We live in a two-story house. I find myself silently counting the stairs every time I ascend (11, turn, 5) or descend (5, turn, 11). It is quite unconsciously until I am conscious then I wonder why on earth I have this habit. We also have a cuckoo clock and I find I am counting the cuckoos whenever it rings.
When I sit in my chair to read, I can see the backside of a neighbor's garage. It has two windows. Those two windows are situated perfectly for eyes and I often imagine that the it is a face and wonder what the garage would like to say.
Many of my fellow homeschool parents and friends will encourage one other that college isn't necessary nor right for every child. It is important to raise up those willing to do the blue-collar jobs, which also are vital to our society. But man oh man is that a hard thing to accept if it is your child. The sinful self likes to say that is all good and well in theory, but "my child" is the exception. Well, maybe not. Maybe "my child" needs to be encouraged to look into plumbing or electrical, construction or welding, retail or factory work.
Not too long ago I finished the book, In the Garden of Beasts by Erik Larson. It is a very good book about America's ambassador, William Dodd, to Germany in the 1930's. Mr. Larson wove the history learned from research of personal letters and documents of the Dodd family into a compelling narrative that was hard to put down. I was a history major in college and during my senior year, my advisor gave me a copy of a set of family letters. My assignment was to read through these, come up with something to weave them together and write a long (I now no longer remember the length) paper. Well, I did terrible. However, Larson's book made me realize all these years later what my history teacher was expecting.
I've been trying very hard to add more vegetables to my diet. This recipe is one I just love. I can not get enough of it and make it quite regularly. For a side dish, a snack, or even for breakfast, this is yummy, yummy, yummy.
Mediterranean Chopped Salad
(from The 6 Week Cure for the Middle-Aged Middle by Drs. Eades)
2 TBSP red wine vinegar
3/4 tsp salt (I think it needs more so I add more)
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/8 tsp dried basil
1/8 tsp dried oregano
1/4 cup olive oil
1 large English cucumber, cut into 1/2 inch cubes (I use a regular cucumber)
1/4 medium red onion, thinly sliced
2 or 3 radishes, thinly sliced
1 large tomato, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
In a large bowl, combine the vinegar, salt, pepper, and herbs. Set aside for a few minutes to allow the flavors to combine. Stream in the olive oil whisking all the while to make the dressing.
Add the chopped vegetables, toss well to coat.
2 comments:
Random comments in response to random realizations:
I count my stairs too. But I don't do it at other people's homes or at stores.
Barns and garages sometimes have faces. Houses usually don't (although there are exceptions). Cars have faces too. But car faces have more emotion to them. Some look angry. Some look sad. Some are cheerful and happy. Some look dumb and confused. Some are cross-eyed. I don't know what I'd do if I were looking for a used car and found a reliable machine that had an angry face. Would I buy it, or would I be too uncomfortable at the thought of driving that AngryFace everywhere I went?
I can't reassure you about a kid going into the trades, because you've already that "That's all well and good ... until it's your kid." But if it makes you feel any better: the trades usually pay better, the debt for training is less than college, and the jobs can't be shipped off to Mexico or China or India.
I make a cuke/tomato salad similar to that. I can never seem to get enough of it!
Ha! I realize with your response that I, too, only count the stairs at my house.
Yes, houses don't usually have faces but some are just more "welcoming" while others seem to only be a building. Cars definitely have faces. You would have to pass on the reliable machine with the angry face. It would slowly overtake your disposition as you drove it and make you into an angry grandma. ;-)
With the "my kid," it would help if there was some sort of definite leaning towards something. But instead there is still a continuous searching and wondering and imagining. This, I find, is the hardest because I'm not sure how to guide due to worry. Worry about the "what if's," and making a wrong decision that will be a harder hurdle to overcome down the road. I'm trying quite hard to figure out how to not make so many obstacles for anything that may come later, which is probably unrealistic.
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