Thursday, March 11, 2010
Moche Warrior Woman (tattooed Mummy) Lecture
On March 8th we attended an excellent Lecture at UAH on a Peruvian mummy. The speaker John Verano is a self proclaimed "bone guy" (a physical anthropologist) - discussed the excavation and study of a mummy buried with a fantastic array of artifacts. Clint is a bit of a Egyptophile, so you can imagine we've seen a lot of material on Egyptian Mummies, so I really enjoyed the uniqueness of the Peruvian burial. In addition to the clubs, spear throwers, plate mail the mummy "burrito" contained some of the most beautiful metal work. Our favorite artifacts were the beautiful intricate nose pieces made with gold and silver. The mummy was featured in National Geographic: Mummy of the Tattoo Woman
Sunday, March 7, 2010
After We Moved to Alabama
Before 'Bama
After Florida
By 2007 with the end of the building phase of the ISS in site, went took a new job to work on the Ares rocket in Huntsville, Alabama. Our two youngest girls and I arrived in Huntsville in December of 07, seven months later, their rooms were empty. Our oldest was in college in Florida, our middle daughter was on her way to the Air force and our youngest was taking her first steps toward living on her own.
A new era began for my husband and I - we experienced for the first time to be a modified childless couple. Suddenly we could do things together, without the input of a committee. I am going to start with a partial list of the things we found to do - I plan to create entries with photos for our favorite activities.
Click on the Menu items on the top of the page to see some of the things I plan to write about.
Afternoon Walk
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxuQ1sZFwieYQs85OJpVubXEfs6aJUp4V3nRC9I6fhu0Vh3P38CbcHeKwwmRIbQstmGy_PUtWdtCcuaCazI-N9wUXr4aMqC5xXoXHXZiz2pDprEpkC5iL7EYyuE8NHGlA4dNf1oO7ndw/s200/ducks2.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84h_TUe4rYLuPMxLZ5JNyk3vYdZx5k_nZ8AIUYv4FM9LBtMZQy9VVIdfOP2ASlNmxwkOjqbGFWGbzi0Y1L7SsVMaxcaYVq0y7Qy4HkUxIAKHajtLgV6OvS-_JxxtoUS9blqzb-m0rNZM/s200/ducks.jpg)
When the girls were little, Clint and I used to go to the day old bread store and get a few loaves of bread for the ducks in Lake Fenwick. I don't remember what the girls thought of the park or the ducks but I know our family dog had a few ideas about what to do with ducks. Clint and I have revived the practice of feeding the birds - our dogs think visiting Big Spring Park to see the birds is great fun - even though I only let them chase the pigeons.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
After High School Sports
I have never been much of a sports fan, but when my oldest played varsity basketball, going to games started to be fun. My husband and I spent several evenings a week at games around the county. Date night consisted of concession hot dogs and a live basketball, volleyball or soccer game. I never imagined I'd miss the ritual of going to games - but I do. I miss cheering for my girls, and I miss sitting in the stands with my husband as he played bleacher coach.
Not long after we moved to Huntsville, my husband took me to a Huntsville Havoc hockey game. I know I was a wet blanket, I didn't like the noise, I was cold and I didn't care for the crowd. I didn't care for the verbal banter of the fans, hockey just doesn't follow good sportsmanship rules. I needed to relax a little, enter 2 dollar beer night. My husband's idea of date night - two dollar beers and dollar hot dogs. The beer helped, I let the stress of my day go and joined the chanting of the fans in our section. I was born again as a hockey fan.
I am still learning the rules of the game. It wasn't until over Christmas break 2009, that my oldest daughter told me what I was supposed to yell after the Havoc make a goal. It is: "We are going to beat the hell out of you, and you and you and you and you." I have learned enough terms that I can yell at the refs, and call icing, off sides, and diving.
Not long after we moved to Huntsville, my husband took me to a Huntsville Havoc hockey game. I know I was a wet blanket, I didn't like the noise, I was cold and I didn't care for the crowd. I didn't care for the verbal banter of the fans, hockey just doesn't follow good sportsmanship rules. I needed to relax a little, enter 2 dollar beer night. My husband's idea of date night - two dollar beers and dollar hot dogs. The beer helped, I let the stress of my day go and joined the chanting of the fans in our section. I was born again as a hockey fan.
I am still learning the rules of the game. It wasn't until over Christmas break 2009, that my oldest daughter told me what I was supposed to yell after the Havoc make a goal. It is: "We are going to beat the hell out of you, and you and you and you and you." I have learned enough terms that I can yell at the refs, and call icing, off sides, and diving.
After Chauffeuring Retirement
According to payscale.com a chauffeur with 4-10 years of experience should make close to $20 an hour. I started my chauffeuring career about 1994, driving to birthday parties and to the roller rink. Basketball games came next, then band practice, track, volleyball and eventually to part time jobs. You can't leave out driving to school, because everyone knows you can't take your tenor sax on the bus. With three busy girls, I often put drove more than 80 miles a day between their schools and home.
The day my oldest was old enough I took her to get her permit. I wanted to end the "driver" phase of my life as soon as possible. My dreams didn't all come true the day she turned 16. Grounding, engine trouble and eventually a car accident put my first young driver back in my passenger seat. The second was reluctant to get her permit, then struggled to finally pass her drivers exam but by her senior year was able to drive her self. My youngest was still asking for rides well after she was out of school. She was afraid to get her license, and I was afraid I'd be driving her to work when she was thirty.
"The Car Plan," had always gone like this: Earn some money for a car, and I will match what you've saved and you can get a car worth twice what you saved. Plans are funny - because they don't go the way you well, plan them. Number one daughter didn't save any money, she just kept asking me to take her to work and then pick her up at the end of her shift (midnight). I felt used and finally I told her she was getting a crappy car and she could pay me back for her half.
Number two daughter followed the plan, and got a car. Passing the test was the hard part.
Number three daughter didn't look like she was going to ever stop asking for rides. When she finished school, I went back to work but she still needed someone to come get her to take her to work. She didn't have a car fund when I just bought her a car so I could worry about my own job. I just had to hope she'd pay her half back. So far, it doesn't look good. At least I've been able to hang up my chauffeur hat.
The day my oldest was old enough I took her to get her permit. I wanted to end the "driver" phase of my life as soon as possible. My dreams didn't all come true the day she turned 16. Grounding, engine trouble and eventually a car accident put my first young driver back in my passenger seat. The second was reluctant to get her permit, then struggled to finally pass her drivers exam but by her senior year was able to drive her self. My youngest was still asking for rides well after she was out of school. She was afraid to get her license, and I was afraid I'd be driving her to work when she was thirty.
"The Car Plan," had always gone like this: Earn some money for a car, and I will match what you've saved and you can get a car worth twice what you saved. Plans are funny - because they don't go the way you well, plan them. Number one daughter didn't save any money, she just kept asking me to take her to work and then pick her up at the end of her shift (midnight). I felt used and finally I told her she was getting a crappy car and she could pay me back for her half.
Number two daughter followed the plan, and got a car. Passing the test was the hard part.
Number three daughter didn't look like she was going to ever stop asking for rides. When she finished school, I went back to work but she still needed someone to come get her to take her to work. She didn't have a car fund when I just bought her a car so I could worry about my own job. I just had to hope she'd pay her half back. So far, it doesn't look good. At least I've been able to hang up my chauffeur hat.
After Teen Room
My youngest daughter is getting married in a week. I am finally getting around to painting her old room. I have long had designs on making it my "media room," but the transition has been slow.
My kids didn't clear their rooms out when they left, they left a mess. So, it was like they were still there. After 10 months asking, nagging, and begging my daughter to sort her things in to, "take", "store", and "give away" I gave up and did it myself.
Sorting the things she left behind was like looking through the tailings of a mine, a lot of things that didn't matter, with the occasional diamond. I saved mementos representing memories that I wasn't willing to let go of, that I hope my daughter would one day appreciate. The exercise was emotional and cathartic. The experience reminds me that it was easier for my daughter to move forward into her new life than for me to let go of her old one.
I've made progress, the first coat of paint has dried and I don't find myself crying as I sit front of the closet holding onto a piece of my daughter's childhood.
Tighten logic with malleable spanners
My kids didn't clear their rooms out when they left, they left a mess. So, it was like they were still there. After 10 months asking, nagging, and begging my daughter to sort her things in to, "take", "store", and "give away" I gave up and did it myself.
Sorting the things she left behind was like looking through the tailings of a mine, a lot of things that didn't matter, with the occasional diamond. I saved mementos representing memories that I wasn't willing to let go of, that I hope my daughter would one day appreciate. The exercise was emotional and cathartic. The experience reminds me that it was easier for my daughter to move forward into her new life than for me to let go of her old one.
I've made progress, the first coat of paint has dried and I don't find myself crying as I sit front of the closet holding onto a piece of my daughter's childhood.
Tighten logic with malleable spanners
Labels:
"40 something",
"empty nest",
childhood,
loss,
parenthood
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