virginia is for wisconsinites

The high today was 58. It is sunny and lovely; Rhonda, her nephew, and brother-in-law are playing football in the backyard as I sit in a sunny spot by a window. I write this for my future (returned-to-wisconsin) self. May I remember this feeling when we hit that inevitable week in January when the temperature does not reach zero.

holidays

Today was Christmas number four (or was it five?) with Rhonda's family in Virginia. Emily and Jason are incredible kids, and the family as a whole have been very kind and welcoming. This morning as we opened presents, Jason (who is four) was very concerned and asked "do we have presents to give to Amy too?" Right now we are playing "Littlest Pet Shop" and getting ready for a big meal.

Vay-kay

We are headed to the East Coast for several weeks. Going to see family and friends from Virginia to New York and many places in between. I will try to post when access allows.

Tired

It has been a long week. Last Tuesday I had my last (in a series) of incidents with a mentally unwell student whose favorite pastime is ranting against the establishment and, in the last instance, ranting against me and how I am a really really shitty teacher because I didn't teach her how to do proper citation technique for sociology papers.

I can't say too much about the situation or the student, but it was a definite low point in a semester that went -- in all other ways -- very well. But somehow I am letting this last bit of drama really get me down. It is the combination of endless hours of grading, pms, long to-do lists, and getting ready to leave town for several weeks. I feel tired and miserable. And now, I feel like a bad teacher.

And before anyone comments "oh, you are not a bad teacher Amy..." I should say that -- at the deep logical core of my self -- I know that I am not. But I know that it is a very emotionally difficult thing to have a student lambaste you in front of your entire class, and even more trying to process the consequences when simultaneously trying to grade four classes and complete your first-year retention portfolio. My mind is reeling, and I am one irritable chiquita. (poor, poor rhonda.)

All I really want is to curl up with a cup of tea, a good book, and spend a day not playing teacher/social worker/den mamma to the world!

santa bling

don't wanna

i have papers to grade and classes to plan. it's the last week of the semester and i'm tired. pooped.
xausted (sounds like ZAW-sted).
Rhonda expresses it perfectly when she says:
dontwanna dontwanna dontwanna!

0º

Z-E-R-O.

This was the temperature when I went to school this morning at 7:30am.

I drove instead of walking.

Does this make me a bad person? (It is only 1/2 mile.)

More snow predicted for tonight.

They are saying this is abnormally cold even for Northern Wisconsin.

10 minutes ago...

...& 20 minutes ago...

beauty

This morning we visited a neighborhood woman who keeps chickens. When she found out we are interested in having some chickens, she generously invited us over to see her operation (she has about thirty chickens of different varieties and six guinea fowl). we got to see how she built their coop, and witness the very cool free-range bird haven she's got going. The best part was being generously gifted with a dozen eggs. I know from experience that fresh eggs taste different than store bought. But these eggs--in their variety and color--are the most beautiful eggs I have ever come across. I spent a while photographing them this afternoon:

It is snowing, snowing, snowing right now (and has been for several hours). Finally, the first snow storm of the winter. The snow is dry and powdery and has blanketed everything.

God wants you to bling

I think I just found my new all-time favorite quote. Rhonda says it is a good message for the Christmas season.

"My God is a God who wants me to have things. He wants me to bling. He wants me to be the hottest thing on the block. I don't know what kind of God the rest of y'all are serving, but the God I serve says, 'Mary, you need to be the hottest thing this year, and I'm gonna make sure you're doing that."
-- Mary J. Blige

Overheard in our house earlier today...

"So, you know how I broke the salad spinner when I let Buddy lick the pancake batter out of it and he ran away with it and tried to eat it?"

"Yeah."

"So, well, I really hate not having a salad spinner. It makes washing lettuce so difficult. So I tried something new."

"AMY! What did you do?"

"Well, um, I put the washed salad in a paper bag, stapled it shut, and then put it in the dryer on 'no heat.' "

[incredulous look] "You are crazy."

[pause]

"So, how'd it work?"

"Well, the good news is that the lettuce is dry. But I guess that damp paper bags don't do well on tumble dry, so the lettuce is kind of all over the inside of the dryer."

Welcome Winter Snack Tree of Peace

As mentioned and documented in my last posting, we cut down a tree in our woods the other day. We brought it inside and it warmed and filled our still-bare walls in our partly-unfurnished living room. The strangeness of the tradition in which we go out into wintertime and kill a tree and bring it into the house as a way of celebrating renewal and winter make me think a lot about David Sedaris' story "Six to Eight Black Men" in which he laments the bizareness of Dutch holiday traditions. (By the way, this is so funny and worth listening to that I spent the better part of an hour tracking it down online. There are some bizarre versions on You Tube, but you might be better downloading this episode of "This American Life" to avoid odd video montages.)

Anyway, embracing the strangeness of cutting down a tree and bringing it into your home, we decided that the tree should be a "Welcome Winter" tree, since that seemed to be the real purpose of dragging this pine tree through our house and giving it a month of post-mortem bliss. Besides, we were slightly embarrassed about having to admit to putting up a Christmas Tree on November 17th.

So it was known as the Welcome Winter Tree for almost a whole day. But then we decided to decorate. The branches of the tree are spare and supple, and we decided that popcorn icicles would be the best way to go. We set about adorning our tree with freshly-popped popcorn strung onto 12-inch piece of thread. The effect was very pretty and simple; it is an old fashioned looking tree. However, it was within minutes that we realized our oversight: Buddy loves popcorn and could in no way resist the temptation of a whole tree laden with swaying strings of dangling popcorn. We watched in amazement as the dog circled the tree, sniffing heartily, while occasionally standing on his hind legs and trying to steal a snack. We soon realized that we had created a very wonderful, phenomenal thing in the life of our dog: a Welcome Winter Snack Tree.

Our friends the Gieblers came by a few nights later and were amused and delighted by our story of the evolving tree name. David informed us that we had a White Pine and after they left we looked up White Pines in our naturalist guide. I read out loud to Rhonda about the history of the White Pine, and its history in the logging and lumber industry in the North Woods. The book then went on to explain the importance of White Pine in the Iroquois Nation, explaining that the Iroquoi refer to it as the Tree of Peace. I looked at Rhonda and said, you know what this means don't you? " She smiled and said, "yeah, we now have a Welcome Winter Snack Tree of Peace."

Thanks

Our friend Lauren is in town between a trip to China and Thanksgiving with her family in Indiana. Her short layover is mostly about eating, walking in the woods, and making things for future eating. Later today we will eat a made-up holiday meal we will call Thankslauren. As the sweet potato rolls bake, let me regale you with a photographic list of things we've done.

We canned our own tomato sauce:



We cut down a Welcome Winter Tree (formerly known as Christmas Tree) in our own woods:

And we spent hours in front of the fire:




Most of these photos were taken by Lauren who is a professional photographer.

victim of our frugality

we are on a pretty tight budget. We are living on one salary while paying a mortgage and a ridiculous amount of student loans. So, it goes without saying that we have to watch our pennies. anyone who knows us well will testify to the fact that living within a budget is harder for me than it is for Rhonda. (You may recall an earlier entry in which she-who-is-less-thrifty splurged on a vintage chip and dip set.)

Living on a budget means making a series of choices. This much I have learned. We cannot have it all, and in fact, we cannot have many pretty, shiny things that might attract my eye. We have been trying to find a balance between living comfortably (heat at 68? No way! too high!) and living within our means. This means that we can no longer afford to take Buddy to the groomer regularly. That usually runs 40-50 bucks per visit. Instead, we decided to do it ourselves. But we had the added hurdle of buying good clippers; we tried the cheap ones and they were crap. Expensive clippers can cost hundreds of dollars. So, we settled on taking Buddy to the amazing Marinette Farm and Garden store where you can wash and clip your dog in their facility. Less messy than doing it at home. And it only costs 15 bucks.

Today we went to give Buddy a much overdue cut and wash. It took us an hour and a half of coaxing, distracting, and immobilizing to give the damn dog a haircut. It is really hard. And despite the professional grade equipment, these non-professional hands did not render a show-worthy 'do. In fact, Buddy looks like a raggedy little dog that no one wanted. Poor, neglected dog left to fend for himself in the great North Woods.

Rhonda was very encouraging throughout the whole experience, saying things like "its really not SO bad, He looks fine, etc. " It was an hour or so later, when Buddy was dry and fluffy, that I took a look at him from the front. I almost fell out of the kitchen chair laughing as I realized that we had cut Buddy's front legs entirely different lengths. It now looks like we have a little disabled dog whose left leg is atrophied from all of the time spent starving in the woods. Or, perhaps it is a war wound. The great budgetary wars of the Lesbinger household.

snow

it started snowing about an hour ago -- first snow of the year. We went outside with the dog and looked up into the sky to watch the tiny flakes descend.
it was beautiful.

I am sitting at my desk watching a ladybug. My home office is "temporarily" -- meaning at least for the next six months-- located on the front sun-porch. This is an east-facing room, long and narrow with some wicker chairs that were left behind by the previous owners. Much to everyone's surprise the room is well heated; in fact, it is the warmest room in the house. Even warmer now than before thanks to the additional insulation added by Rhonda and family as they rennovated the master bedroom above. So, I am sitting her watching a ladybug attempt to regain full mobility after being partly squashed by my left hand just a few moments ago. The squash was accidental though inevitable. Apparently every home in Northern Wisconsin is annually invaded by thousands of ladybugs.

They are said to bring good luck. They eat aphids. But they also end up in everything: doing a backstroke in my tea, landing on food, dying in the windowsill, drowning in the toilet, dancing around light bulbs. The other night Buddy was alone in the bedroom while we sat just feet away in the tv area. He was growling and then barking at something we couldn't hear. I went in to investigate and found him sitting with his face inches from the lamp, barking at the silly ladybugs who were vigorously flying back and forth between the light bulb and the shade.

mellingers

Rhonda's parents left this afternoon. I am forever indebted to them for insulating, re-building, drywalling and mudding our rather large bedroom. Rhonda and her dad bonded over this project (one night working until 9:30pm) and all three of them worked tirelessly for six days in a row. The last morning, while Rhonda and her dad did last-minute things, her mom taught me how to make and can apple sauce. We had a really nice visit, and we never be able to repay them for all of the hard work.

outlaws

Rhonda's parents are in town. They are really good people -- kind and generous and extremely hard working. They are wrapping up day two of insulating and dry-walling our bedroom. The significance is not lost on me that Rhonda's rather conservative, Christian, parents drove 16 hours to spend a week working on their lesbian daughter's big-gay bedroom.

Did I mention that we have never spent any time together before (I had only met them once before).

"family"

So, uhm, about the "dyke bar" in Green Bay... here is my version of the story with some creative liberties taken.

The cute waitress at the sushi place (which was amazing) warned us that "Sass" could be, at times, "scary." We asked for clarification and she said "it's enough to turn you straight." She went on to explain that people could be really unfriendly and clique-ish and that you could practically get beat up for just looking at someone the wrong way. Rhonda and I looked at each other and said why not -- it would at least be interesting in a rough-and-tumble kind of way.

So, we headed towards the industrial area -- which, in Green Bay, is practically redundant-- turning right under the overpass and before the train tracks. The bar was almost unmarked -- there were neon signs in the window including some rainbow Bud signs and one that read "Sass" in very small letters.

We prepare our tough-selves to enter this tough bar. We walk in. There is nobody there. just the bar tender. Marissa, I think. We look around and the very, very bare-essentials interior (an old, run down couch in one corner, two pool tables, several video game) and amble over to the bar. Within a minute two more women (probably younger, looked like they play softball) come in and sit at the opposite end of the bar. We order drinks, and birthday girl gets a free shot. I am completely and totally distracted by the fact that there are multiple TVs on and I can't match up the sound with the image. Needless to say I am not the best bar-companion. At some point, after the tequila and gin and tonics settle into her blood stream, Rhonda begins lamenting the situation: "Why isn't there anyone here? Where are all the dykes? Are there only four dykes in Green Bay? I WANT EYE CANDY!" The latter, of course, is so unlike Rhonda that I begin laughing hysterically and practically fall off of the bar stool. As I look around to reassess the situation, my eyes are drawn to the fact that the woman closest to us is nursing a plastic bottle. My eyes then fall to the bar where I see her tin of chewing tobacco next to her drink. I swivel back to rhonda and report back that dykes in Wisconsin CHEW TOBACCO. Rhonda, as amazed, squints her eyes to peer through the dark and sees the bottle in hand. She squeals like a little girl and says "oh my god, ewwwww. gross."

We soon after left the bar and headed to the grocery store. We stocked up on two weeks worth of food and headed back to our little house. We were home and in bed by midnight; I'm sure that the scene at Sass was just beginning to get interesting.

feliz cumpleaños, querida

33 years ago Rhonda Lee Mellinger was born into this world.

We have spent seven birthdays together in a wide range of settings. The first birthday we spent together we were brand new to this relationship (1 month in), and I took her to the Oregon coast for the day. We celebrated both of our 30th b.days by going to Costa Rica. Two years ago we were in Port Townsend drinking champagne (where Rhonda claims to have gotten drunk for the first time ever -- see photos above). This year we are headed to Green Bay to eat Sushi and to find the dyke bar (yes, there is one). And then, after that, we're going grocery shopping!

I am amazed and honored to spend a seventh birthday tucked away in our little house in the North Woods. What an adventure it has been!

Autumn

Today Rhonda hung out several loads of wash, taking full advantage of the 70 degree sun. It was a remarkable day, and I felt the need to document (to the best of my ability) the colors and light.

I am suffering deeply from camera envy. Tricia brought their beautiful, new, Cannon SLR digital camera, and she let me try it out. It was so amazing. Suddenly my little Cybershot seems old and outdated. (This is the problem with technology, it accelerates the cycle of wants.)

I was able to catch a few interesting viewpoints, though i think it was mostly accidental.

Innards

I have been a blog slacker. This causes me great worry: will my readership dwindle? Will I lose touch with my peeps? Will my mom ever read my blog when it is not updated regularly?

It is enough to keep a girl up at night.

So I offer a series of excuses:

1. It is a lot of work to teach 4 writing classes
2. I had a lot of catching up to do 'cause baby Rio was captivating & distracting
   
3. We tore apart our bedroom
   

The third excuse is, perhaps, the most original and interesting. Yes, we entirely gutted our bedroom last week, starting with the ceiling and working our way to the carpeting and multiple layers of paneling. (Wisconsin interior design tip #125: What do you put over paneling? PANELING!) It was FUN -- and a lot of freakin' hard work. It became less fun once the insulation started falling down and we had gallons of loose cellulose "blown" insulation filling the room with dust and nastiness. But, we persevered (Rhonda taking over most of the work once Monday rolled around), and we are now ready for R's parents to come and help us drywall. Let us all say a prayer to the deities of your choice that we can actually drywall this funny, catty-wampus room.

On an entirely different note: we were watching Gray's Anatomy last night when I realized that I knew one of the patients. Ruthie, the over-zealous dieter and exercise fiend, was played by Maggie Siff who I know from Bryn Mawr. I rather idolized Maggie in college -- she always had the lead in the College plays whereas I was remaindered to the likes of a talking bird (yes, it's true). She also, I remembered last night, was one of the three people who took me out for a beer on my 21st birthday; she was older, cool and sophisticated. Sadly, Maggie/Ruthie died a rather gross death last night that began with vomiting blood and, subsequently, sending Rhonda to hide entirely under the covers while screaming "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

Maggie is an amazing actress and a very cool person. She has a recurring role in "Mad Men" -- a series about advertising execs in the 1960s. After years in the Philly and NYC theater she has taken the LA plunge; I hope that her career continues to skyrocket. Plus, do you know what this does for my status in the realm of six-degrees (of Kevin Bacon)?!

Rio!

My friend Tricia and her new, beautiful, baby-girl, Rio Shanti, arrived on Thursday. We are having so much fun just playing and talking. The only thing that would make it better would be having Tonja (Rio's mommy) here with us.

Buddy liked Rio a lot, at first. But then she got some special treatment, and she didn't leave soon enough, and it was like a call to war. Buddy spent much time (after this photo was taken) asserting his dominance and protecting me from Rio.

when turkeys come to call

Yesterday at lunchtime we had visitors. 24 of them. They are SO BIG now it is hard to do them justice. However, I used the computer's camera to quickly capture their image.

Friends

We are just back from two days in Madison. Buddy was lucky enough to have his own special Tirza-sit. He came away from the weekend with the new nickname: "snuggle bunny."

It was really good to get away for a little bit; Madison is a great city, and we enjoyed eating our way through the weekend. (The highlights: good Nepalese food on State Street, Kale and Greens and the Farmers' Market, and fresh dolmas at the Willy Street Co-op). It was also good to come home. As we turned onto Shore Drive after the last leg of the drive (we stopped for Chinese food at Chef Chu's in Green Bay, a restaurant whose name made us giggle in its similarity to our friends name -- Jeff Chiu) we talked about what it felt like to return "home." It is beginning to feel like a real home -- both through time and sweat equity -- and now we are ready to share it with our friends.

Which brings me to the second part of this entry. There is a lot going on in the lives of our friends. In addition to the previously-blogged mention of births, we have neglected to make any mention of other big, life things. Emily Hughes is 1-year cancer free!!!!; Sari Gold is a doctor; Beccalena moved to Berkeley; Gaby and Kaushik are recently without a home because of a fire (they are okay -- i still think they should come and stay here for recovery!); Ben Dorn got married; Natalie and Meg are becoming dog-mamas; and, last but not even a little bit least, Tricia and baby-Rio are coming from Northampton on Thursday to be our first house guests! The moral of the story? Buy renter's insurance, celebrate the good things, and come visit us!

xoxo

students

pregnant. addicted. virgin. autistic. hearing voices. unable to get pregnant. published. domestic violence. single mom. caretaker. felon. divorced. Iraq vet. broken heart. laid off. honors student. drinking. slacker. religious. first generation. Native. dyslexic. never read a single book. high school dropout.

These are some of the things my students have told me about themselves.

been a long time...

Another week has flown by. We have already completed three weeks of school. I have 47 ungraded papers in my bag to show for it. The week has been good, bad, and ugly. I think we are both struggling with our new and shifting roles as full-time teacher and stay-at-home domestic diva. I come home exhausted and needing to veg. Rhonda has been at home all day dealing with a range of projects from painting the bathroom to mowing the acreage to baking bread and feeding the masses (on a tight budget). I want to be helpful but am, at times, lazy. Rhonda feels overwhelmed with the amount there is to do in this old, needin'-updating house.

And there are the good things. I have funny stories to share about my crazy students. I have good teaching days where I feel inspired. Rhonda finds moments of relaxation in the woods. She has made several killer loaves of bread and new dishes (beet risotto!) that bring inspiration and good eating into our day.

One success in our week is that we finally finished the bathroom. It took so much longer than we thought, in part because of the surprises: the bathroom fan that David and Rhonda installed took several days to cut through the walls, wire the ceiling, etc. The wallpaper was a pain in the arse to get off. The walls underneath were damaged. There was drywall repair and paint consultations. Lights and fixtures were ordered online. We re-fabbed the sink and installed our own, new faucet. And then there was the shower curtain: we found the ideal shower curtain more than a month ago. But every Target in the midwest was out of it. We made lots of phone calls. We tracked it down.

Today we put the final touch on our new and improved bathroom. We found this enormous, heavy mirror at TJ Maxx for a super-clearance price of 5 bucks. It weighs at least 25 pounds and required hours of retrofitting to make it secure. We used a stud finder to locate the right mounting location only to find out that the studs stop halfway up the wall (WHY? WHY, I implore you?). After all of the effort that we put into this tiny bathroom, it was the mirror that brought us to the edge of our collective sanity. However, we persevered and jerry-rigged and alas, we have a centered, secure, level mirror. And a fully-functional bathroom. This is a huge luxury after weeks of having to pee under a ladder (in the mid-painted bathroom, not outside) and showering in the basement's farmer's shower. The end product is quite lovely. It is a space that feels clean and simple. It is pretty hard to capture the room well -- it is small and bare which doesn't necessarily lend itself to photography. However, here are some before and after pics:

Wall and light fixtures: Old = stripey wallpaper and globe lamp



Old, pearlized sink with coppery faucet; new, brighter and simpler fixture and sink top.



The final product:

Six Years

Today we are celebrating our anniversary. Two days early. But it is my year to cook, and I figured that preparing a big meal after teaching until 4pm was not a likely option. And tomorrow night there is an Eagles game, so Rhonda would be unavailable to eat...

So we broke with tradition -- usually a surprise dinner cooked alternately by one of us -- and instead had anniversary brunch. I started with from-scratch cinnamon rolls. Then we took a walk in the woods with buddy. It was a particularly eventful walk as we scared a brood of turkeys who were hanging out in a clearing, and then we watched deer cutting across the path ahead of us. We sat for a while, listening to the trees rustle and taking note of how beautiful it is here.

Then, the real food began. I made (for the first time, mind you) a PA Dutch/Southern staple: chicken and gravy on waffles!! Rhonda was surprised, amused at my selection, and we were both amazed at how delicious it all was. I also made a side of applesauce made from apples picked by the Kallgren children yesterday (thank you!) and we ate outside in the sun. We plopped a table in the middle of the back field/garden area and enjoyed the wonderful strangeness of realizing that in the last of our six years together we changed almost everything. To find ourselves sitting in our garden in Northern Wisconsin is both disorienting and delightful. I know we are both glad to be on this adventure together.

Guns for Education

I have been in an excessively good mood for the last several days. In part, I get really hyper and excited after teaching. And, since I teach twice a day, I have lots of high-energy occasions. I find myself surprised, charmed, and engaged by the students in my class. I have the most interesting range of learners: a retired armchair historian, a few single moms, and students with a wide range of differing abilities and life-challenges. And they show up to class every day. They seem really excited to be in college (if not always in my class) and they surprise me both with their insights and, at times, the lack.

And then there are always the turkeys. You learn to expect a certain element in your classes; in my experience at Washington it was often the Frat boys sitting in the back of the class with their baseball caps on, dressed in Abercrombie, snickering with disinterest while trying to recover from the weekend's parties. You are just a glitch in their day, and they are cocky as hell. The good news: these cocky, strutting beasts seem not to be in my classes (at least this semester). However, there are the loudest, strutting, look-at-me-I'm-cool creatures who like to traipse through our yard early in the morning. TURKEYS. Real, wild, loud, turkeys. Saturday morning (the day to sleep in, mind you) we were roused at 7am by no less than 20 wild turkeys parading under our bedroom window, across the driveway, and through the yard. Like wild kingdom, but real. And the best part about these enormous birds who live in our woods and eat our bugs is that they are just part of the status quo. No one pays them any mind. Of course, it is NORMAL to have large, 20+ pound birds grazing freely in the neighborhood. Yes, they probably live in your woods. And, yes, sometimes they like to cross the road very slowly. It is all part of the way of life in this neck of the woods.

We followed the already raucous morning of turkey-watching with an 8am session of "Colleagues with Chainsaws." You do not know this event? Well, it begins when two of your colleagues have plans to go to a gun show. They decide to meet up at your place and to drop off a cooler and a chainsaw. They then decide that we should just have at it and start trimming that tree that is so overgrown. Next thing you know, you have a music Prof, a biologist, and one domestic diva (Rhonda) attacking a 30 ft. Spruce from all angles. (Amy and Buddy watch, far out of harms way.) After an hour, the tree is much improved and the colleagues look at each other and say, "well, should we head to the gun show?" It is only then that I see that said music professor is wearing a t-shirt that includes the words "guns" and "education." Rhonda looks at him and says "In Marinette, even the liberals like guns!"

I can' resist tying this all together by mentioning that it is soon turkey season (and squirrel season!). I have a strange non -resistance to hunting turkeys. Whereas deer have these big, sweet eyes and always seem so scared, turkeys seem quite self-assured and unafraid. Shooting them seems not such a loss. There will be more. Lots more.

What has become of me?

Teaching

It was a good day. I feel excited about teaching, about being here -- in this new and quirky place -- and I feel particularly good about the people. I had my small class this afternoon, and as the discussion percolated at a good speed, I looked around the room and realized that it was perhaps the strangest and most interesting teaching setting to date. I have

the smoking man doesn't know my blog

Today was the first day of class. On Tuesday/Thursday I have an 8am section of English 101, and a 2:55 (yes, 2:55!?) section of English 201. I will write more on the schedule in a moment, but first I should say that the first day went quite well. I was surprised at the diversity (racial) in my 101 class; I had students of color and they were not all international students! I asked the class to write me some words of advice on surviving Wisconsin winters and responses included: don't forget to pay the heat bill, keep cat litter in your car, and "think warm."

One might wonder how to structure a day in which your classes are seven hours apart. In general, I have decided that I will come home between classes. Living half a mile from school makes this imminently possible. (I shared this strategy with my dad who asked "they pay you for THAT?") But, being that it was the first day, I had a lot of details to take care of, so I didn't head home until 1-ish. As I was walking down the lane that leads me (the back way) to our house, I hear this voice ask "You done with school already?" I turn to see this man I have never met sitting on his deck and having a smoke. I looked at him quizzically and he said "oh, I saw you heading to school this morning." Let me repeat that I DO NOT KNOW THIS MAN. And yet, he knew I was coming home from school. Either because he actually knows who I am (small town: word travels fast), or because one can only assume that a woman wearing pinstriped pants and a paisley shirt must be going to the University, that HE KNEW. And, the funnier part being, like my father he seemed incredulous that I could be done already.

I also had to decide what I wanted the students to call me. After much debate and discussion, I have settled on "Dr. Amy." I explained to my students that finishing my PhD was one of the most excruciating things I have ever done and, gosh darn it, I earned those letters. And yet, I do not want to go all the way with this power trip. Besides, Dr. Reddinger makes me sound like a Urologist.

I hope (ahem, Georgia) that I have sufficiently narrated the first day. I am sure that I will write more as the week progresses. I also want to give props to all those who commented on my comments. Rhonda had a good laugh when no one responded to that post for a day or two, but then she was equally excited when the responses came rolling in. I think that blogging is a strange beast, but I have really enjoyed the opportunity to write creatively on a pretty regular basis. I strongly recommend that if you want to try this blogging thing, you should start blogging about things that excite you. So, for instance, Tamiko should write about food and Celia and life with Denmark's most famous composer while Georgia might want to blog about cheese and my space (see comments from last post). Certain friends might want to blog about chickens...

Rhonda took these this morning as I headed off:

Comments!?

I am new to blogging. I have been reading a few choice blogs -- dooce & postsecret are favorites -- for a few years. However, the experience of writing publicly and putting it "out there" is all new. And the most surprising thing to me is how attached I am to your readership and comments. I check for comments every morning. Before I check email. I want to see who is reading, what they have to add to the conversation, or what smart-ass things are brought forth. It is embarrassing and a mark of cyber-uncool to admit how much I want you to comment on what I am writing.

I love that some of you have told me you are reading this regularly (even if you are not commenting). I have to admit that I have gotten a little dictatorial about the whole thing. I have even gone so far as to refuse to tell my mother a story because "It is on my blog." This is an ongoing game we have been playing as my mother has not yet looked at this site. Perhaps it is because she does not love me enough (something I used to say as a child to manipulate her into acquiescence). However, according to her it is a political statement. She told me flat out: "I don't read blogs." My mother is a woman of principle and I do not expect her to post comments any time soon.

Official

My contract start date was yesterday. I officially have an office, business cards, and meetings to go to. As of Tuesday I will have classes to teach. Perhaps what makes me feel most for-real is that I am now listed on the college's web directory. Still not used to the "Dr. Reddinger" references. Ha!

countdown to bat freedom

At 8pm last night there was a loud knocking at our side door. After struggling to get it open (the door is swollen from humidity and lack of use) we were face to face with THE BAT GUYS. Marshall and Andy Hanks are a father-son team from Door County, and they are experts at bat-proofing your house. They were at the end of a long day of work and wanted to let us know that they would be by early in the morning. Door county is a good 2-hour drive from here, and they had a long list of clients in the Marinette area, so they were heading to the Comfort Inn to get some sleep before another full day. Marshall (a lean, soft-spoken man in his 60s) wanted to know "how early do folks get up around here?" which was his way of asking how early they could come back. We -- being so completely happy just to see them after week of waiting -- said they could come as early as they needed to.

So, at 7am we were outside greeting Marshall and Andy as they pulled ladders and equipment from their trucks. There was a big storm brewing to the northwest and they were concerned about getting rained out. So they worked incredibly quickly, methodically surveying the roof-line and looking for any openings. They installed six "eliminators" which is bat-guy talk for a bat door that allows bat out but not back in. Apparently the roofers responsible for our roof never attached these plastic caps at either end of the roof peak. This baffled Andy who said they must have just forgotten to do this. (Imagine: hot summer day, roofers are weary, they want cold beer, they say to each other "let's go to the Packers bar down the street," they forget to cap the roof...) So, within an hour they were done. They guarantee their work for a full year, and Marshall promised: "by tonight at 10pm you will be bat free." Hallelujah!

sleepy peoples

I woke up this morning at 4:40 when I thought I heard the flapping of furious wings over my head. It turns out that it was a dream -- just a grand finale to a night of strange restlessness. It doesn't help that I was sleeping in between two of the warmest beings known to the planet earth. The heat generating unit known as Buddy is generally not allowed in the bed. However, when you are sleeping on a futon on the living room floor, there is little you can do to prevent little dogs from snuggling up to you in the dark of the night. Buddy is clever in that he waits until we are both fully asleep, and then he moves from his little doggy bed (made of corduroy and cheap filler) to our bed (lined with nice, soft, cotton sheets and a down comforter).This habit of mid-night migration has lead to many a confused morning in which we are all slightly rearranged. Yesterday morning, Rhonda sat up, looked around, and said "where's Buddy?" with genuine perplexity. Then, as if called forth by magic, a very rumpled looking dog-face emerged from directly between our heads. We had been so asleep and comfortable that we didn't notice that Buddy had wedged himself directly between us in the middle of the night. Good thing I didn't roll over -- he would have been one smashed dog-pancake.

Schlemiel! Schlemazl!

Today we drove to Milwaukee to buy a dining room table. Yes. we drove 2.5 hours, to the fictive home of Laverne and Shirley, to buy a table. But it is the most perfect and beautiful table sold by a nice man who we will call Mr. J. as we violated the rules of ebay by operating off-site. The table is huge, solid wood, and a really clean, simple design.

After we picked up the table, we spent the day roaming the corridor from Sheboygan to Green Bay. We had a blissful hour in the TJ MAXX housewares aisle, where we almost bought pink silicon muffin tins, le crueset ramakins, and a set of lime green DKNY sheets. But, we didn't. No, we were modest splurgers and we came home at the end of the day with a bathroom mirror, a new Ryobi sander, and kitchen scissors. We are such practical girls!

Friends just dropped by to see the new table. we opened a bottle of wine & christened the new piece of furniture. I think it qualifies as our second piece of real, grownup furniture. it even has a built-in leaf that glides effortlessly into place to create a big, beautiful beast that seats ten.

Consumed

It goes without saying that we have had to buy a lot of things over the last weeks. Most of this was expected -- we knew there was not going to be a fridge in the house, for instance. We also knew enough to expect the unexpected. This includes paying for bat professionals (we are still a week out on the waiting list, still sleeping in the living room...) and buying a brand new washing machine as the one here went kaput.

If you are like Rhonda -- the fiscally wise and responsible member of this household -- these are things that are worrying. And yet, they are also things that the fiscally responsible person plans for. So the worry is not that there is no money, but rather a worry about how it might effect the overall budget for the fiscal year as articulated by aforementioned wise planner.

If you are like Amy -- the all-American spender of the household-- then occasions like this can be expressed as follows: "wheee! we get to spend money on nifty big appliances. What fun! Let's celebrate by adding to my vintage pyrex collection."

The following two items were purchased within 30 minutes of one another. Can you distinguish necessity from frivolity? Aren't they pretty?

In the kitchen

Finally! We are done with the kitchen. There are plenty of things that are still imperfect, but the simple act of stripping wallpaper and painting a warm, bright color has made all of the difference in how we feel about this space. FYI, the color is called "squish-squash." Ha.

Before:

After (ignoring the glare):

streaming

It has been a few days. Instead of trying to write some boring narrative of exactly what we have been doing, I am going to remain true to my ADD tendencies and share a range of moments/ thoughts and projects.

Item #1: We have just about completed the kitchen (and when I say "we" I mean that I taped and cleaned and Rhonda painted. She had better motor control). It was such a catharsis to strip the wallpaper and transform the room with paint. So much a thrill that I got ahead of myself and started to strip the bathroom wallpaper while in the shower. Yes, I was in the shower when suddenly possessed by a need to strip the wallpaper. Here is what the wallpaper looked like. You see, it had to go. Now we have a half-naked bathroom, stripped down the the paper backing and paint. Still, an improvement.

More important, here is what all of the fixtures including lighting, faucets, towel bars, etc. look like:

Can you name this style? I think the switchplate is actually designed to look like a scroll. Is it medieval? Colonial? ('cause, you know, colonists were really big into decorative switchplates.)

Item #2: We had to take the car to the garage to get this annoying rattle taken care of. The guys were super-nice and charges us only 10 bucks for tightening the heat shield. They did, however, also encounter a large mouse nest in the car -- when the mechanic opened the hood one of "the tenants" scurried away. (I can't help but think about how devastated that mouse-family is by this event. One of them now lives at Jim's All-Care while the others could be scattered at various points between here and there.)

I had to ride my bike back from the mechanic (as we have only one car and want to have only one car). I was struck by how beautiful the ride was. It is only 2.5 miles from our house to the strip mall area where the mechanic is located. Surrounded by fast food joints, a mall, and the ubiquitous Walmart, it was a huge surprise to realize that the swatch of land between stripmall-land and our house is untouched. For now. There are rumors of a Super-Walmart and a Target coming soon.

Item #3:

We went to Green Bay yesterday. This is, perhaps, the thing that makes me feel most like I'm living in the hinterlands. Most people we know drive to Green Bay (56 miles) once or twice a month to do a "big shop." The grocery stores here are notoriously expensive and there is a Woodmans in Green Bay. Woodmans is cool and huge and really cheap. And it is employee owned. It also has the largest cheese section I have ever seen in any store anywhere.

This picture shows Rhonda leaning over one (of four) of the cheese cases. They have everything from Kraft cheese in a box to local organic cheeses. Since we are on a pretty tight budget, we are not buying organics these days. However, we are trying to support local farmers and buying only Wisconsin cheeses.

I was also struck by the fact that you can buy lots of things in very large quantities. Just to give a sense of perspective, these mayo containers were as big as my head. Also, note the large cannister of MSG at the bottom right.

My final observation is more about regional brands. It goes without saying that, when you move from one part of this country to another, you will encounter new, regional brands. There are all kinds of things we have never seen before. However, this has to be one of the strangest. Faygo, a mid-western soda company, has a line of beverages called "Ohana." As indicated on the packaging, "Ohana is Hawaiian for family."

Ohana = family = brand of soda in the midwest.