The Burrow

Since their lives aren't busy enough with new jobs and schoolwork and planning a wedding, SIR and Little Cuter have added house hunting into the mix.  The reason is obvious - they've outgrown their space. It's not Thomas-the-Wonder-Granddog's need for a fenced yard in which to romp which is prompting their move.  It's not an overwhelming desire to ride the train into the city every morning that is fueling their passion.  It's not suburban shopping malls or fantastic schools or reducing their monthly outlay while building for their future.... no, the real reason they are moving is because there's no more room in their apartment for their books. The floor to ceiling shelving has been double stacked for a long time.  On my last visit, the third row was beginning to overflow.  Tomes were stacked hither and yon and I watched Little Cuter's sadly shaking head, slowly turning, side to side, as she offered me volumes to take home and refused...

I helped out at Amphi Middle School last week.  An assistant principal wanted me to record a piece of the school's application to become a No Excuses University , a school consortium based on the tenet that every child has the right to be prepared to attend college.  I talked about GRIN 's involvement in Colleges in Classrooms and the public /private partnership which brought pilates to the AMS dance room twice a week and the connection we made with the math department at Cornell, my alma mater.  The administration believes, as Damien Lopez, NEU's founder, puts it, that it is t he responsibility of adults in the school to develop exceptional systems that make that dream a reality. I am honored to shoulder some of that responsibility.  It never occurred to me not to be.... that is, until I heard Rick Santorum tell me that my efforts, my basic beliefs, my core values are mere snobbery. http://tinyurl.com/7e9j8sd I just don't get it at all, and mayb...

I spent Sunday on the mountain.  After 14 months of wondering if or when today I did it . It was the best birthday present Amster and the kids could deliver. It wasn't a very long hike; a one mile loop at the top of a long steep sandy incline. My poles and I did just fine, thank you. We did just fine, indeed. It was beautiful. A soft breeze and temperatures in the 70's (no, I don't know why you aren't living here) made for a picture perfect afternoon. The parking lot provided a giant stick that The Littles recognized as bearing an uncanny resemblance to a Winchester rifle.  They annihilated bad guys while Amster and I locked cars and herded them to the restrooms for a prophylactic pee...just in case. The grasses were rustling and the mountains were hovering and I was glowing. This really does feed my soul. I can feel the earth growing and the tectonic plates shifting when I see this. The flowers were blooming. The kids were...

I am actually looking forward to watching an NBA game this evening.  I'm not committing to the whole four quarters, which is how I can sit and watch the sun sink behind my house, turning the mountains and the trees bright yellow, while the NY Knicks and the Miami heat are battling on ESPN.. The first quarter of an NBA game is lackadaisical at best, which touches on my reluctance to invest more than an hour of my time.  Watching over-paid men give almost-but-not-quite-all to an endeavor makes me nutty. Coupled with officiating that is baffling, at best, the NBA is not at the top of my sports-viewing agenda. Tobias Moskowitz, University of Chicago Booth Graduate School of Business professor and author of Scorecasting , reveal(s) the hidden forces that shape how basketball.....games are played, won and lost.  I love it when research proves that my ranting and raving has a factual basis.  According to Moskowitz, and his co-author, L. Jon Wertheim, refs ca...

buick.com JannyLou showed up in my driveway at 8am this morning, behind the wheel of her brand new Buick.  It's a 7-passenger vehicle, built for those long road trips they planned to take in the RV they just sold.  The RV was a good idea until things started to break; no one needs to spend vacation time looking for a plumber for your car.  So Fast Eddie sold it last week and, on a roll, traded in the Honda CR-V for the Enclave.  It has that great new car smell, and I can easily enter and exit the second row of seats.  JannyLou is delighted.  Another family friend, reeling from a year of crises involving his wife, recently filled his garage with a Hummer.  Massive, tires almost as big as I am, this is a monster truck.  In an accident, there's no doubt who will emerge the victor.  Two men who love their wives.  Two men with some disposable income.  Two men whose wives had faced disease and despair last year. Two men doing what...

I am stasrting a tradition in The Burrow.  From now until I stop writing, I will celebrate Washington's Birthday on its proper date, and I will explicate the reasons by re-running this post.  So, welcome to the 2nd Annual George Wasn't Born on President's Day post.  Enjoy! 280 years ago today Mary Ball Washington gave birth to a boy child. He went on to become a surveyor, a land owner, a distiller and, oh yes, the first President of the United States of America. Unlike many of the stories surrounding this man (think cherry trees and coins across the Potomac and standing up in an open boat as it crossed the Delaware) this is an indisputable fact. Mary was not in labor on the third Monday of February. She produced her child on a specific day - the 22nd day of February. His birthday didn't move around with the vagaries of the federal holiday calendar. Nancy Hanks Lincoln met her second son, Abraham, 202 years ago on February 12. Like Mrs. Washington be...

I'm slowing down as things are speeding up. I think it's self-preservation. Traveling at 50 mph in a 45 mph zone this morning, The Schnozz and I were buffeted by the windstorm created as the young man with open windows, a cigarette, and jacked-up-shock-absorbers blew past us. His radio made only a scar on the soundwaves as he sped by, followed by 3 or 4 other people who just had to get to the next red light more quickly than I did. I used to be one of those people. If an open space appeared in the other lane, I grabbed it. Lately, I seem to have lost the urge to rush. I'm wondering why. Recovering, lying on Douglas, watching the sun cross the horizon, may have had something to do with slowing my internal clock. The passage of time was marked by the ingestion of pills. I undertook no activities beyond writing Thank You notes. There was no reason to hurry through anything, I really had nothing to do but heal, and there was no timetable for that. ...

My lovely post about G'ma's birthday has been devoured by the maw of the interweb, I will recreate it and post it on the morrow.  For now, here's an oldie but goodie on the same topic. Decisions "And you, Senora? A margarita?" A fairly innocuous question in a Mexican restaurant at dinner time. But when G'ma looks at me and says "Do I want a margarita?" all kinds of hell breaks loose inside my head. NO - you are on 8 different medications all of which caution against alcohol. I don't want to feel responsible for your impaired functioning if you fall tonight. Falling is not a good thing when you're 86 years old, as you well know. But half a margarita? With dinner? Once every 6 months? Really, how much damage could that do? I looked at the margarita glass. It was huge. "I'm driving. Let's share one." The waitress left, but the question stuck around. Around and around and around. It wasn't quite ...

Nine-fingered typing is only marginally better than trying to operate a new phs-camera without a right index finger.  Yesterday's post was filled with mis-stricken letters, the responsibility for which rests solely on my four-digit-ed larboard side. Worse, my fingers guide my brain here in The Burrow; when one is stuttering the other follows in lock-step. Hence, a garden post.  We haven't had one in a while, I know.  I am moving forward on an upward trajectory, even if I do have to hire someone to do the heavy lifting and bending and digging.  I'll admire the results as I tend to that which I can, and I'll be grateful for it each and every day. Smarmy?  Perhaps.  It's also very very real to me.  The plants speak to me of hopefulness and renewal and some kind of master plan which comforts me in the inevitability of it all.  Plus, I like to laugh at myself and the promises I've made to myself in seasons past.  For example, I remember say...

I saw sleet in Tucson yesterday at lunchtime.  Middle-schoolers wearing shorts were as surprised as I was. ***** Apparently, there was too little bone for even the smallest of small pins and my finger surgery really didn't solve my problem.  My finger might be straighter, it probably will hurt less, but as to creating a permanently connected joint....... that remains to be seen. On top of all that bad news, I waited 45 minutes to be seen.  Sometimes the fact that I've been shot turns out to be a good thing; it certainly put this event in perspective. ***** Today, my  Ulysses teacher took a passionate piece of the text and turned it into burnt toast.  Drier than dry, defining the terms but not touching the heat, I listened to him read aloud as my eyes fell on one of my margin notes, a quote from the Cornell professor with whom I studied the text in 2001. " Is this not a great book!?!?" appears beside that same paragraph. A good teacher makes all the diff...

They do Valentines Day up right at Amphi Middle School. GRIN  was there to make valentines. $30 worth of supplies covered tables in the corner of the cafeteria. And the kids loved it. The 6th grade girls were the first visitors. They made cards for favorite teachers. They made cards for their BFF's The boys were a harder sell.... but once his friend finished, well...   The grown up girls made them. The ultra-cool girls made them. Who I was and why I was there came up a time or two. It was Nim's first day at AMS. He arrived from Nepal over the weekend. His translator has been here a lot longer  and was in a hurry to get to lunch. But Nim held his ground. Please note Nim and Kathleen fist-bumping over his very first ever in his whole life what in the world is this holiday valentine. His friend printed the message in English. Welcome to America, Nim <3 Liz gave us a valentine right back. It was our ple...