for what it's worth

I wrote my first report in 4th grade about my grandfather and I still have it.
I spent so much of the sunny weather of my childhood riding my bike to his and gram's, playing cards and working on his puzzles and talking to him about anything and everything that I was interested in. He was a teacher in the best sense. He knew something about everything, or at least I thought he did and he wanted to know what I found interesting and what I thought and who I was.

Pulmonary fibrosis was something that I never wanted to know everything about, neither was macular degeneration. It was amazing to watch someone in his 80s learn new technologies and adapt to his new limitations, but it was and still is heartbreaking to watch one of the best men you'll ever know get robbed of all he loved and then be robbed of him.

Truth is, every time I finish an article or find a new theory that may serve my framework for my proposal, I get just a little sad knowing that the person in my world who would've most eaten it up and wanted to talk to me about it for hours isn't here. Maybe "just a little sad" is a gross misrepresentation... I thought about quitting. I figured there was little point in pursuing something he was never going to see and something that no one else around me got just wasn't worth it. That's the problem with losing someone who made up the loudest and truest faction of your cheering section: you have to dig deep and figure out just what it's all worth on your own.

I remember when I got my hood for my M.S. He was too sick to come and he was the first person I wanted to show the hood to. He was so proud. He asked me a million questions on it and on what was coming next.

I spent so much of my first semester for this degree reading and working and trying to figure out what was going on and I constantly felt guilty at how little time I got to spend with him.

What do you do when the only person who never second guessed you is gone? How do you function when you miss someone all the time?

This week has been an eternity, waiting for grades to post, trying to play catch up at work and attempting to plan for the next bench mark... And in it all, I keep wondering what he would be saying right now. He wouldn't be worried about how I'd done. He would've had a beer with me somewhere. The natural atrophy of memory is both a blessing and a curse. His words have become wooden and misshapen, his gestures are my interpretation of them four years on and only the light in his eternally wonder filled eyes remains.

I think I look for some aspect of his eyes in every new face. The clear blue, nearing gray in some lights. The curiosity and wonder. The soft spot for his grandkids and the liquid laughter that radiated from them when he was happy. And I think I'm waiting for someone who is just as in love with knowing about all that the people he loves love.

Last Class

I'm writing this from school- in my final class of my program.

I handed in my last paper last night and gave my final presentation this morning.

All I have left is sitting through two more presentations, writing a grade justification for this course and keeping my fingers crossed for grades to post by next weekend.

I'm in love with the idea of being done with coursework, but I'm sort of sad today. I can't help but think about who's not around to see me hit this milestone; the people who helped me get here, but won't get to celebrate this with me. I'm not going to bother listing the regrets or shortfalls that I have--it does no good to pine. What I'm going to do is be thankful for the amazing stuff: the incredible people and experiences I've had and move forward, filled with excitement about my two pilot studies, paper edits, potential third pilot project, portfolio and starting the dissertation work.

Is it weird to be excited about having a crap load of work to do?

Either way, this afternoon will bring some celebration, Seems is done with coursework too(!) and tomorrow will bring three cakes: strawberry cheesecake, cassata or some sort of ricotta pie and something fruity that I haven't decided on yet--I have faculty that I need to apologize to (I've been cranky) and thank (they've put up with the crankiness for 3 and a half years).

Even more important, tomorrow will bring Mother's Day!

Happy First Mother's Day, Miss! Em is incredible, job well done!

Happy Mother's Day to Nana, Gram, all the Aunts and all of my buddies and colleagues with ankle biters.

And especially,

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MOM!

You are the best chicken soup maker, singer, garden planner, dad fashionista, organizer, financial planner, and life saver.

I love you!

from the bowels of the library

It's about 7:30 on Wednesday night, I just had my second to last class ever! Woo!

I'm working on the last surprise paper and then have some quick work to do refining/ adding research base to my envisionment for how education should be... and then I've got that last presentation to tighten up and do on Saturday and DONE! Yay!

I went to the Dr.'s this am... super miserable- I'm apparently on week three of the flu. She prescribed gross cough stuff, gross nasal congestion stuff and gatorade- which is about a fraction of a step up from chocolate chips in my mind.

Second piece of not so fun news- Dr. said no running for a few more weeks, but I'm calling into PT this week and going to do whatever I want.

Being in the bowels of the library and seeing all of the "festive" undergrads--yes, that's a replacement f word, I can't help but wonder: 1, why are they so loud? 2, why are they so scrubby? and 3, why do they wear athletic clothing with timberland boots? Maybe it's just getting old... We used to be loud, but we were hilarious. I used to wear pjs everywhere- I just showered and still put on jewelry. These kids smell.

I've also been informed that I have no sense of humor anymore, which is sad, since I love to laugh.

Maybe it's just that I've devolved from having a sense of humor about certain things... I think that there are things that should be off limits and I think that there are some lines that shouldn't be crossed. I don't believe in hierarchies, but I believe in self-organizing systems and not in shoe-horning. I believe in valuing strengths, celebrating accomplishments and building people up and I'm sick of the comparisons of apples to oranges and non-constructivist garbage infiltrating my life. There is ball busting and then there is viciousness and vitriol. I was talking about this today with my grad school bff... maybe it's just because of what I do concurrently and who I am that there're different standards I get held to and a different threshold of backstabbing that I "enjoy"... I think it's ironic how we teach and preach to kids about how they should act professionally and personally, but then we don't.

To end on a happy note, Seems and I will be attending the tulip festival on Saturday and then celebrating the end of course work and the kids, Cs and I will be celebrating my favorite holiday tomorrow: Cinco de Mayo aka., Mexico dodging a linguistic nightmare day...

And I will finish my papers, let go of the nonsense, and celebrate on my back porch, surrounded by everything that I love.
Cheers to us and to the end of an era!

Week 5 & 6: May 2, 2011: Cannoli Cake

I am still under the weather, but I'm rallying.
Besides work and school, this was my view for most of the past week:

 Two things that have been making me smile:

 My amazing Easter egg front door wreath.

The little doll face dressed for high tea in honor of the royal wedding.

I've got doctors' appointments tomorrow about the hacking cough that's hanging about and the back/ running thing, so I'll keep you posted.

I'm working on my penultimate paper right now, taking a break to do a little posting and I'm so excited I can hardly sit still.  Saturday is my last class.  By this time Saturday evening (given I pass everything), I will officially be done with my doctoral coursework and working on my portfolio and proposal!  It's so close I can almost taste it.

I wasn't up to baking last week, but on a field trip one of the faculty members I rarely see mentioned how her favorite cake is Cannoli Cake. She has a funny story about how her mother-in-law was supposed to bring cannoli cake for her wedding, but came bearing Mexican Spice cake. I love Cannoli cake, and Mexican Spice cake and Rum cake for that matter and I haven't made any of them yet... cue French or evil scientist sounding laughter.

I googled Cannoli Cake and came across this recipe from  http://www.sargento.com/recipes/64/cannoli-cake/  It looked easy and tasty, so I made it.  Note, I did one version with the part skim ricotta and another with the whole milk.

I know that I complain about chocolate chips in things... I keep that complaint with this- there needs to be a better way, the texture of the ricotta and whipped cream mixture is heavenly, and then, you have to chew the chocolate chips-- just icky.



The cake was a bit sketchy. No leaveners, just the beaten eggs. The first cake came out a bit flat and there was no way I was getting four layers out of it.

The batter and frosting were so super easy, but the website does recommend you frost within six hours of eating.

Since I'm not a morning person, I was frosting and putting strawberries on the cake in the faculty room with the pregnant biology teacher urging me, "hurry up, woman", since she had a first block class.
She took this pic of me frosting:

Unfortunately, the teacher who'd inspired the recipe search didn't get down to the faculty room in time- so, I made half a batch of the cake mix into half a dozen cupcakes and made her cannoli cupcakes.  I figured out why the first cake was so flat- I didn't beat the eggs and sugar long enough- this batch came out fluffier. The intention was to pipe the ricotta filling into the cupcakes using a pastry bag, but I completely forgot that mini chocolate chips like to cluster and clog up the bag. Chocolate chips really are so evil. I wound up frosting them with the ricotta and then topping them with the whipped cream frosting.

Over all reactions were very good. I'm definitely going to try this one again.

Right now, I'm loving spring. I fell asleep reading in the back yard on Saturday and got a little fried. I got the lawn mower out on Sunday and I love seeing last year's bulbs popping up all over the place.



I think that we all have sacred places, places where the cosmos just come in line. They're like a good piece of art, or a favorite song, or that perfect dessert, they evoke that aesthetic experience, the goose bumps, the tingles or the deep sigh of leaning back into a comfortable chair, kicking the feet up and just enjoying.

Mine is my back porch after doing yard work with a beverage in hand. Listening to the birds, or the neighbors entertaining. Watching the breeze dancing in the tree branches. Smelling spring, cut grass and barbecue. Marveling at the miracles happening right in my own garden.

Where is yours?