Sickness, Bad for Your Health

Who likes being sick?  "Not I," said the Little Red Hen.  Well, me neither.  I've had this awful "flu-cold-thing" for four days, four long days with no signs of let-up.  And of course this is the one year that I actually got a flu shot and got it early.  Ah, the irony.  Maybe I should go back to Plan A and skip it next year for my health's sake.  It really does taking losing your health to make you appreciate being healthy.  Apparently this "thing" is going around town, and it lingers on -- for weeks.  Oh my!  Off to the doctors tomorrow.  Good health is hard to find -- and keep.

LibbY

PS Pictures omitted because they would not be pretty.

Where Were You?

A Video That You'll Never Forget

Where were you nine years ago on that fateful day of September 11, 2001?  We all remember and will always remember, even if we want nothing more than to forget.  I was at work in the legal department of Circuit City's credit card bank.  Ironically neither Circuit City nor the bank are around today, but the memories of that day will forever be burned in my mind, in all of our minds.

My fiance (now husband) Bernie called me around 8:45 AM to tell me the first tower had been hit.  It didn't even enter our minds that an attack on the second tower was imminent.  The eerie pall that came over the bank was something unlike I've ever experienced, everyone's face was ashen and incredulous.  Beyond words, people numbly scattered to their offices and cubicles, trying to make sense of a national tragedy that made no sense.  By 10:30 or 11, everyone trickled home as if by instinct...  It was a day to gather with close friends and family and wonder if you knew anyone who was in the towers, the Pentagon, or on the doomed United Flight 93.  Everything and everyone stopped in horror.

My most poignant memory was something I witnessed while watching Good Morning America two days after the 9/11 attacks.  They were filming on location near Ground Zero, randomly interviewing passers-by.  All of a sudden a teenage girl burst on the screen, shaking with nervous energy.  "Has anyone seen my father?  Has anyone seen my father?"  she shrieked.  "He worked right here.  He's got to be here somewhere.  I just can't find him anywhere."  Then she started all over again, "Has anyone seen my father?"

It was heartbreaking, one of the saddest things I've ever seen.  There was something so raw, desperate, and intimate about it that I felt awful for having witnessed it.  Her all-out panic and crazed denial 48 hours after the tragedy made me think she had yet to sleep.  I still wonder about her and hope she somehow managed to beat the overwhelming odds and find her father alive and well.

Never forget because we can't forget.


LibbY

Senior Year at Preschool

So Sam is a senior this year, his fourth and hopefully final year of preschool.  I guess he'll get to ride in the back seat of the bus, smoke cigarettes, and generally rule the school.  Oops, come to think of it, there is no bus -- this is preschool after all -- and he won't be smoking any cigarettes riding with me in the carpool line.

To give you some background, there is a phenomenon these days for boys with late birthdays to start school a year later.  Since Sam's birthday is June 23, he definitely falls into that category.  Thus, he is a "junior kindergardener" this year and will go five mornings whereas the "real" kindergardeners go five full days.  (Daze?)  People, including myself as a guilty party, often refer to the deal as "holding him back" for lack of a better term.  We all know what we mean, but back in my day it meant something bad -- you got HELD BACK!  Bad, very bad.

Since some of Sam's buddies are starting kindergarten on time, I've been a little worried that he might feel bad that he isn't quite ready for prime time.  Gosh, will it give him a complex?  What would Freud say?  I know, I know, he can tell his therapist all about it when he is 25.  Still, though, that nagging thought has lingered, especially this morning when he was staring out the window wistfully at the gaggle of kids gathered on the corner, including one of his favorite preschool friends.

Later this morning as we headed into the gym late, Sam started to complain about going to school for five whole days this year.  "It's going to be BORING," he announced as if his life was ending.

"Well," I countered, "Daddy and I saved you from going ALL DAY long for five days!  We decided to give you an extra year for building with LEGOS, having play dates, and doing fun stuff in the afternoon."

Sam started to giggle, like he knew he was getting a good deal.  (And he is, there's no doubt about it.)
Then he pondered life for a minute and suggested, "Maybe next year I can SKIP kindergarten!"

So there you go.  I'm pretty sure he's not traumatized.  He's too busy bucking the system with the Great Kindergarten Revolt.  Seriously, who drops out of school before kindergarten even starts?

Then the background starts to fade as the song "Kindergarten Drop-out" (formerly known as "Beauty School Dropout" from "Grease") starts to play....

Preschool drop-out,
No graduation day for you,
Preschool drop-out,
You lost your snack and then your glue.
Preschool drop-out...


LibbY

Wrightsville's All-Wright

OK, corny title, I know, but just couldn't resist it.  This was our first trip to Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, but hopefully not our last.  We set off on a week's notice and lucked out with a great condo with spectacular views of the sound and only a stone's throw from the ocean.  Thank you, www.VRBO.com!

I had heard so many raves about Wrightsville that I wondered if I was setting myself up for a let-down.  No sir-ee!  Wrightsville is in a really neat location.  You drive through Wilmington and cross a bridge (a functioning drawbridge!) onto Harbor Island.  Then you cross yet another bridge onto the barrier island known to us touristy folk as Wrightsville Beach (pronounced Wrights-vull by those in the know.)  Needless to say, there is waterfront property everywhere it seems with not one but two intracoastal waterways.  The outer island is a 5-mile long narrow peninsula, which is how we got so lucky being close to the sound and ocean.  In a nutshell - it's one humungous sandbar.

The beach itself is gorgeous, the water was downright warm, the breeze was refreshing, and there were some awesome waves with serious surfers riding those awesome waves.  However, it didn't take long to figure out that the undertow was really strong, and there were even riptide warning signs.  Those waves show you who's  boss - not me!  I got knocked on my keister a few times...  (How do you spell "keister" anyway?  Keyster?)

At the north end of the beach, we literally stumbled upon a protected bird sanctuary.  It was absolutely stunning and filled with seashells way better than those at the tourist trap down the street.  Here's a little friend strutting his stuff.  If I was technologically literate enough, I'd have Stephen Tyler belting out "Walk This Way" in the background right now, but we can pretend.

And here is a "bird with a view."  He's no fool.  No rent, no luggage, and no sunscreen.  Maybe I should start growing some feathers...

Thankfully there are plenty of awesome views to be had.  Here is one of my favorites

Of course we had to bring a little piece of home with us -- or lots of little pieces.  Once we were stepping on those dang LEGO bricks and wincing, we felt right at home.

Before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye.  Goodbye, dock!

Goodbye, sand!

Goodbye, beach!

It's back to land!

LibbY