts and spits venom and hates on anything that he does for her... that's not love. That's crap.

I want my daughter to know that something given to her for no reason in the middle of August is more thoughtful and heartfelt than something given to her on a day blessed by Hallmark. And I want her to know that gestures all year given of her heart are more valuable to friends and loved ones than a freaking Vermont Teddy Bear.

Love is not an industry.

Boy Scout Sunday

Oh hai. Not much has been going on in life which makes it semi-pointless to journal. Doug picked up a part time 13 week gig which hopefully will make a huge difference financially in our lives. I am redoing cateringman's website so I spent a day with him photographing a bridal tasting (no brides were tasted, smartypants) yesterday. I feel like we're keeping busy and almost kind of crazy. Which is good.

When it comes to the kids though, they're keeping us on our toes. Especially the boy. You would think February is a month that Scouting activities would be minimal. You'd be wrong.

You knew in the last entry about Geoff's trip to the Deep Freeze, and the whole run in with the other parent. I'm pleased to report that whole mess worked out well. Geoff ended up getting a ride home from that same dad, and I think that he proved himself to be not a psycho, and just a boy. Not a perfect boy, but also not a monster either. I think that part of that is because of prayer and mojo that was sent to him by many people around the intertoobs.

So thank you dear friends for your ongoing spiritual support for my kid.

He's been REALLY intensely interested in God in the past several weeks. Thank you "History Channel" presentations on the Seven Deadly Sins and The Ten Commandments. I have spent more time with him in the past two weeks talking about things like the difference between "pride" and "vaingloriousness" and why there are protestants and Catholics, and why there are so many different types of protestants... and why we don't cross ourselves in our church but some other people do.

This weekend the kids did "Scouting For Food" on Saturday, and today was Scout Sunday.

I volunteered to organize the Scout Sunday festivities, and decided that instead of doing it at the same church that sponsors our charter, and go to our church instead. Our pastor is an Eagle Scout, and he really does love scouting. And one of the parishioners is the District Chairman, so I figured they'd both be pretty into it.

I thought maybe five of our guys would show up.

There were were about 15 from our troop, and about 10 from Newburyport, and one from the Newbury troop who just became a boy scout last night in his Arrow of Light ceremony.

At one point, I thought maybe there were more scouts in the audience than there were parishioners. When our pastor walked out to begin the service he was shocked at the amount of people there.

We had two of our guys play guitar and one played trumpet for Taps at the end. We then had tours of the church, top to bottom. Our church was a very important church in the Great Awakening in America, being founded by George Whitefield. If you like American history and stuff, you'll know about Whitefield and the Wesley Brothers and the Great Awakening. In fact, Whitefield is buried in the basement of the church. The boys had a great time touring the church after the service, and the weather was luckily nice enough that we could go up in the steeple and hang out up there for a bit. Some of the guys were freaking out a bit, overwhelmed by the height of the building. Others were eating it up.

"Hey Mr. G___," said one boy, "What would you give me to jump off of here?"

"About ten seconds," said Mr. G___.

"A really nice memorial service is what we'll give you," I said. "Maybe even AT this church. It'd be only appropriate."

All told, this was a tremendously fun event and I'm really glad that the kids went and had such a good time.

Pictures are here.

Tonight we're going snowshoeing with the troop. There's a local "Stonehenge" and they do night-time hiking and snowshoeing with the full moon. We reserved the trails to ourselves for tonight. Luckily it is about 40 degrees out right now, but it's kind of windy and I'm worried that we'll freeze to death once the sun goes down. Hopefully it won't be awful. Cross your fingers.

And on that note, I have to find my thermal undershirt and my fleece jammy bottoms so I can put them on under my pants. Pray for me tonight. I don't know how hard snowshoeing is, but I'm hoping I get out there and don't immediately say "this sucks!!! get me outtahere!"

heh.

My son, the kid that other kids and their parents do not like

I'm up very early this morning because Geoff has an event with the Boy Scouts today and I opted not to go with him. Doug didn't WANT to go with him, so we sent him solo. I'm worried now that may not have been a good plan.

This is an annual outdoor event -- they spend the entire day outside, doing winter things... winter awareness, winter site development, winter games. In years past they've slept over at the campground, no matter the temperature. They aren't this year, because we were going to observe Scout Sunday tomorrow. That got moved back, so some boys have changed their plans and are there the whole weekend.

Some call it the Klondike Derby, some call it Deep Freeze. I call it crazy.

I hate the cold and everything about it. I hate being out in it. I never feel properly prepared, or I over dress and then I'm uncomfortable.

I thought Doug was going to go, but he feels Geoff is getting really good at doing this kind of stuff on his own and doesn't need a nanny. He's right, but there are times that Geoff needs an extra external conscience to guide him gently. And this might be one of those days.

We have a really big troop. Some troops have like 10 kids. We've got like 25 and all are very active in the program. The new scouts who are finishing up Cub Scouts are with the troop today, and one of those boys is a young gentleman that Geoff does not get along with.

In December, they had an altercation in chorus that resulted in Geoff getting expelled from chorus. I didn't blog about it because it's been all Geoff all the time lately, and rarely is the news happy or good.

Suffice to say, he was devastated, and hates that he got kicked out and blames the other kid. Not himself, for his own actions... but the other boy. There is a lot of he said she said, there is a lot of conflicting eyewitness testimony... but whatever. What's done is done.

Geoff gets out of the car and goes over to his friends and I get out of the car to go touch base with the Assistant Scoutmaster about Doug not being there and what time will I be coming to pick him up, and I am intercepted.

"I'm Mr. S. A's dad. Are we going to have a problem today?"

Oh shit. Dude is huge and mad looking... and I die a little inside. Yet another kid that Geoff has wronged, and yet another parent pissed, only this one doesn't seem like "It's okay, boys will be boys and will work things out. Let's sit down and chat with them..."

I stick my hand out and introduce myself. He tells me that over this past week Geoff has repeatedly and very aggressively asserted himself towards his son in the hallways. He didn't know Geoff was a boy scout until yesterday when his son told him. And his son told him "I don't want to join boy scouts if Geoff is in the troop."

Nice.

Damage control, spin, what can we do here. Doug's not going with in order to monitor and keep peace. I'm not dressed and prepared to go, I'm in pyjamas and I didn't even wear a coat. Crap crap crap.

We talk for a while and I tell him that I want to bring the boys together, have them spend a minute before they go, make sure that they're on agreeable ground, Geoff especially. He agrees and goes to get his son. I march over to mine.

"Geoff, I need you to..."

"There he is mom, that FAT ASS that ruined my life and got me kicked out of chorus. I hate hi--"

Oh hell to the no.

I put my hand in his face and said "Get back in the car, you're not going today."

He's stunned. Shocked. "Why!?" As if.

"I can't send you there today with A. because I don't trust that you'll behave yourself. You're a bully. And you're mean. And you're not being a good scout. And so you're done. Get in the car right now or listen to what I have to say."

He says "okay, what do you have to say."

"I need to know that you'll be a good man today. A good scout. A friend to incoming scouts, to show them how things are done. Remember how you felt coming into the troop, all these guys that you had never met. A. needs that kind of support and guidance, not someone who blames him for something that wasn't his fault. You cannot threaten him. You cannot menace him. You cannot make his life miserable and make him feel as if he's afraid to be here. I need you to step up, man up, be good, behave and come over to talk to him and prove you will be good."

"Fine, but just for today."

"Wrong answer, get in the car. We're done."

"Okay! I get it. I'll do the right thing."

We walk over to A. and his dad and Geoff says "A., I'm sorry I've made you uncomfortable. I will treat you with kindness and respect today. Scouts shake hands with their left hand so," he stuck his left hand out to A., who took it. A. thanked him and turned and walked away.

Geoff then turned to the dad, "I promise I will be kind to your son today, and won't give him a hard time." Geoff stuck out his left hand too to the dad, who also shook hands with him.

The dad and I continued to talk. I felt that Geoff was sincere, I didn't have to script or prod. He said the right things. I told the dad I would talk to the Assistant Scoutmaster and make him aware that there have been problems, and ask him to keep an eye on things.

The dad said some other things that I don't want to really get into. He implied that Geoff should be in alternate schooling and that eventually something may have to be done to stop him. I just let that kind of thing go. Dude is mad, and angry at my kid. And it is something I've grown to understand and expect, even though I don't like it and sometimes feel there isn't anything that I can do about it. I ended the discussion by telling the dad that it might be good to sit the boys down sooner than later, and have them talk things over outside of school and not at either's home. Geoff always does better with people when he learns that they are a human just like him. Over a cup of hot chocolate, talk it out and make things right.

It's the best I can do, right?

I flagged the Assistant Scoutmaster down and let him know that there is a history of problems between Geoff and one of the Webelos, and asked if he could keep a really close eye on Geoff and A. during this event. The cub master or Den Leader also came over to listen to what I had to say and said that he'll also be there to monitor the situation.

Geoff will be up at the camp until at least 10pm tonight. The Webelos are coming home at 4. So I'll quietly sit here and pray that the phone doesn't ring. And that when I pick him up later, there will be good reports.

Until then. Meh.

---

On another note, Jess is in NY this weekend.

A friend of hers from Rebel went to audition for colleges (theatre programs) in the city, and he and his mom needed a place to stay in/near the city for Friday night. Thanks to Facebook, the dad's status brought this to my attention and without hesitation I totally knee-jerk volunteered my sister.

Heh.

Luckily, Linda accepted my volunteering of her house and hospitality with kindness and didn't kick my ass for it. And Doug suggested Jess go with them, and get some time with her auntie. I'm going to drive down to New London to pick her up off the ferry on Sunday afternoon -- and until then, she'll have a nice visit in NY.

Her friend is a great kid, and I am excited for him auditioning and picking colleges and figuring things out. Seeing as a year from now it will be us, I like that we (Linda is part of the Royal We) are able to assist in the process because who knows what we may need from someone in a year. I also thought it would be a good idea for Jess to see this auditioning process, even if she couldn't see the audition. She isn't going into a theatre program for college, she's pretty sure at this point. But knowing a process for something might make it easier on her brain should she change her mind.

They took the Fung Wah bus to the city and survived. It didn't roll over or burst into flames and no one died. Worth every penny of the $15 we spent on the ticket. And it reminded me of my time in college when my only real option was Amtrak for getting to NY to get home to see my family, stories of which I wrote about here in 2002. I wish there had been Fung Wah when I was moving back and forth between New York and Boston. I'm glad it is there as an option in case Jess ends up in Manhattan for college.

---

Speaking of which, I had a good long talk with my friend Rob K., professor of awesomeness at an esteemed Southern Region University. He used to be a high school guidance counselor, so he wanted to know where Jess was thinking of going to school or what her choice of program of study was.

He recommended a website to me that helps match the culture of the student with the right colleges and THEN the academic program. I told him that was ass backwards, that you should search for college based on the academic program.

He told me I'm insane -- if you pick an academic program and you're miserable at the college because the culture doesn't match you, well then what have you got? A miserable college experience.

How many of us picked our college because they had a huge and awesome marching band, or we loved football or basketball? How many of us picked our college because it was a state school or a christian school? And then we picked our academic program. You THINK you know you'll be a history or english major. You KNOW you want a strong literary magazine.

He had a point. Even though I think he's wrong.

Anywho, I went online and did the search his way, knowing a little about what I think Jessica wants culturally. Her criteria is simple. Nothing south of the Mason Dixon Line, but she'll go all the way to Northern California, Oregon or Washington. She'd prefer a 4 season kind of place, or at least a place that has winter. She hates the heat. So it has to be a place that isn't hot all year. Okay. I know that she isn't big on sororities or fraternities. She hates sports, and sports culture. She wants a good literary magazine and I think she wants to go to a small school (under 5k students total). I think she wants to major in Foreign Languages.

22 colleges came back with a match, and then it was asking specifics about the major. Colleges like UMaine Orono (hey! There's a LOT of winter in Old Town!) and even Rutgers came up.

We would need to really look at this more closely. I like the idea of keeping her on the East Coast, and UMaine Orono is only about 5 hours from here. So that would make me happy.

Honestly, I can't believe we're here, looking at these realities. It is overwhelming to me. Makes my head explode.

Okay -- I've got stuff to do. More later.

and you can add speeches of politicians to that list of the fool's there...

"He's mad that trusts in the tameness of a wolf,
a horse's health, a boy's love, or a whore's oath."
- The Fool; King Lear

For those just waking up from that 18 year coma, or the two readers I have overseas, today our country celebrated the inauguration of Barack Obama, 44th president of the United States of America. To a lot of people this is an amazing and historic day. To others it is a sign of the apocalypse. To me, I am kind of sitting back skeptically, being skeptical, smack dab between the haters and the worshipers.

It isn't that I don't like Barack Obama. He's a great motivational speaker. But I would augment the quote from King Lear up there to include speeches from politicians on the list of things to mistrust.

Throughout history we've all seen promises made, promises broken. In this day and age, we can track day to day what someone says and count each and every "flip-flop" that a politician makes. Keeping a running tally of the changes ("I was for the war, before I was against it!") adds to my natural distrust of anything coming out of the mouth of anyone.

You may think me cold, but I refuse to drink any Kool-Aid that any poet, priest or politician is serving up. Including Obama.

There is a lot about Barack Obama to like, and then there is a lot that one has to seriously question. How he plans on getting money to fund social projects is one of those things that I seriously ponder. I am a firm believer of the Flat Tax philosophy. That if I bust my ass and make 267,000 a year, I should pay the same rate of tax as someone who makes 67,000 a year, or 7,000 a year. I think 15% is a good rate. I do not think that because you make more, you should be taxed more. What would then make one or motivate one to work harder to make more money for himself or herself, for their family, if it pushes them into another tax bracket?

The biblical philosophy in Luke where it is stated that "to whom much is given, much is required" should not apply to the government saying "Hey, you've got a lot so we're going to take it." No. That person should be giving of himself. Not one forced to do it through the government. I find that when I have more money, I'm a lot more generous. When money is tight, I have to pay for the immediate costs and needs. If I have more money, I give more away. I pay my bills, maybe go out to dinner, and I give money generously to charity and people who I know need it.

I know there are people who do not. And there are people who sit and languish because they do not have what some greedy fat cat has. But to be honest, I have never ever believed in Nanny Government. I have a feeling much more of this institutionalization of "giving" will be put into place. And I don't think it is a good thing.

But I love this and will not quit it like all of those those people who threatened to "move to France" because the candidate of their choice was not elected eight years ago (hey, Alec Baldwin, how's France working out for you, ya jackass. Pompous, bigmouthed jackass blowhard douche).

Obama is my president, and I support him and hope for an amazing four years for this country. I do. I really do.

I am skeptical about is this whole worship cult that is built up around him. The fact that most of this nation has lost belief in God, religion, faith, something ... in whatever that may be, that they've latched onto yet another smooth-talking man snake oil salesman with nice things to say about doing good and making change for people.

This concept of the Saviour of America image that the media and his staunchest supporters are building up really worries me. This wasn't an inauguration today. It was a beatification. A coronation. An ascension to the throne.

I put no faith in ANY politician to do the right thing. I take them all as liars and thieves. And while Obama's pledge for "change" and "yes we can" ring across the nation, I wonder what change this is? How will it get here? And how will people react when it doesn't come fast enough for their liking. I am wary that everyone who has so heartily and deeply inhaled the kool-aid will be so sorely disappointed. And our nation of Id obsessed "give it to me now now now" instant gratificationites will be yelling and screaming that they've been abandoned.

Obama's got a tough row to hoe, as they say. And boy, my hat is off to him and I wish him well. But I have a feeling, no matter what, everything will be blamed on the mess he inherits, not his inability to make good on his promises. Fingers will be pointed. Blame will be cast. Media stuffed shirts will be squawking. It's going to be an interesting 100 days, I think. I predict. I cringe.

The one thing is that I'm happy so many of my friends are so different. I spent the day with facebook loaded up onto my PC and I watched the status updates fly by. So many of my friends are either total moonbats or complete Unibombers. I sit right in the middle and see both of their arguments and say...

God bless the USA, and all the poor souls within it.

Good luck president Obama. We're counting on you to do good things, right things, and please... watch your back, baby. I worry about your safety and if you are lost, I hate to think of what will happen to this nation next. Get through the next four years... I don't care if you're an abysmal failure at it. Just survive it, please. Good luck and God speed.

Lobstertini?

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow are the kinds of days that make bald men wish they were Blagojevich. That muskrat noggin covering sure will keep one warm, I reckon.

I feel for Doug because he has an exceptionally long walk from the parking garage to his building and even with a super hat I am sure that the cold just penetrates to his hypothalamus.

We're gripped in a bit of a nasty cold spell here in New England. This happens around here a couple of times a year, usually in August or September. This time of year it is unprecedented though.

I don't mind the cold as long as that bastard wind isn't blowing. It's a jerk, and I hate it. Fie, upon thee, wind! Fie say I.

I'm a little silly tonight. I'm in an exceptionally good mood, even though I'm currently fighting yet another super evil malware on the PC. I'm not sure if it is Facebook or Youtube that is the culprit, but right now I'm pretty much sick of teh intertoobs, webz and any inter anything that makes me have to fight it. I just want a peaceful existence online. Is that too much to ask?

Obviously, it is.

Anyway -- while I'm running yet another system scan, here is my update.

Our house is rather cold and I've had a couple near sleepless nights worrying about the guinea pigs. Not the pipes, or the ever present ice dam. But the guinea pigs. After we lost Gordon, I kind of blamed myself that perhaps the room was too cold for him and that's what did him in. Guinea pigs are sensitive little critters, and they don't like it cold. The actually are kind of okay with cold, I guess it is DRAFTS that do them harm. So I've been covering the cage with a fleece blanket at night and stoking up the woodstove, and cranking the room heat, even though by morning those things have little impact on the temperature of the room. I think it was in the low 50s this morning when I came down to the living room. Cold assed joint that room is.

So tonight, I cleaned the cage, I reorganized the upstairs loft, and relocated the pigs to up here by the computer. I figured they'd be lonely up here, but now that I think of it, someone is ALWAYS on this computer... so they'll have company. They're running around like mental cases right now. I actually am a little worried that they don't get along, because I think they're fighting. Helena's right ear looks like it is being chewed... I'm keeping an eye on them, and I do hope I don't have to get a second cage and break up that party.

They make the cutest noises, and it is nice and warm up here, so I hope they'll be happy. In the summer, we'll move them back where they were because it gets brutally hot up here, and I don't want baked piglets in August.

---

Saturday we had Geoff's birthday party.

I got up exceptionally early (um, 8?) and began cleaning. I had just cleaned like mad the week prior, but of course with a family of four here no one ever cleans so I found myself again scrubbing kitchens and toilets and sweeping. Geoff was very helpful, I must say. When it comes time to prep for parties, he steps up. I wish he was this helpful all the time.

Three boys and Six Hyde children arrived around 1pm, along with some adults who chilled and chatted. We did pizza and Guitar Hero and you may have a hard time believing this but I think even Jessica was having a good time. Geoff's choices of friends worked out well, the boys all got along well, and a good time was had. Sharing went down with the instruments, and a lot of laughter came from the pink room.

I had promised a trip over to the laser tag joint the next town over, and it seemed like they were having a good enough time here that we could have passed on it and stayed home and rocked out. But we packed up the Six Hyde children and three boys and a couple of adults and trekked over. The boys got to play one round of laser tag and the little wee Hydes got to go to the jumpa jumpa area and boy did they ever jumpa jumpa. They got their money worth for sure.

After the one round of laser tag, two of the boys had to be home at a certain time so we came back to the house. We did cake, and more guitar hero, and Jess' friend Courtney was here for a while. All told I don't think there have ever been so many people in our house.

The Hydes stayed late and there was a lot of Hyde Rock and Roll Family Guitar Hero. Eventually, around 9pm Geoff just left and went to bed and his guests continued to rock out. It was kind of funny.

We overslept church the following morning. We were that tired. It was a good party. Geoff said it was the best ever. I think I'm still recovering. And I'm completely freaked out that I have a 12 year old boy.

The work weeks post-holiday drip past slowly. After a couple of weeks of 3 or 2 work days due to the holidays and some vacation time, I find a five day work week simply intolerable. I say they should be banned. I did get to take Amy out to the Lobster Shanty for her birthday last week though. We whispered to lobsters and discussed the finer points of a great Nacho plate. After my system scan I have plenty of pictures to post in the flickr for your viewing enjoyment.

Most evenings over the past week I spent hours building a new webpage for our Boy Scout Troop. The committee has to approve it, and I hope they do because it is rather pretty and I do enjoy the look of it. I have a couple pages to finish, and it will be nice when it is done. I want to encourage the boys who are doing certain projects to submit stuff to the website. And maybe get an Eagle section to commemorate each Eagle as they finish. We have one coming up in April, and probably two more before the end of the year. Fun stuff.

---

Tonight, I had the distinct pleasure of having dinner with Terroni, who is visiting Boston on a job search in her chosen medical field. She has interviewed here, NYC and Baltimore. Long ways from her home state, and it would be kinda cool if she would come to Bahstin. The adventures of a single doctor type chick would be excellent for Universal Hub, and she could experience real, honest to goodness French Toast Alert System updates.

I picked her up at the train station, a little later than I planned because I got trapped trying to get out of my parking garage. I didn't know the Registry of Deeds has an Alice Cooperesque "Schools Out For Summer" end-of-day building evacuation. It was kind of ridiculous. Remind me to never leave the office again at 4:30.

Luckily for us, it is lighter later, and I was able to find her, and drive her around a wee bit before the darkness fell. It was too cold really to get out and go look at the House of the Seven Gables or the Friendship... so we cruised through Pickering Wharf and enjoyed the end of day feel of Salem.

I pondered where to go for dinner, and remembered that tonight was closing for the season night at the Lobster Shanty, and last week when I was there with Amy I'd told Ms. Wolf that I would come by for a drink. You know me, a woman of my word. We went to the Shanty.

When we got there, very few people were at the bar. They were setting up a buffet of comfort foods, and I noticed that the lobsters Amy and I had whispered to very recently were all gone. Gasp! So sad.

We had a couple of beers and I was contemplating us going over to one of the very nice restaurants round the way for a nice sit down meal, but the bar started filling, and the fun level started rising. We grabbed buffet food and they brought out home made bar-pie sized pizzas and started passing them around.

Ms. Wolf came by and told me that they had made, get this, a lobster infused vodka this week... and were making "Lobster-tinis." It sounded crazy enough, and before I knew it my mouth was forming the words "I'll try one."

I felt all gastronomically adventurous, like Andrew Zimmern or Anthony Bourdain, without the beating cobra heart or moose penis entrees.

Garnished with a cute little lobster claw, the Lobster-tini didn't suck. That's a ringing endorsement if ever there was one, right?

Well, considering I'm not a fan of martinis or lobster, I was pleasantly surprised by the drink. It wasn't fishy, which I totally expected it would be, and the lobster garnish had been soaked in the vodka and was just delicious. I loved that part.

Thumbs up on the Lobster-tini, yo. And thumbs up to being brave and trying something totally wacky. And thumbs up to Terroni for meeting a somewhat strange stranger blogger chick that she only knew from words on a screen. It was a crazy fun night.

Anyway. The system scan is now going on 2 hours. I am never going to conquer this Malware evilness, am I? Feh. I'm ready for bed, so I'l let it do it's thing and hope for a good result.

More later. Gotta go make sure Geoff has enough blankets and is warm enough. And no one let the dogs out tonight so I'll go do that too. Jeeesh.

Resolve

New Year's Resolutions are a joke. I don't make them. I never stick with things, so I break the promises to myself, and then get mad and disappointed at my inability to pursue something resolutely. Losing weight, eating healthy, quality time with the kids? All these things fall by the wayside by the Super Bowl in epic fail fashion.

Year after year, I utter such things as: "This is the year I will do a better job at keeping the house clean, organized and tidy," or "This is the year I'll drop 20 pounds." The house is a continual disaster, and while I never put weight ON it certainly does not come off. So screw it.

Elsewhere on the internet I think the resolution machine has also broken down. When I first started writing a journal in 2001, I noted that my reads would write lists of admirable goals. I noticed this year only one of the people I read actually has a list of goals and resolutions for 2009. I think the wheels fell off our collective wagon, and we're all done with making promises we cannot keep.

So instead of resolving to drop those 20 pounds (really, it should be 80 but let's not mince, shall we?) or put away the pile of crap that has been in the corner of my room since we moved here in 2006, I instead have simpler promises.

I plan to write more.

I plan to sit down and put an entry in at least once a week. No more of this 10-20 days between entries crap. At least once a week. And so far, this is my second one this week so I'll be sure to strain a muscle as I pat myself on the back.

Also, I've been inspired by someone I met on Flickr quite a while ago. His name is Mark, and he and his family live in the Seattle area. He set out to walk/hike/run 1000 miles in 2008. He did it... with completing his last 6 miles 2 days before the end of the year. Mark chronicled his progress with spreadsheets and photos along the way.

Now, a thousand is a lot of miles, so I am going to set the bar lower. I'm going to do 500 this year. Long time readers may hearken back to the geocaching days, when I easily did 500 miles a couple years running. We fell out of the hobby as it got contentious when Doug would consistently go off trail and bushwhack through the woods and we'd all end up injured horribly, thorns and nettles ripping our flesh. It became no fun, and we all would bitch at him. So slowly we stopped going, because he got weary of being yelled at when he turned into Captain Bushwhack, and I just got sick of poison ivy and crying children.

I would like to return to geocaching, without the nettles and crying children. So I will figure out a plan to set to and get going on it when the roads are not treacherously icy. And that's about it.

We'll see how I do with both, shall we?

With that -- time to get ready for work. More later.

Geoff's Birthday

I am finding it hard to believe my son will be 12 tomorrow. For his birthday it looks like he's getting a category four kill storm with ice, snow, freezing rain, sleet and more ice. Oh Joy, Oh Rapture. Happy freaking Birthday.

Seeing as his birthday is horribly overshadowed by the holidays, and I have absolutely no get up and go to pull together a party, it looks like we'll do laser tag with a few friends, come back here for some pizza and guitar hero, and rock out.

He seems perfectly happy with that plan. I just hope it isn't too late to pull a couple friends together for such a shindig. So happy birthday to the little dude. Who isn't so little any more. I'm now pretty much the shortest person in my family, aside from the dogs. It humbles me.

And, lest I forget -- Happy Birthday Amy. Huzzah for your trip 'round the sun as well.

---

Well, the new year came and went. Photos from our activities are located here in the flickr account if you're so inclined.

I had organized the Rebels to do a stint at the First Night celebrations in a nearby town. There was a blizzard going on, and when we got there it was 20 degrees with a bitter wind.

Our outdoor activities were a total wash out. So when it came time to move inside we hoped for something good. We had two spectators in the audience, and 10 Rebels performing. I didn't think it was a washout, because the kids had so much fun together. The two audience members seemed to really like it. I really enjoyed seeing their choices of scenes, monologues and sonnets... and when all was said and done it was a nice thing for them to do, it got us on the Radar Screen for the First Night people, and hopefully a lot better of a slot for next year (and better weather).

After the kids were all picked up or carpooled out to their new year's eve part two, we decided to stick around and check out the festivities. Normally, there are several hundred people there, but all told I bet there weren't more than 200 spectators.

They do a "New Years In Paris" countdown for 7pm, and drop beach balls out onto the street below. It's all for the kiddies, obviously, and I was keen to just watch and check it out. It was brutally freaking cold out there, and the temperature was dropping by the minute. They did the ball drop 10 minutes early, because there was really no sense in waiting and torturing all the little kids.

The beachballs were dropped down to the street below and went from room temperature to ... 18 degrees. They just kind of... plopped when they landed. The air within just deflating the balls, and the plastic became stiff and cracked. We managed to salvage two, so we have a memento from the event. Like I said, hopefully better weather next year.

We came home, late for our drunkening, and watched the ball drop and mocked all that is the annual coverage of this event on TV. We watched Spanish TV, which was highly entertaining even though we couldn't understand 90% of what was being said. All four of us marked the new year together here at home and it was a really nice wrap up to the holiday season.

Happy New Year, everyone.

---

After recovering from the freezing cold of New Years eve, we helped our friends move up in Maine this past weekend. I think we've done this three or four times now. They have moved a bunch, and they have a bunch of kids (six) and a total bunch of stuff.

My roommate from college and her husband were there to help with the move, and it was tons of fun, even though moving rarely ever is. It was nice to be with them, seeing as we suck at going out to where they live.

I had a good two hours with their number four child, who was born on Doug's birthday a short six years ago at the end of this month. I really dig this kid, and we had a tremendously fun time.

Geoff was actually very helpful.

Usually he thinks moving day for the Hydes is just time for him to play with Peteman and the other kids, but he settled in to being a good helper, and even got to ride in the big truck with Mr. Hyde and talk about football.

He really really wanted to ride in the big truck. I mean, really.

I love where they've moved into. It's an in-town location with all kinds of cool restaurants, bookstores, shops... a real lively downtown right outside their door. And they are less than a mile from the ocean. Once they're settled in, I look forward to chillaxing there with them. And having some more Nathan time.

---

The following day we had kind of a mini-college reunion.

A good friend from College, that I've recently reconnected on Facebook, was in town, and it was decided that we should have dinner. An impromptu party was thrown together in Newburyport at the Grog. My two roommates, Bonnie and Laurel, and their husbands, our friend Mark and his wife, and another friend Eric and his daughter, Doug and I, all gathered and had a lot of really good laughs and a good meal.

I sometimes can't believe that 20 years have passed since I've seen Mark, but ... wow. Yeah. It has been that long. It feels like a lot less.

There were a couple of people missing, and it would have been magic if everyone from our little Back In The Day circle could have been there. We have been trying to find our friend Paul and reconnect with him, but he's being evasive and that's sad. I know where he is, but really get the message that his silence means he doesn't want to reconnect, which is okay. I can honor that... but I wish he wouldn't be that way. I love and miss him. And I didn't invite Steve and Elissa because she's preggers, and I figured she may not want to schlep out on a weekend in freezing freaking cold January right after the holidays. I know when I was pregnant that schlepping out when I could be relaxing was often not preferred. So I left them off the invite list. I probably should have given them the choice, but it was a thrown together thing at the last minute and I just didn't.

I felt sorry for Mark's wife and Bonnie's husband having to sit there and listen to us babble about the Back In The Day days. But there was a lot of non-college history talk, and some really insanely wacky clairvoyant stuff that we threw down on some lady walking by named Nancy.

Good times, y'all.

Anyway. That's the big wrap up and update. I didn't make any new year's resolutions, but how about I try and write more? See how I make out with that and how long it is before I break THAT promise. Heh.

Helena & Hermia

I hope everyone's holiday was lovely. Ours was good, more on that later. I had a virus, as did my PC. I currently have my original PC pulled aside to take to someone to give it a jolly good workover. Amy's old PC is here, running and taking care of our Internet and Blogging Needs. Hurrah. The one thing we're lacking is a better video card in her PC to run "Spore" and keep Doug and Geoff happy. But they'll live. As long as I can use Facebook and write in the journal, I'm content. I'll address the video card thing later, once the original PC is healed, and I get a network going to get the second PC online.

Whew.

All told, from the date of the last entry to now it's been busy and chaotic here. The usual stuff that I'm sure all of you have dealt with as well in your own lives. I was sick with a horrible cold and absolutely no gumption (funny how colds just wipe the gumption out of your system) and I had to wait until I got a couple of checks from my parents and Doug's parents so we had money to even go buy presents. Those, of course, came on the Saturday before Christmas.

I didn't even get out to go Christmas shopping until Monday the 22nd. That was actually okay. I went to Best Buy and Target... and the crowds were huge, but manageable.

I got an assortment of gifts for the kidlins. I spent more time standing on line than I did looking for what I wanted.

Geoff got Guitar Hero World Tour, which he's been wanting since the day it was released. We got the version with the drum set and the microphone. So we can have four players at once. Drums, bass, guitar and vocals. It's pretty fun... there are a few songs that just flat out suck. I have no idea why "Shiver" by Coldplay is on there and "Clocks" isn't. Who the hell wants to sing "Shiver" anyway? I hate it.

We didn't see Geoff for a couple of days.

Jess didn't want anything, as she's been reading a lot of Emerson and Tolstoy and is very anti-materialistic and down on the whole hype of consumerist culture. I got her iTunes gift cards, her one indulgence is her music, so she was thrilled to have that but played it down low-key.

And I got Spore for Geoff, but more for Doug because I knew he would want it.

I felt that our gift giving was spotty and weak, mostly due to money and just not having any sort of inspiration. Geoff wants a new camera, but I don't want to spend money on something decent and nice for him (especially after what he pulled this morning on me with MY camera. I'm rather pissed at him and don't want to give him anything worth more than two dollars right now). There was one thing I felt would make Christmas extra super special.

On the way home from work on Christmas Eve, I stopped at the pet store. I felt it was time for a new guinea pig.

After Gordon's passing, we knew that Geoff would be doing a Pet Care badge for Boy Scouts and needed to maintain a log for 4 months on his pet care duties. There's a Dog Care badge, and we noticed that his duties for Dog Care couldn't be duplicated for the Pet Care badge. So, I figured it was time. I'd been looking for a few weeks, and everywhere I went the pigs were male, and huge. I kind of wanted something tiny and young, and female... So as a last ditch effort, I went to one last pet store and walked in to find a display of 18 female guinea pigs, all babies. Wow. My lucky day.

The girl said she had two others out back, that they were much smaller than these ones and a couple weeks younger, around 8 weeks old. She kept them apart because she felt they were too small to compete for the food. She brought them out to me and I ended up buying both of them, because I felt badly about breaking them up. One is black and white (Yes. I know. I have a lot of monochromatic pets). And the other is tortoise with a funny little cowlick on top of her head. I called Jess and asked her to set up the guinea pig cage, clean it up and put it in the brown room, and have it ready for the new arrivals.

She obliged, and I brought them home and snuck them into the house. Quite by accident, Geoff discovered me in my quiet sneaky state. I'd wanted him to come down on Christmas morning and meet them, and be surprised... but he saw what I was doing and turned on his heel to march away quickly with "I see nothing! I SEE NOTHING!" kind of spirit. I called him back and showed him and wished him a merry Christmas.

He helped set the cage up, and put the very terrified and squeeley pigs into the cage. He decided to name them Helena and Hermia, from "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Doug wanted him to name them Twigs and Berries, or Cheddar and Monterrey, but Geoff was having none of that.

Helena is the black and white one... the one who would perceive herself as plain and un-special, but she really is beautiful. Hermia is the tortoise one with the fancy hairdoo. She is fancy and special and all the guys like her... I love how he applied what the characters in the play are like to the actual guinea pigs, and their looks.

They're quite happy little pigs. Helena is quiet and sweet. Geoff takes her out the most. Hermia is fast and noisy. When we try and take her out of the cage she screams like we're going to kill her. And then snuggles right in for a good cuddle.

Geoff is tracking his care, and doing the feeding and cleaning. I think this is my favorite gift this year. They're really cute and sweet... and much better than a DS game or Guitar Hero. Really.

---

In the meantime, the office was very quiet this week.

A lot of people on vacation, and a lot of peace and productivity. I'm scheduled out to the end of January, and feel relaxed and organized. That's a nice way to start the new year. Or end the current one, I guess.

My girl C was laid off, which broke my heart. I will miss her walking into my office every day and saying "What up, bitches!" and flopping down into the chair by TJ's desk. I inherited on part of her job, and it's kept me busy, getting the feel of how she did things and figuring out all the ins and outs of her process. The first week I had to do it, it took me 15 hours to get the job done. This week I had it done in 4 hours... and was happy at how it made the afternoon fly.

---

I took today off, and this afternoon am taking a group of Rebel Shakespeare kids to perform at the Beverly First Night celebrations. We have about 7 kids who are on the docket for the afternoon and I'm wondering if others will just show up if they feel like it. They can be fickle.

The plan is to perform in the street for an hour, and then we have an indoor performance space for 45 minutes where the kids can do scenes, monologues, sonnets. I may even do "Blow, blow thou winter wind" myself. Who knows. It's amazing what you can remember from high school choir. Sing high-ho the holly.

It's a good thing we have indoor space... initially we were supposed to be 100% outdoors, but the coordinator wanted to give us space to perform so she worked it out. If it goes well, hopefully this can be an annual thing. It's a heck of a kick-off to the 20th anniversary year for Rebel though.

We're looking at about 8 inches of snow today. So that kind of sucks for the performing out-of-doors portion of the program. Hopefully the kids will be able to make good of it and have high spirits. At least not give up and blow it off, not showing up because of the weather would suck.

Right then. On that note. I am off for more coffee and perhaps a bagel. If you're in the area, come to First Night Beverly. Don't be shy or scared of the snow. And if we don't see you ... Happy New Year. Hopefully it'll be a good one. I'll give you a little link here to Barenaked Ladies singing "Auld Lang Syne..." it's a windows media file, so hopefully you can play it. I don't have it as an MP3. If you can hear it, great... if not. Oh well, I tried.

Be well, and we'll chat next year. Okay?

Oh little town... About Philips Brooks and his little hymn.

Earlier this week at church we had a carol sing. Just a casual night of singing the greatest hits of Christmas. People who know me well know that the one song that "gets to me" is "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem."

I looked at the hymnal as we got ready to sing this song and saw the author's name for the very first time. Phillips Brooks.

Phillips Brooks? Really now.

I was suddenly struck with recognition of the name. I pass a statue of him every time I drive through North Andover, Massachusetts and the green there. Phillips Brooks.

I tied the name on the statue in my head to the man, and figured there couldn't be any OTHER Phillips Brooks running around out there who might have something to do with North Andover, Massachusetts or Hymns of the Christian Church. There had to be some interesting history, something to think about there.

I did a little digging into who the man was behind the hymn. Wikipedia is the most fun source. Finding out that his grandfather founded Phillips Academy (and he was named after the man) and that Endicott Peabody (two names that are entrenched in the history of northeatern Massachusetts) named Brooks School for him, which is a couple miles away from my house were interesting facts.

I had no idea that he was the bishop of the Episcopal Church of Massachusetts. I had no idea that he was a heavyweight in philosophical and religious identity here in Massachusetts, opposing slavery and strongly siding with Lincoln in the abolitionist movements in American History. When he died, thousands of mourners poured out to grieve him and celebrate his life. And to me, he was just a name on a statue that I drove past.

And I didn't realize his connection to something very close to my heart. This man wrote the one song that brings me to deep and profound ponderances and tears during Christmas.

"The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight."

That one line always makes me cry. The concepts of what was crouching towards Bethlehem that Christmas night. The journey that Joseph made with his not-yet wife but knocked-up fiance Mary. The fears. The confusion. The uncertainty. The "you've got to be kidding me" kinds of concepts surrounding the birth of a once and future king.

And Phillips Brooks sums it all up for us all in one little hymn. The darkest and saddest of the Christmas songs. Not the trumpeting angels of "Joy to the World" and "Hark! the Herald Angels Sing." The anticipation and confusion of the holiday and impending birth of the savior are summed up so amazingly in this one little song.

Wow. What a sudden epiphany for me this late in life, to suddenly connect a statue of a man that I drive past on a green to the song that speaks most strongly to me during the Advent Season.

It brings me to tears. It rocks my world. That one little hymn, carol, Christmas song, means so much to me that I cannot explain why. And I am so glad to finally and quite accidentally learn about its author.

At this late point in the Advent Season... on this cold and snow, dark and quiet night, I ponder deeply the meaning of what is happening at this time of year. Preparing my own heart for the welcoming of the Christ Child, I ask you to look at your life, and consider what the hopes and fears of all the years are right now for you.

Are you afraid for you job?

Afraid of money problems? Losing your home?

Are you sad, do you feel deeply lonely and lost?

Yes. We all do. We really do. But there was, and I do believe this deeply, there was a young lady who had a baby and instead of having him in a hospital she had him in a stable. And on that dark and quiet night, that sad and lonely moment, the world changed.

Lives changed.

Your life changed.

And the hopes and fears of all the years were focused upon that one little city, that one little shed. And we all prepare for that moment this time of year.

Forget everything else. Just think about that hymn. This hymn. That song, this moment.

Happy Advent. May your heart begin to be filled. Make your heart meek. Receive.

Happy Advent indeed.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above,
While mortlas sleep, the angels keep their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars, together proclaim the holy birth!
And praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on earth.

How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is giv'n!
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heav'n.
No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him, still the dear Christ enters in.

O holy Child of Bethlehem! descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin and enter in, be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Immanuel.

I have the plague, and my PC does too

It's been a while since I've had a good bone rattlin' "-itis." This year I've maintained a good track record of being cold and flu and illness free. Aside from some minor allergies in the spring, I think a headache or two is all I've had to fell me.

So of course, the weekend before Christmas I come down with a massive cold that whips me like a rented mule and leaves me for dead by the side of the road.

It started on Tuesday afternoon, I felt it coming, grinding my throat and making it sore. Hot water and honey made it feel a little better but the water could just never be hot enough, no matter how hot I made it, and I started to fade fast.

On Thursday, I called out sick and after taking Geoff to school came home, fired up the DVR and watched "Red Eye" (which is actually quite funny) and slept the entire day. At about 4pm I realized that Geoff had a date with the boy scouts to go do laser tag, and I'd agreed to chaperone.

Oh yeah, that's great. I feel like someone should be putting me onto a cart and wheeling me out of town while hollering "Bring out your dead!" and I'm going to go herd cats at a laser tag facility.

Um, Doug? Can you meet me there and take over for me? Kthxbi.

Doug reluctantly did come and take my place, and I was grateful... I knew I couldn't bear to be there for too long.

As part of the trade off, I agreed to make a trip to the grocery store. Which, as you know turned into me having to fight the mongrel hoards pillaging for all the milk, bread and eggs they possibly could due to the encroaching category four killstorm that was expected to arrive on Friday. The grocery store was packed, I was in a cold sweat, but I made it out alive and was curled up on the couch with a box of tissues before the boys were home from laser tag.

At work yesterday we had our holiday party and they released us at 1pm because of the aforementioned category four killstorm. I ended up working until 2:30, wrapping something up that came in last minute, that I really could have used another hour or two with, and drove home in a daze.

Unlike the massive category four killstorm we had last year at about this time, neither Doug nor I got stuck in traffic, and it didn't take seven hours to get home. I was home in a little more than an hour, and curled up on the couch by the fire comfortably before I knew it. I went up to lay down at 6pm, and slept until 9:30 this morning.

I still don't feel right or good or better. It's all in my nose and throat and head, which is the worst place for it to be, until I cough and I sound like someone who would be rejected at Ellis Island if I were trying to enter the country as an immigrant. Hopefully this will wrap up quickly.

I've written here before that I am forever grateful to the dirtbags of the world who figured out how to melt down over the counter medicines and extract their properties to make speed, so now whenever I buy some cold medicine it is as effective and helpful as a kick in the teeth. Thanks, meth heads! you've made my life better! Jerks.

I have a lot to do. And by a lot I mean everything.

I stopped and bought a Christmas tree on the way home yesterday. Yes, yesterday. At one place I stopped I knew the woman running the place. She works for the company my office used to be located next door to. She had these horrible Charlie Brown christmas trees and wanted $25 for them. None of them were taller than four feet, and they were threadbare and sad. I felt bad walking away, but there was no way I was going to pay that for ... that.

Near our house there is a greenhouse, and I scored a very pretty little tree for $40, twenty bucks off the asking price. Doug said I paid too much, but after seeing the $25 Charlie Brown trees I think I got my money's worth. And I wanted to tell him to shove it because hell, I stopped and bought the damn thing. You're welcome.

To be honest I wouldn't do anything at all if Geoff weren't so gung ho into it.

I honestly couldn't be arsed to put up a tree this year. But the boy just wants that whole happy shiny tree thing. It's really hard to be in the spirit these days except for him... Sometimes that's a blessing, other times a burden.

---

I sat down here this morning and discovered that there is some sort of something happening virus-wise on the PC. Whenever I'm surfing the web all sorts of web browser windows will just start opening up randomly, with Edmunds.com and Maxim.com and Playboy.com and all sorts of other websites on them... but the URL in the toolbar doesn't match the page it is bringing up. I guess my virus protection wasn't doing what it was supposed to be doing. Has anyone else had any experience with this?

I've scanned and rescanned and downloaded some extra scanning stuff, and it is still happening so it is bothering me greatly. For five hours today I've been running scans and it is still happening. And I just want to pitch the damn PC out the window into the snow.

---

Speaking of the snow, I have no idea how much we got, whether it is six inches or a foot. It's hard to tell. The fence top looks like two inches but I guess that's because the wind blew the snow off, and the yard looks plenty deep because Brodie is sure having a fun time running through the snow as it comes up to her middle. Doug went out and did the snow removal, I suppose I could ask him, but he's got a headache and is napping...

I think it is his turn with the -itis.