Be My Valentine

Valentine’s Day used to be about lovers. It was a day to celebrate those who are in love. Like they really need a special day. Love hurts, it’s true, but what about those who aren’t in love? Maybe they would like a special day, too.

Now that we have a certain card company to tell us when and how to celebrate special days, we have a different take on valentines. They can be messages of peace, love, and friendship. The day for lovers has become a day to reach out to all those we care about.

Not a bad idea, really. Maybe we should make every day Valentine’s Day. “Make valentines, not war.” It just might catch on…

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What to Do…

When you have nothing to do or too much to do and you are avoiding everything that feels obligatory, it’s hobby time! I come from a family of hobbyists. There are craft persons on both sides, so it is apparently genetic. Or frenetic. Either way, we make things.

I took a couple of printmaking classes a few years ago, and just couldn’t stop making prints. Now I have drawers and portfolios full of them. A few found their way into frames. The rest lie dormant. I promise myself that one day I’ll create a giant collage…hasn’t happened yet.

One year I knit hats and scarves. Everyone received a hat and matching scarf for Christmas, whether they wanted one or not. I was in high school, and had a limited budget. Yarn is a lot more expensive now. I started knitting again a few years ago, and I just can’t seem to stop. The closet is full of hats, and I have begun to disperse them to those in need of a head covering.

These days kids complain a lot about being bored. Especially in math class. They want to be constantly entertained. They want to be in constant communication with each other. There’s a lot of doodling going on.

I try, as a math teacher, to incorporate some doodling into my lessons. But whenever I ask the kids to draw something geometric, there’s always a wise guy with a comment:

“Hey, this isn’t art class!”

You could have fooled me. There are pencil sketches on the desks, in the books, and around the borders of their papers. Even on the pencil sharpener. These kids have something to say, and they are communicating with images.

So why are we cutting funding for art instruction? Wouldn’t it be great to have a school devoted to graffiti? Every surface would be a potential canvas. Imagine how much time and energy we could save on discipline and maintenance. Just a thought.

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Spa Humbug

I had my hair done today. Just the basics: shampoo, cut and blow dry. I have worn my hair in the same basic style for decades. I wouldn’t mind a change. But I have had some traumatic experiences as a result of wishing my hair looked different, so I have given myself permission to be boring.

My first perm was during the summer before my senior year of high school. Never make a drastic change the day before you have your senior photo taken. Enough said.

My second perm was several years later, after the memory of the first perm had faded slightly. I optimistically assumed that it would be different this time. It was, and Little Orphan Annie was my sister’s maid of honor a few days later.

I decided to embrace my somewhat unruly locks, but I have made various attempts to shorten my hair style, with mixed results. Alas, the shoulder-length bob is what works for me. With bangs to the side.

There is so much more available than hair arrangements at the beauty salon these days. It’s hard to find a place that sticks to the basics. With so much washing, waxing, polishing and buffing going on, one might begin to feel more automotive than human.

And now you can not only pierce any part of your anatomy imaginable, but write on it as well. Permanently. And what about the day spa, where you can treat yourself to an overhaul of any type. Whew! It’s exhausting to think about. Not to mention painful.

Thanks, but I’ll just stick to “the usual”.

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Deep in the Middle of Winter

We are thigh-deep in the middle of a very wintry winter. This is the most appropriate time to reflect on how long it has been since the autumn leaves fell, and how much longer we will wait until the spring blossoms appear.

While the rest of the country is shoveling snow, we have had unseasonably warm temperatures out west. The daffodils are blooming in my garden, and the fall lettuce is growing again. Living in California gives you a distorted sense of the seasons.

Here you can find winter in summer, hanging on a foggy day in San Francisco or crunching through an early snow in the Sierra Nevada. Summer in winter is bursting forth on the beaches of San Diego. Whatever your favorite temperature is, you can find it here during any season of the year.

So what does mid-winter mean to a California native? Sun, wind, rain, fog, snow, ice, and having to mow the lawn.

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I Think It’s In the Garage…

We may own the dirtiest car in our neighborhood, a fact that causes me to hang my head in shame, but our garage is the cleanest. It’s true. We actually park a car and a truck in there, and we can even walk around them.

The kids have officially moved out, but you know how that goes. We had garage sales with some of their left-behinds, but we must have missed a few, because they have replicated. The surplus is neatly stacked. Our shelves are full. the rafters are full, and our bicycles hang from a beam. People stare as they walk by. They could be looking at the road gunk on my hatch back, but I think they are stunned to witness a garage used in such an orderly manner.

We could increase our square footage by converting the garage into more living space, as others have done before us. Then our vehicles would perch in the driveway, and we wouldn’t be able to ignore their state of cleanliness as easily. What goes in the garage is usually ignored until you need it.

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Washing the Car

I have heard that the best color of paint for a car is white. It is visible on the road and white paint may actually last longer than other paint pigments. Whether or not you believe this, you probably have a favorite color for a car. My last car was red. Before that I owned a white car. The first car that I owned was blue (my favorite color).

Before you assume a patriotic pattern, please allow me to explain. I purchased these vehicles because they were the best choice available at the time that fit within my budget. Some people purchase a car based on the color, and others purchase a car because of other factors that may be more important in their decision-making process.

I never bought a car new until three years ago. My previous purchases had been limited to those with the least mileage that I could afford. This time I knew exactly what I wanted, and told the dealer to find it for me. I wanted a white Subaru. I was annoyed that someone other than myself drove it first, because it happened to be several hours away, but I bought the car that I wanted instead of the best choice that was available. Happy me!

Now I have a white car, and I commute in it. Due to the fact that my commute is on a long and winding road that leads me to dirt and grime, my car is always dirty. I don’t have much time to spend cleaning my car, because of my long commute. What to do?

I could stop complaining and just make a habit of visiting the nearby car wash once a week on the way home. But I have many excuses. I’m too tired/hungry/cold/busy. I don’t have change or cash with me. I just don’t feel like it. The thing about establishing good habits is that the first step is always the hardest.

I admire clean vehicles when I pass them on the road. I like how my car looks when it is clean. I am embarrassed when I notice how filthy it is (particularly next to a clean car). When I’m feeling particularly disgruntled, I will pull out all the stops: I really shouldn’t waste water. It’s probably going to rain anyway.

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Cloudy Days

This was a weekend of clouds. Some clouds are so flat that you can’t see where one begins and the next ends. This type of cloudy sky is often a dull boring grey color, and is depressing to behold. Blah!

My favorite kind of clouds are fluffy (not the technical term, but I’m being poetic). They billow up in the sky and look like marshmallows. When the sun sinks in the west, they turn orange like sherbet, deep blue, and many shades and tints. Wow.

Yesterday began with ground fog, which melted away into a crowded cloud sky. These clouds were pushing into each other and piling up, not the flat, boring sky I mentioned earlier. They were dense and had ridges, and lower wisps drifted around until it began to rain.

This morning, the rain was gone and those wonderful puffers were scooting around all day, showing off their bright white tops and deep blue bellies. At sunset, they clung to the eastern horizon and glowed like a fire at dusk. I never tire of watching clouds. Like snowflakes, no two are ever alike.

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When the World Stops Making Sense

When the world stops making sense, have some enchiladas. Some prefer tomatillo sauce, and some like red sauce. I like chicken enchiladas, but beef or plain cheese is excellent, too.

Beans and rice is a complete protein, but it’s OK to just have the rice. A margarita will make you smile while you enjoy your meal, but I like Dos Equis dark with a wedge of lime. Sit in a corner booth in the back of the restaurant, and relax. It’s Friday.

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Musical

When I was a kid I spent a couple of summer vacations watching old musicals on TV: Oklahoma!, The Music ManThe King and I, Lili. Pretty cool stuff. Musicals aren’t very popular these days. Too corny.

I don’t know, but I missed an interesting one that came out three years ago. It’s been on TV several times in the last week. Mama Mia is something else!

Based on a Broadway production, with tunes amply supplied by ABBA, this is true entertainment. I don’t know where they got the title, because it’s set in Greece, but it has something for everyone: Hot young women in a chorus line, hot young men in a chorus line, and hot post-middle aged men and women cavorting about the ruins. And laundry, lots of laundry.

Chicago is entertaining, but Mama Mia is a treat. At least if you are approaching post-middle-age…

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I Am Not A Gardener continued…

You had a little success in the garden this season, and it may be going to your head. The late lettuce you planted is still growing, and it’s past the middle of January. Maybe you got lucky. Maybe it’s because you planted local seeds. Who knows…

Pat yourself on the back anyway, and start planning this year’s garden. OK, so it may be a bit early, but we’re having all this nice mild weather. What’s a little frost in the morning? Now it’s close to 70 degrees out, and you feel giddy.

Reign yourself in and pull up some of those skeletons that used to be marigolds. Yuck. Don’t they look discouraging in all this sunshine? Ignore the last of the tomatoes that have become moldy rotting globs in the next planter. Maybe the next storm will take them out.

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