tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10775603780828185452024-03-13T23:08:31.542-04:00Adventures from the Faint of HeartTop notch, grade-A worrier attempts to live a littleSusanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-49486213913745427042018-10-13T17:26:00.001-04:002018-10-13T17:28:59.349-04:00Adventure Incoming!Our family is about to do something we've never done, and I think it qualifies as an adventure.<br />
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In preparation for our adventure, we have spent the better part of a week cleaning my house. I did things I hadn't done in far too long—like washing all the floors and wiping down cupboard doors. I've vacuumed up several pets worth of fur and rediscovered the white stove-top. I even cleaned out the little compartments on the washer where you put in the soap and bleach and so forth. (One would think that a container for <i>soap</i> would not get <i>dirty</i>. One would, of course, be wrong.)<br />
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All of this has been in preparation for the arrival of a guest coming to us all the way from France!<br />
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And the kicker is, we don't even know the guy.<br />
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A group of students and their teachers from Barr, France, will be visiting my high school for the next two weeks. While the French students have all been farmed out to homes of our students, one of the teachers will be staying with us. We are officially ready to welcome Simon!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The door to Simon's room, decorated by Abby</td></tr>
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Abby actually deserves a lot of credit for this adventure. When my colleague asked if I'd like to host a teacher, I said we couldn't. Our guest room is not really fit for guests. I mean, my poor dad gets stuck in there, but he wants to see his granddaughter, so he'll put up with the old window, the crappy carpet, and the water-stained ceiling. (We'll get to it all, eventually...) But I couldn't imagine offering the space to Simon.<br />
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When I told Abby about it, she did not hesitate before shouting out, "He can have MY room!"<br />
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And so...the adventure to make the eleven-year-old's room hospitable began. (This may have been the most dangerous part of our journey.)<br />
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And now it's done. The house is tidy, the surfaces dusted. And we wait.<br />
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The French folks are en route from New York City (they spent their first three days in the U.S. there), but their bus broke down, so instead of a 5:30 pm arrival, we're looking at 8 or 8:30...<br />
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In the meantime, I've been pondering what French I remember from high school. Not a lot, it turns out. We've exchanged a few emails with Simon, who has written to us in English, so probably we'll do just fine. Still, I wish I knew more French!<br />
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But I'm trying not to dwell on the potential troubles (I know! So unlike me!). Fingers crossed for a fabulous couple of weeks...I'll let you know how it goes!Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-81737087857766284372018-09-30T13:34:00.001-04:002018-09-30T13:34:47.601-04:00Point and ClickThe premise of this blog is that I have some sort of weird aversion to adventure, and I wanted a place to explore that a little, and also do some writing and share some stories. Not all of my posts are about attempted adventures, of course, but that's the general expectation.<br />
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It seems like, though, I might also take a moment now and again to acknowledge some things I do that are in fact pretty adventurous, at least by other people's standards. For one, I am a high school teacher. Lots of folks would rather take a fork to the eye than hang out with teenagers and expect them to do school work. But I love teaching. And an extension of my teaching is another thing I love to do that even lots of teachers fear:<br />
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Presenting.<br />
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Give me an hour in front of a crowd and I'll whip up a string of activities and a slideshow lickety-split.<br />
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I did not know this about myself until 2004, when I became a Teacher Consultant with the <a href="https://umaine.edu/mainewritingproject/"><span style="color: blue;">Maine Writing Project</span></a>. I sort of accidentally fell into it, and it changed.my.life. Ok, maybe not my life, but certainly my career. I attended the Summer Institute for teachers and one of our projects was presenting a workshop to the class. I had never done such a thing, but I threw myself into the planning, and ultimately produced my first workshop:<br />
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This is the cover sheet from my workshop presentation at my first conference, where people actually paid to take my workshop (and other people's, of course. I have yet to be the headliner, but a girl can dream*). The title is goofy, with my attempt at referencing <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_X-Files"><span style="color: blue;">The X-Files</span></a>, which had already stopped airing in 2002. But it launched me. I loved it.</div>
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Since then I've presented at many Writing Project conferences as well as offered professional development at my school. Some of my favorites include:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At this conference, I discovered the Holy Grail of presenting, a presentation remote, which happened to exist in the room where I was presenting.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing games at a conference was definitely a hit!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was my most recent presentation, on academic honesty, to my entire high school faculty.</td></tr>
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After fourteen years, I finally got this baby:</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">This is my </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Logitech-Spotlight-Presentation-Remote-Bluetooth/dp/B01N9X3DBQ/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1538327873&sr=8-3&keywords=presenter+logitech"><span style="color: blue;">Logitech Spotlight Presentation Remote with Bluetooth</span></a><span style="color: #111111;">, and it has really upped my presentation game. </span></span></div>
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So I may be afraid of <a href="https://faintheartedadventurer.blogspot.com/2016/06/adventure-problems.html"><span style="color: blue;">bugs</span></a>, <a href="https://faintheartedadventurer.blogspot.com/2016/06/earlier-this-month-when-i-wrote-about.html"><span style="color: blue;">roller skating</span></a>, <a href="https://faintheartedadventurer.blogspot.com/2016/06/terror-on-two-wheels.html"><span style="color: blue;">riding a bike</span></a>, and <a href="https://faintheartedadventurer.blogspot.com/2016/06/fifteen-things-i-fear.html"><span style="color: blue;">a host of other things</span></a>, but give me a room full of teachers, a projector, and a presentation remote? And I am Queen of the World.</div>
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*I'm not really a bucket list sort of person. I don't want to skydive or hike the AT or scale <a href="https://www.nps.gov/mora/index.htm"><span style="color: blue;">Mount Rainier</span></a>, but if anything is rolling around at the bottom of my figurative bucket, it's giving a <a href="https://www.ted.com/"><span style="color: blue;">Ted Talk</span></a>. Maybe someday...<br />
<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-73909611133966762002018-09-23T20:27:00.002-04:002018-09-23T20:27:36.837-04:00Backyard AdventuresHey, this adventure-averse lady just realized something: I have adventure happening right in my own back yard.<br />
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Meet the girls:<br />
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These are our Buff Orpingtons.<br />
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Well, no. These <i>were</i> our Buff Orpingtons.<br />
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Goodness. There's history here.<br />
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Way back in 2012 we decided to begin our chicken adventure. <a href="https://inmanchicks.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: blue;">It's chronicled here</span></a> in a blog I started in all my chicken-raising excitement. Loved that blog. Life got in the way, though. Still, I look back at our first girls, barred rocks and sex links (I kid you not), fondly.<br />
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Unfortunately, a fox looked at them fondly, too. And <a href="https://www.backyardchickens.com/threads/fox-in-the-hen-house-how-do-foxes-slip-in-anyway.902148/"><span style="color: blue;">foxes are sneaky as F&@%</span></a>.<br />
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Our first girls lived mostly in a chicken tractor (<a href="https://inmanchicks.blogspot.com/2012/05/moving-day.html"><span style="color: blue;">described and photographed in loving detail on the ol' blog</span></a>) but when we moved to our current house, they upgraded to a coop that was already in existence on the property. It's well built, and we thought it was pretty well critter-proof, but a fox finally figured out how to work the latch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They're super cute, til they run off with your chickens.</td></tr>
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After a few months of general sadness and purchasing eggs from the grocery store (nowhere near as good as the eggs from our girls) we decided to raise chicks again. We dusted off the ol' brooder and got to work.<br />
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There are few things as cute as baby chickens (peep-peeps!), but woo are they messy. We were pleased when we could remove them from our dust-covered basement and deposit them in the coop (with a newly reinforced and hopefully fox-proof latch. It has proven so.).<br />
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And so the girls grew, began laying, and generally seemed happy in their new home. And we were happy with the return of fresh eggs.<br />
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Until this @$$#()!& showed up.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caught two of these and relocated them. Cute but MEAN little critters.</td></tr>
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It took us four nights—and four chickens—to figure out that the little creep was getting in through a teeny-tiny gap in the chicken wire, way up at the top of the coop.<br />
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So new fencing went up and all fencing was secured and re-secured.<br />
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Aaaaand....five more chickens were procured.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These girls, also Buff Orpingtons, were big enough to move right into the coop, albeit in their own pen.</td></tr>
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So now we have eight chickens, a refortified coop, and a fridge full of fresh eggs. </div>
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And I have a new favorite social media hangout: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/301939479926992/"><span style="color: blue;">The Maine Poultry Connection</span></a> on Facebook. Jon learned about this group from a guy at work, and that's where we got our newest Buffs. He logged in, saw a post about Buffs for sale, and bing-bang-boom, that was that. I don't think he's been back since. But I? I have found my people. Good advice, good humor, good times!</div>
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Raising chickens is not super difficult, but it certainly has its challenges. And I think that qualifies as an adventure.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The original girls</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TUUNo27CaOM/W6guCnacvDI/AAAAAAAArdA/_yoHOAT_tPgnG07o5QJC4WLCJld_Uv5TQCKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_20170928_222444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TUUNo27CaOM/W6guCnacvDI/AAAAAAAArdA/_yoHOAT_tPgnG07o5QJC4WLCJld_Uv5TQCKgBGAs/s400/IMG_20170928_222444.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eggs!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With a young Buff O.</td></tr>
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-71929048577586220982018-09-19T16:09:00.001-04:002018-09-19T16:10:54.373-04:00Adventures in Teaching: Home Sick Edition"Gosh, I'm not feeling all that great today. I think I'll call in sick from work," said no teacher ever.<br />
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I'm on day 3 of missing work for my current illness, a viral infection somewhere along the line between cold and flu. I think I'm finally on the mend because I am sitting up-right and typing without disastrous results and my fever seems to have abated.<br />
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But that means facing the horror of what may or may not have happened over the past three days at school. Talk about an adventure.<br />
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Teachers will tell you, repeatedly and without your urging, that it's easier to go to work sick than to miss a day. Sub plans, especially those drawn up at the eleventh hour and usually with a pounding headache or between bouts of nausea and vomiting, are challenging to craft. On any given day, a teacher has not only classes to teach, but meetings to attend with colleagues, administrators, and/or students, materials to prepare, emails to carefully craft or respond to, papers to grade, and plans to develop for future classes. Miss a day, miss a lot, as they say.<br />
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It's easier to stay home if you are literally unconscious rather than mildly incapacitated.<br />
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Today I am beginning to face the music: an email from a parent that came in on Monday, details from guidance about four different students, department requests for materials (I'm a department head), messages from three students who tried to find me at some point during my absence, and looming deadlines for college recommendations, professional development planning, and a stipend position application I have yet to fill out. Not to mention all the planning, teaching, and grading I didn't get to in these three days. I am very grateful to have colleagues who teach the same course as me and who are willing to step in to make copies, share lesson plans, and even teach my kids when their schedules allow. They are as busy as I am, but they, too, know what it feels like when suddenly you can't make it in.<br />
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Like I said, being knocked out cold is easier.<br />
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But therein lies an important truth: if I hadn't been able to send a few quick messages about plans and coverage, about rescheduling meetings, about notes to share in the meetings that went on with out me anyway, the world would have kept on turning just the same. I'd be facing most of the same music today.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kevin kept me company while I was stuck in bed for three days.</td></tr>
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When I was lying in bed, binge-watching <span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://www.nbc.com/ap-bio">AP Bio</a> </span>on Hulu*, I was lucid enough to be fretting all the things I was missing, but I really wasn't capable of functioning in the world of other human beings. I couldn't even read. But in my calmer moments, I was able to remember what one of my former department heads said when I told her I had to miss work: "Take care of yourself. The students will be fine." And she was right. My missing a day or two or three of school is not likely to impact the lives of the students in any measurable way. It will be annoying to fall behind, but I'll get us caught up. It will be annoying to reschedule meetings, but they will still happen eventually. I may have a miserable weekend spent on work that didn't get done, but come next June, summer will arrive and I won't have anything left to grade or plan for. And that's the truth regardless of missing a day or not.<br />
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Teachers feel bad about missing school because a) we don't like letting our kids down; and b) we don't like putting extra work on our colleagues. Teachers, on the whole, are pretty noble lot.<br />
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Well, imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon this little nugget of an articl<span style="font-family: inherit;">e from <i>The Washington Post</i>: <span style="color: blue; word-spacing: -1.12px;"><a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/education/1-in-4-us-teachers-are-chronically-absent-missing-more-than-10-days-of-school/2016/10/26/2869925e-9186-11e6-a6a3-d50061aa9fae_story.html?utm_term=.2a38e3387d0e">1 in 4 U.S. teachers are chronically absent, missing more than 10 days of school</a>.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #2a2a2a; word-spacing: -1.12px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #2a2a2a; word-spacing: -1.12px;">Say what, now? Here I and my colleagues regularly bemoan being absent, but this article discusses teachers who feel so unsupported and anxious about working, that they miss school enough to be categorized as "chronically absent." And that <i>does </i>have consequences on student achievement. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #2a2a2a; word-spacing: -1.12px;">I'm pretty lucky that I want to go to work each day (well, most days—I'm not a saint). My colleagues are rock stars and my administration is supportive. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #2a2a2a; word-spacing: -1.12px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="word-spacing: -1.12px;">I must not be 100% yet, though, because I wrote this blog entry instead of grading the papers that came in last week...guess I'd better get to it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="word-spacing: -1.12px;">*Thought for future post--the representations of schools and teachers in mass media. I should probably hate <i>AP Bio</i> (the show, not the actual subject), but it entertained me greatly. I'll have to determine if that was fever-induced or for real!</span></span>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-29678304790267139272018-09-15T20:46:00.002-04:002018-09-15T20:46:37.148-04:00Am I a Boat Person?Y'all, we got a boat.<br />
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Friends on Facebook are probably sick of me posting photos like these (ha ha! I'm posting more photos of my family boating! #madeyoulook #cantstopwontstop #didiusethesehashtagscorrectly)<br />
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Having a boat seems like a very adventure-y thing to do and to post about on this here adventure-logging blog. So here we go.<br />
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When I met Jon, he had a sailboat. On our first date, he told me all about it and about some of his sailboating adventures. I enjoyed the stories, but the interior monologue I had going included things like:<br />
*Wow! A sailboat!<br />
*If this goes anywhere, I'll get to go on a sailboat!<br />
*Oh shit. If this goes anywhere, I'll have to go on a sailboat.<br />
*Uh...I'm prone to seasickness.<br />
*What if I hate the sailboat?<br />
*What if we are perfect for each other in every way except the boat comes between us?<br />
(Remember, this was all on the first date.)<br />
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Well, there were many more dates, including a moonlit ride in the dingy around the harbor where the sailboat would eventually be moored (it had not yet been put in for the season), which provided evidence that the boat was <i>very</i> exciting and important to Jon and increased my anxiety about the boat coming between us.<br />
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Eventually the sailboat made its way into the ocean and I made my way onto the sailboat.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JlaBIl5BFH0/W52kJXlvj7I/AAAAAAAArRY/fNatBGfzYSEs-p3dQoUR1yR5d5qN4UvoQCLcBGAs/s1600/sailboat2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="720" height="191" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JlaBIl5BFH0/W52kJXlvj7I/AAAAAAAArRY/fNatBGfzYSEs-p3dQoUR1yR5d5qN4UvoQCLcBGAs/s320/sailboat2.jpg" width="320" /></a>Much to my surprise, I kind of liked it. I took <a href="https://bonine.com/">Bonine</a> every time and never felt sick. Of course, we always went out on bright, sunny days. And it wasn't 100% fun and games. The thing about sailing is the need for wind. When there was no wind, we motored around at a very slow speed. When there was a lot of wind, we heeled right over and I freaked out. True sailboat people love this feeling. I did not pass the true-sailboat-person test.<br />
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Also, going sailing is a big <i>process</i>. We could get the packing of gear down pretty well--Jon had worked out a lot of those kinks in the years before he knew me--but we had to drive to the marina, schlep our stuff to the dock, drain rain water out of the dingy, pile in, putt-putt out to the boat, load the boat with our things, prep the boat (battery, hatch doors, sail prep, etc. etc. etc.), tie off the dingy, drop the mooring, and then s l o o o o o w l y motor out of the harbor into the relatively open water of Casco Bay. Then maybe we could sail. The sailboat is not a speedy way to get anywhere. Running on the motor, it took a good two hours to get from Freeport to Portland, under sail, longer, what with the need to zig zag to get just about anywhere.<br />
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And now, a math problem:<br />
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The process of getting ready + my fears of there being too little or too much wind + finding the oomph to complete the process and quell my fears + a kiddo with a schedule of her own adventures to manage = very few boat days.<br />
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We finally faced the inevitable, that we were not using the sailboat enough to warrant the amount of money it costs to maintain one (maintenance, mooring fee, putting it in fee, taking it out fee, hauling it fee, and so forth).<br />
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If I made a very short list of the worst days in Jon's entire life, the day he sold the sailboat would probably be nearish the top. The man loves to boat.<br />
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So of course I promised that I'd support us getting another boat eventually.<br />
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Enter camper, trip to Disney, new house, and many, many house projects.<br />
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Exit boat dreams.<br />
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Except not really. I always knew we'd get a boat again someday. Jon was less convinced. He's a gemini, so his fatalism wasn't surprising.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Don's boat in Boothbay</td></tr>
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Imagine his luck when a friend of ours took us for a spin on his center-console motor boat on a visit to Boothbay last summer. Suddenly, <i>I </i>wanted a boat. Badly. It was so cool on the water and so hot on the land. For the rest of the summer, I kept saying things like, "Gosh, it's hot. This would be a good boat day" and Jon kept hearing me say "we should buy a boat."<br />
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And here we are with our own 23 ft center console with a t-top.<br />
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This produced a whole new crop of fears for me. Now we had a boat to trailer, which would mean "putting it in" and "taking it out" each time we wanted to use it. My visions of this process included pick-up trucks getting sucked under the water, or me driving the boat into the dock (or jagged rocks because SCARY!). I fretted about it for weeks during the looking-and-buying stage.<br />
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But what's a fun adventure without me fretting about something?<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xv683L_j1n8/W52l03K8iEI/AAAAAAAArSE/Q55mV1up3qIhg6OZxkKeODTZoKU0wcCyACKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_20180610_101011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xv683L_j1n8/W52l03K8iEI/AAAAAAAArSE/Q55mV1up3qIhg6OZxkKeODTZoKU0wcCyACKgBGAs/s320/IMG_20180610_101011.jpg" width="320" /></a>Turns out (thank goodness) it's not that bad of a process. And I am proud that it only takes us on average five minutes to put in, and maybe five and a half or six to haul it out.<br />
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Does all of this make me a boat person? (Nah. Let's not get carried away, on the tides or otherwise.)<br />
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-70435685767739201412018-04-01T19:53:00.000-04:002018-04-01T19:53:20.561-04:00Making Easter Bread<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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I made Paska, Slovak Easter bread, yesterday. It’s a slightly sweet bread, formed in a ring, with a cheese dough wrapped in a white dough. I first had it as a kid when my grandmother made it. We often spent Easters with Granny. I got the idea to make it this year from my dad and Joyce, who were likely talking about their Easter traditions. I bet Dad, like me, thinks first and foremost of all the delicious food associated with holidays, and when he described Paska, the plan to bake their own was born. This resulted in a flurry of emails and texts to folks who might have the recipe, me included. I’m certain there’s a copy of it somewhere in my father’s house, but I like that he reached out to his sister, his daughter, and his son for the recipe.</div>
<br />My aunt and cousin came through first, having just made some the day before, and Dad forwarded me their recipe. Learning that everyone else was making it made me want to make it too.<br /><br />It’s a confusing recipe, due to its age and the dramatic if vague flair with which my relations have recorded recipes over the years.</div>
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First, the recipe calls for dry cottage cheese. A little Googling reveals lots of information about “dry curd cottage cheese,” including that your local grocery store is unlikely to have it. I’ve made this bread before, but it has been years, so all I had was a fuzzy memory of regular cottage cheese, cheesecloth, and a metal sieve. I fiddled around with those items for a while and aside from making a mess, I also managed to come up with a pile of dry cheese curds—for the win.</div>
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<br />This ingredients list also involves boiled milk, melted butter, and, per my aunt’s version of the recipe, some pretty stern commentary on the subject of yeast. There are two types of dough involved (basic and cheese), and one calls for “1 small package fresh yeast or 1/2 household” and the other for “1 cake of yeast (not household).” I’m not an expert bread maker, but I can assure you that these days at the grocery store you will only find yeast called “active dry” or “fast-rising instant,” or even “rapid-rise.” No “household” yeast or “cake yeast,” which is not yeast for cakes, but yeast formed into cakes, or blocks, because it isn’t so dry as the yeast in those funny little packages of three we can so easily procure. Yeah, you can order yeast cakes on the internet, but when you decide today that you want Paska tomorrow, you have to punt. My aunt said to use “active dry” for both and it’s fine. I didn’t have enough on hand so improvised with “instant” for both. Stern warnings, be damned.<br /><br />The “directions” part of the recipe felt a little like the pared down tasks Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood give to the contestants on The Great British Baking Show for the technical challenges: bits left out, vague commentary, and ominous warnings: “4 Cups flour (DO NOT add all four, make sticky).” I’ve made enough bread to know what this is getting at, but the pushiness of it reminded me of my grandmother. I imagined Granny up on her toes (she was 4 foot and a little in height), hand on hip, peering around my shoulder as I added flour, her voice rising as she said, “no no no! Not all of it! Not all of it!” And then laughing, laughing, laughing.<br /><br />These curiosities in the directions on my aunt’s recipe led me to pull out my own copy (from my mother), which was more or less the same but not quite. Both copies were word-processed, and my mother’s was in ALL CAPS. My aunt’s bears the title “Easter Paska,” but Mom’s reads “EASTER BREAD.” I liked thinking of my mother typing this into her recipe files, making edits to suit her approach to preparing food. My mother definitely cooked in ALL CAPS. <br /><br />One conspicuous difference is that my mother listed the cheese dough first, while my aunt’s listed the basic dough first. With no indication of which would be better to start with, I opted for my aunt’s, largely because my cheese curds were still draining. My mom had the same puzzling yeast details and the same injunction about the flour, though worded slightly differently: “DON’T USE ALL FLOUR MAKE DOUGH STICKIE.” And to complicate matters further, my copy of my mother’s version had edits written in pen by me, and they were pretty substantive changes—like 1/4 cup of milk and 1/4 cup of water instead of 1/2 cup of milk. Why? Who knows?!<br /><br />So preparing the two doughs took some mental gymnastics about quantities and the order-of-operations, especially in an effort to avoid using every bowl in my house. My questions about both versions of the recipe caused me to wonder what my brother’s version looked like, so I had Dad send it along. Frank had recorded the recipe in his meticulous handwriting on an index card (basic dough first). Interestingly, both doughs on his version of the recipe called for “1 cake yeast,” further complicating (or maybe simplifying?) the confounding yeast situation. His directions were more or less the same (his amounts matched both typed-up versions, not my handwritten changes), and I foged head-long through them all (was I cooking in ALL CAPS too?). When left to proof, my basic dough rose like mad, while the cheese dough took its sweet time, making me think my mother was onto something making the cheese dough first.<br /><br />And then it came time to assemble the bread. I knew it had to be baked in a tube pan, but my aunt’s directions and my mother’s directions for getting the two doughs commingled and into the pan were vastly different. My aunt’s had me pulling the basic dough into a rectangle upon which I would place the cheese dough, but my mother’s said, “ROLL BREAD DOUGH LIKE YOU WOULD FOR A PIE (1/4 OF AN INCH THICK). PLACE CHEESE DOUGH ON BREAD DOUGH LEAVING OUTER EDGE AND MIDDLE CLEAR. MAKE A HOLE WITH YOUR HAND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BREAD DOUGH. PULL BREAD DOUGH FROM CENTER AND OUTER EDGE UP OER CHEESE DOUGH.” This seemed way more fun than the rectangle method, so I opted for it. My brother’s directions were closer to my mother’s, with a little more clarity about the size of the circle of dough (“a 10” circle”) and the instruction to “punch a small hole in the center.” His also explained making the cheese dough into a ring, which confirmed my interpretation of “PLACE CHEESE DOUGH ON BREAD DOUGH LEAVING OUTER EDGE AND MIDDLE CLEAR.” <br /><br />After one more rise it was time to bake. All instructions said 45 minutes, but they also all said that this recipe would yield 2 loaves. Well, no. My brother’s said “makes 2 loaves” at the end of his notecard. The other two just said to use half the dough for assembling the ring, leaving me to infer that I would repeat the steps with the other half of the dough. Regardless, I only have one tube pan, and I have zero memories of making two loaves. I checked in with my dad and Joyce for the umpteenth time during this process, and they relayed my brother’s take that you could make two short loaves or one taller loaf. Bingo. One loaf for me. But this would increase the baking time, and unlike all the recipes on the King Arthur Flour website, there was no indication of what “done” would look like. I’ve never been good at the knock-on-it-to-to-see-if-it-sounds-hollow method, so I went with the 200-degrees-for-bread-made-with-milk-or-butter rule (thanks, K.A.) and called it good. <br /><br />And good it was. We sliced into it on this Easter morning. Though I haven’t eaten Paska in years, I knew my loaf—a little dense, with the pale yellow cheese dough framed by the white basic dough, the firm crust, the slightly sweet taste—fit comfortably within family tradition.<br /><br /><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Jrmrs38js4/WsFsnatoNuI/AAAAAAAAldc/q-DUdYban_AaTjiNJL9PXpYWzcgVCp3iQCKgBGAs/s1600/IMG_20180401_073732.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Jrmrs38js4/WsFsnatoNuI/AAAAAAAAldc/q-DUdYban_AaTjiNJL9PXpYWzcgVCp3iQCKgBGAs/s640/IMG_20180401_073732.jpg" /></a><br /><br />As I thought more about the three versions of this recipe I consulted, I realized that when they were recorded—by my aunt, my mother, my brother—each of them was most likely talking with my grandmother. I was probably talking to her, too, when I made the changes in pen on my copy. That would explain all the fiddly differences. I imagined my mother on the phone with Granny, typing in the sentences as Granny rattled off the directions from her recipe, no doubt adding lots of do’s and don’ts (“Don’t add all the flour! Make the dough sticky!”). My aunt’s copy was perhaps typed up from her own hand-written version (no email back in those days for file sharing), likely penned at my grandmother’s kitchen table. And I’m almost certain my brother sat with Granny and wrote his version down. I can hear him asking her for a little more precision: “How big a circle should I roll the basic dough?” And she probably said, “oh, about yea-big,” making a ring with her hands. That looks about 10 inches, he decided. Or maybe he wasn’t at her table. Maybe they were on the phone, too, and Granny said, “about the size of a dinner plate.” Hers were Corelle, the “butterfly gold” pattern. I have some Corelle plates too, and I just measured one: exactly 10 inches. <br /><br />Through the process of making my Easter Paska, I heard in one way or another from my dad and Joyce, my aunt, my brother, and even my mother and my grandmother. None of us lives in the same place—my Dad’s in Indiana, my aunt’s in Pennsylvania, my brother’s in Chicago, and Granny and Mom are in the great beyond. But I distinctly heard all their voices as I worked. And sampling the sweet bread, spread with butter and accompanied by a cup of tea, makes me think of us all together, a pleasant sensation on this Easter morning. Thanks for the help, everyone. I think it’s time for me to write down my own version of this recipe, so I can add my voice, too.</div>
Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-30117567029341207572017-08-17T11:36:00.000-04:002017-08-17T11:36:32.553-04:00What's Antifa? And Other Musings.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">As I've been sifting through and processing the events from Charlottesville this past weekend, I've found myself wondering about the violent counter-protesters, the ones who gave Trump the opening to spew his "both sides are bad" bull$#!%. Scanning through right-wing viewpoints (difficult, but important for me), I kept reading about Antifa, the "violent militant far left group" who "threw punches" and caused problems. </span><br />
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I had never heard of Antifa (which doesn't mean much. I haven't heard of a lot of things), <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antifa_(United_States)" style="color: #1155cc;">so I had to look it up</a>. (The link is to Wikipedia, but after reading several varied sources, I felt like the wikipedia page did a pretty good job of summing it up.) Perhaps one of the most helpful tidbits was learning that Antifa is short for Anti-facists. That seems important. Shouldn't that be a good way to describe all of us?</div>
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I admire another aspect of the mission of Antifa--constantly confronting neo-nazis and white supremacists everywhere, with one underlying belief being that a small group of neo-nazis has the power to grow into a large one (see: history), and so every appearance or action ought to be met head on.</div>
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I believe in the power of protest, too, and not just the stand-behind-the-barricade-and-hold-your-signs kind. Sometimes protest has to inconvenience people. The sit-ins of the 60s were a huge inconvenience for lunch-counter owners and their patrons. Blocking a street may be super aggravating to the person who wants to get through so he can get to the movies on time, but it's nothing compared to the inconvenience faced by those who are systemically mistreated and oppressed. Of course, lots of folks are far too selfish and unaware of their own privilege to realize that, but that doesn't make it any less true.</div>
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Still, I'm not ready to throw over the whole governmental system just yet. Anarchy stresses me out. I prefer to believe in justice and liberty for all as values we should continue to work towards.</div>
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MLK preached non-violence, but when you think about the reason, it's chilling. He believed that a peaceful protester being humiliated, harassed, and even beaten, was going to make the racist look like the bad guy. When that action was directed at children, the racist looked even worse. Let the racists condemn themselves with their own actions! Great! But don't forget...in the process, those peaceful protesters--including children--were humiliated, harassed, beaten, and sometimes killed. </div>
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Being a peaceful protester is dangerous work. Ask Heather Heyer. Oh wait. We can't.</div>
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Some have argued that <a href="https://www.democracynow.org/2017/8/14/cornel_west_rev_toni_blackmon_clergy" style="color: #1155cc;">Antifa saved the lives of counter-protesters</a>.</div>
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So maybe Antifa has a point. Maybe sometimes you have to throw a punch. Or a rock. Or light a fire. Or maybe not. But it's a lot easier to condemn the use of violence from a comfortable couch in a comfortable livingroom in a position of safety and privilege.</div>
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Even before doing any research, of course, it was clear that Trump's "both sides are bad" rhetoric is bullbull$#!%. It diminishes the importance and danger of the entire situation, and it gives credibility to the white supremacists. We can't do that. That's not an option.</div>
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As a teacher, I'm discouraged from bringing my political beliefs into the classroom. In a course that uses world events as a textbook, that can be challenging, but I work very hard to present multiple viewpoints from conservative to liberal. I understand that I should not be telling my students what to think. My job is to help them learn <i>how </i>to think. So I don't tell my students whom I vote for. I don't generally share my position on most local or national issues, like bear-baiting or the legalization of marijuana.</div>
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But as I look at the current state of things in the United States, I can't look at white supremacists and neo-nazis and say, "well, they're entitled to their own opinions." I mean, yes I can. Free country, and all that. But though they are entitled to their own opinion, I can't keep quiet about mine in this case--my opinion that there is no superior race, that whites are not targets of discrimination just like blacks, Jews, Muslims, women, transgendered folks, etc. That systemic racism doesn't exist. </div>
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Sometimes I just have to call bull$#!%. </div>
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Supporting equal rights for all is not taking a side. Speaking out against those who hate is not taking a side. Reflecting on my own implicit biases and the rewards of privilege I didn't even realize I had and asking students to do the same is not wrong. It's doing what is right.</div>
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This essay, <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2017/08/what-trump-gets-wrong-about-antifa/537048/" style="color: #1155cc;">What Trump Gets Wrong About Antifa</a>, helped me clear my head about the issue of violence from both sides. And it also sums up my initial thoughts about Antifa. </div>
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So now that I, like roughly a zillion other people, have written my thoughts about the state of things, where does that leave me? What are my next steps?</div>
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Well, this will surely impact my teaching this fall.</div>
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And here are just a few resources for taking more action (thank you to my Facebook friends for sharing these and other resources).</div>
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<a href="http://www.readbrightly.com/books-to-help-kids-understand-the-fight-for-racial-equality/" style="color: #1155cc;">Knowing Our History to Build a Brighter Future: Books to Help Kids Understand the Fight for Racial Equality</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.splcenter.org/20170814/ten-ways-fight-hate-community-response-guide" style="color: #1155cc;">Ten Ways to Fight Hate: A Community Response Guide</a> (from the Southern Poverty Law Center)</div>
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<a href="http://citizenshipandsocialjustice.com/2015/07/10/curriculum-for-white-americans-to-educate-themselves-on-race-and-racism/" style="color: #1155cc; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Curriculum for White Americans to Educate Themselves on Race and Racism–from Ferguson to Charleston</a><br />
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<a href="https://medium.com/@solidaritycville/charlottesville-organizers-ask-you-to-take-these-8-actions-b50ec8c3cfbb" style="color: #1155cc; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Charlottesville organizers ask you to take these 8 actions</a>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-91360824176835388162017-07-23T21:45:00.000-04:002017-07-24T09:45:43.134-04:00On the Subject of Hyperbole in Public Discourse...or...I'm So Angry I Could Punch You in the NoseRecently, Representative Hamann, a legislator from Maine, <a href="http://www.pressherald.com/2017/07/12/in-facebook-rant-south-portland-lawmaker-calls-president-trump-a-complete-loser-and-makes-a-threatening-statement/">said some pretty egregious things about the president</a>. In response, lots o' folks (Republicans) have called for Rep. Hamann's resignation. Here are a couple of snippets from the article:<br />
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Maine Republicans were furious over the post by Rep. Scott M. Hamann and called on House Speaker Sara Gideon, D-Freeport, to take action against him. Some, including Maine Republican Party Executive Director Jason Savage, said Hamann should resign.<br />
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Demi Kouzounas, chairwoman of the Maine Republican Party, issued a statement calling Hamann “unhinged and dangerous.”</blockquote>
Sigh.<br />
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I'm so tired of hyperbole.<br />
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The trouble started with hyperbole. The lawmaker said in his ill-mannered Facebook post,<br />
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“Trump is a half term president, at most, especially if I ever get within 10 feet of that [vulgar term].” </blockquote>
This, of course, is not true. Rep. Scott Hamman is not going to kill the president if he finds himself within ten feet of him. He's just not.<br />
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It is also hyperbole when Chairwoman Kouzounas calls the legislator "unhinged and dangerous."<br />
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Please. That is ridiculous.<br />
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Everyone is being ridiculous. (Uh oh. Now <i>I'm</i> using hyperbole. Apparently it's catchy, like a disease.)<br />
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During<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> the recent Maine budget crisis, when we descended into an actual government shut-down, both sides of the aisle used the exact same hyperbolic language to point out the flaws of the other side. Representative Stacy Guerin, a Republican, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/representativestacey.guerin/posts/1130495493761274">posted on Facebook</a>: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">"<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.24px;">The Democrats are <b>holding the state hostage</b> over an increase in the lodging tax that they do not even need to balance the budget." </span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.24px;">Meanwhile, </span><span style="background-color: white;">Senate Minority Leader Troy Jackson, a Democrat,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.24px;"> <a href="http://bangordailynews.com/2017/07/01/politics/protesters-take-over-maine-state-house-on-day-1-of-shutdown/">blamed the Republicans</a>, calling them, </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">“<b>hostage-takers</b> that have shut the state down because they don’t know what it’s like to be a working-class person who needs these paychecks.” </span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I certainly understand the metaphor here, but the word "hostage" is so...loaded. <i>It's a crime</i> to take someone hostage. So each side is calling the other side criminal. This is not what we mean when we say we must find common ground.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Should anyone read this post, he or she might be tempted to explain why his or her side was <i>right</i> in this case—why the opposition really were being bullies or hypocrites, that it rather was like a hostage situation. But that is not my point. I'm trying to get my head around the concept of public discourse, and how the hyperbolic language being used creates even vaster (more vast?) divides between those with opposing viewpoints.</span></span><br />
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Hyperbole is also a pretty standard form of click-bate when we are scrolling through our favorite social media outlets. Consider these headlines:<br />
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<li><a href="http://mashable.com/2017/03/15/mark-hamill-shuts-down-donald-trump-supporter/#vOINqsI_vOqA" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Mark Hamill shuts down Donald Trump staffer in 1 blunt tweet</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.elleuk.com/life-and-culture/culture/news/a35971/woman-ariana-grande-islamophobia-twitter/">Woman From Ariana Grande Concert Perfectly Shuts Down Islamophobia In One Tweet</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/russell-crowe-shuts-down-body-shamers-in-one-strong-tweet_us_58db7ea9e4b0cb23e65cb2ee">Russell Crowe Shuts Down Body Shamers in One Strong Tweet</a></li>
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If only all of these hyperbolic statements were true! We'd be done with that pesky Trump staffer, done with Islamophobia, <i>and </i>done with body shamers. Wouldn't that be swell? But of course Mark Hamill, the woman at the Ariana Grande concert, and Russell Crowe can really only do so much, especially with a measly 140 characters. </div>
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Unfortunately, our country's Chief Hyperbolite (I don't think that's a word, but it should be) is also our Commander in Chief. And while it's pretty clear to see that Mark Hamill, Russell Crowe, J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, Anne Coulter, Sean Hannity, and even that gal at the Arianna Grande concert have done zero actual shutting down with their tweets, it seems that Trump's are somehow more effective.<br />
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It's true that to some degree, reporters pick and choose what to report. Many a person has felt misrepresented by the media. Quotes are provided out of context, certain language creates a spin, details are arranged in just such a way...so it's not surprising that the president might feel...disappointed...with his portrayal in the news.<br />
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Still, the president labeling every news story or agency that presents him unfavorably as "fake" is taking a toll on our country. My brother, while awaiting his ride at a hotel in western Illinois, found himself in the presence of a quantity of Trump supporters. They were bemoaning the terrible treatment of Donald Trump by the news media (rather than the terrible treatment of this country by the president), which prompted my brother to write:<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.24px;">The idea that the BBC, the NY Times, the Washington Post, NBC, ABC, CBS, PBS, The New Yorker, Le Monde, Le Figaro, The LA Times, Deutsche Presse-Agentur, the Boston Globe, the CBC, Opera News, NPR, Mother Jones, Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, Highlights </span><span style="background-color: #f6f7f9; color: #1d2129; letter-spacing: -0.24px;">for Children, Animal Planet, Teen Vogue, Vogue, British Vogue, Vogue Knitting, HuffPo, Reuters, the Associated Press, Cat Fancy, and Cooking Light are all having meetings at which they coordinate their efforts to make up mean things about DJT and his merry band of flesh-eating wraiths makes me want to knock their heads together until they shatter and release a flock of cuckoos.</span></span></blockquote>
Perhaps my brother, too, has a flair for the hyperbolic. He isn't <i>really</i> likely to bash peoples' heads together. I feel reasonably certain.<br />
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But maybe when Trump calls the news media "fake," that isn't so much hyperbole as it is lying.<br />
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After all, hyperbole is defined as, "exaggerated statements or claims not meant to be taken literally." Hyperbole is supposed to be obviously untrue. Yet Trump wants us to believe what he is saying about the media. And many people do believe him [See cuckoos for brains, above]. But as my brother pointed out (in an admittedly hyperbolic fashion), it is impossible that all of the media are colluding (!) to make up stories about Trump.<br />
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Hyperbole is a favorite tool of satirists, employed often by the likes of those who work for <a href="http://www.theonion.com/">The Onion</a> and by <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/humor/borowitz-report">Andy Borowitz in The New Yorker</a>* and by my brother. <br />
<br />
Regarding his inappropriate comments towards the president, Rep. Scott Hamman stated in his public apology,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“My intent, when I wrote [the post], was in fact to critique and criticize the increasing presence of this language over the last couple of years. The words were grotesque and inexcusably vulgar, terms that are too prevalent in the rhetorical lexicon of contemporary American politics.”</blockquote>
Hamman was going for satire. He was intentionally using parody and hyperbole to snipe at an old friend on Facebook, and now he has been removed from his legislative committees for words that were not intended to be taken literally, words used in intended exaggeration for effect, a.k.a. hyperbole.<br />
<br />
It is interesting to note here that Governor Paul LePage of Maine has not been removed from anything, though it wasn't all that long ago that he expressed his desire to shoot Representative Drew Gattine from the Maine legislature between the eyes. In the governor's own words,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“When a snot-nosed little guy from Westbrook calls me a racist, now I’d like him to come up here because, tell you right now, I wish it were 1825. And we would have a duel, that’s how angry I am, and I would not put my gun in the air, I guarantee you, I would not be [Alexander] Hamilton. I would point it right between his eyes, because he is a snot-nosed little runt and he has not done a damn thing since he’s been in this Legislature to help move the state forward.”</blockquote>
And this was after leaving an expletive-laden voice message on Rep. Gattine's voicemail, in which he also said, "I'm after you."<br />
<br />
But...LePage is being hyperbolic, right? No one <i>really</i> thinks he is truly after Rep. Gattine. (Wait—lets ask Rep. Gattine and his family.) If he were, he would have faced some consequences, right?<br />
<br />
So was it hyperbole or not? He never <i>said</i> it was. But it seems we've brushed it off as idle talk, as exaggerated statements not meant to be taken literally.<br />
<br />
Was Gattine's charge that LePage is racist also hyperbole?<br />
<br />
I believe it was a charge leveled seriously, and and we ought to discuss it seriously, but we can't, because the opposing sides have already walked their ten paces and are prepared to turn and fire.<br />
<br />
(Or am I being hyperbolic?)<br />
<br />
Perhaps my problem is not with hyperbole, per say. I'm a fan of satire, after all. The problem is with hyperbolic statements intended to be perceived as truths. Or taken as such by unwise readers or listeners.<br />
<br />
Or when the utterer cries <i>Hyperbole</i>! after the fact, after he or she is already in hot water, hyperbole becomes a scapegoat, which does not suit it one bit.<br />
<br />
And I believe the governor (and the president, for that matter) gets away with this because hyperbolic statements are everywhere now. We think in excesses and extremes, which makes communication among people with different viewpoints <i>literally**</i> impossible.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*If you click on the Borowitz link, you'll see the title "Satire from the Borowitz Report" at the top of the page. I'm pretty sure this used to just read "From the Borowitz Report." And in case readers don't know what satire means, they've added the sub-title "Not the news." I guess The New Yorker didn't want anyone to think Borowitz was writing real news, which is probably wise of them, considering the state of our nation.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">**And I do mean literally in a literal way, not a figurative way, as it is so frequently used. But that's a lament for another day.</span><br />
<br />
<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-35269176358535849612017-01-22T14:49:00.000-05:002017-01-22T14:49:09.502-05:00A Social Media Time Out<div style="text-align: left;">
Facebook for me is usually a happy place.</div>
<br />
I've managed to surround my digital self with lots and lots of like-minded individuals, and so my Facebook world tends to run towards liberal ideas, cat videos, and teacher-loving puns.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_mGg92LjBIk/WIT_lyz3sSI/AAAAAAAATNM/_W_2s-Zd56QWGaugpgvxgky1Ws9t1Ep7QCLcB/s1600/January%2B2017%2BCALENDAR%2BCommons%2BCafe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_mGg92LjBIk/WIT_lyz3sSI/AAAAAAAATNM/_W_2s-Zd56QWGaugpgvxgky1Ws9t1Ep7QCLcB/s320/January%2B2017%2BCALENDAR%2BCommons%2BCafe.jpg" width="310" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
When people post about all the negativity they see on social media, I think, <i>Ha! Not me! Will you just </i>look<i> at this adorable puppy going sledding?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/B5n0pk6fUP0?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>
<i><br /></i><br />
I also have friends who don't do Facebook. They avoid it for entirely reasonable reasons:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I just know I'd get sucked in and never get anything done."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I'm not comfortable with putting myself out there on the internet so much."</blockquote>
And I think, <i>I hear you, but I'm pretty good about not getting lost in Facebook land, and I understand the privacy stuff so I'm pretty well protected. Plus I never publish anything too personal.</i><br />
<br />
And so, periodically throughout my day, I take a spin through the latest info on my Facebook wall. (Do we still call it a wall on Facebook? Or is it a feed like Twitter?)<br />
<br />
Speaking of Twitter, I've got one of those accounts, too, though I use it a lot less.<br />
<br />
But since the election....oh the election.<br />
<br />
The election broke my heart. I, like many, many others, walked around in a fog for days and days, and often, when I wasn't staring blankly off into the distance, I was staring at my phone. My Facebook World was mourning too, and I was glad to have the company.<br />
<br />
And then the article sharing started. "The President Elect did What?"<br />
<br />
And before I knew it, I'd spent too many minutes to count chasing stories down rabbit holes, only to emerge more miserable and foggy than ever. I wasn't finding solace. I was finding heartache, anger, and dismay.<br />
<br />
My husband kept saying, "maybe you need to take a break" when I'd look up from my screen all weepy or shell-shocked.<br />
<br />
As Inauguration Day and the Women's March on Washington neared, I made a big decision: I needed a Social Media Time Out.<br />
<br />
The last straw snapped when I cruised through Trump's Twitter Feed. When he didn't include an apostrophe where he should have, I nearly sobbed. It wasn't so much the missing apostrophe, of course, but that's what tipped the balance.<br />
<br />
I've been grumbling a lot lately about a lot of things: no time for reading for pleasure or exercising, no time to just relax, and I've been blaming it on work, which has indeed been busy. I've had more essays to grade than ever this year due to my combination of classes and student numbers. <br />
<br />
But I began to wonder just how much time I was wasting with my "quick peeks" at Facebook, etc.<br />
<br />
So I decided I had to be part of my online community for the Inauguration, and then I was eager to see the turnout for the Women's Marches all around the world. I'm glad I made these decisions, as I could cry in the company of my electronic friends on Friday, and then "LIKE" a million posts on Saturday showing the strength of women around the world--and also the awesomeness of their signage. Take that, you nasty old apostrophe abuser!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-um2bZhaCntA/WIUJyNzDLCI/AAAAAAAATNs/b5YDjSp7zvgvXvxJU9V_fPYyUprePqUyACLcB/s1600/march%2Bsign%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-um2bZhaCntA/WIUJyNzDLCI/AAAAAAAATNs/b5YDjSp7zvgvXvxJU9V_fPYyUprePqUyACLcB/s400/march%2Bsign%2B3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
Woo. Ok. So ast night I checked Facebook for the last time, and I'm going to take a break for a while now. Probably not forever, but until I break some bad habits, at least.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-miMNe7Gnzpg/WIUEAYHqBFI/AAAAAAAATNY/Km8ma635O34hLH8re7-obIiT3TaTZpVNgCLcB/s1600/facebook_logo_cross_out_300x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-miMNe7Gnzpg/WIUEAYHqBFI/AAAAAAAATNY/Km8ma635O34hLH8re7-obIiT3TaTZpVNgCLcB/s1600/facebook_logo_cross_out_300x300.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
By midday today, on Day 1 of my Social Media Block-Out, I had reached for my phone, thumb extended toward the little blue square, at least six times. So I removed the shortcut from my home screen.<br />
<br />
I'm a bit alarmed at how often I reach for it.<br />
<br />
Instead, when the urge strikes me, I think of what else I could be doing: playing music, reading a book (I'm taking a break from my online news outlets too. I've probably spent countless hours on articles that I could have spent on novels. I haven't read much fiction at all lately.), doing some stretches. I even downloaded a meditation app. My friends who know me well know that that is a crazytown move for me. I don't meditate. Like, ever.<br />
<br />
So here I go. We'll see if this break has the effect of freeing up time for healthier pursuits, both mental and physical.<br />
<br />
And lest you fear that I'm putting my head in the sand at a time when we should be extra vigilant, please note, I will still listen to the news on my rides to and from work. That will be enough for now.<br />
<br />
Maybe I'll even blog again. Seems I stopped when school hit.<br />
<br />
If we're friends on FB, I'm sure I'll be along again sometime to see you there. But I can be reached in an abundance of other ways if you need me. Until later, Friends.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-50438371520634068942016-08-22T13:48:00.000-04:002016-08-22T14:00:20.950-04:00Bustin' Makes Ya Feel Good<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WuaiMCMxji8/V7srNbO45RI/AAAAAAAAP-k/S_LNyYaZ-hoJVVXOlzwWzyvmBnmszHGygCEw/s1600/ghostbusterslogo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WuaiMCMxji8/V7srNbO45RI/AAAAAAAAP-k/S_LNyYaZ-hoJVVXOlzwWzyvmBnmszHGygCEw/s320/ghostbusterslogo.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(All movie photos in this entry are from <a href="http://www.ghostbusters.com/gallery/" target="_blank">the official Ghostbusters Website</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I like the new </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters </span><span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">movie. I mean, I </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">really</span><span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> like it. I laughed. I jumped. I squeezed Abby’s arm. I even got a little misty at the end. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"> After the exciting opening, Abby leaned over to me and said, "I didn't eat a single junior mint during that whole scene!" She captured my sentiments exactly. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">And I couldn’t stop thinking about it after the movie was over, on the car ride home, while making dinner, and as I brushed my teeth last night. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Having heard about the controversy surrounding the movie (</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hz8X2A7wHyQ" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">some people were really upset about this movie before it even got released</span></a><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, and its trailer </span><a href="https://www.theedgesusu.co.uk/news/2016/08/15/ghostbusters-trailer-hits-1-million-dislikes-on-youtube/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">had over one million dislikes on YouTube</span></a><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">), I decided to do a little research on it, thinking there might be some interesting material in the reviews and discussions for my AP Language and Composition class. I ended up going down a rabbit hole of opinions that varied from love it to hate it. That’s not unusual for any movie, but </span><a href="https://blog.womenandhollywood.com/sexism-and-misogyny-plague-ghostbusters-trailer-proving-even-male-directors-arent-immune-1cdabe3f16cb#.4jwmw2mp0" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">there was definitely something ugly going on with this one</span></a><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. The backlash before it even debuted seemed unprecedented. Before the release, arguments against the the movie included, but were not limited to:</span></span></div>
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A reboot of the classic </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters</span><span style="font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is ridiculous. The first movie was iconic, and any “redo” is disrespectful.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Women can’t be ghostbusters.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">The CGI in the trailer looks terrible. In fact, the whole trailer stinks.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Since the release, critics have added the following responses:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<br />
<ul style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<li dir="ltr" style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The movie is sexist and racist.</span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<ul style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<li dir="ltr" style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The movie is misogynistic.</span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Despite an awesome cast, the script is terrible.</span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Zach Woods and Chris Hemsworth were the only funny people in this movie.</span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The CGI is terrible and there is too much of it.</span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The movie doesn’t acknowledge the original </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters</span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> enough.</span></span></div>
</li>
<li dir="ltr" style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The movie spends too much time acknowledging the original </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On the flip side, there have been some positive reviews, mostly including variations on the following:</span></span></div>
<ul style="margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<li dir="ltr" style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; list-style-type: disc; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The film is funny; get over it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kpPY2DRAWkY/V7srANWQ1YI/AAAAAAAAP-g/8w_mM5SDSHo3NfK3JaXiE7nkGBSI4RmYwCLcB/s1600/ghostbusterswomen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kpPY2DRAWkY/V7srANWQ1YI/AAAAAAAAP-g/8w_mM5SDSHo3NfK3JaXiE7nkGBSI4RmYwCLcB/s640/ghostbusterswomen.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">How could these four people be anything but hilarious?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G-UiMMQyijw/V7ssicqVz0I/AAAAAAAAP-s/C9RLYLThzsIwGIK1Plmqdk-b3Wq2t4vMgCLcB/s1600/Rotten%2BTomatoes.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G-UiMMQyijw/V7ssicqVz0I/AAAAAAAAP-s/C9RLYLThzsIwGIK1Plmqdk-b3Wq2t4vMgCLcB/s200/Rotten%2BTomatoes.png" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The new </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">currently has a 73% rating from movie critics on <a href="https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/ghostbusters_2016" target="_blank">Rotten Tomatoes</a>, and a 57% “liked it” rating from the general audience. Over at <a href="http://www.metacritic.com/movie/ghostbusters-2016">metacritic.com</a>, the critics average is 60 out of 100, while the users (average movie goers who log in to this site?) give it a 2.7 out of 10. This disparity feels fishy to me. A quick look at the scores for previous big movies (the new </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Star Trek</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, the new </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Star Wars</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, the new </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jurassic Park</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (that is, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jurassic World)</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, reveal much closer scores between critics and regular viewers, with the critics tending to be slightly lower than the rest of us movie-goers.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So what on earth has the general public got against the new </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters</span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m tired of trying to figure it out.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead, I’ll repeat what I said at the start of this post: I like the new </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">movie. I mean, I </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">really</span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> like it.</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To prepare ourselves, we watched the original </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters</span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> last week, showing it to Abby for the first time. (I usually stick pretty close to </span><a href="https://www.commonsensemedia.org/" style="font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Common Sense Media’s</span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> recommendations for ages when deciding what Abby can and can’t see, but I was Abby’s age when </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">came out, and I don’t think it damaged me. She has also demonstrated that she is not prone to freaking out or having nightmares after watching spooky movies). </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xo0pK4n6-1M/V7suB_DQ0JI/AAAAAAAAP-8/rQTgb66EcMkXrn-XqFkFYYd1T2bTHFVIwCLcB/s1600/ghostbusters_1984_image_064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Xo0pK4n6-1M/V7suB_DQ0JI/AAAAAAAAP-8/rQTgb66EcMkXrn-XqFkFYYd1T2bTHFVIwCLcB/s400/ghostbusters_1984_image_064.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Remember these guys?</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Rewatching this classic revealed a number of things:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The plot is pretty darn thin.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill Murry’s character, Peter Venkman, is a jerk.</span></span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sigourney Weaver’s character, Dana Barrett, is ridiculous, especially because she falls for Venkman.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The special effects are gosh darn funny by today’s standards.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The theme song is still fabulous.</span></span></div>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What’s not to love about Annie Potts’s character, Janine Melnitz?</span></span></div>
</li>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The movie is still fun to watch and I’m glad it was part of my childhood.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Abby loved it. (Probably because we told her that we loved it. I don’t think she understood half of it.)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So going into the new </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, I was cautiously optimistic, but kind of expecting it to be only mediocre.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">In fact, </span><a href="http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/ghostbusters-2016" style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">one review that really stuck with me</a><span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;"> from my trip down the rabbit hole said the following:</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All this misplaced misogynistic hostility that has been sliming the reputation of director’s </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Paul Feig</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">’s gender-reassignment redo (co-written with </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Katie Dippold</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, his partner on “</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Heat</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">”) has stirred the girl-power advocate inside of me. But, the reality is, there is perhaps one, maybe two moments that come anywhere close to being as memorable as that 32-year-old not-quite-family-friendly joke [from the original]. And that reality leaves me in the unhappy position of having to admit that this feminized attempt could have used a makeover itself.</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The critic, Susan Wioszczyna, goes on to write,</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span id="docs-internal-guid-bc87f686-b32e-9267-fd07-0383bc1b57b6"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What really galled me was the attitude that these supposedly brilliant and successful women are forced to assume. While nerdy wise guys Murray, </span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Harold Ramis</span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and </span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dan Aykroyd</span><span style="font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> never questioned their belief in afterlife inhabitants or wavered in their confidence to control them despite a raft of skeptics, she-geeks Wiig and McCarthy are cowed into playing misfits who were shunned by others because of their spooky interests when they were young girls, and are now emotionally damaged goods trying to prove themselves right. All I know is I don’t want my funny gals muted. I want them full blast.</span></span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was afraid I was going to feel the same way.</span></span></div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Instead, I like the new </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">movie. I mean, I </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">really</span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> like it. (Is there an echo in here?)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GEGLlhdz6xc/V7sxXKSpdwI/AAAAAAAAP_M/94TzUm9ooR8sLYG7PNkVaAkxNRDGbQcsgCLcB/s1600/ErinG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GEGLlhdz6xc/V7sxXKSpdwI/AAAAAAAAP_M/94TzUm9ooR8sLYG7PNkVaAkxNRDGbQcsgCLcB/s200/ErinG.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ghostbuster Erin Gilbert!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Admittedly, at one point during the movie, I found myself wishing that Kristen Wiig’s character (Erin Gilbert) had more confidence and didn’t make stupid decisions. “Come on, Erin! You are woman! You are powerful! Why are you so afraid of that big jerk who holds your university tenure in front of you like a carrot on a stick?” And when Leslie Jones showed up as Patty Tolan, the subway worker, I spared a moment to think, “Why couldn’t there be three African American scientists and a white subway worker?”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-brcgedASZJw/V7sxnDxHMVI/AAAAAAAAP_Q/M2qTlkg-iFImjQ47eFA1fkdhcof34lSqACLcB/s1600/PattyT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-brcgedASZJw/V7sxnDxHMVI/AAAAAAAAP_Q/M2qTlkg-iFImjQ47eFA1fkdhcof34lSqACLcB/s200/PattyT.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ghostbuster Patty Tolan!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But I checked both of those thoughts. You know why? Because I realized that it was supremely ridiculous to think that a movie starring four amazing women should have to DO ALL THE THINGS. One movie can’t fight all the fights. And this new </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">does indeed fight some of the fights while still being fun and engaging. I mean, </span><a href="http://bechdeltest.com/view/6977/ghostbusters/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">this movie passes the Bechdel Test with flying colors</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Woo! When does </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: italic; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">that </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">happen?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When you look at what the women in this year’s Olympics accomplished (</span><a href="http://www.npr.org/sections/thetorch/2016/08/21/490818961/u-s-women-are-the-biggest-winners-in-rio-olympics" style="font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">if the US women were their own country, they would have tied Great Britain for number of gold medals</span></a><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) but also observed the flack Gabby Douglas got for not putting her hand on her heart during the National Anthem, you’ll clearly see that women are held to absurd standards. That’s just crazytown. Women, of all people, need to watch out for that sort of foolishness and put a stop to it.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look! They put their hair up to fight ghosts! That was a nice change from other action hero ladies in movies.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When we came out of the theater yesterday, and Abby and I looked at each other and simultaneously said, “That was awesome!” the movie won on a million levels in my book. We discussed which Ghostbuster we would want to be (I’m torn between Patty and Jillian; Abby preferred Abby and Jillian). We swapped memorable lines (“Get out of my friend, Ghost!”), and effused over the effectiveness of the opening scene (door knobs turning when they shouldn’t be turning ALWAYS makes my heart pound). There was debate over best moment in the movie. My favorite scene is when Jillian Holtzmann whips out a couple of fancy ghost-busting-guns during the epic battle at the end and whoops some serious ghost butt. She is super badass. And funny. WIN!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">My whole family appreciated the cameos by actors from the original film, loved the nods to the 1984 version, and appreciated the variations. It felt like a good song cover to me: it’s reminiscent enough of the original to pay respect, but definitely provides a new take.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So yeah, I like the new </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ghostbusters </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">movie. I mean, I </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">really</span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> like it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Which is way more fun than trashing it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bonus! Chris Hemsworth’s character is named Kevin. So now I have two goofy, golden-haired Kevins to adore. What is not to love about that?</span><br />
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-49202679279907298242016-08-21T20:02:00.000-04:002016-08-21T20:02:42.289-04:00Acadia Diaries: Going HomeDay 5: The Last Day of our visit to Acadia<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for a table at breakfast</td></tr>
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We decided to have our last breakfast on MDI at a restaurant. Bar Harbor is So pet friendly. And <a href="http://cafethisway.com/index.php" target="_blank">Cafe This Way</a> is So delicious. It was a little warm sitting in the sun, to Kevin's dismay. But then he found a nice shady spot in the aisle where all the servers had to walk, and he was happy. Good thing they were indulgent.<br />
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After breakfast, it was time to pack up the campsite. (This a 35 second time lapse of a process that took about an hour.)<br />
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Then it was time for the car ride home.<br />
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And that was that--our latest Acadia camping adventure, in the books.</div>
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Some favorite moments:</div>
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From Abby's camera:<br />
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From Jon's camera:<br />
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-15009661053052844842016-08-17T12:06:00.000-04:002016-08-18T09:23:35.391-04:00Acadia Diaries: Day 4, Good Eats, Great HikesAfter the nighttime adventures of thunderstorm and crashing awnings, we all slept in on Day 4 of our Acadia trip.<br />
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After our leisurely morning, we headed to the Jordan Pond House for an early lunch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to Abby for these photos!</td></tr>
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I don't know how people feel about the Jordan Pond House. Some may say it's a tourist trap. Others may say it's a cultural icon.<br />
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I just really like eating out on the lawn and looking over Jordan Pond. I mean, how can that be bad? And of course, there are always the popovers.<br />
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The place is ripe for photo-snapping:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love tea. (Photo by Jon)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kevin liked joining us for lunch, too. Though he didn't get any popovers. (Photo by Abby)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kevin, enjoying the view.</td></tr>
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Following lunch, we took a stroll by Jordan Pond, and this is probably my favorite photo of the whole Acadia adventure.<br />
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We filled up the afternoon on Day 4 with two fabulous hikes, and I highly recommend both of them. They are not long, but they provide some spectacular opportunities along the way. Both are on the Quiet Side of Mount Desert Island.</div>
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Flying Mountain</h2>
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The first hike we did was the <a href="http://www.mainetrailfinder.com/trails/trail/acadia-national-park-flying-mountain-loop" target="_blank">Flying Mountain trail</a>. This trail is a 1.5 mile loop. Part of the loop is along a logging road. This is not the exciting part. I think a lot of people hike the trail through the woods/over the summit first, and come back to the parking lot via the logging road, but we did the opposite, which I highly recommend. </div>
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The road itself is boring, but not long, and at the end of it, you find yourself in Valley Cove. When I think of gems on hiking adventures, Valley Cove is tops on the list. It is a charming beach with a rocky, pebbly shore, perfect for a quick swim. Sailboats conveniently moored in the distance added even more delight to the scenery. </div>
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We didn't know about this little beach, and so were not quite prepared for swimming, but Abby and Kevin made the most of it:</div>
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The rest of the hike, up and over the Flying Mountain summit, is like walking through a fairyland. We kept describing the hike as magical.</div>
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We did not overlook the scenic overlook, but made far too many jokes about how some people might overlook the overlook.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Overlook (photo by Jon)</td></tr>
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The Ship Harbor Nature Trail</h2>
Our second hike of the afternoon was one we had found on a previous visit. <a href="http://www.mainetrailfinder.com/trails/trail/acadia-national-park-ship-harbor-trail" target="_blank">The Ship Harbor Nature Trail</a> is also short (1.3 miles) and yet has a little bit of everything (except a lot of climbing up up and up).<br />
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There's forest walking, an incredible pebble beach/inlet with calm waters, and then a section of the trail along the rocky coast. Who doesn't love scrambling over rocky coastline?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jon</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">People like to build little towers with the stones on this beach. Kevin preferred swimming. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Kevin swimming! A whole minute of it! I know!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jon</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jon</td></tr>
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All in all, it was a great day--one of the best of our whole vacation.<br />
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-70266346909335291082016-08-07T20:00:00.000-04:002016-08-07T20:00:02.644-04:00Acadia Diaries: Day 3, In Which We Go Biking...and Do Some Other Stuff<span style="text-align: center;">Day 3: BIKING DAY! (Which turned out to be biking MORNING!)</span><br />
<br />First--what to do with Kevin, who is wonderful, but who has not yet learned to ride a bicycle...<br /><br />My dad suggested something like this:<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.ebay.com/itm/HoundAbout-Classic-Steel-Pet-Dog-Bicycle-Bike-Trailer-Carrier-Blue-Large-/291797153224" target="_blank">Only $209 on ebay!</a></td></tr>
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But we opted to find Kevin an alternative experience for the day. Arranging doggy daycare at the last minute on Mount Desert Island is not recommended. Options are limited and slots fill up quickly.<br /><br />Fortunately, we found Steve.<br /><br />Steve, of <a href="http://stevespetsitting.yolasite.com/">Steve's Dog Walking and Pet Sitting</a>, is located in Lamoine, about 30 minutes by car from our campground on MDI (Lamoine is off the island). <br /><br />Kevin got to spend his day hanging out with Steve, and a toy poodle named Duke. We could not have been happier and will definitely call on Steve again when next we need to make alternate plans for Kevin while visiting Acadia. Should you need similar assistance, we highly recommend Steve.<br /><h2>
The Biking Adventure</h2>
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Pre-Biking Breakfast Location: <a href="http://www.jordanswildblueberry.com/Menu/Menus.aspx">Jordan's Restaurant</a> for pancakes, etc.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uII4hYZAiWY/V6fFOZv3juI/AAAAAAAAPgY/vz9CZBMJ_Xcw6JrfWtkvFA4sz3PgehGBQCPcB/s1600/IMG_0300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uII4hYZAiWY/V6fFOZv3juI/AAAAAAAAPgY/vz9CZBMJ_Xcw6JrfWtkvFA4sz3PgehGBQCPcB/s400/IMG_0300.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photos by Jon Inman</td></tr>
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Biking Route: Carriage trail around Eagle Lake, distance 6.7 miles<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jon Inman</td></tr>
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Ups: Eagle Lake is gorgeous, everyone's bike functioned admirably, and we all made it with no spills.<br />
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Downs: Well, this was Abby's first real ride outside of a pretty flat bike trail near home, and...the uphill part was long. So the biggest down was an up. Oh, and mosquitos. Which it turns out like Abby better than me, poor kid.<br />
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But we made it.<br />
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Aaaand....we were done biking for the day before noon. Jon and I hope to return to Acadia and spend a day or two riding--but that was too much to ask of the kiddo.<br />
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So it was lunch time and we were back at the campsite...with no pooch. It seemed rude to do something Kevin would like to do without Kevin, so we hemmed and hawed and finally decided: swimming!<br />
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The Afternoon Swim Adventure</h2>
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We headed to Echo Lake for a refreshing swim.</div>
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And we got the benefit of a really cool wildlife experience. The area roped off behind Abby in the photo above was to keep people away from a loon's nest. But there it was, on full display:<div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PF-8z9FY4_s/V6fHQWvN0MI/AAAAAAAAPhQ/A3ssZm7Ns8MAgEHvQqkJUXTVao04TP7KACLcB/s1600/IMG_0308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PF-8z9FY4_s/V6fHQWvN0MI/AAAAAAAAPhQ/A3ssZm7Ns8MAgEHvQqkJUXTVao04TP7KACLcB/s640/IMG_0308.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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After our swim, we couldn't stand another minute without Kevin, so we went to retrieve our retriever.<br /><br /><div>
Kevin had a great day with Steve, and to celebrate his return to us, we took him to Lamoine Beach for a swim and some fetch.</div>
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Another full day led to this:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleepy kid</td></tr>
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Abby transitioned from car to camper in Zombie mode, and fell right to sleep. Kevin did much the same:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleepy dog (photo by Jon Inman)</td></tr>
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Good thing we went to bed early because that night brought the biggest BUMMER of the whole trip. Late in the night it began to rain. No, it began to pour. No, I'm pretty sure we suffered through a deluge. The camper kept us nice and dry, but the sound of heavy rain on Zelda the Pop-Up is something else. It sounds like acorns are falling on the roof en masse. Only the acorns are made of lead. And have demonic personalities.<br /><br />And poor Zelda suffered a loss. A very loud woosh and bang followed by our scrambling for flashlights revealed that the Pop-up's awning had come crashing down after the metal support along the front buckled and folded in half. <br /><br />This scared the bejeezus out of me. I thought Abby's entire side had collapsed, so when I realized she was fine, I thought, "Phew! The Awning! No worries." Of course Jon heard the crash and assumed it was the awning, and when he saw the front bar bent in half, he felt pretty miserable about the whole thing. Perspective, right?<br /><br />Anyway, the next morning we managed to straighten out the bar enough to roll up the awning and pack it away. But it will have to be completely replaced.<br /><br />Still, no one got hurt, and we were far better off than all the folks around us in tents.<br /><br />After the wild night, we scrapped our early morning plans to catch the sunrise on Cadillac Mountain (we would have had to leave the campsite around 4:30 AM!)<br /><br />Nope. Been there. Done that. Might do it again another time. But not this time.<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YaDyPmJ6z54/V6fFOWTl6xI/AAAAAAAAPgY/34KKvowmSEcWAqqlpn7RK1UXzejIgZYkACPcB/s1600/IMG_0410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YaDyPmJ6z54/V6fFOWTl6xI/AAAAAAAAPgY/34KKvowmSEcWAqqlpn7RK1UXzejIgZYkACPcB/s640/IMG_0410.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Jon Inman</td></tr>
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-11041182341492087902016-07-29T21:44:00.002-04:002016-07-29T21:55:14.673-04:00The Acadia Diaries: Days 1 & 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This Faint-Hearted Adventurer just got back from a family vacation to Acadia National Park.</div>
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Overall thoughts on the trip: It was full of Ups and Downs, both Literally and Figuratively<br />
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Participants: Adventure Husband, Adventure Daughter, Adventure Dog, and me<br />
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Lodging: Our Pop-Up Camper, affectionately called Zelda (after the character in the Nintendo game of the same name. Any guesses why?)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zelda (and Kevin) at home in the driveway</td></tr>
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Campground: <a href="http://www.ssvc.info/" target="_blank">Somes Sound View Campground</a><br />
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I'm not out to write a full-scale review of the campground, but I will say this: it was not our favorite. Only one bathhouse for the entire campground, some distance from our site (down a steep hill, so we couldn't even easily bike to it, which would have made it more fun.) There were porta-potties, one rather close to our site (eww). I am not a fan of these and only visited it once. The bathhouse itself was serviceable, but it should have been cleaned more frequently than once a day (at mid-day).<br />
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Our favorite Campground on MDI is, hands down, <a href="http://www.mountdesertcampground.com/" target="_blank">The Mount Desert Campground</a>, where I have camped at least four times (maybe five?). But the MDC doesn't allow dogs between July 2 and Labor Day weekend. And we were not leaving Kevin behind for this adventure! Hiking is practically his favorite activity.<br />
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Also, in the interest of full disclosure, I didn't make a reservation anywhere until just a few weeks before the trip. When that's the case, you take what you can get. And we were happy to get something that would take we three, Zelda, and Kevin.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Day 1 (Saturday):</span> We spent the morning at home finishing our prep and packing--food, clothes, bikes, etc. We didn't rush, figuring we had until 6PM to check in at the campground, but when 2:00 rolled around and we were still packing, we started to feel a little pressure.<br />
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The ride up: Uneventful. Not too much traffic, got there in good time. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Obligatory on-the-road selfie with Kevin and Abby (photo credit: Abby)</td></tr>
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First oops: Realized en route that we had forgotten pillows. Stopped at Walmart (<i>not </i>my favorite choice), and bought pillows for $5.87 each. These pillows proved remarkably comfortable.<br />
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Set-up: Somewhat hurried due to impending thunderstorms (that never came) and some challenges getting the camper level. We totally need to invest in some sort of leveling device like <a href="https://www.amazon.com/BAL-28050-Light-Trailer-Leveler/dp/B000BH5MAA/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1469822018&sr=8-2&keywords=rv+tire+leveler" target="_blank">this</a> or <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Tri-Lynx-00015-Lynx-Levelers-Pack/dp/B0028PJ10K/ref=sr_1_5?ie=UTF8&qid=1469822059&sr=8-5&keywords=rv+tire+leveler" target="_blank">this</a> but we don't camp a lot and keep avoiding the $$ of such a purchase. Sent Jon out to buy firewood and milk. The campground charged $5 for roughly 7 little sticks of wood. Myriad places along the roadside on the ride in sold more than that for $3 per bundle.<br />
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Dinner: Forgot salad dressing for pasta salad (oops the second). Grill woes--our wee grill hadn't really been fired up in quite some time--seemed on the slow side, and we forgot to bring our grill brush, but we managed hot dogs and chips, plus an apple. Could have been worse.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: Abby (note attractive porta-potty behind us)</td></tr>
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Post-Dinner: Began planning adventures for Day 2--a big hike, debated between <a href="http://www.mainetrailfinder.com/trails/trail/acadia-national-park-norumbega-mountain-loop" target="_blank">Norumbega</a> and the <a href="http://www.mainetrailfinder.com/trails/trail/acadia-national-park-north-bubble-loop" target="_blank">North Bubble</a> (with a longer return plan than this map shows).<br />
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Sleepy time: Kevin slept in Abby's bunk, which pleased everyone (most of all, Abby) Somewhat restless night for the adults--the camper bunks aren't exactly loft-y. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kevin proved a delightful bunk-mate for Abby (photo credit: Abby)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Day 2 (Sunday)</span>: Our first full day and our biggest hike.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cgNb3eDJKog/V5lI1UNkbzI/AAAAAAAAPBs/GGy0yPuH4bYpG4oVeJhA3W7I-yCUrCcCQCKgB/s1600/DSCF0027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cgNb3eDJKog/V5lI1UNkbzI/AAAAAAAAPBs/GGy0yPuH4bYpG4oVeJhA3W7I-yCUrCcCQCKgB/s400/DSCF0027.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family selfie over breakfast (hello, chins!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our trail is outlined in white.<br />
Distance: roughly 4 miles</td></tr>
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Breakfast: Cereal (Adventure Dad: Honeynut Cheerios; Adventure Daughter: Cheerios; Me: Froot Loops. Hey. Don't judge me.)<br />
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Prep: Packed our adventure bags with map, sunglasses, snacks, bug spray, sun screen, first aid kit, Kevin's bowl, lots of water, etc. etc. etc.<br />
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Third Oops: Realized we forgot to pack Abby's sneakers. Of all things! Can't hike in flip flops, so she ended up with <a href="http://www.shoes.com/girls-merrell-trail-chaser-preschool-multi-p2_id492484?adtrack=gpa&term=Women%2527s+Merrell+Trail+Chaser+Preschool&offer=&device=c&network=g&matchtype=&mkwid=&creative=&pcid=492484&adpos=1o1&gclid=Cj0KEQjw_eu8BRDC-YLHusmTmMEBEiQArW6c-Otw5JEYyEvAUWWTDrZ9il1i2-tqQNqr5RMW7N1VKYAaAngx8P8HAQ" target="_blank">an awesome pair of Merrells</a> (ouch to the pocket book, but gosh darn good shoes). <br />
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Hike: The North Bubble and Beyond<br />
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We scored a parking spot at the teeny-tiny Bubbles Parking lot--which was shocking after our delayed start due to the shoe-buying excursion.<br />
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<b>Ups and Downs of the hike:</b><br />
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Up 1: The view of Jordan Pond from the North Bubble is delightful. <br />
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Up 2: It felt great to head on instead of turning around and going back down the way we came up (like everyone else who got to the summit when we did). <br />
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Up 3: There is a magical pine forrest along the shore of Eagle lake.<br />
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Up 4: Wild blueberries!<br />
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Down 1: The Eagle Lake Trail is listed as E (for Easy) on the map. Part of it was indeed easy. Other (long) parts included much climbing and scrambling over big chunks of granite. This is super fun, but nearly a mile of that sort of scrambling after already walking nearly 3 miles, felt a little much. <br />
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Down 2: Kevin took an elicit dip in Eagle Lake (there is no swimming, human or otherwise, in Eagle Lake). He only swam very briefly, but he found the glistening water too much to resist. Sometimes I forget how young and impulsive he is, as he is usually so well behaved.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Photos from the Hike</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nmxYO1M_OZs/V5lHI6JfF5I/AAAAAAAAO_o/_KcXXy1bx3wnx_itQFVP0tzqQEGI8_9kQCKgB/s1600/20160724_104528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nmxYO1M_OZs/V5lHI6JfF5I/AAAAAAAAO_o/_KcXXy1bx3wnx_itQFVP0tzqQEGI8_9kQCKgB/s640/20160724_104528.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fun climbing on the way to the North Bubble Summit</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Abby!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the summit of North Bubble (hikers in the background just went back the way we all came up. Too bad for them! Good for us--had the rest of the hike mostly to ourselves! They were a big, sprawling party.)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XWPym3SpOgw/V5lI1QMRlMI/AAAAAAAAPCU/UT2qAHw05G0vorHNAzc2-A6L8zQutBqYwCKgB/s1600/DSCF0042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XWPym3SpOgw/V5lI1QMRlMI/AAAAAAAAPCU/UT2qAHw05G0vorHNAzc2-A6L8zQutBqYwCKgB/s640/DSCF0042.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jordan Pond view from the North Bubble Summit (photo credit: Abby)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blueberries!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fQIUhjc-sNw/V5lHI5UcfII/AAAAAAAAPAk/_bEj1VWiPuQJ-9G2lQolJJebY5vZZbxiACKgB/s1600/20160724_105412.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fQIUhjc-sNw/V5lHI5UcfII/AAAAAAAAPAk/_bEj1VWiPuQJ-9G2lQolJJebY5vZZbxiACKgB/s640/20160724_105412.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of photo ops</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zOeCZZZZPGI/V5lHI35uHLI/AAAAAAAAO48/9QkyVUYpMv8BtT0NY0yMimnQsuP7DgaUACKgB/s1600/20160724_114650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zOeCZZZZPGI/V5lHI35uHLI/AAAAAAAAO48/9QkyVUYpMv8BtT0NY0yMimnQsuP7DgaUACKgB/s640/20160724_114650.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Eagle Lake (and of cute kid and cute dog)</td></tr>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/yGVotDcsYfQ/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yGVotDcsYfQ?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
Video of the magical pine forest (thanks, Jon!) <br />
It doesn't exactly capture the magical essence of the place, but trust me, it was special!<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-heA6LZK0S2Y/V5lHI0dGvLI/AAAAAAAAO48/b2RYSLm9G9QRh2dmg6RQRystsO29FCjOwCKgB/s1600/20160724_122719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-heA6LZK0S2Y/V5lHI0dGvLI/AAAAAAAAO48/b2RYSLm9G9QRh2dmg6RQRystsO29FCjOwCKgB/s640/20160724_122719.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mere moments before Kevin's indiscretion</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Post Hike</span><br />
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Everybody was pretty tired. Back at the campsite we had ham and cheese sandwiches (I crave these when hiking for some reason). Some of us were grumpier than others about how <i>boring</i> campsites can be. (Hint: it wasn't Kevin, Mom, or Dad)<br />
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Made a trip to Bar Harbor to poke around. But it was hot, crowded, and the same old stuff for sale year after year. Was pleasantly surprised by the number of stores that allowed dogs inside. Also pleased with Kevin's in-store demeanor. Abby bought a stuffed animal. Is this a surprise? No. Also, we bought salad dressing, cheese, and a metal spatula (oops number four) at the Bar harbor Hannaford's.<br />
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Abby fell asleep in the car on the ride back to camp, and then snoozed for well over an hour in the backseat while we made dinner. Had a nice meal of burgers and pasta salad, followed by a s'more for Abby. I am an expert s'more maker, though I do not eat them. (I just go for the toasted marshmallows.)<br />
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Acadia Diaries, Day 3: forthcoming.<br />
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-71852719998434828472016-07-21T18:56:00.000-04:002016-07-21T18:56:56.886-04:00Motivationally Speaking...Motivation is a fickle thing.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">This blog is making me think a lot about my relationship with the great outdoors. When push comes to shove, I usually need both to get up and get outside.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I've been pondering why that is, exploring my fears (dying in a freak accident) and freak-out causers (bugs). But only recently have I started focusing on the concept of motivation.</span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Motivation: </span></span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">the</span> <span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box;">state</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">or</span> <span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box;">condition</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">of</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">being</span> </span><a class="dbox-xref dbox-roman" href="http://www.dictionary.com/browse/motivate" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #307dbc; display: inline; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration: none;">motivated</a><span style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">or</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">having</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">a</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">strong</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">reason</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">to </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box;">act</span> <span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box;">or</span> <span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box;">accomplish</span> <span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box;">something </span></span> (I'm going with dictionary.com's second definition here).</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">What are my reasons for wanting to spend time in the out-of-doors? Well, let's see:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bmyVtjQN3LA/V4z3D4oHniI/AAAAAAAAOWo/vZadlkzy5zEkczH0jP2nIEvQy42Ak7EswCKgB/s1600/20160718_104136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bmyVtjQN3LA/V4z3D4oHniI/AAAAAAAAOWo/vZadlkzy5zEkczH0jP2nIEvQy42Ak7EswCKgB/s320/20160718_104136.jpg" width="180" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">1) It's pretty.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">2) I live in Maine--I'm supposed to want to go outside.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">3) I need exercise because I am not as healthy as I want to be.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">4) Kevin needs walks.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">5) I feel great when I get back <i>inside</i> after going <i>outside</i>.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Recently I started reading Michelle Segar's book, <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/No-Sweat-Science-Motivation-Lifetime/dp/0814434851/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1469137013&sr=1-1&keywords=no+sweat" target="_blank">No Sweat: How the Simple Science of Motivation Can Bring You a Lifetime of Fitness</a>. </i>Now listen; it has actually taken me a fair bit of courage to tell you I'm reading this book. I worry about people gettin' judgey over my choice of reading material. I find the title of the book corny, and I look at any self-help text with a wary eye, but I bought this book because I am constantly bemoaning my lack of motivation and will power.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I'm only a few chapters in, so I'm reserving my full judgement of it for now, but something I read in the book about motivation has been playing pinball in my brain.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">At one point, Segar asks this question: "On a scale of 1 to 5--with 1 being 'a chore to accomplish' and 5 being 'a gift to give yourself'--circle the number that best describes how you feel about exercise. 1 2 3 4 5.</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;">"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;">I've been subbing in other words in place of "exercise" in this question: writing, bike-riding, going outside, cleaning the house, etc. etc. Segar suggests that when something feels like a chore, it's because the motivations for it lie outside of ourselves--they are "should"s imposed by society ("I should lose weight," "I should be healthier"). But activities that feel like a gift have internal motivations ("This makes me feel awesome"). So people who love running because of how they feel when they run are going to keep at it longer than people who run because they think running is something they should do to stay healthy.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;">She spends a good deal of time explaining about how extrinsic motivation does not really help someone achieve goals, but intrinsic motivation does. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;">Looking back at my list of reasons for spending time outside, I see that 3 of the 5 are extrinsic. Oops.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;">She goes on to talk about how we can reframe our motivations, but I'm only part way into that chapter.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;">Here's how this has impacted my life this week:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;">Kevin and I have gone for a hike every day so far (Mon. to Thurs.) and I have been very conscious of my "why." Yeah, we could both use the exercise, but I've been focusing on a) how lovely it feels to be outside and b) how great I feel when I accomplish a hike. It has really felt great. I've definitely had a "gift" instead of "chore" mentality. Who knew?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hgI7qDdm9ns/V4z3BkxPH2I/AAAAAAAAOWo/HOw4Oz-2XUoQs2dFn0d24U7wlf0qP8h8wCKgB/s1600/20160718_105028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hgI7qDdm9ns/V4z3BkxPH2I/AAAAAAAAOWo/HOw4Oz-2XUoQs2dFn0d24U7wlf0qP8h8wCKgB/s640/20160718_105028.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monday: Hedgehog Mountain</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t8EXXPT5ZGs/V45G9YIxz1I/AAAAAAAAOaA/J_Z-2mUkuK0FJh1WZTOVlpW66XY5peZ2wCKgB/s1600/20160719_100001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t8EXXPT5ZGs/V45G9YIxz1I/AAAAAAAAOaA/J_Z-2mUkuK0FJh1WZTOVlpW66XY5peZ2wCKgB/s640/20160719_100001.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tuesday: Mackworth Island</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VngTAsCaOAg/V4-ZqmOhaPI/AAAAAAAAOcM/WOA6ix2-rOANAxuvnt_WkZymZ3KbmqagwCKgB/s1600/20160720_083856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VngTAsCaOAg/V4-ZqmOhaPI/AAAAAAAAOcM/WOA6ix2-rOANAxuvnt_WkZymZ3KbmqagwCKgB/s640/20160720_083856.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wednesday: Hedgehog again</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GJ-T4b7Fekg/V5E67RGm9rI/AAAAAAAAOgY/RA7B2AH7-Nw4HsCrCPmlanuktH3WhkKzgCKgB/s1600/20160721_095214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GJ-T4b7Fekg/V5E67RGm9rI/AAAAAAAAOgY/RA7B2AH7-Nw4HsCrCPmlanuktH3WhkKzgCKgB/s640/20160721_095214.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thursday: Winslow Park</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;">Addendum: I have also had an absolute blast keeping track of my walks on <a href="http://www.strava.com/" target="_blank">Strava</a>. Lots of my biking friends use this (as does Adventure Husband), but I've started using it to record my walks, and I have a groovy time filling in my log for the walk and adding photos. It's cool to see what a route looks like, how long it is, and what the elevation changes are. It also gives me my pace and all that jazz. Super cool. Here's a sample from this week.</span><br />
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<iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="405" scrolling="no" src="https://www.strava.com/activities/646206287/embed/67d34ec5254dd04623e5dabfa14bd7e70b0f96e8" width="590"></iframe>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif;"><br /></span>Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-49658892607484923602016-07-18T14:07:00.000-04:002016-07-18T14:07:06.629-04:00When a Chore Becomes an AdventureI have a confession.<br />
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I never mowed a single lawn until I turned 40.<br />
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As a kid, it was my brother's job (if my dad didn't just do it).<br />
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Now my mother, she judged how well she felt by how much lawn she could mow.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4hV0FHDi3KE/Vz3ti8fefSI/AAAAAAAALZg/h84M9fr1m1g5l52sZIPddVXM4-G8df7pQCKgB/s1600/20150702_145343-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4hV0FHDi3KE/Vz3ti8fefSI/AAAAAAAALZg/h84M9fr1m1g5l52sZIPddVXM4-G8df7pQCKgB/s640/20150702_145343-1.jpg" width="406" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Several months into her chemo treatments--this was a good day.</td></tr>
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For a host of reasons, I managed to avoid lawn-mowing duty when I started adulting. My husband did it, I hired someone to do it, my retired mother-in-law did it. Lucky me!<br />
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But our current house has a fair bit of lawn, and the budget no longer supports frivolities like paid lawn-care, so we maturely cashed in the tax return for a fancy pants mower.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8K5DcXy6TM/V40Xg-5foYI/AAAAAAAAOXA/PpHJcb8QwdsNgEdWhA8WKtTL58WSiMJzQCKgB/s1600/20160521_114844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z8K5DcXy6TM/V40Xg-5foYI/AAAAAAAAOXA/PpHJcb8QwdsNgEdWhA8WKtTL58WSiMJzQCKgB/s640/20160521_114844.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's Jon on the new mower, and this is just a wee bit of the lawn. (And Kevin!)</td></tr>
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We also got a push mower, for the harder-to-reach areas. That's what I used to start my lawn mowing duties. No photos--nothing pretty about me pushing a lawn mower. I felt pretty good about it, and like maybe my mom would be proud of me. But I can't say it brought me the same joy it brought her. Maybe with time...but probably not!<br />
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The push mower didn't really float my boat, but I knew I needed to pitch in and help with the lawn care--it's a lot of work--but, well...<br />
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In the interest of full disclosure, I was terrified of the riding mower.<br />
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I was afraid to mow the lawn on it. I kid you not.<br />
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Finally on Saturday I decided I'd better woman-up and give it a go. In the moments on the driveway while Jon explained to me what this lever did and that button released, I felt my heart race. It all seemed so impossibly complex.<br />
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This is ridiculous, of course. I am not one to shy away from technology, but lawn mowers have freaked me out since forever. Give me a big truck and I'll gladly drive it across the country, but a riding mower, with those whirring blades underneath, um, no.<br />
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Still, in the spirit of new adventures, I finally gave it a go.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8McRhLyMAgs/V40YygHNamI/AAAAAAAAOXM/YJAaB1D3guk3V3GXiebr_RAgIjwmyOaIQCKgB/s1600/20160716_144011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8McRhLyMAgs/V40YygHNamI/AAAAAAAAOXM/YJAaB1D3guk3V3GXiebr_RAgIjwmyOaIQCKgB/s640/20160716_144011.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
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And you know what?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Akg0s-ztras/V40YytOijAI/AAAAAAAAOXM/U_wcpysiTSErGSQTvQbr3vQkkV8aZZh0QCKgB/s1600/20160716_144612-PANO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Akg0s-ztras/V40YytOijAI/AAAAAAAAOXM/U_wcpysiTSErGSQTvQbr3vQkkV8aZZh0QCKgB/s640/20160716_144612-PANO.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Google Photos! You crack me up!</td></tr>
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I liked it.<br />
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Where have you been all my life, riding lawn mower?<br />
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-42099829376411799812016-07-15T17:38:00.000-04:002016-07-15T17:53:42.562-04:00100% Mixed UpI've started this post three times.<br />
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Each time, I felt like I was whining and complaining, and that's something I am consciously trying not to do here on this blog.<br />
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I don't mean to say that everything I write about is happy and perfect and special and awesome, but I do try to focus on what I manage to <i>do</i> versus what I don't do (out of fear, apathy, lack of time, or lack of skill).<br />
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But today? This afternoon? I am a non-starter. I cannot seem to get myself to do <i>anything. </i><br />
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Here is a list of things I could or should be doing:<br />
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1) Washing dishes<br />
2) Unearthing the dining room table<br />
3) Vacuuming<br />
4) Revising an essay<br />
5) Picking up clutter<br />
6) Walking the dog<br />
7) Organizing my Google Drive files<br />
8) Cleaning up my laptop's desktop (isn't it grand that we now have to clean up both literal <i>and</i> virtual spaces?)<br />
9) Calling campgrounds to make a reservation<br />
10) Figuring out a plan for dinner<br />
11) Taking out the recycling<br />
12) Exercising in some form<br />
13) Blogging about any number of recent experiences<br />
14) Getting a jump on the roughly ten million college recommendation letters I'll have to submit this fall<br />
15) Pulling weeds or mowing the lawn<br />
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Multiply that by, oh, twenty, and you'll have a good sense of all the things that need doing. (You've likely got your own list just as long.)<br />
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And then I read <a href="http://www.spinsterjane.com/2016/07/day-15-share-your-pain-social-media.html?platform=hootsuite">this post by Spinster Jane</a> which says, among other things,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
If you are having a bad day. Share it. If the world does not seem to be going your way. Share it.<br />
If you are dealing with a depressive episode. Share it.<br />
If you are suffering grief from loss. Share it.<br />
If you had an anxiety attack this morning. Share it.<br />
If you have a brain crushing creative block. Share it.</blockquote>
As for why, she goes on to write, "Because no one's life is full of bliss 100% of the time."<br />
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And she is 100% correct. <br />
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My day is by no means bad, but rolling around inside my head are the following thoughts, among others:<br />
<br />
1) What the F*#%, Nice, France?<br />
2) Trump--Pence (oh God. And the <a href="http://www.npr.org/2016/07/15/486177667/-memeoftheweek-the-new-trump-pence-thats-doing-something" target="_blank">logo</a>!)<br />
3) Is my daughter's general malaise these past two days my fault?<br />
4) How is it that I want to go to the Clam Festival in Yarmouth and at the same time, I don't want to go?<br />
5) Why do so many people hate Hillary?<br />
6) Why is it a train wreck in comments and replies if I ask that last question on social media?<br />
7) What news source is a trustworthy news source? I've seen the<i><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/" target="_blank"> New York Times</a></i> attacked three times today. I thought they were the good guys.<br />
8) Wow, it's hot.<br />
9) I miss my mom.<br />
10) How can <i>another</i> person I know and love in this world be battling cancer?<br />
<br />
And this list is making it hard to focus on the list above. Some days the world just feels weightier than other days.<br />
<br />
Spinster Jane's post helped me reframe my crappy mood. It has to be ok to not be productive all of the time. It has to be ok to just let the messy shit tumble around in my head for a while, so long as I don't let it take over.<br />
<br />
What I want most of all to do right now is crack open a bottle of wine and watch Netflix. I want to cry over something sappy or laugh uncontrollably over something stupid. (Too bad I'm all caught up on <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1826940/" target="_blank">New Girl</a>. But maybe we've got some <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2467372/" target="_blank">Brooklyn Nine-Nine</a>s to watch.) It would be nice if my husband wants to join me in this. I'll have to ask him when he gets home from work.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Oe6lHeahrMg/V4law4vF70I/AAAAAAAAOQU/xegqqmtKEqU9FLm6DyaCduqfRIFna7zhgCKgB/s1600/20160715_174642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Oe6lHeahrMg/V4law4vF70I/AAAAAAAAOQU/xegqqmtKEqU9FLm6DyaCduqfRIFna7zhgCKgB/s640/20160715_174642.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't mind the mess. I've decided not to.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The rest of the stuff on the first list has waited this long; it can all surely wait one more day.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-43234916140949488262016-07-08T22:57:00.001-04:002016-07-08T22:57:18.076-04:00So This Happened...Blue lights flashed at several intersections around Monument Square this evening. I realized, as I returned to my car after meeting a friend, that patrol cars were blocking off Federal Street, which I intended to walk down.<br />
<br />
Foot traffic wasn't stopped, so on I went. And then I heard chanting: "Hands up, don't shoot!" I realized that a protest or march was headed my way, lead by a slow moving police car, blue lights flashing.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-19URc6rw0o0/V4BZXx3cNvI/AAAAAAAAOCA/gwjpEkLDtKo_j8s9LA32Y3IrzrckKY-MgCKgB/s1600/20160708_212645.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-19URc6rw0o0/V4BZXx3cNvI/AAAAAAAAOCA/gwjpEkLDtKo_j8s9LA32Y3IrzrckKY-MgCKgB/s320/20160708_212645.jpg" width="225" /></a>I passed an officer walking along the sidewalk next to the procession. He smiled and nodded at me as he passed.<br />
<br />
Some of the protesters wore "Black Lives Matter" t-shirts. Some wore head scarves. I saw a mother and daughter in sun dresses holding hands. Some held candles, others cell phones. Some people waved signs. A woman on the street started filming with her phone, and couple of the protesters came up to her, smiling and chanting. The diverse faces in the group lit up in the blue and white lights of the police cruiser.<br />
<br />
Here were people who chose this Friday night to protest police brutality instead of going out to dinner or to the movies. <br />
<br />
And here were police officers, at work, escorting people who were protesting the police. <br />
<br />
By the time I reached my car, tears streamed down my face.<br />
<br />
I was struck by the choreography of it all--the organization, the roads closed, the escorting officers, the way the crowd moved slowly, rhythmically. They way everyone involved moved together. <br />
<br />
Everyone.<br />
<br />
Together.<br />
<br />
People coming together. <br />
<br />
The police working together.<br />
<br />
The people and the police moving through the city together.<br />
<br />
I don't know what else to say.<br />
<br />
I just wish there was a lot more "together" in the world.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-39596521094129461122016-07-06T14:11:00.000-04:002016-07-06T17:46:57.586-04:00Mornings are for AdventuresI like sunrises. I like to think that I sort of "collect them." I'd rather get up early on New Year's Day to watch the first sunrise of the year than stay up late on New Year's Eve.<br />
<br />
My favorite time was as a kid, when my parents, brother, and I did just that. We brought the camp stove and mom made us breakfast at the point. Those photos are in a box in my dad's closet, but this one is from a solo trip I took to Hawaii during my freshman year in college. The friend I was staying with slept in, but I slipped out to the beach to catch the sunrise.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8oiLkr_TQ74/V30-7SqzYOI/AAAAAAAAN8o/_4eTIZinK7Iz1vvdXeCmNWmGM8MSkvwyQCKgB/s1600/20160706_131618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8oiLkr_TQ74/V30-7SqzYOI/AAAAAAAAN8o/_4eTIZinK7Iz1vvdXeCmNWmGM8MSkvwyQCKgB/s640/20160706_131618.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jan. 1, 1995 Iroquois Point, Ewa Beach, Hawaii</td></tr>
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One of my favorite things to do in Acadia National Park is watch the sunrise from Cadillac Mountain.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqpxP5YEzrk/V31AfPp8QdI/AAAAAAAAN88/lXk7n7uWPtIQhXppAY9ELBuKiioEQ1tWACLcB/s1600/IMG_1429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vqpxP5YEzrk/V31AfPp8QdI/AAAAAAAAN88/lXk7n7uWPtIQhXppAY9ELBuKiioEQ1tWACLcB/s640/IMG_1429.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">July 27, 2014, Cadillac Mountain, Acadia National Park, Maine</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I think, technically, I am a "morning person." During the school year, though, when my alarm goes off at 5:00AM, I do not <i>feel</i> like a morning person. If there are degrees of morning people, I'm like a "Seven AM" morning person.</div>
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<br /></div>
My husband is not so much into mornings. If given the opportunity, he'll sleep in til nine or later, though he almost never gets to do this. Mornings before work are painful for the poor guy.<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-03fCvKqisis/V3kypAs2mkI/AAAAAAAAN9k/3rBCTi7R-6UlKFwSAiKKOR2zbfFzs0yDgCKgB/s1600/20160703_063435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-03fCvKqisis/V3kypAs2mkI/AAAAAAAAN9k/3rBCTi7R-6UlKFwSAiKKOR2zbfFzs0yDgCKgB/s320/20160703_063435.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
But when it comes to adventures, the early morning hours are magical.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vBFQFMiuhSY/V31BdZpTWpI/AAAAAAAAN9A/SwWV2z8ZQdw3tlXpD6YpaSPoDpi6iM9PQCLcB/s1600/IMG_1498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vBFQFMiuhSY/V31BdZpTWpI/AAAAAAAAN9A/SwWV2z8ZQdw3tlXpD6YpaSPoDpi6iM9PQCLcB/s640/IMG_1498.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning sunlight = beautiful photographs</td></tr>
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While on a work day, it might take Jon forty-seven minutes to open his eyes, I've seen him pop up and head out before dawn to photograph the sunrise or hit a good fishing spot some distance away. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eG0Q0-aZKd4/V31Bx40AD2I/AAAAAAAAN9I/dxT25bAp-eM-F06xF1AgdqakyZPMVWibACLcB/s1600/IMG_20130309_064426_734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eG0Q0-aZKd4/V31Bx40AD2I/AAAAAAAAN9I/dxT25bAp-eM-F06xF1AgdqakyZPMVWibACLcB/s640/IMG_20130309_064426_734.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adventure Husband, March 9, 2013, Sunrise at Ferry Beach, Scarborough, ME (with Orson and Finn)</td></tr>
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But this isn't just about sunrises. Mornings are perfect for adventures of all kinds.<br />
<br />
When we headed out on our last road trip, we left at 4:30 AM. Jon's onto something when he says, "no matter what time we leave, it still feels like we've been driving forever by 3PM. We might as well be three or four hours further along at that point." <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tjDmSgCvvgM/V3SgpNXcImI/AAAAAAAANIA/RyjNchyairYeAHVByRLEwjTA4b5r1OsSQCKgB/s1600/20160623_080855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tjDmSgCvvgM/V3SgpNXcImI/AAAAAAAANIA/RyjNchyairYeAHVByRLEwjTA4b5r1OsSQCKgB/s640/20160623_080855.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">June 23, 2016, 8:08 AM--nearly four hours into the trip, en route to Kokomo, IN from Freeport, ME</td></tr>
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I also love beating the crowds to my favorite restaurants by getting up early, especially the teeny-tiny places. I highly recommend <a href="http://www.hotsuppa.com/">Hot Suppa</a>, which opens at 7 daily (7:30 on Sundays), and of course <a href="http://www.beckysdiner.com/">Becky's Diner</a>, which opens at 4AM. Both of these places fill up fast. Going early is best. The earliest I've been to Becky's is around 5:15 AM. Delightful!<br />
<br />
Early Sunday mornings are perfect for getting to know a city--the roads are clear, you can take your time. Jon likes to get his hair cut on Saturdays by 7AM--who wants to waste the day in line at the barber shop? <br />
<br />
And of course, Dog Beach is best (and in the summer only available) early in the morning.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3HbHZJKsBd4/V3kypN6mCWI/AAAAAAAANxc/OyNZZLwAALkzo2EAPGgL8SjjtqO3ncErwCKgB/s1600/20160703_071725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3HbHZJKsBd4/V3kypN6mCWI/AAAAAAAANxc/OyNZZLwAALkzo2EAPGgL8SjjtqO3ncErwCKgB/s640/20160703_071725.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love those long morning shadows.<br />
July 3, 2016, 7:17 AM, Higgins Beach, Scarborough, ME</td></tr>
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A day started early is a day well filled.<br />
<br />
But then, sleeping in sometimes is nice, too.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVbPexB6zkg/V3aUnTezYhI/AAAAAAAANd8/tBE2g_ESTTsztDo5-rNBBfyA03a481uoQCKgB/s1600/20160630_064728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVbPexB6zkg/V3aUnTezYhI/AAAAAAAANd8/tBE2g_ESTTsztDo5-rNBBfyA03a481uoQCKgB/s400/20160630_064728.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-36016695233167227212016-07-03T12:20:00.000-04:002016-07-03T12:20:50.148-04:00Gear Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My Adventure Husband has an insatiable desire for gear.</div>
<br />
To understand what I mean by this, you must first understand that he is an expert hobbyist. This means that whatever his current hobby, he researches it endlessly. From YouTube to blogs to articles to forums, he figures out just what makes a hobby tick. And usually, it seems--at least from my perspective--the tick is created with gear.<br />
<br />
In the many years before we met, Jon was an ice climber, white-water kayaker, and sailboat owner, just to name a few of his hobbies. Our storage room contains multiple bins of gear to prove it. Our closets are filled with the best outerwear, and one of two kayaks still rests next to the garage. He owns four bikes, and he's picking up a new one (new to him, a la Craigslist) this week. We've got boxes of helmets, a pair of motorbike boots, hip waders, and a fishing kayak (that sucker's <i>big</i>). I just pawed through a box of backpacks last week.<br />
<br />
His non-sporty hobbies include woodworking and photography, also known as $$$$$$ and $$$$$$.<br />
<br />
I'll admit--he sees the just-right bike, jacket, tool, or gadget...<br />
<br />
...and I see dollar signs.<br />
<br />
He frequently begins sentences with "I ordered x, y, or z, but don't worry, it only cost..." <br />
<br />
When I suggested some years ago that he might like photography, I was thinking two things:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
1) I am so vain, so this will totally feed my desire to be in pictures.<br />2) I have a nice Canon SLR, a cool zoomy lens, and a tripod already, so he won't need much gear.</blockquote>
HA HA HA HA HA!<br />
<br />
Ok, so my vanity has definitely been indulged, but I couldn't have been further off when I thought he wouldn't need much gear.<br />
<br />
Take a look, if you will, at this photo:<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BSW1INLLXJc/V3kr43LLMYI/AAAAAAAANwY/iFCA1YhbTPMLMfLEC6OZ2anc-oSDyul3ACLcB/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-07-03%2Bat%2B11.10.52%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BSW1INLLXJc/V3kr43LLMYI/AAAAAAAANwY/iFCA1YhbTPMLMfLEC6OZ2anc-oSDyul3ACLcB/s640/Screen%2BShot%2B2016-07-03%2Bat%2B11.10.52%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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Gear used: <i>New</i> tri-pod (mine was malfunctioning), <i>new</i> camera (waaaaaaay fancier and the reason we could get this low-light shot),<i> </i>giant reflector (new also, because we didn't have one! And it proved necessary!)<br />
<br />
Now look at this one:<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--MTzSxvUNCM/V3ksVkTH0eI/AAAAAAAANwc/h8blsejqS3krCbG-SsbLpZd5EXr48OJUQCLcB/s1600/IMG_2247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--MTzSxvUNCM/V3ksVkTH0eI/AAAAAAAANwc/h8blsejqS3krCbG-SsbLpZd5EXr48OJUQCLcB/s640/IMG_2247.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Gear used: fancy camera, (new) light stand, (new) flash with (new) small umbrella.<br />
<br />
And this one:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-01wFKPqsp-A/V3ksu8oVsfI/AAAAAAAANwk/GrJD-iLcBEk6E54SnlGDvUyBPJbGrdS4ACLcB/s1600/IMG_2879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-01wFKPqsp-A/V3ksu8oVsfI/AAAAAAAANwk/GrJD-iLcBEk6E54SnlGDvUyBPJbGrdS4ACLcB/s640/IMG_2879.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Gear used: fancy camera, (new) backdrop stand and (new) roll of white paper, assorted flashes, flash benders, maybe an umbrella or a beauty dish (new, new, new, and new), I don't know I wasn't there, but Woo do we have a lot of camera gear I haven't listed here on shelves in the basement, like a studio light, more flashes, more light stands, a really BIG umbrella, a light meter, color checkers, all manner of processing software, and so on and so forth...you get the picture (ha ha!)<br />
<br />
The truth is, I love Jon's photos. Love Love Love them. I'm pumped about our plan to convert part of the basement into a photo studio, but what started as a "hey--you can use my camera!" kind of thing, evolved into a massive gear collection and a reduction in monetary resources.<br />
<br />
Really, though, the guy is resourceful. Most of the wood-working power tools in the basement have come from Craigslist, and he does his homework to the degree that he finds sales, figures out where to get the best deal, and does exercise limits. We don't have the <i>most expensive</i> camera or studio light, but we don't have the cheapest ones either.<br />
<br />
And more to the point...I promise, there's a point to this post...I'm starting to see things his way.<br />
<br />
Since I've been attempting to be more adventurous, I've noticed something very important about gear:<br />
<br />
<b>Having the right gear increases the quality of the experience exponentially.</b><br />
<br />
I used to think a walk through the woods was a walk through the woods, regardless of attire or accouterments. And to some degree, that's probably true. But let me tell you, happiness has a heck of a lot to do with pants.<br />
<br />
Behold:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2DtYZeupCRo/V3kwCoENk2I/AAAAAAAANw0/TAWSmdhEa9UlcM4MrTSJflQgWSZxXm7SgCLcB/s1600/jeans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2DtYZeupCRo/V3kwCoENk2I/AAAAAAAANw0/TAWSmdhEa9UlcM4MrTSJflQgWSZxXm7SgCLcB/s640/jeans.jpg" width="358" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From my first biking adventure on Martha's Vineyard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EFYbQW3_98E/V3kyFvJyHFI/AAAAAAAANxE/Yk51-DGO9FAlX_M2qADQGnLjDaXw4UT9gCLcB/s1600/Jeans2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EFYbQW3_98E/V3kyFvJyHFI/AAAAAAAANxE/Yk51-DGO9FAlX_M2qADQGnLjDaXw4UT9gCLcB/s400/Jeans2.png" width="382" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From a long ago hiking adventure</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
From more recent adventures:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qSxaQQdP_yc/V3k0M5fKyAI/AAAAAAAANxo/j_YjB3tKeJELDNM96EcUIyv8Evs0W96dQCLcB/s1600/BikeGear.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="374" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qSxaQQdP_yc/V3k0M5fKyAI/AAAAAAAANxo/j_YjB3tKeJELDNM96EcUIyv8Evs0W96dQCLcB/s640/BikeGear.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mTK2ci8rSi4/V3k0N-OM5XI/AAAAAAAANxs/TxUubtPCH-AxQHPFbBpTM2sKYJbSmLS6QCLcB/s1600/HikingGear.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mTK2ci8rSi4/V3k0N-OM5XI/AAAAAAAANxs/TxUubtPCH-AxQHPFbBpTM2sKYJbSmLS6QCLcB/s640/HikingGear.png" width="540" /></a></div>
<br />
Jon is probably tired of hearing me say over and over again, "I just <i>love</i> my new pants."<br />
<br />
I did not know pants could change my life. The just-right pants are light-weight, dry quickly, have pockets exactly where I need them, and are much cooler than jeans (and less likely to chafe). Plus, when I get home, I can change into my jeans, which are now not caked with adventure dirt and sweat.<br />
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As for the Adventure Bag, it's <a href="http://www.llbean.com/llb/shop/86674?feat=backpack-CL1&page=stowaway-day-pack">this one</a> from LL Bean. It's super light, can fold up into a tiny self-contained pocket, and it nicely holds water, sun screen, another layer, etc. etc. Jon has one in orange. <br />
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We've decided to have these Adventure Bags ready to go at a moment's notice. So they've got the basic supplies (those listed above plus a pocket tool, a little first aid kit, tissues or a handkerchief, a hat, and whatever Kevin might need on a hike, like his portable water bowl and a leash).<br />
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Having the right gear, and having it handy, is really starting to change the way I see adventuring. If I've got what I need to be comfortable, and the basic gear is grab-and-go, what excuses remain?<br />
<br />
These things have seriously upped my Oomph.<br />
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Kevin has an adventure bag, too.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DZLPf5UXRZ0/V3kypGBNlVI/AAAAAAAANxc/PL_J8pyyBxwqlrvJaSscszbfoYnIDDABQCKgB/s1600/20160703_063529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DZLPf5UXRZ0/V3kypGBNlVI/AAAAAAAANxc/PL_J8pyyBxwqlrvJaSscszbfoYnIDDABQCKgB/s640/20160703_063529.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kevin's Adventure bag, left, has toys, treats, treat pouch, poop bags, leash, and water bowl and is always by the door within easy reach.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And here's his handy, collapsible bowl:<div>
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<br />While I may grumble about price tags, I've finally come around to seeing the benefit of spending a little more on the Just-Right gear to really enhance Adventuring. <br />
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But gosh I hope Jon doesn't read this, or who knows what we'll be ordering next!<br />
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Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-27074641529921737842016-07-01T12:17:00.000-04:002016-07-01T12:17:15.346-04:00When Opportunity Knocks...On our long drive home from Indiana last week, I received a text from a friend:<br />
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<span class="_5yl5">Are you back in Maine? The offer still stands if you can come to Squirrel Island tomorrow, Thursday?? We'd love to have you!</span></div>
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<span class="_5yl5">Husbands, dogs, children welcome, too!</span></div>
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<br />
My immediate response should have been "HECK YES," but here's a thing about me--I'm not great at "yes." <br />
<br />
Admittedly, this was an easy adventure--it involved throwing some shorts and t-shirts into a backpack, taking a ferry, and then walking and lounging on a beautiful island off Boothbay. <br />
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Nothing to fear in that offer, I tell you. Nothing!<br />
<br />
But I was tired. It had been a long weekend with two long road trips. I spend my life making plans--for the classes I teach, for my daughter's activities, for what we might eat for dinner on any given night--and sometimes when it's time to make plans just for me, I'm burnt out!<br />
<br />
It was going to take at least a little bit of Oomph to get my act together and go.<br />
<br />
But I'm not completely stupid.<br />
<br />
Of course I said "yes!"<br />
<br />
Jon couldn't come--he had to go back to work--but Kevin and I packed our bags and set our plan in motion. In true me-fashion, I was nervous about taking Kevin by myself, but it was too good of an opportunity for him to miss, too.<br />
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Turns out, Squirrel Island is magical.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This fairy house was constructed by a dentist. <br />There are real teeth on the shelf in the front yard.<br /></td></tr>
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Adventures like these nearly always work out perfectly. I don't know why it takes so much of my energy to get up and go to them. I suppose it's not knowing what to expect, and getting a case of the what-ifs, but seriously: friends + Maine Islands in the Summer = Perfection. This is a pretty obvious equation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Adventure Dog<br />He doesn't even mind swimming in the seaweed.</td></tr>
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Thanks, Joan, to you and your wonderful family for hosting Kevin and me! We had a truly splendid visit.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-67908743106349992722016-06-30T01:09:00.000-04:002016-06-30T01:09:43.295-04:00Adventure Family Road TripI grew up taking road trips with my family. My parents and I crossed the country twice--once from Ohio to California, and later from California to upstate New York. There were also countless long car rides to visit grandparents, sometimes four hours away, sometimes eight, depending on where we lived.<br />
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And now, my most frequent road trip, is to visit my dad in Kokomo, Indiana. And that's what we did just last week.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At an Ohio Rest Stop:<br />A Chance for Everyone to Get Their Wiggles Out</td></tr>
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It's roughly a seventeen hour drive, so we do it in two days (except that one time when I wanted more than anything to get to my Mom--Jon drove us late into the night, hopped up on Monster Energy Drinks. I couldn't keep my eyes open).<br />
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My family has always been good at road trips. My mother packed great snacks, and we brought books and music players (used to be a walkman that auto-reversed! and now, iPods all around). We sang to the radio. We cracked jokes. We looked at the scenery. We counted cows. This past trip we started playing a license plate game.<br />
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I like road trips, though I'm not as good at them as I once was, primarily because I get sleepy (due, no doubt, to a severe lack of sleep leading up to them). <br />
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I loved introducing Abby to my favorite rest stop from my childhood, the Angola Service Area in New York on I-90.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X8fDWrJtAhg/V3SlKgP6UAI/AAAAAAAANI0/IpOSt_FG0a0-V4vRU-p1AeYJnU7WAzb3QCLcB/s1600/348s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X8fDWrJtAhg/V3SlKgP6UAI/AAAAAAAANI0/IpOSt_FG0a0-V4vRU-p1AeYJnU7WAzb3QCLcB/s400/348s.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Truth be told, this rest stop is kind of dumpy, but the bridge is still cool.</td></tr>
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I got to teach Abby that if you stop mid-bridge and wave at the tractor trailer trucks, they sometimes honk at you.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It totally still works.</td></tr>
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And Jon introduced us to DiBella's in Rochester. Abby is now an avid fan.<br />
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Another new tradition for our little Adventure Family is staying at Red Roof Inns, because they always allow dogs and never charge extra for it. Kevin approves.<br />
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I'm fortunate that Abby is great traveler and has been since she was a baby. She's awesome on airplanes and on long car rides. And Adventure Dog Kevin is an incredible car dog. We spent most of the ride to Indiana saying over and over and over again that there was simply too much cute in the back seat and we had to look away.<br />
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I can't say that every single minute of the seventeen hour trip is awesome. We're a family, so we still squawk at each other and get into arguments over dumb stuff like where to have dinner, but on the whole, I'd give us high marks for our road trip skills. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise in Eastern New York, Near Albany</td></tr>
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Road trips are full of gems like this sunrise. And the end result is worth it. A visit with Grandpa is guaranteed to be a good one.<br />
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Still, I don't need to get back in the car again anytime soon.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-67850093991382638472016-06-25T17:10:00.000-04:002016-06-25T17:10:03.456-04:00A Party for MomToday my family hosted a party. We could not have had a better day or a better location.<br />
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This is my dad's backyard. That's his hangar and his airplane (and my Kevin). <br />
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The party is for my Mom. My mom's favorite season was summer, her favorite activity, hosting friends and family on her screened-in porch attached to the hangar.<br />
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My mother instinctively knew how to 'do' hospitality. She always found a chair for any visitor, offered a cold beverage, had snacks at the ready. She and my dad worked hard to make their yard lovely and welcoming. <br />
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When Mom died this past February, we had a small gathering, but we promised a real mom-party come summer. Today was the day.<br />
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We hosted more than fifty people for lunch.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kevin: denied a spot in the buffet line</td></tr>
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As we scurried around today, setting up tables, organizing the buffet, making sure needs were met, I kept thinking, "What would Mom do right now?" I had no shortage of answers to the question, as I passed cold water to guests, refilled the bins of plasticware, checked in with Dad, and tried to make everyone feel welcome.<br />
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I think everyone had a grand time. When guests said, "Your mom would love this," we were pleased.<br />
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Still, it would have been better with Mom in charge. No question about that.<br />
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-67662753962722782002016-06-23T22:18:00.000-04:002016-06-23T22:19:18.015-04:00A Family Adventure in the Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Adventure Daughter came late to bike riding. Oh, she got her first wee bike with training wheels at age six, (after two awesome tricycles in her earlier years) but she didn't clock many miles on it. <br />
<br />
I can give you some lousy excuses for why she never learned (unpaved driveway was a tough place to practice; we lived on a busy road at the time), but those don't really explain why my kiddo made it to age nine unable to ride a bike.<br />
<br />
She never learned because neither I nor my husband were riding bikes when it was time for her to learn. We had our own slew of excuses and doubts, but the long and the short of it was that if we didn't ride, neither would she.<br />
<br />
A nine-year-old needs to know how to bike ride. We had done the poor kid a tremendous disservice.<br />
<br />
So this year for her birthday, Abby got <a href="http://www.llbean.com/llb/shop/89484?page=ridge-runner-bike-24in-kids?feat=97-119-5480-cprrtop">a new bike</a>. This gift was met with equal parts elation and trepidation. She wanted so much to hop on and go, but feared the learning process. I don't know about your children (if you've got 'em or maybe if you were one once), but my child occasionally expresses fear with phrases like, "I don't <i>want</i> to learn this," or "I don't <i>need </i>to know this." It wasn't that she couldn't learn. No. She could absolutely learn, but she just didn't feel like it. Go ahead and take that bike right back to the store, why don't you?<br />
<br />
It's totally just kids who face fears with denial, right?<br />
<br />
We did not return the bike to the store. Now that I had a bike and my husband had pulled his bikes out of storage, we had visions of grand family biking adventures (well, Adventure Husband had grand visions. I had nice, mild-mannered visions.) No more excuses.<br />
<br />
We were out on the driveway practicing one afternoon, and both Abby's and my frustration levels were nearing nuclear. I had recently read a great blog post about needing to keep my own volume lower than my kiddo's (sounded great while sipping tea and reading an interesting article; induced the shakes when trying to practice it in my front yard. I so wish I could find this post again right now but I can't.). Finally, when she would neither try pedaling in any serious way while I held her upright nor would she quit, I had to walk away from her. <br />
<br />
She muttered some things I am probably better off for not having heard clearly, stomped on her pedals, and proceeded to zip down the driveway without falling over.<br />
<br />
I will never forget her look of sheer surprise at her success when she realized what she was doing. She immediately looked at me, eyes wide and mouth rounded in a huge O! When she stopped (a few seconds later), she hopped off the bike, ran to me with her arms spread wide, and screamed "I did it! I did it!" ALL of her anger and frustration evaporated. She was no longer pissed at me or at herself or at the world in general.<br />
<br />
What are the lessons in this?<br />
<br />
All that psycho-babble about facing our fears head on and recognizing our denial for what it is? Yeah, pretty much spot on.<br />
<br />
I had to let her go, she had to let herself go, and then BOOM. Bike rider.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love when Google Photos makes panoramas for me, <br />
especially when the same person shows up in them several times.</td></tr>
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No longer afraid to try, Abby practiced every day, and last weekend she had a real reward for her efforts.<br />
<br />
We experienced our first mild-mannered biking adventure: this Adventure Family logged five miles on the bike path in Brunswick. It did not matter that we were passed by a jogger when going "up hill" (total elevation gain on the entire path: 34 ft.). What mattered was that Abby's efforts paid off, and we had what will go down in the history books as one of our best family outings <i>ever</i>. No fussing. No arguing. No sighs or eye-rolling. Just accomplishment.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All smiles!</td></tr>
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Abby found her Oomph and continues to inspire me to find mine.Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1077560378082818545.post-75679590186234881472016-06-20T08:48:00.002-04:002016-06-20T08:48:30.102-04:00No Mom ManualI can't believe I'm a grown-up.<br />
<br />
This is a serious statement. I mean, I'm 40. I have a husband, a daughter, a house, an ex-husband. I have a car, a job, a credit card, a dehumidifier. Someone lets me spend my workdays shaping the future of America. I just can't believe that. Who on earth would trust me with all of this?<br />
<br />
Sometimes I feel like the kid in <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0094737/">Big</a></i> who gets big but is still a kid.<br />
<br />
This feels especially true when I don't know what to do with Abby. <br />
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I mean, I have to make sure she eats, for one. And on top of that, it can't just be donuts and M&Ms and bread and ice cream and pepperoni. But it would be so easy if it could be those things. It's probably those things more often than it should be.<br />
<br />
I have to make sure she goes outside and plays and doesn't spend her whole day in front of the TV or the iPad or YouTube.<br />
<br />
When she has homework, I have to see to it that she does it. And usually its math. I'm an English teacher, so...yeah. And I have to make it sound like I think math is great! Important! Fun! Weeee! (Ok, I know it <i>is</i> great and important. But fun?)<br />
<br />
I have to make sure she showers and changes her underwear and brushes her teeth. Sometimes we kind of forget about these things.<br />
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I have to help her be kind to others and not yell and keep her eye-rolling in check. I'm not always good at these things myself, an yet I'm the one in charge! Woo!<br />
<br />
I have to keep my temper when she loses hers.<br />
<br />
I have to teach her to be a strong, independent woman.<br />
<br />
I have to tell her when someone dies.<br />
<br />
The first time I had to do this, Abby was just four or so. My grandmother--Granny--passed away. Granny and Abby met a couple of times, but really only when Abby was a baby. Granny lived primarily in Abby's imagination, based on photos from our visits. <br />
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I remember sitting at the kitchen table with Abby when I told her. She listened, saw my own tears, and then put her head down on her arms on the table. I didn't expect that. I didn't know what to do with that. I was ready to hug. But then...we just changed the subject. <br />
<br />
The next loss was my husband's dog, Orson. <br />
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Abby was seven and visiting my parents in Indiana. I didn't even really get to tell her, as she read a text over my mother's shoulder. My mom had to handle that one. Abby wrote Orson a note and put it under her pillow and it was gone in the morning. I don't know how I feel about that. I was so far away, so ill-equipped to help.<br />
<br />
And then last winter hit, with a shit storm of loss that I wasn't ready for, and all the while I had to be the grown-up.<br />
<br />
She lost her hamster.<br />
She lost her cat.<br />
She lost her grandmother.<br />
She lost her great grandmother.<br />
She lost two beloved chickens.<br />
When her uncle's dog died suddenly, I simply could not tell her.<br />
<br />
I spend a part of each day now thinking about the people and pets we love so much, willing them to not die. This has done wonders for my already anxiety-ridden mindset.<br />
<br />
We had a funeral for the hamster. Abby orchestrated it--with a photo of Polka, some flickering candles, a eulogy, and a burial. I stood amazed at my daughter's strength. But she slept in my bedroom that night--she couldn't be alone in her room without Polka.<br />
<br />
We had a final evening with Tucker the cat, who spent part of his night in Abby's bed, then part in mine, and part with his sister, our other cat Henrietta. Abby said goodbye to him for the last time and then got on the school bus. <i>She got on the school bus knowing that she wouldn't see Tucker again.</i> How did she do that? I took the day off, cradled his head in his last moments. I cried gallons of tears, though I couldn't always tell which tears were for me and which were for my little girl. This has been the case more often than not lately.<br />
<br />
We spent the last week of my mother's life with her. She was so heavily medicated that she just slept. Abby flitted in and out of her room, where someone was always by Nana's side. She'd talk to Nana, tell her she loved her. She rarely cried in front of anyone except me. All through the year of my mother's illness, I could think of little else besides how devastated my daughter would be. My pain was more than doubled as I ached for Abby's future without her Nana--how would I tell her? How would she go on? Once again I was bewildered by my eight-year-old's strength. <br />
<br />
But Abby said to me recently, "Our family is cursed." <br />
<br />
"Of course it's not," I told her, but I didn't totally believe myself. She doesn't really believe me either. After all, I told her that Tucker (the cat) would be ok. I told her Nana, my mother, would be ok. <br />
<br />
But they weren't.<br />
<br />
I didn't pull her out of school to attend Grammie's funeral. She had missed so much school already. Should I have? <br />
<br />
I put her on the bus on the day we lost Tucker. Should I have?<br />
<br />
I couldn't tell her about her uncle's dog. The words dried up every time I tried. But should I have?<br />
<br />
My greatest fear out of all the many I harbor, day in and day out, is that I will screw up my kid. I'm responsible for turning her into a well-adjusted adult who will maybe one day get married, maybe have kids, own a home, buy a dehumidifier. Raising her to be kind, compassionate, smart, strong, and independent--and ok with the world of vegetables--is so, so, so, so hard.<br />
<br />
I tell her I've got a secret handbook for moms. I use it to justify all the times I piss her off by refusing to let her have gum for breakfast or tie bells to the cat. But of course there is no manual. I have no idea what I'm doing. I make it all up as I go along. <br />
<br />
Most days I think she's turning out all right. And my credit card is paid off each month. And I got my contract to teach again next year. And I'm making my car payments on time. I get along with my ex and the dehumidifier is still running. My husband and I are trying to set a positive example about what loving relationships look like. And she does want hugs from me from time to time. So maybe, just maybe, I'm doing ok.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abby and Tucker</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abby with Grammie and her father</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nana and Abby</td></tr>
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<br />Susanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13245882165811719527noreply@blogger.com1