In which Sarajoy has a good day, FINALLY!

Since last we spoke, we've decorated our wild little tree. And it looks elegant and homey.

I attended a Story Telling workshop by Rocci and Rita, two favorite people at the UU church. I adore stories. Anyone who's known me for five minutes knows that I love to tell stories and I become most engrossed in conversation when someone else is telling me a story. So whether or not I learned anything, I love listening to and telling stories, so it was an uplifting couple of hours. It was a workshop in hopes of training people to read or tell really good stories at church. However, while there, I was asked to give a Solstice talk at church in a few weeks. This is the most perfect topic for me and I already have a lot to say about it and some of you may have already heard my spiels on that! I'll have to edit down. But mostly I'm extremely honored by and scared of this exciting task.

And the kids met their new favorite babysitter today. They are already begging me for her to come again. YES!!! This girl is Punky Brewster redux who sews her own clothes and wears them: kimonos, hats with cat ears and a tail on her pants, torn tights, big puffy sleeves attached to nothing, and a million jangling accessories. Apparently she told them all about their astrological signs today. Her mom's an astrologer we know from the UU church.

So, meanwhile, Huck was up at Mission Ridge doing the Ski Instructor training. They have no snow, so they skied down a strip of imported snow in the middle of the non-snowy woods. FREAKY!! He'd work Saturdays for $35, plus ski-hill beni's. It'd be a good deal if we all had ski equipment, but we don't. So $50 season lift tickets don't do us much good. It may be more hassle than it's worth, at least for me and the kids. Huck however, may think it's the best idea since substitute teaching!

Right now, he's playing with a swing band at a private swing party. Tomorrow he'll play with the Big Band at a (semi?)Pro-Hockey game. I hope he can get us in for free! The team is called the Wenatchee Wild (a better name for a team there never was!), and it's members were all born between 1989 and 1991, which makes me feel old.

Blue sang in the choir at the Flake Festival tonight (A Worse name for a festival there never was! Wenatchee apparently had VERY inconsistent naming quality control).
She wore a little Christmas tree over her hat and performed some classics: Rudolph, Feliz Navidad, Jiggle Bell Rock, Joy to the World, et al. I wasn't sure about her choir teacher, but now I am sure: he's very cool. The other school had recorded music with kids singing on it so that you couldn't hear the real kids. But Mr. B had a guitar and the kids sang loud and clear. And then they marched in the little 15 minute parade. We all marched behind them. Coyote got to wave to a friend on the sidewalk. This town can't be all bad, if I've been here less than six months and I already got to be in a parade! As many of you know, I am a parade fanatic. My final thesis paper for my college education was a 115 page treatise on protest/march art, which was 50% comparative history of parades. I ADORE parades.

Between the stories and the parades, I can't think of a day I'd rather have had. I certainly felt entitled to it. For however bad some other days have been recently, I am going to make damn sure I enjoy the heck out of my good days.

Here's a video of Coyote eating hot chocolate this evening.

Like an iPod

Blue dredged up an old Walkman from the Goodwill bag near the door tonight. I am embarrassed to admit I still had it. She listened to a few stories on tape: I have those too! And then her friend called.
To hear her describe the Walkman, it's actually more current than an iPod. She said, "It's kind of like an iPod, only you put these things in it, these rectangular CD's. Yeah," She says real cool, "That is what I'm doing right now."

Coyote was too excited for Christmas to sleep tonight, he claimed. And he lead us all with a singing of "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." He actually pointed to us when he wanted us to join in. Oh, I hear him now. I guess he IS too excited to sleep. Shit.
He wrote a letter to Santa tonight, "Dear Santa, I wonder what I want for Christmas. I love you."

Sucker Punched

I just got the breath knocked out of me.

Huck's not eligible for unemployment. After all his work for WSU. And an extended decision making process by the state.

As with most graduate students, he worked as a TA his first semester: 2-3 courses. He then, as usual, worked as a Research Assistant. But his adviser ran out of funds. So he continued with the RA which was necessary for the degree and he also took on TA work to pay for the degree: again 2-3 courses. In spite of this, he excelled to the top of his class and made time for his family. He completed the degree one semester early. But WSU's accounting is...well... "differently-abled." So despite working two 20 hr/wk jobs for them for 18 months, they never paid into unemployment. Maybe that's common. But today, it feels like extraordinarily depraved behavior.

I don't know if, or ever, his summer fruit-picking or substitute teaching will become part of the "Unemployment" Equation.

And remember, when you see those unemployment numbers, they don't apparently include unemployed recent grads, or people who've worked for Universities.

If that school ever thinks they are getting the slightest penny of a donation, if we ever get the ability to do that, they are mistaken.

I don't think I'll recommend public universities to my kids. Neither Huck nor I have received the least bit of employment help. They staff their "Career Centers" with 18 year-olds on work-study.

As you can imagine, with my over-active sense of justice, I feel RATHER ILL right now.

I caught myself recommending that a woman I know here keep working on her college degree. And then I changed course, mid-conversation. Right now education is not a sure bet, it's an extremely expensive risk, in my experience.

In brighter news, though now eclipsed: We chopped down our tree last night. Five bucks, a map, a pink puff ball sunset, and a little mountain drive = one beautiful, fragrant Douglass Fir posing by the "fire."

And also, I get to call Bingo tonight at a fundraiser for Blue's school. I get to call it in Espanol!

And this week I joined the Raven Writer's Group. My first ever such foray into that sort of thing and it felt good, good people, good times. We'll see. I'm not all that in to JOINING much of anything (except the UU church).

And we have received the compassion of our friends and family recently, though not by our almae matres. And our spirits have been lifted, subsequently smashed, but I'm sure that's not permanent.

Review

I hope you experienced an unforgettable Thanksgiving, filled to the brim of your cornucopia with thanks and giving and food and family and all that.

We traveled to Salem, Oregon where my parents are currently located. Our journey took us through many a thick fog bank and through parts of Oregon, we know not what or where, because we were LOST for most of our journey. It was dark. Map Quest directions made no sense. So I gave up on them, though that was not a democratically made decision. Huck finally volunteered to ask for directions.

My parents are living in a rental in HARD CORE suburbia. In hopes of moving into their new house soon, they are living out of boxes. My sister was able to come up from Oakland, where she recently moved to from San Francisco. (My brother can psychologically make but one I-5 trip per year, which he has to ration, and will use it for Christmas, so we missed him.) We are all so utterly unsettled at this point, that more than a few times various family members, including myself, could be heard to say, "What city are we in, again?"

My parent's attempt to purchase a foreclosing home has turned into a crime-novel-esc plot. The seller's agent is involved in a scam with some scammy guy. And all the e-mails have been lies lies lies. Now these scammers face imminent arrests. The scammy guys were telling them that the bank needed $60k more to close the deal, however the guy was just trying to get more money out of them. CRAZY!!

We played full contact basketball. Boys against Girls. But my dad is 6'3" and it's hard to get a rebound around THAT. And my husband is a dingo-like, tricky, ball thief, so Girls only made 1 basket. That was me, of course. But only because the Boys let me. We tried playing HORSE, but that's a long game when NO ONE can make a basket.

PHOTOS: Blue on bike rack in Fog, kids and hot chocolate in cafe, wave washed over cliff, sand dune. Video of giant waves.



And then there was the beach on Saturday. This proposal won out over the idea that we should all tour Oregon's quaintest little small town, which everyone seems to have forgotten is where my EX-husband lives. Which isn't a big deal. It's just, of all the options, why that one?

The beach was WILD. 20 foot waves, at least. I've never seen the ocean so worked up. It seemed vicious and angry. Waves were actually crashing over a 100 foot tall rock! And a few times big ones snuck up on us and we got wet. I've been playing in the Pacific since I was a mere babe, just imported from Saskatchewan. Until recently I've never heard of "sneaker waves." But this year, I've heard of several people being suddenly swept out to sea. Well Saturday, that seemed incredibly likely. And it did happen. At a beach we were at, just after we left. A 22 year old woman was swept out. Of all the days I've seen that body of water, that was one where I believe it really could take a person off the shore by will.

We also found an amazing tall dune on the beach. The kids were able to climb it and run down, although it was rather steep. But in soft sand, who cares?

And we visited Huck's dad for a minute or two in Snohomish, for his 60th birthday.
And then we drove back in thick fog. And here I am, living to tell about it, although I did have my doubts this would be the result.