Happy Halloween

Pagan Schmagan. My sisters know how to celebrate, regardless of the holiday:
That's Sister Kenneth in the middle (a.k.a. Sister Kass) and one of our secretaries, Linda, on the right. Linda's not a sister either, but we both felt like honorary ones today in our "Halloween Habits," as Sister Kass put it.

Sister Kass (dressed as The Great Pumpkin) started calling me Minnie when I hung my Twins poster up at the end of last season. Naturally, I started calling her Saint Paul. I told her that "Sister Saint Paul" was redundant. She said it was an oxy moron.

Not to be outdone, our service dog, Newey, also dressed as The Great Pumpkin:

Don't vote?

Videos like these make me wish I was going to teach American Government instead of English:





Click here to visit the link in the videos and find out where you vote.

Think Globally, Buy Locally

I've read several articles lately about how buying locally grown foods is better for the environment than buying organically grown ones (unless, of course, you're lucky enough to find foods that are both).

This site is a great resource from the Natural Resources Defense Council to help determine which foods are grown locally in your area. That doesn't mean that all the apples sold in Maryland in late-October were grown here, but at least it ups the odds.

Crab, glorious crab

No sooner do my parents leave Maryland than our dear friend, Jessica, and her parents come for a visit. Who knew Maryland was such a tourist hot spot?!

We took Jessica and her parents to our new favorite seafood place, and I've never seen Jessica's parents so excited. "This place is great!" her dad exclaimed over and over (while schmoozing with the staff, naturally). Here's some proof that they made the most of their visit:

Nothing brings two Minnesotans, a Pittsburgh transplant and two relatively new Marylanders together like a picnic-table full of crab! A few good beers always helps, too.

Bye, bye, tree

There used to be a beautiful old oak tree in our back yard. It was home to several squirrels and other critters; it provided shade in the summer and was a blanket in winter. Then, with hardly any notice, two men came and cut it down one day last week.

Granted, it was fascinating to watch the guys remove it, and Barley was captivated:
But it was so sad to see the stump they left behind:
It reminded me of The Giving Tree, and I felt so sorry for the tree. If you watch this video with the sound on, you can hear not only how upset Barley is, but also how angry the squirrels are that they have to find a new home.



"Once there was a tree... and she loved a little dog."

"Life is a Battlefield"

During my parents' visit, those words were more than a paraphrased 1980's power ballad. My dad, the Civil War teacher and general history buff, took us to Antietam battlefield in western Maryland. I love education masked as a day trip to a cornfield.

Dunker Church, strategically located up on a hill and therefore fought over by the Union and Confederacy (two dudes out front not historically accurate):
A memorial to the fallen soldiers from Maryland:
The obligatory "Civil War cannons on the battlefield" picture:
Clara Barton was one of many women on the battlefield in Antietam. Some were disguised as men so they could fight. Others, like Ms. Barton, whose efforts to aid the suffering laid the groundwork for the American Red Cross, were considered "angels of the battlefield." This is a memorial to Ms. Barton, complete with a red cross made from parts of the chimney of her childhood home:
Thousands of soldiers died in the field below, which was full of corn before the battle began. Over the course of that September day, the corn went from a thick field to completely mowed down from the guns and canons firing. Soldiers were firing at each other at point-blank range. Some companies had a more than 80% fatality rate. One soldier's beloved Newfoundland dog was among the casualties, found draped across his master's body, trying to protect him after he was fatally shot.
The Civil War saw the first battles fought using trench warfare, which would become commonplace by World War I. The Confederate soldiers lay in wait in this trench, coined "Bloody Lane," while the Union soldiers marched toward them. They could hear their steps growing closer, but were told to wait to fire until they saw "the eagles on their buttons."
Our final stop that day was to the famous bridge named for General Burnside (who may be remembered more for his distinctive facial hair, or "sideburns"). The Confederate soldiers waited on the bluff for the Union soldiers as they tried to cross the bridge. Soldiers slipped down the banks of the river and were fired upon as they scrambled over each other up the muddy banks.

Good Times in Intercourse

Intercourse, Pennsylvania, that is.
My parents were visiting this last week, and we took a few day trips together. Matt and I have lived out here for nearly three years, and I think we did more traveling and sightseeing in the week my parents were here than in the three years since we moved here.

One of our trips was to Intercourse, Pennsylvania. The town used to be called Cross Keys, but they renamed it. Go figure. During our trip, we also drove through towns called Bird-in-hand and Blue Balls. Crazy Pennsylvanians. And I thought the Minnesota towns named Fertile and Climax were bad. Just to prove that we didn't just make this up...

You can "Mount Hope" in Intercourse:
Or play with some jugs...
After a brief stint in Intercourse, we headed further into Amish Country. We visited an Amish furniture store with some very unique merchandise:
And my mom took us on a side trip to Ephrata, Pennsylvania, where she found more Amish crafts and made a fabulous fashion statement:
Blue is definitely her color. During our time in Ephrata, we visited the "Ephrata Cloister," home to a group of people who were celibate. They had some beautiful surroundings, but must have had one heck of a frustrating existence.
Big surprise...their population died out. Beautiful irony...their celibate commune was located just outside the town of Intercourse.

Wordless Wednesday

Yikes...

Living History

A while back, I wrote about what progress we've made in this country recently. I'm so proud to be living in this era so alive with the anticipation of change and so filled with demonstrations of our potential for great progress. I often wonder how I'll describe this particular moment in time with my children and their children.

Then, I hear stories like this one, and I realize that, in my very short and sheltered lifetime, I've really seen nothing at all. Regardless of how this election turns out, I hope Mrs. Cooper makes it to November 4th.

Many Years Ago...

Twenty-some years ago, two moms made their children--a little boy and little girl--join children's choir at Immanuel Lutheran Church. The girl always sat in the front row, mouth open wide, singing all the words. The little boy sat in the back, playing with his choir robe, shoving the other boys. The girl was a smartypants and didn't have time for the boy's antics. The boy was a year older than the girl and thought himself to be much cooler.

The parents of the boy and the girl were good friends, so the boy and the girl knew each other as they grew up and moved on from children's choir. The boy wrestled and was his team's captain; the girl starred in plays and was section leader in band. Eventually, when the boy and girl were in high school, the boy's family decided to join another church. The boy left and the girl didn't see him for many years.

After high school, both the boy and the girl decided to go to college in the Fargo, ND/Moorhead, MN area. The girl went to Concordia (Fear the Ear), and the boy went to NDSU (Go, Bison). They never saw each other, even though the boy's roommate dated one of the girl's roommates. Then, in August of 2001, the girl was celebrating a friend's birthday at a bar that she didn't really like (she was still a smartypants who wasn't a fan of antics) and the boy was there with some friends (still goofing around). They had a "you look familiar," "where do I know you from?"
conversation until they remembered children's choir, their white robes with red bows, and running through the church. They began to spend more and more time together, reconnecting as old acquaintances, then connecting as friends.

On November 4th of that year--the girl's birthday--she realized that the boy from children's choir was more than just an old acquaintance or new friend. The girl is a bit obsessed about her birthday, and out of the blue, the boy remembered to call. This is no small miracle, considering the dates that have slipped the boy's mind since then. After that particular November 4th, however, she couldn't stop talking about the boy, and a roommate asked, "When are you going to stop pretending that he's just a friend?"

On October 15, 2005, back at the same church where they sang together in children's choir years before, the boy and girl were married...


Three years later and hundreds of miles from that church in Minnesota, they're still living happily ever after.

I love you, Matty! Happy anniversary.

Congratulations, Mike and Sarah!

One of our very best friends, Mike, recently popped the question to his girlfriend, Sarah. Well done, Mikey! Sarah is an amazing girl, and Matt and I are thrilled that she knows you as well as we do and still loves you. Seriously, though, she's very, very lucky.

In honor of Mikey's big news, here are a few of my favorite Mikey memories:

• In downtown Minneapolis, while pretending to push nerdy glasses up his nose, Mikey said "Rachel Berg" in a nerdy, nasily voice over and over and over. It drove me crazy at the time, but I love it when he does it now.
• Soon after we moved to Baltimore, Mikey was one of the first people to come visit us. Since then, he's been our only friend to come visit us twice. He brought Sarah the second time, and I'm so glad we had a chance to get to know her better.
• When we still lived in Minneapolis, Mikey dragged us to Microcenter I don't know how many times. I called it "Nerd Warehouse" and mocked him mercilessly, but Mikey didn't care.
• Also while we were still living in Minneapolis, and before Mike met Sarah, Matt and I spent almost all our free time with Mike. I joked that I had two boyfriends. We went out together all the time, including to the movies, where Mike taught me how to play Time Crisis 3...with a gun.
  
• Mikey is a big fan of Ben's Chili Bowl in D.C. He's a brutha at heart.
• When we got married, Mikey got us a picture frame with a picture of him wearing nothing but his duck hunting hip waders. Enough said.

Short story long, Mikey is one of our very best friends and we love him terribly. It's obvious how much he and Sarah care about each other, and we couldn't be happier for them.

John McCain, you are no friend of mine

John McCain used the phrase "my friends" or "my friend" 23 times in last night's debate. For heaven's sake, he only said "earmark" five times. But John McCain and I are not friends. In fact, I suspect he is not friends with a majority of the people who watched or listened to the debate last night. I find that type of forced casual dialogue interminably patronizing. It reminds me of the sales clerk who uses my first name after reading it on my credit card. "Thanks, Rachel," she says. "I'm sorry," I want to reply. "Have we been introduced?"

Congratulations, Anna!

My brilliant friend, Anna, passed the bar exam! Well done, gorgeous.

What a year! Anna graduated from law school, married her Toddie, went on (actually, is on) an amazing Costa Rican adventure honeymoon, and passed the bar. Wow. I'm exhausted just typing it; I can't imagine living it.

Tagged

Even though this is kind of like a blogosphere email forward, I can't turn down anything from Rebecca. She was kind enough to tag me, and I do love to talk about myself. With that said...

1. I love kids. I'm not a big fan of infants, but they're great once they're old enough to carry on a conversation. And once they get old enough to carry on an intellectual conversation, I can't get enough.

2. I work in PR, but I hate it. Ok, hate is a strong word. I seriously dislike the communications profession. I don't like talking to the media, and I can't handle people asking me to edit something, then complaining when I change it.

3. Since 1 + 2 = 3, it makes sense that I leave the communications profession and work with kids. I started working toward my teaching certification this fall, and I spend all my free time writing lesson plans and thinking about "reading and writing strategies in the content areas." Keep your fingers crossed that I'll be in a classroom by this time next year.

4. I know Rebecca through work. We both worked with Anna back when it was still cool to work at the Attorney General's office.

5. Aside from my family and all the lakes, the thing I miss most about living in Minnesota is Caribou Coffee. I drink it at least 2-3 times each day when I'm home.

6. I'm not a big fan of Halloween, because it infringes on my birthday. But I love, love, love Christmas. In fact, I'm debating whether or not it's too soon to start listening to Christmas music at work. My parents' house is featured on the Christmas lights tours each year, and my dad was a finalist for a reality show about "exterior holiday illumination."

7. I'm nuts about history and culture. My idea of the perfect weekend is exploring a battlefield or getting lost in a museum.

Anna (I don't care if Rebecca just tagged you)
Julia
Abbi
Kimmy
Missy
Maria
Kristine (specifically, her awesome weight loss journey!)

Weekend adventure

Last night, Matt and I went looking for a hole-in-the-wall seafood restaurant that one of his coworkers told him about, and we wound up turned around in the twisty back roads of Maryland. One of times we had to backtrack, we turned around at a horse farm, and I made Matt pull over at the end of the driveway to take a picture of this sign:

As if that sign alone wasn't grounds for a great evening (though, yes, it should caution drivers to go "slowly"), we saw a sign just past it for a local dog agility team:

Right under that was a sign for "Kinderpup," Barley's obedience school. We knew our crazy dog trainer lived out in the country, but what are the odds that we'd pick her driveway to turn around in? So crazy.

We finally made it to the restaurant after a few more twists and turns, and it was completely worth the time and effort. These are the remnants of our feast:

Mmm...I can still taste the Old Bay.

Most of our best memories together haven't been made while spending a lot of money, but rather in our everyday, ordinary adventures together. I'll remember stumbling on our crazy dog trainer's house and stuffing ourselves with seafood more fondly than I'll remember some of our priciest vacations.

Whose coatings?

It's kind of hard to tell, because this photo was taken with my crummy camera phone (yes, at a stoplight), but it appears that the coatings belong to Barrett's son. It also appears that Mr. or Ms. Barrett does is involved in some sort of dealings with the son's coatings. That conjures up all sorts of wonderful mental images, doesn't it?

(Edit: I guess it's hard to tell that the truck says Barrett and Son's, not Barrett and Sons. Barrett and the one son may very well own the coatings, but I doubt it.)

Fun with punctuation (yes, that's possible)

I was reading the National Education Association web site yesterday (partially for ideas, partially just for fun), and I came across these great sentence-punctuating activities for students (or all of us). I'm still laughing.

Punctuate the following:
1. a clever dog knows its master
2. i saw a man eating lobster
3. the butler stood in the doorway and called the guests names
4. [a want ad] WANTED: piano to replace daughters lost in fire
5. [a newspaper headline] father to be stabbed to death in street
6. [a book dedication] to my parents the pope and mother teresa

Answers:
1. A clever dog knows its master. NOT: A clever dog knows it's master. (Read: Barley)
2. I saw a man eating lobster. NOT: I saw a man-eating lobster.
3. The butler stood in the doorway and called the guests' names. NOT: The butler stood in the doorway and called the guests names.
4. WANTED: piano to replace daughter's lost in fire. NOT: WANTED: piano to replace daughters lost in fire.
5. Father-to-be stabbed to death in street. NOT: Father to be stabbed to death in street.
6. To my parents, the Pope, and Mother Teresa. NOT: To my parents, the Pope and Mother Teresa.

Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't also mention my personal favorite, which the NEA seems to have overlooked:

Punctuate:
a woman without her man is nothing

Answer:
A woman: without her, man is nothing. NOT: A woman, without her man, is nothing.

Voting gives me a warm fuzzy

And stories and images such as these from today's Washington Post just about move me to tears:

"In Columbus, college students pitched tents overnight so they could be first to vote. Advocates in Cleveland shuttled voters from homeless shelters to the polls. In Akron, voters arrived as soon as the doors were unlocked and waited in folding chairs for their turn."

Voting groupies! These are my kind of people. I get an adrenaline rush every time I cast my ballot, even in off years or primary races. There's something about the process that just plain does it for me. Then again, I would also be a permanent juror if Anne Arundel County would let me.

Mmm...the democratic process.

Aahhh...the judicial system.