I don’t know what people down here call these things, but they look like little burrs or balls of thorns. I also don’t know where they come from, except they’re found in the grass. What I do know is that they get stuck on everything.
Mostly they get stuck on the bottom of my shoes. Then I drag them inside where they get stuck on the carpet. Later, I come through barefoot and step on them. Ouch! I stepped on three in my bedroom just this morning. And I have quite a collection of them in my car – probably a hundred.
Yet another strike against Texas…
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Well, the week started off with an explosion. Okay, not exactly. Work was more like a three- ring circus in which I was attempting to swing on the trapeze, walk a tightrope and do a clown act – simultaneously. As I am sitting here typing this now, you will know that I somehow managed to survive.
I started tennis lessons this week. I have them on Mondays and Wednesday evenings. I am in a class of about six people. It’s a lot of fun. I really enjoy it after a day in the office. And I can keep up as well as learn a lot.
Tuesday evening my grandfather called me on the way home from work. He asked if I would need to use the microwave to make dinner that evening. I said I didn’t think so, and he said that was good because it broke on him that afternoon. And so began the 36-hour crisis of not having a microwave. For the next morning I was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast and answering e-mails when I hear Grandpa from the cabinet cry out, “Oh, no!” I glanced over and saw him standing before the toaster. I thought, “Oh, great, now the toaster has broken too – what is Grandpa going to do?” Well, thankfully, it wasn’t the toaster. Grandpa was just trying to figure out how he was going to warm his spam and his coffee that morning without a microwave. Not to worry, though. He went and bought a microwave that afternoon. I picked it up on my way to tennis and installed it that night.
I visited a very nice church on Sunday. A little distant, but I liked it. It’s hard to explain how difficult it is to visit a church all by yourself. Or have such a decision weighing on your mind alone. It’s enough to make me not really care as long as I can slip in and slip out without being noticed – which goes against everything I believe about the Church of God. But why is it that a church can have everything but one detail? And is that detail important or not? (In this case, the version of the Bible used – not that they use the book of Mormon or anything. They use ESV while I’ve always been used to using KJV.) And so do I visit another church? Finding a church in Texas is overwhelming. You should try googling “Churches in Denton, TX”. You get over a hundred hits…
Why is it so often promotions seem like demotions? It seems I’m a quick learner – and I work fast. I already knew the latter, and I guess I knew the former but I don’t think much about it. After all, I can do office work in my sleep. Some people might think that a gift – I think it will become monotonous within six months or less. (Except the constant wrestling with insurance companies which isn’t monotonous, just plain frustrating!!!!) But as of Friday, I am officially the office manager and my training period is more-or-less over. Which means if billing is successful this coming week, I also get a raise. Not bad for two weeks of work.
And with all this, writing has taken a back seat for a while. At least, writing in the sense of actually putting words on paper. In my mind, I am always writing some something. But I may have a lead on a writer’s group or two. I intend to complete the notes on the new book I want to write today with the goal of writing one chapter a week. And I bought post-it notes. You may wonder what kind of accomplishment that is but if you visit me anytime during the next four or five months and glance into my bedroom, you’ll understand.
I started tennis lessons this week. I have them on Mondays and Wednesday evenings. I am in a class of about six people. It’s a lot of fun. I really enjoy it after a day in the office. And I can keep up as well as learn a lot.
Tuesday evening my grandfather called me on the way home from work. He asked if I would need to use the microwave to make dinner that evening. I said I didn’t think so, and he said that was good because it broke on him that afternoon. And so began the 36-hour crisis of not having a microwave. For the next morning I was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast and answering e-mails when I hear Grandpa from the cabinet cry out, “Oh, no!” I glanced over and saw him standing before the toaster. I thought, “Oh, great, now the toaster has broken too – what is Grandpa going to do?” Well, thankfully, it wasn’t the toaster. Grandpa was just trying to figure out how he was going to warm his spam and his coffee that morning without a microwave. Not to worry, though. He went and bought a microwave that afternoon. I picked it up on my way to tennis and installed it that night.
I visited a very nice church on Sunday. A little distant, but I liked it. It’s hard to explain how difficult it is to visit a church all by yourself. Or have such a decision weighing on your mind alone. It’s enough to make me not really care as long as I can slip in and slip out without being noticed – which goes against everything I believe about the Church of God. But why is it that a church can have everything but one detail? And is that detail important or not? (In this case, the version of the Bible used – not that they use the book of Mormon or anything. They use ESV while I’ve always been used to using KJV.) And so do I visit another church? Finding a church in Texas is overwhelming. You should try googling “Churches in Denton, TX”. You get over a hundred hits…
Why is it so often promotions seem like demotions? It seems I’m a quick learner – and I work fast. I already knew the latter, and I guess I knew the former but I don’t think much about it. After all, I can do office work in my sleep. Some people might think that a gift – I think it will become monotonous within six months or less. (Except the constant wrestling with insurance companies which isn’t monotonous, just plain frustrating!!!!) But as of Friday, I am officially the office manager and my training period is more-or-less over. Which means if billing is successful this coming week, I also get a raise. Not bad for two weeks of work.
And with all this, writing has taken a back seat for a while. At least, writing in the sense of actually putting words on paper. In my mind, I am always writing some something. But I may have a lead on a writer’s group or two. I intend to complete the notes on the new book I want to write today with the goal of writing one chapter a week. And I bought post-it notes. You may wonder what kind of accomplishment that is but if you visit me anytime during the next four or five months and glance into my bedroom, you’ll understand.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Well, I have survived. My first full week of work is at an end and I am wiling away the hours of my Saturday with chores, little projects, and writing stuff I haven’t figured out how to get done during the week yet. All in all, it’s been a good week.
My training sessions were on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Thankfully they are not over yet for there a lot of things I don’t yet know how to do (like the all important Medicare billing). But I am getting pretty comfortable with inserting new patients into the data base, checking the status of the patients in the Medicare system, compiling the first Medicare form and – of course – organizing. I can see the bottom of my desk, I know where things are I might need frequently, and the administrator for the home health aid and I have finished sorting half of the old patient charts so they can actually be found.
I think I have met all the nurses and the aids. And I have learned more about getting old and dying than I care to know. I never wanted to live to be a hundred, but now I really hope I die young.
Texas has not changed. We did get a surprise rain shower early Friday morning. That’s very odd here, but the state always needs rain. I walked out the door Friday morning to clouds, a wet driveway, and a gloriously cool breeze. Of course, that lasted all of an hour. When I went jogging that evening, I came back hot and sweaty as always.
My grandfather and I are adjusting to living together. And now I know I never want to be a working mother. How do those women work all day long and then come home to take care of a family? I don’t care how “wonder woman” you are: something has got to be falling in the cracks.
But all in all, it hasn’t been a bad week. Some parts of it have been profitable. Other parts I feel are lacking and I need to adjust. I can’t say I’ve been homesick exactly – I haven’t had time. In fact, I’ve hardly had time to think about more than all the stuff I’ve crammed into my head this week. Which may be why this post is a little disjointed. But we’re working on that. In a few more weeks, I’m sure everything will fall into its proper place: work, writing, times with friends, church.
At least, I hope so…
My training sessions were on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Thankfully they are not over yet for there a lot of things I don’t yet know how to do (like the all important Medicare billing). But I am getting pretty comfortable with inserting new patients into the data base, checking the status of the patients in the Medicare system, compiling the first Medicare form and – of course – organizing. I can see the bottom of my desk, I know where things are I might need frequently, and the administrator for the home health aid and I have finished sorting half of the old patient charts so they can actually be found.
I think I have met all the nurses and the aids. And I have learned more about getting old and dying than I care to know. I never wanted to live to be a hundred, but now I really hope I die young.
Texas has not changed. We did get a surprise rain shower early Friday morning. That’s very odd here, but the state always needs rain. I walked out the door Friday morning to clouds, a wet driveway, and a gloriously cool breeze. Of course, that lasted all of an hour. When I went jogging that evening, I came back hot and sweaty as always.
My grandfather and I are adjusting to living together. And now I know I never want to be a working mother. How do those women work all day long and then come home to take care of a family? I don’t care how “wonder woman” you are: something has got to be falling in the cracks.
But all in all, it hasn’t been a bad week. Some parts of it have been profitable. Other parts I feel are lacking and I need to adjust. I can’t say I’ve been homesick exactly – I haven’t had time. In fact, I’ve hardly had time to think about more than all the stuff I’ve crammed into my head this week. Which may be why this post is a little disjointed. But we’re working on that. In a few more weeks, I’m sure everything will fall into its proper place: work, writing, times with friends, church.
At least, I hope so…
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Well, I have survived. Don’t ask me what exactly I did today, but I made it through my first day of work.
Getting to work was easy this morning. I was fifteen minutes early, but that was okay. Now I know the way and how long it will take me to get there, so I will leave five minutes later tomorrow just to see how traffic will be five minutes later.
The first couple of hours entailed paperwork for me to fill out and reading some of the employee’s manual. All I can say is I am so happy not 90% of it applies to me since I’m not a nurse. For I have officially decided (as if I didn’t know this before) I am not going to become a nurse. After that I met with Mr. Harris, my boss, for a while to have a few things explained. Then I started “work”. Well, we’ll call it work but mostly it was doing odd things just to get a taste of it all and feeling like I was listening to a foreign language.
Office work isn’t bad. I’ll get used to that real soon. Putting in data and filing papers is second nature. The problem is understanding what I am filing where, what all the date exactly means, and how to find everything. It’s still Greek to me. Lots of numbers, and acronyms, and realizing (as if I didn’t know this already) how complicated government healthcare already is. Those people in Washington should spend one day in my shoes – they’d reconsider “healthcare reform” real fast.
The people I work with are real nice. There’s Dinah who’s the administrator of the nurses. I met two of the nurses, both who seemed very nice. Then there’s Tori who is setting up the home health service the company will soon be providing. Jane is the new social worker. She is a little younger than me and just started fulltime this week. We went to lunch and immediately found common ground: the dazed looks we both wear on our faces. My “personal trainer” is Allan. He spins circles and has piles everywhere. I’m not sure if that makes me more confused or less, but at least he’s helpful. Oh, and my boss. I’ve always found Mr. Harris to be a kind man.
So, I came home overwhelmed, but I left work at work. Had dinner with Grandpa, talked to him for a while, went for a jog, took a shower and am now doing a few odd things before I hit the sack. All in all, not a bad day.
We’ll see what tomorrow is like….
Getting to work was easy this morning. I was fifteen minutes early, but that was okay. Now I know the way and how long it will take me to get there, so I will leave five minutes later tomorrow just to see how traffic will be five minutes later.
The first couple of hours entailed paperwork for me to fill out and reading some of the employee’s manual. All I can say is I am so happy not 90% of it applies to me since I’m not a nurse. For I have officially decided (as if I didn’t know this before) I am not going to become a nurse. After that I met with Mr. Harris, my boss, for a while to have a few things explained. Then I started “work”. Well, we’ll call it work but mostly it was doing odd things just to get a taste of it all and feeling like I was listening to a foreign language.
Office work isn’t bad. I’ll get used to that real soon. Putting in data and filing papers is second nature. The problem is understanding what I am filing where, what all the date exactly means, and how to find everything. It’s still Greek to me. Lots of numbers, and acronyms, and realizing (as if I didn’t know this already) how complicated government healthcare already is. Those people in Washington should spend one day in my shoes – they’d reconsider “healthcare reform” real fast.
The people I work with are real nice. There’s Dinah who’s the administrator of the nurses. I met two of the nurses, both who seemed very nice. Then there’s Tori who is setting up the home health service the company will soon be providing. Jane is the new social worker. She is a little younger than me and just started fulltime this week. We went to lunch and immediately found common ground: the dazed looks we both wear on our faces. My “personal trainer” is Allan. He spins circles and has piles everywhere. I’m not sure if that makes me more confused or less, but at least he’s helpful. Oh, and my boss. I’ve always found Mr. Harris to be a kind man.
So, I came home overwhelmed, but I left work at work. Had dinner with Grandpa, talked to him for a while, went for a jog, took a shower and am now doing a few odd things before I hit the sack. All in all, not a bad day.
We’ll see what tomorrow is like….
Friday, August 14, 2009
Heat, Heat, Heat
Well, I’m here. I am in Texas. And I’m glad the trip is over with. Not because anything happened – I had no trouble at all – but because two days in a car is exhausting. And boring. And leaves lots of time to think about how you could be spending those hours doing something profitable.
I left home Thursday morning around 7:30. It was hard to leave. I couldn’t help wondering what in the world I think I am doing. The drive from Indiana to Illinois was uneventful. Flat fields, soy, corn – nothing to look at. Illinois wasn’t much better, except it’s just fields and not much corn.
Then I came to Missouri. First is St. Louis, which I drove almost all the way around and so saw the Arch at every possible angle. They don’t make it easy to drive and look in the city, though. The lanes were narrow and bordered with concrete on both sides. But I managed to look some.
Missouri is a bit more scenic. It has hills. It has trees. It also has dead armadillos on the sides of the road. (I hadn’t realized they lived that far north.) I stopped in Joplin that night, just east of the Oklahoma border. I arrived about 4 in the afternoon, now in Central time. I was glad, for I changed into my swim suit, went down to the indoor pool and swam laps. No one else was there except a few kids that came in for a short time but whose mother took them to the outside pool because it was warmer. I liked the cold, and it felt so good to work out all my stiff limbs. Afterwards I grabbed a bite to eat and flipped through channels. There wasn’t much to watch, but I did get the remote to myself so I could flip as slow or as fast as I wanted to.
The hotel was quite large with a convention center and everything, and the convention of the day had something to do with corvettes. I think it was just starting because I saw only a dozen the day I arrived. More arrived that morning, and I met some on the interstate heading in that direction. Nice cars. And in all colors: white, orange, yellow, silver, blue, purple with yellow streaks, and every shade of red imaginable.
I left the hotel a little after ten and was in Oklahoma within a half hour. Oklahoma is one of those places where it’s really hard not to stereotype a race of people. They practically ask for it with their license plates picturing Indians. I thought about counting casinos today, but I refrained. I probably saw a dozen, but I saw billboards for fifty more. You drive through that state and you see signs reading, “You are now entering Kickapoo Nation” as if we should expect cowboys and Indians dashing about with bows and arrows and guns. I didn’t see any of that, but I did get a new concept of the “Trail of Tears”. Who wouldn’t cry if they left their homes of beautiful mountains and tall trees to plain rolling hills where trees refuse to grow very high or very dense?
A very small part of Oklahoma as you enter Texas – called the Arbuckle Mountains – is somewhat scenic. It looks like the movies you see of the old west, except its more scenic heading north than heading south as I was today. Then you hit Texas: flat, treeless, hot and full of concrete and people the closer you get to Dallas. Yet these people love their state (or should I say country?). You can feel their pride the moment you cross the border and see the state (or country) flag waving everywhere – sometimes on equal standing with the American flag. (Which, by the way, is legal in Texas. It’s allowed because Texas was once – or still is? – a nation itself.) Texas. I felt like I did thirteen years ago when I crossed that border and it was 100 degrees – I wanted to turn around and head to someplace cooler.
But I am here. And I am here to stay for a time…although I haven’t unpacked yet. I’ll get to rest a little bit this weekend, and then I start work on Monday. It’s a little overwhelming. But that’s good. It reminds me of how much I need to trust my God. He has seen me thus far…I know He isn’t leaving me now.
I left home Thursday morning around 7:30. It was hard to leave. I couldn’t help wondering what in the world I think I am doing. The drive from Indiana to Illinois was uneventful. Flat fields, soy, corn – nothing to look at. Illinois wasn’t much better, except it’s just fields and not much corn.
Then I came to Missouri. First is St. Louis, which I drove almost all the way around and so saw the Arch at every possible angle. They don’t make it easy to drive and look in the city, though. The lanes were narrow and bordered with concrete on both sides. But I managed to look some.
Missouri is a bit more scenic. It has hills. It has trees. It also has dead armadillos on the sides of the road. (I hadn’t realized they lived that far north.) I stopped in Joplin that night, just east of the Oklahoma border. I arrived about 4 in the afternoon, now in Central time. I was glad, for I changed into my swim suit, went down to the indoor pool and swam laps. No one else was there except a few kids that came in for a short time but whose mother took them to the outside pool because it was warmer. I liked the cold, and it felt so good to work out all my stiff limbs. Afterwards I grabbed a bite to eat and flipped through channels. There wasn’t much to watch, but I did get the remote to myself so I could flip as slow or as fast as I wanted to.
The hotel was quite large with a convention center and everything, and the convention of the day had something to do with corvettes. I think it was just starting because I saw only a dozen the day I arrived. More arrived that morning, and I met some on the interstate heading in that direction. Nice cars. And in all colors: white, orange, yellow, silver, blue, purple with yellow streaks, and every shade of red imaginable.
I left the hotel a little after ten and was in Oklahoma within a half hour. Oklahoma is one of those places where it’s really hard not to stereotype a race of people. They practically ask for it with their license plates picturing Indians. I thought about counting casinos today, but I refrained. I probably saw a dozen, but I saw billboards for fifty more. You drive through that state and you see signs reading, “You are now entering Kickapoo Nation” as if we should expect cowboys and Indians dashing about with bows and arrows and guns. I didn’t see any of that, but I did get a new concept of the “Trail of Tears”. Who wouldn’t cry if they left their homes of beautiful mountains and tall trees to plain rolling hills where trees refuse to grow very high or very dense?
A very small part of Oklahoma as you enter Texas – called the Arbuckle Mountains – is somewhat scenic. It looks like the movies you see of the old west, except its more scenic heading north than heading south as I was today. Then you hit Texas: flat, treeless, hot and full of concrete and people the closer you get to Dallas. Yet these people love their state (or should I say country?). You can feel their pride the moment you cross the border and see the state (or country) flag waving everywhere – sometimes on equal standing with the American flag. (Which, by the way, is legal in Texas. It’s allowed because Texas was once – or still is? – a nation itself.) Texas. I felt like I did thirteen years ago when I crossed that border and it was 100 degrees – I wanted to turn around and head to someplace cooler.
But I am here. And I am here to stay for a time…although I haven’t unpacked yet. I’ll get to rest a little bit this weekend, and then I start work on Monday. It’s a little overwhelming. But that’s good. It reminds me of how much I need to trust my God. He has seen me thus far…I know He isn’t leaving me now.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Unofficial Holidays, Part 4 of 6
Everyone grab a long stick, a bag of marshmallows, a box of graham crackers, and a package of chocolate. Oh, and someone needs to build a camp fire. Why? Because today is national S’mores Day!
Ever since the Girl Scouts included the first s’mores recipe in their 1927 handbook, this popular campfire treat has been the delight of millions. And it has a million different varieties.
At our house, it is most popular to set a square graham cracker with a couple a rectangles of a Hershey chocolate bar (dark or regular – the creator’s preference) near the fire to soften the chocolate while the marshmallows are toasted. (Of course, on a hot day the chocolate will melt itself.) Everyone in the family has a different degree of toasty-ness, but when the one or two marshmallows are ready, we slide them onto another graham crackers, sandwich the two together and ENJOY!
Now, if William is at our house, he gives us a ten-minute lecture on the correct way to make s’mores and how one day he is going to write a book on the subject. Then some people have tried a s’more with chocolate chip cookies instead of graham crackers. And when some of us were real young, we’d do it in the microwave!
Believe it or not, there are already books written about s’mores. At our library there is one called “Gourmet S’mores”. Think s’mores with apples and caramel, turtle s’mores, coffee s’mores, and s’mores with Snickers, Crunch Bars or your favorite candy bar. The possibilities are endless.
So, today on S’mores Day, see what varieties you can come up. Or just enjoy the “old-fashioned” way – for some things just don’t need to be improved upon.
Ever since the Girl Scouts included the first s’mores recipe in their 1927 handbook, this popular campfire treat has been the delight of millions. And it has a million different varieties.
At our house, it is most popular to set a square graham cracker with a couple a rectangles of a Hershey chocolate bar (dark or regular – the creator’s preference) near the fire to soften the chocolate while the marshmallows are toasted. (Of course, on a hot day the chocolate will melt itself.) Everyone in the family has a different degree of toasty-ness, but when the one or two marshmallows are ready, we slide them onto another graham crackers, sandwich the two together and ENJOY!
Now, if William is at our house, he gives us a ten-minute lecture on the correct way to make s’mores and how one day he is going to write a book on the subject. Then some people have tried a s’more with chocolate chip cookies instead of graham crackers. And when some of us were real young, we’d do it in the microwave!
Believe it or not, there are already books written about s’mores. At our library there is one called “Gourmet S’mores”. Think s’mores with apples and caramel, turtle s’mores, coffee s’mores, and s’mores with Snickers, Crunch Bars or your favorite candy bar. The possibilities are endless.
So, today on S’mores Day, see what varieties you can come up. Or just enjoy the “old-fashioned” way – for some things just don’t need to be improved upon.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Scenes from my Week
˜ I’ve heard praise and chorus songs in church spoken of as many things, but a friend calling them “7-11” songs was a new one. What does that mean? You know: songs when the same 7 lines sang 11 times over and over again.
˜ This week when Mom told us we would leave the house around ten to go to the used bookstore, Caleb responded, “Why so early?” He’s slept in until eleven or twelve almost every day this week.
˜ Jenny finished Algebra 2 this week – and Mom went out and bought an ice cream cake to celebrate. Not for Jenny. For Mom.
˜ I’ve been meticulously cleaning my room and packing, for I leave on Thursday. I’m taking maybe a tenth of what I own, and yet I already wonder from the piles in my room if I’m taking too much. It’s only when you pack that you realize how much you truly own!
˜ I became a one-handed basketball player this week. It is possible, but catching and shooting are encumbered a bit. I jammed my left ring-finger pretty well when I went up for rebound. This morning it is still swollen, stiff and a bit bruised around the middle.
˜ I think I got most of the “important” things done this week in preparation for my move, but I still have a list of odd things to do and purchase before I leave. And the list is getting longer before it gets shorter…
˜ Keep me in your prayers. I’m not really nervous or anxious about this. I asked the Lord for peace when I made the decision, and He has answered that prayer. But I know there are many things ahead I have no idea about. (Innocence is bliss!) Mostly that I adjust to a full time job and the heat. I find a good church where I can grow, serve and make friends. And my grandfather and I learn to live with one another quickly. And any number of other things that flitter across my mind, but just pray that the Lord goes before me and makes my way straight.
˜ This week when Mom told us we would leave the house around ten to go to the used bookstore, Caleb responded, “Why so early?” He’s slept in until eleven or twelve almost every day this week.
˜ Jenny finished Algebra 2 this week – and Mom went out and bought an ice cream cake to celebrate. Not for Jenny. For Mom.
˜ I’ve been meticulously cleaning my room and packing, for I leave on Thursday. I’m taking maybe a tenth of what I own, and yet I already wonder from the piles in my room if I’m taking too much. It’s only when you pack that you realize how much you truly own!
˜ I became a one-handed basketball player this week. It is possible, but catching and shooting are encumbered a bit. I jammed my left ring-finger pretty well when I went up for rebound. This morning it is still swollen, stiff and a bit bruised around the middle.
˜ I think I got most of the “important” things done this week in preparation for my move, but I still have a list of odd things to do and purchase before I leave. And the list is getting longer before it gets shorter…
˜ Keep me in your prayers. I’m not really nervous or anxious about this. I asked the Lord for peace when I made the decision, and He has answered that prayer. But I know there are many things ahead I have no idea about. (Innocence is bliss!) Mostly that I adjust to a full time job and the heat. I find a good church where I can grow, serve and make friends. And my grandfather and I learn to live with one another quickly. And any number of other things that flitter across my mind, but just pray that the Lord goes before me and makes my way straight.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Today we went to our first used bookstore in Indiana. We had seen a sign for it once and I heard about it at my writer’s group. Being a family of avid books shoppers, we couldn’t pass such a thing up, now could we? So, off we went.
We weren’t sure what time it opened, and we arrived a half hour before it did but the man very kindly opened for us anyhow. He asked each of us if he could help us find something, but as we’re all browsers we said no thanks.
It wasn’t a huge store. Long, but just one floor. It had a fair share of books. I think the most interesting part about it was the bookseller.
The man was probably in his fifties. I don’t know how long he’s been in the business, but when we all came up with lots of purchases off the dollars shelf (or six for five dollars and so I added Abby’s to my pile – I got five really old books out of the deal, one even signed by the author for less than a dollar a piece!) he told us that when he was a kid he loved the dollar shelves in bookstores because that was all he could afford. So, he determined he would always have a dollar shelf (or half a wall of them as the case may be). He asked if we were from the area. We told him we had moved here in November. He asked from where. We told him New Hampshire. Then he went on and on about the wonderful used bookstores that are found in New England. He followed this up with a history lesson:
When the Puritans came to New England, all of them were literate. And, as they took education very seriously, they taught the following generations to read. Descendents of those men and women followed the Great Lakes west, settling around them. Up there, you can find some really nice used bookstores. However, those who settled middle Indiana and south were from a little of everywhere. Most came to hunt, farm and fight Indians. They were not literate. What need had they to read? Because of that, used books in the middle and southern parts of Indiana are very rare.
I had never thought much about the literacy of the American people, for America has always had a very high literacy rate and I take the ability to read for granted. But isn’t it interesting that even reading and books have left a mark on our history?
We weren’t sure what time it opened, and we arrived a half hour before it did but the man very kindly opened for us anyhow. He asked each of us if he could help us find something, but as we’re all browsers we said no thanks.
It wasn’t a huge store. Long, but just one floor. It had a fair share of books. I think the most interesting part about it was the bookseller.
The man was probably in his fifties. I don’t know how long he’s been in the business, but when we all came up with lots of purchases off the dollars shelf (or six for five dollars and so I added Abby’s to my pile – I got five really old books out of the deal, one even signed by the author for less than a dollar a piece!) he told us that when he was a kid he loved the dollar shelves in bookstores because that was all he could afford. So, he determined he would always have a dollar shelf (or half a wall of them as the case may be). He asked if we were from the area. We told him we had moved here in November. He asked from where. We told him New Hampshire. Then he went on and on about the wonderful used bookstores that are found in New England. He followed this up with a history lesson:
When the Puritans came to New England, all of them were literate. And, as they took education very seriously, they taught the following generations to read. Descendents of those men and women followed the Great Lakes west, settling around them. Up there, you can find some really nice used bookstores. However, those who settled middle Indiana and south were from a little of everywhere. Most came to hunt, farm and fight Indians. They were not literate. What need had they to read? Because of that, used books in the middle and southern parts of Indiana are very rare.
I had never thought much about the literacy of the American people, for America has always had a very high literacy rate and I take the ability to read for granted. But isn’t it interesting that even reading and books have left a mark on our history?
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Dog Days of Summer
In celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Art Museum of Greater Lafayette and the 50th anniversary of the Purdue University School of Veterinary Medicine, these two establishments and many other sponsors from around the city of Lafayette have created the “Dog Days of Summer”. Forty-one artists gathered to create forty-one statues of dogs which were then scattered about Lafayette and West Lafayette. Today, my family split up into two teams and went on a scavenger hunt.
Thanks to vandals, about six of the dogs have been completely removed from the streets. The others have been moved into shop windows, lobbies, and the Art Museum itself. This made the hunt a bit difficult (not to mention taking pictures of the ones in store windows). But altogether, we achieved in finding thirty-one of the dogs. And we had a couple hours of one-way streets, circling blocks half-a-dozen times, impatience and fun. We ended it all at Culvers for frozen custard.
All of the dogs are creative and artistic. They’re unique, too, and many of them have very cute names. It’s quite hard to choose which ones to post here on my blog, but I limited myself to five. (And, no, I did not choose the one supporting Obama – too bad a vandal did get a hold of that one!)
Thanks to vandals, about six of the dogs have been completely removed from the streets. The others have been moved into shop windows, lobbies, and the Art Museum itself. This made the hunt a bit difficult (not to mention taking pictures of the ones in store windows). But altogether, we achieved in finding thirty-one of the dogs. And we had a couple hours of one-way streets, circling blocks half-a-dozen times, impatience and fun. We ended it all at Culvers for frozen custard.
All of the dogs are creative and artistic. They’re unique, too, and many of them have very cute names. It’s quite hard to choose which ones to post here on my blog, but I limited myself to five. (And, no, I did not choose the one supporting Obama – too bad a vandal did get a hold of that one!)
“It’s a Dog Eat Dog World”
"Rosie T. Mayor"
(hint: the mayor of Lafayette is named Tony Roswarski)
"Pluto"
(my personal favorite)
“News Hound”
“Noah”
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