My friend and neighbor is struggling with the changes in her life and that of her children's as they progress through school. Her eldest, a very bright, talented and athletically gifted young man, entered our local public high school this year. Apparently things have not been going well with his academic schedule. He has experienced a number of other glitches in the system. He is now part of an enormous institution – several times the size of the middle school from which he graduated in June.

  Knowing my own daughters strengths and needs, I am already thinking about high school options for her. I have begun reading the websites of well-known private boarding schools dotted across the country, although largely clustered along the East coast. While reading these presentations, I long for the opportunity to "re-do" high school.

  I attended a private all-girls day school for my first two years of secondary education. After near-nervous breakdowns from stress and unhappiness, my parents pulled me out and I had to find another. I browsed glossy catalogs from day schools in the Philadelphia area. Each seemed to trump the next with its campus acreage, volumes in the libraries, average SAT scores, and computers available on campus.

  Through my research, I became enamored with the offerings of a seemingly "hippie" yet exclusively-priced Friends school approximate to the Main Line. A Friends school is one that follows in Quaker traditions. To an outsider, the style and methodology of education at a Friends school might seem permissive. To my weary-of-Catholic-school teen eyes, it seemed perfect. My parents conferenced and decided that with two years before college, the cost was too great for our family budget. I ended up at the local public school. It worked out ok, but I still think I missed out on…something.

  When I began my freshman year at Northwestern, I noted a number of classmates who, according to the Freshman Face Book [a getting-to-know-you type of publication] were graduates from "name brand" private high schools: Choate. Andover. Exeter. St. Andrews. I was secretly jealous.

  My dorm was separated by gender per suite. The suite adjacent to mine (much to my parents horror) housed young men. One of these guys, a consummate preppie, (Deerfield Academy) and I ended up having a strangely intimate yet secretive relationship.

  A contemporary view of a young man and woman being part-time friends usually implies casual sex. That was not what created the bond between Kurt and me. We got high together. He supplied the weed, bong(s), pipes, and beer. I only had to offer the apparently-amusing juxtaposition of girlish naïveté and urbane attitude.

  Often his roommate, Matt, a farmer's son from western Michigan, would join us in our mind-numbing activities. There was a lot of shared laughter, usually at each others' expense. Occasionally, we'd engage in pranks with other dorm mates. But we never ate together in dining hall, shared classes, or attended the same social events. To this day, I am not certain if we shunned each others' company around campus to keep our drug use a secret or if the drug use was the only thing that ever brought us together. After freshman year, Matt transferred to Michigan State to study agriculture and Kurt and I went our separate ways.

  Some weeks prior to graduation, I ran into Kurt at the library. As we began to speak to one another, there were acridly mixed elements of respect and embarrassment in the air. While we caught up and politely inquired about career plans, he began to excitedly explain his interests and ideas for the future.

  His voice was soft, kind, and polite. This was not the same person who made crude jokes and giggled at me when I would begin to nod off after too many bong hits. In retrospect, though, that conversation seemed identical to ones I've had with ex-boyfriends. The ones where you run into one another on the street, flummoxed by the coincidence, yet regain enough composure to be cordial, and even seem to care about the fate of the other person. I did care about Kurt. I cared that, like me, he rebounded from a few semesters of terrible grades to graduate with a respectable GPA. I cared that, unlike other students who took drinking or drug use too far, he and I both experimented yet safely exited that world with little apparent harm done. And I was impressed with the warmth and genuineness he expressed to me that day. I wonder if it was the gentlemanly values instilled in him sometime in Prep school, or if it was just Kurt. I wonder.

 

Oh man, my ass is draggin' today...and no, not due to the effects of gravity upon it!

Last year I was invited to an adults-only Halloween party. The "adult" designation was (I hope) made so that people wouldn't bring kids who might poison themselves on the high booze content of the punchbowl or the novelty jello shots.

I declined the invite, in part, because I am so uneasy with the idea of "adult" costumes. For women, most Halloween options out there are all dreadfully corny:

• sexy/slutty (I haven't got the bod or the nerve to pull off a Naughty Nurse or Lil' Bo Peep)
• hopelessly nerdy: Rennaisance princess with the fat, er...boobs, er...boob-fat cascading up and out the front of the dress, Star Wars/Trek character, etc.
• part of a couple (toga party, pimp/ho, gangster/moll, etc.)

This past year, I was the COSTUME manager of my parish's show; thus I would think that, if invited, it would behoove me to devise an incredibly CLEVER yet attractive getup.

I came up with an idea that would allow me to wear a WIG and a fabulous and flattering outfit. But to pull it off, I would need a male partner: one significantly taller than myself and outrageous enough to play the part.

I was thinking of being Stacy (of Stacy & Clinton) from TLC's What Not To Wear.

Here is my conundrum: If I found a single male friend who would fit the part, would asking him to be Clinton as part of my duo be an implicit "outing"????

Thursday, October 4th is the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, patron saint of animals and the enviroment. No matter what your faith, many churches offer pet blessing ceremonies sometime this week.

If you'd like to give your pet(s) a special blessing, here is a suggested prayer:

What did the grape say when he was juiced?

Nothing. He just let out a little whine.



But seriously folks...

I need to replenish our wine collection (ie - the small cardboard box in our basement) and I am looking for afforadble choices for the following varietals:

• Chianti (I am not remotely oppsed to jug wine in this category)
• Cabernet Sauvignon
• Pinoit Noir
• Syrah/Shiraz

I already have some rieslings and sparklings I love but am open to suggestions for those, as well.

I tried this fresh juice today for breakfast; it made a LARGE glass of juice.

1/2 cantaloupe (scoop out seeds and scoop friut from rind)
1 gala apple - take off stem and cut up to fit into juicer
1 large carrot - washed, cut off stem and tips

The instructions noted to process soft friuts first, then hardest fruits last.

So I juiced them, skimmed the foamy froth from the top, and poured it over a tall glass of chipped ice. It was really delicious, and satisfying in terms of filling me up - I didn't eat anything with it for breakfast. Although likely high in natural sugars, it had a ton of nutritional value, as well.

Tomorrow I am going to try a combo of watermelon and strawberries, maybe with some white grapes thrown it for extra sweetness; I have to look up the correct proportions.

Due to gi tract issues (oh oh, here I go again with the intestinal talk...) I haven't been able to eat berries or any seeded items as they cause problems for me. I don't care much for the texture of berries anyway, but I adore the flavor. The bottom line is: I am really looking forward to a new juice recipe tomrrow.

I bought some bartlett pears but haven't used them yet. I have to go get a bag of organic frozen blueberries; I am thinking a blueberry-pear combo might be quite enjoyable on a fall afternoon.

And before anyone chimes in with, "Why don't you just eat the pears," I'll offer that I currently have a temporary crown on a back molar and I'm trying to avoid all crunchy and/or chewy foods (on the advice of my dentist) for a few weeks.

Post Script: My morning juice turned out AWESOME: here was the recipe I made up:

2 navel oranges, peeled
12 strawberries, stems removed
3 baby carrots

Juice all; add to blender with 1C. crushed ice, 2 packets sweetener (splenda, etc.) blend, pour into glass and enjoy the slushie.

I'm thinking the pre-iced version, with a touch of sweetener, would make great popsicles; however the slushie version would have made a most excellent margarita base!

Wow, the juicer has exceeded my expectations!

I make an afternoon  "cocktail" of green apple, red apple, carrot, celery and beet juice...it was great! It sort of felt like a "snack" and gave me lots of energy to take 4 more short walks - back and forth to take my daughter to and from her chess class at a local park.

Ever since she saw the juicer hogging up countertop space, my daughter has been begging me to get a big bag of oranges so we can make fresh O.J. I will certainly plan to do that before the weekend. How often do kids BEG for healthy stuff?!

I am going to browse through the recipe book again before heading to the farmer's market for as many fresh-picked items as my 'fridge can handle.

Something is in the fall air...

As noted in my previous entry, I have undertaken changes to incorporate more walking  -both for leisure and for errands - into my daily life. Over the summer, I read an article about natural deodorants. It was quite a scintillating -or perhaps scentillating? -topic. I've been doing some research and walked today to The Vitamin Shoppe in my neighborhood to pick up some organic stink-fighters for myself. I've tried the Tom's of Maine and the crystal types in the past with little success, so I'm hoping that these new formulations do the trick.

On a related note, today I am expecting a delivery of a new juicer I got on sale, so that I can integrate more vegetables and fruits into my family's diet.

An hour ago, I cut up some veggies for tonight's dinner and rather than throw the peelings in the trash, I gathered them up and hauled them to the mulch/compost pile in the backyard.

Then I went out to my pond and picked out some of the leaves and thought to myself in a self-congratulatory manner, how well my strategies for keeping the pond healthy (proper levels of bacteria, gasses, PH level, survival of various plant & animal species,etc.) without using chemicals have gone for the past 18 months.

I just got an email from my pastor inviting me and others on parish council to attend a workshop at a local Lutheran congreation on "greening your congregation" and "the stewarship of creation" (i.e. - environmentalism) as its an undertaking he'd like to see my stewardship committee explore.

Coincidence? I don't think so.

Inspired by the fitness and lifestyle changes made by some friends and fellow bloggers, I have augmented my workout routines with daily walks around the neighborhood. The walks usually last from 35-45 minutes.

I always have loved walking. In high school, I walked to and from campus each day as there was no bus for my neighborhood. In college I (unintentionally) shed 20 lbs walking each afternoon after class and before dinner, and when I lived in the city, I walked to the market, shops and restaurants, yoga class,  and local watering holes. Considering I didn't get my license until I was 22, it was not merely a choice but a necessity.

In my suburban neighborhood, there is a shopping center within decent walking distance (about 1 mile away) that houses a Trader Joes, Pet Smart, Barnes & Noble, Panera, Vitamin Shoppe and more. Across the street is a European-style market with wonderful produce and deli departments. Since my around-town '98 Ford Taurus is having "issues" - brakes are going again, turn signal doesn't work, fuel injectors are clogged - and since gas prices are so crazy, I decided to invest in a new set of wheels. It has all the bells and whistles, including a retractible soft-top. No it's not a Chrysler Sebring... Check it out:

I have to link together two thoughts that are just fated to be a couple.

Miss Ginger recently reminded some of us in internetland of the intrigue of high-cut leotards vis-a-vis a video clip of classics from none other than the Solid Gold Dancers.

After watching said clip (posted for your convenience, below) I was reminded of a joke from The Gong Show uttered by the always-outrageous Jaye P. Morgan after witnessing an act in which a woman in a leotard did a handstand while spreading her legs open in a straddle.

When asked to offer her assessment of the "performance," Jaye P. responded, "She looks like she's ready to play stoop tag in the asparagus patch!"

I have no idea why she let me watch the show with her, but after that ribaldry, my mom was howling with laughter. And of course, that vulgar (and positively perfect) remark has been etched in my brain ever since.

Think of asparagus as you watch these professional slinksters do their thang (especially the choregraphy to Blondie's "Rapture"):