Finally, she's moved out! Totally and completely, out of her room... and into every other room in the house! She's packed and unpacked shoes ten times. Life goes on and one still has to dress for work.
Dia's best buddy moved yesterday. Elizabeth, Dia's left kidney left town for Notre Dame, but first she dropped by--ostensibly to return Dia's princess tiara (she knew college wouldn't be complete without it), but I knew that it was just an excuse, she came to see me as I have acted as her underground cheddar supplier for years.
I watched her leave and as she strolled down my front walk, she gazed around her as if smelling the air and taking in the surroundings one last time. I felt her saying goodbye to the very nature of things. It was as if she was embracing the change and immersing herself in it.
I'm wandering about wondering how bad it's really going to be before this college move-out thing gets done. When will I have my "Tacobell breakdown" (a favored Mom-cry spot on the BYU college campus).
I don't cry. Dia says I insulate, and that it's not necessarily a good thing. Yesterday we discussed that "When we don't get to the deepest feelings, then we can't explore our innermost thoughts." Sounds like a "the worst you feel now, the better you'll feel later" concept to me.
I'm skeptical. How does that work?
"If I don't deal with it now," she warns that "it's going to come back to bite me." Great, then I'll deal with it later.
My girlfriend (mom of four college girls) assures me that children need to move on and if I've given them strong wings, I'll have no regrets. She reminds me that someday they'll flit back, and with luck they'll bring grandkids.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Marsh Paste
It’s one of the winding up days, leading to college. Aidan has already removed Dia from the back-to-School “Tell All About Me” poster. He has a brother, father, mother and cats.
“Well she’s gone isn’t she?” he reasons.
The two of them are downstairs perusing the contents of the freezer. Dia makes a selection and is in the course of spooning out a bite when Aidan says, “What’s that stuff.”
“It’s marsh paste.” “Yuck,” Dia comments, thinking fast.
“Hmm, what’s in it?” He asks, wrinkling his nose.
First you take, marshmellows and you pound them, then you add cornmeal and okra and then roll it,”
“Yuck,” he interrupts, and moves onto the other mystery contents.
Dia turns her back to talk to me and moments later we hear,
“YUM! I love marsh paste.”
Dia races over to the table and snatches the container of frozen whipped cream from Aidan, cuffing him in the process and sending him scuttling off to the nether regions of the freezer in search of more “YUCKY” stuff.
“You should just be able to tell them something is gross and have them trust you,” Dia states huffily.
I respond, “Your kids are going to be so messed up.”
She replies, “And that would make you sad… because then there will be nothing left for you to do.”
Ah, I’ll miss her when she goes. She makes me laugh.
“Well she’s gone isn’t she?” he reasons.
The two of them are downstairs perusing the contents of the freezer. Dia makes a selection and is in the course of spooning out a bite when Aidan says, “What’s that stuff.”
“It’s marsh paste.” “Yuck,” Dia comments, thinking fast.
“Hmm, what’s in it?” He asks, wrinkling his nose.
First you take, marshmellows and you pound them, then you add cornmeal and okra and then roll it,”
“Yuck,” he interrupts, and moves onto the other mystery contents.
Dia turns her back to talk to me and moments later we hear,
“YUM! I love marsh paste.”
Dia races over to the table and snatches the container of frozen whipped cream from Aidan, cuffing him in the process and sending him scuttling off to the nether regions of the freezer in search of more “YUCKY” stuff.
“You should just be able to tell them something is gross and have them trust you,” Dia states huffily.
I respond, “Your kids are going to be so messed up.”
She replies, “And that would make you sad… because then there will be nothing left for you to do.”
Ah, I’ll miss her when she goes. She makes me laugh.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Dia's Satellite for Tulsa World Article
An argument for book banning . . . or at least a forewarning of content
DIA
By DIA DARCEY Satellite Correspondent 8/11/2008Last Modified: 8/11/2008 4:14 AM
My advanced literature class has introduced some truly enlightening literature this semester.
"Yay! More black-and-white pornography!" I exclaimed as we students were assigned the latest required reading by our English teacher.
In Advanced Placement, we are offered both timeless classics and newer, popular titles to challenge and advance our thought processes. Still, at times, I feel that I'm being subjected to more detail than may be found in an X-rated movie. This kind of pornographic content should be banned, or at least censored.
Heck, I'd even appreciate a warning scribbled on a Post-It note inside the front cover.
Personally, I would prefer that my primary sex education NOT occur accidentally during English class. When teachers require this material, they condone the content, whether they like it or not. How can administrators sleep at night when they're promoting this double standard? "Here, read about this and this and this. Aren't we learning a lot? Whoa, hey! Stop that! Where ever did you ever get that idea?!"
'Monkey see, monkey do' goes doubly for teenagers, and as much as we teens try to prove our maturity, the facts still stand firm: Raging hormones, developing frontal lobes and social stresses combined with ever-widening freedoms create more judgment problems for teenagers than any other age group. How can intelligent parents block cable, V-chip MTV, ban HALO III and punish us for dirty language, but not bat an eyelash as we pull out our homework assignment to annotate the (at least) R-rated "Beloved" or "Catch-22"?
What, you think it won't affect us because it's on a page? Because it's not a series of moving pictures or graphics? Because it's in print, it requires an advanced vocabulary and increases our comprehension? Some of the most influential mediums in the world were and are books. Anyone ever heard of the Bible? "Mein Kampf"?
What we listen to, what we watch and, believe it or not, what we read, affects us. When faced with my resistance, my English teacher does her best to give me a few reasons that we, as high school seniors, are exposed to these kinds of books:
Art is art, and those who would define, refine or confine it lose its very essence.
Who is to say what is acceptable and what is not, and how long will it be until the tyranny of politically correct editing creates a real "1984" state?
The truth is only truth when it flows without barrier or constraint, letting loose the human soul to spring unfettered across the wide expanses of creativity!
Only illiterate, ignorant zealots want to censor books — we fear what we cannot understand!
Truly discerning readers are able to appreciate the author's purpose in including any language, events or descriptions.
Personally, and as an AP literature student with a kick-butt ACT reading score, I'm a bit skeptical of the generalizations that all censorship is the product of ignorance and can be placed on the same level as cannibalism, deforestation and Hitler. It seems to this ignorant National Merit Scholar (not to drop titles or anything) that everyone is anti-censorship because none of us wants to be labeled a philistine.
Book-banning is bad, of course — it's censorship. It is simply un-American to chain the creative tendencies of our budding authors because of fogey old ideals. I am not advocating censorship. I'm asking the schools and publishers alike to consider my point of view. Even as an 18-year-old "adult," I would like a choice in my exposure to gratuitous sex, violence and language, even in the name of learning, literature or art. I would prefer compelling literature without the public-pleasing passages that "elevate" the book to best-selling status. But in lieu of that, I need some form of warning, a label, a rating or even hint on the outside of literature to let me know the extent of objectionable content therein, no matter how highly the talk shows recommend it or how "enlightening" it may be.
In every other entertainment industry, producers are required to rate their product so the public can make an informed decision. Which is the greater travesty? Depriving the reader of information, judgment and free choice and calling it freedom of speech, or risking the buzzword "censorship" to facilitate knowledge and choice?
Voltaire is credited with the remark: "Though I may not agree with what you say, I will defend to the death your right to say it."
It's a truism of freedom of speech and indeed, of all American liberties. I would not like to contradict, but rather augment, this passage with another phrase: ...however, I do not have the obligation to read, listen to or analyze whatever garbage you have randomly passed off as "art" this afternoon.
DIA
By DIA DARCEY Satellite Correspondent 8/11/2008Last Modified: 8/11/2008 4:14 AM
My advanced literature class has introduced some truly enlightening literature this semester.
"Yay! More black-and-white pornography!" I exclaimed as we students were assigned the latest required reading by our English teacher.
In Advanced Placement, we are offered both timeless classics and newer, popular titles to challenge and advance our thought processes. Still, at times, I feel that I'm being subjected to more detail than may be found in an X-rated movie. This kind of pornographic content should be banned, or at least censored.
Heck, I'd even appreciate a warning scribbled on a Post-It note inside the front cover.
Personally, I would prefer that my primary sex education NOT occur accidentally during English class. When teachers require this material, they condone the content, whether they like it or not. How can administrators sleep at night when they're promoting this double standard? "Here, read about this and this and this. Aren't we learning a lot? Whoa, hey! Stop that! Where ever did you ever get that idea?!"
'Monkey see, monkey do' goes doubly for teenagers, and as much as we teens try to prove our maturity, the facts still stand firm: Raging hormones, developing frontal lobes and social stresses combined with ever-widening freedoms create more judgment problems for teenagers than any other age group. How can intelligent parents block cable, V-chip MTV, ban HALO III and punish us for dirty language, but not bat an eyelash as we pull out our homework assignment to annotate the (at least) R-rated "Beloved" or "Catch-22"?
What, you think it won't affect us because it's on a page? Because it's not a series of moving pictures or graphics? Because it's in print, it requires an advanced vocabulary and increases our comprehension? Some of the most influential mediums in the world were and are books. Anyone ever heard of the Bible? "Mein Kampf"?
What we listen to, what we watch and, believe it or not, what we read, affects us. When faced with my resistance, my English teacher does her best to give me a few reasons that we, as high school seniors, are exposed to these kinds of books:
Art is art, and those who would define, refine or confine it lose its very essence.
Who is to say what is acceptable and what is not, and how long will it be until the tyranny of politically correct editing creates a real "1984" state?
The truth is only truth when it flows without barrier or constraint, letting loose the human soul to spring unfettered across the wide expanses of creativity!
Only illiterate, ignorant zealots want to censor books — we fear what we cannot understand!
Truly discerning readers are able to appreciate the author's purpose in including any language, events or descriptions.
Personally, and as an AP literature student with a kick-butt ACT reading score, I'm a bit skeptical of the generalizations that all censorship is the product of ignorance and can be placed on the same level as cannibalism, deforestation and Hitler. It seems to this ignorant National Merit Scholar (not to drop titles or anything) that everyone is anti-censorship because none of us wants to be labeled a philistine.
Book-banning is bad, of course — it's censorship. It is simply un-American to chain the creative tendencies of our budding authors because of fogey old ideals. I am not advocating censorship. I'm asking the schools and publishers alike to consider my point of view. Even as an 18-year-old "adult," I would like a choice in my exposure to gratuitous sex, violence and language, even in the name of learning, literature or art. I would prefer compelling literature without the public-pleasing passages that "elevate" the book to best-selling status. But in lieu of that, I need some form of warning, a label, a rating or even hint on the outside of literature to let me know the extent of objectionable content therein, no matter how highly the talk shows recommend it or how "enlightening" it may be.
In every other entertainment industry, producers are required to rate their product so the public can make an informed decision. Which is the greater travesty? Depriving the reader of information, judgment and free choice and calling it freedom of speech, or risking the buzzword "censorship" to facilitate knowledge and choice?
Voltaire is credited with the remark: "Though I may not agree with what you say, I will defend to the death your right to say it."
It's a truism of freedom of speech and indeed, of all American liberties. I would not like to contradict, but rather augment, this passage with another phrase: ...however, I do not have the obligation to read, listen to or analyze whatever garbage you have randomly passed off as "art" this afternoon.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
From the Edible Lego's Idiot File
12 New Products From The People Who Brought You 'Lego Fun Snacks'
by Toon, Lydon, Rutledge, & Norman Tuesday June 24, 2008 10:00 AM
We spend the first three years of our children's lives trying to get them not to eat blocks, and now you're telling him they taste like $#@!&% strawberries.'
1. Gummie Vitamins "Eat them like candy," Overdose, stomach pump anyone????
2. This Bag Is Not Not A Toy: the plastic bag with candy coating on the inside
3. Need A Ride?: the board game where you make new friends and get into their cars
4. Zooper Zapper: the panel that lights up and plays cool sounds when you stick metal things in its little slots
5. Retina Spy: the sunglasses that reveal secret messages when you stare directly at the sun
6. AntiFreeezz: the neon green high-sugar energy drink
7. Get The Lead In candy paint chips
8. The Scorchin' Organ: the toy piano shaped like a stove, with keys that look like heat coils
9. The Candy Pharmacist play set
10. Ye Olde MatchTowne: the toy village where every citizen looks like a match, and supplied with candy cigarettes
11. Caliber Creamer: the toy gun that dispenses whipped cream
12. NASCAR Racing Scissors: the faster you run, the bigger the fun
Won't it be fun?
by Toon, Lydon, Rutledge, & Norman Tuesday June 24, 2008 10:00 AM
We spend the first three years of our children's lives trying to get them not to eat blocks, and now you're telling him they taste like $#@!&% strawberries.'
1. Gummie Vitamins "Eat them like candy," Overdose, stomach pump anyone????
2. This Bag Is Not Not A Toy: the plastic bag with candy coating on the inside
3. Need A Ride?: the board game where you make new friends and get into their cars
4. Zooper Zapper: the panel that lights up and plays cool sounds when you stick metal things in its little slots
5. Retina Spy: the sunglasses that reveal secret messages when you stare directly at the sun
6. AntiFreeezz: the neon green high-sugar energy drink
7. Get The Lead In candy paint chips
8. The Scorchin' Organ: the toy piano shaped like a stove, with keys that look like heat coils
9. The Candy Pharmacist play set
10. Ye Olde MatchTowne: the toy village where every citizen looks like a match, and supplied with candy cigarettes
11. Caliber Creamer: the toy gun that dispenses whipped cream
12. NASCAR Racing Scissors: the faster you run, the bigger the fun
Won't it be fun?
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Crazy Horse is just crazy
Just wait for this one. The pictures are great! The bison were looking in the window. These animals are just huge.
random segue
I am not liking the laptop when I try to type and rest my hands on the mousepad. The computer keys go everywhichway and loose. Enough !!! I'll blog someday later.
GAAAAAAaggggghhhhhh
I keep reaching over and trying to drive my cellphone that is resting on the table like a mouse.
enough!!!!!!!
goodbye
random segue
I am not liking the laptop when I try to type and rest my hands on the mousepad. The computer keys go everywhichway and loose. Enough !!! I'll blog someday later.
GAAAAAAaggggghhhhhh
I keep reaching over and trying to drive my cellphone that is resting on the table like a mouse.
enough!!!!!!!
goodbye
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Cross Country in a Car
Darcey's are again traversing the country. It's number forty or fifty or some such astronomical number. We're stopping in Ruskin for food storage... then headed to Rushmore to see the Lost City of Gold (Nat. Treasure II). We're all pretty excited about that.
This time it's sans Dia.
This was not going to be about Dia... at least not yet anyway, but I'd better get writing quickly to face that issue. It's going to take pages and pages of vituperative raging to come to terms with a daughter going off to college. I expect a fall break-down. In fact, I'll schedule it now.
Anyway, Dia is staying at home, mediating the cat fights and trying to keep the two of them from tearing each other apart and peeing throughout the house. Everytime the big cat preys on little cat (names are too much work) and hides around the corner to jump her and tear asunder, little cat wets her pants. Totally understandable, but ripping through the house with a loose bladder compounds the cleanup and makes trouble for the rest of us.
I know, too much information... anyway.
bad seque back to Dia...
We knew this day was coming and now that it's actually here, that makes it even harder. She's all grown up, with a job, a life and responsibilities that do not include being squished and smashed into a two-by two space for 20 hours with her brothers.
We will miss her. But she will get her own turn to again go cross-country when Dave repeats the trek (love that trucking blood) with her in August hauling her west to school. She is certain that she will never return. Holidays will be spent there with family or with us on our vacations there and so she will probably never again return to Oklahoma. We will miss her.
Okay, now for less moribund thoughts, family are all there, all 75 of them either first or second degree relatives, giving her the third-degree. Cousins, look out, she'll be there now 24/7 and looking to be entertained.
So, Wagons Ho and off we go!
T.
This time it's sans Dia.
This was not going to be about Dia... at least not yet anyway, but I'd better get writing quickly to face that issue. It's going to take pages and pages of vituperative raging to come to terms with a daughter going off to college. I expect a fall break-down. In fact, I'll schedule it now.
Anyway, Dia is staying at home, mediating the cat fights and trying to keep the two of them from tearing each other apart and peeing throughout the house. Everytime the big cat preys on little cat (names are too much work) and hides around the corner to jump her and tear asunder, little cat wets her pants. Totally understandable, but ripping through the house with a loose bladder compounds the cleanup and makes trouble for the rest of us.
I know, too much information... anyway.
bad seque back to Dia...
We knew this day was coming and now that it's actually here, that makes it even harder. She's all grown up, with a job, a life and responsibilities that do not include being squished and smashed into a two-by two space for 20 hours with her brothers.
We will miss her. But she will get her own turn to again go cross-country when Dave repeats the trek (love that trucking blood) with her in August hauling her west to school. She is certain that she will never return. Holidays will be spent there with family or with us on our vacations there and so she will probably never again return to Oklahoma. We will miss her.
Okay, now for less moribund thoughts, family are all there, all 75 of them either first or second degree relatives, giving her the third-degree. Cousins, look out, she'll be there now 24/7 and looking to be entertained.
So, Wagons Ho and off we go!
T.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Birthdays
It's the son's birthday. Again this year. I don't do birthdays well. I don't like them. Everyone could stay the same age, year after year, and that would be fine by me. Years ago, I once again opened my big mouth and said in a fit of pique, upon feeling the burden again of having to outplan the previous birthday party again and again every year, "It makes me wish everyone had never been born."
It's tragic that I have such distaste--that it's a burden and I don't like thinking about change and everyone getting older and change and older and P.U. I just know that the never been born comment is something everyone will remember for ever. Yuck!
The first son is turning 16 and this is the banner year. The most important birthday in a young man's life, as was last year. I know driving is important... to most teens, but this one is ambiguous about that and at this rate of enthusiasm, he'll drive in the early turn of next century. We too are not real excited about adding 1600.00 annually onto the insurance bill. YAY!
His gifts were odd, things that Dad wanted for him... I might guess that they are things that Dave might want for himself if he again were 16. Headlamps, backpacks, and new hiking sandals. Ian seemed thrilled. He's such a great put-on artist.
I seem to remember that Ian's birthday is most always spent on the road. His birthdate is near or on the time when we traverse the country... so he's shorted a little... okay a lot. We yawn and holler happy birthday as we drive through Wyoming, and that's about the sum total of it.
I'll bake a cake at midnight and drag it out on the road tomorrow. Maybe that will make up for the underwear I got him.
Me,
It's tragic that I have such distaste--that it's a burden and I don't like thinking about change and everyone getting older and change and older and P.U. I just know that the never been born comment is something everyone will remember for ever. Yuck!
The first son is turning 16 and this is the banner year. The most important birthday in a young man's life, as was last year. I know driving is important... to most teens, but this one is ambiguous about that and at this rate of enthusiasm, he'll drive in the early turn of next century. We too are not real excited about adding 1600.00 annually onto the insurance bill. YAY!
His gifts were odd, things that Dad wanted for him... I might guess that they are things that Dave might want for himself if he again were 16. Headlamps, backpacks, and new hiking sandals. Ian seemed thrilled. He's such a great put-on artist.
I seem to remember that Ian's birthday is most always spent on the road. His birthdate is near or on the time when we traverse the country... so he's shorted a little... okay a lot. We yawn and holler happy birthday as we drive through Wyoming, and that's about the sum total of it.
I'll bake a cake at midnight and drag it out on the road tomorrow. Maybe that will make up for the underwear I got him.
Me,
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