Back in Delaware

Slowly, but surely, I am acquiring a social life. Not only are we friends with the University carpenters, who keep having to come fix things in our house, but we have our swim team buddies, with whom we chat more and more (there's a certain punchiness at 5:00 A.M.). Superman has his research group, and I have my friends at the co-op. We're going to a party next door on Friday, and to a research group party Sunday. I have plans to visit a contact at St. Andrew's, where they filmed Dead Poets Society, in January, and I have even enrolled in a class: History of Rock. I have high expectations for this academic experience. Will there be in-class performances? Will we study Wilco or Bob Mould? I chose the class based on the high recommendation of one of our movers, a student here, who raved about it. I've confirmed with other students that it's very popular, so it will be like shopping at Abercrombie--I will feel "in," even if I'm not. Other than choosing it 'cause it's cool, I was attracted by the fact that it's not too long (an hour a day would be preferable, but it's one hour, thirty minutes. I balked at the class that was three times a week for three hours. I'm too old to do that, and what would I do at the breaks? It did occur to me that there might be a final. But I figure since I got a 98% the last time I took a test for traffic school, I should be OK.

So all's well in Delaware. Poppette the Rockette may soon have a buddy other than her "mom"; we want to get another kitten after the holidays. We really want a lab puppy, but we need to wait till we're more mature. We have the advantage of regular phone and email contact with our families and friends, too, so we feel connected to those who know us best even as we forge new friendships, and we're looking forward to Christmas in California.

Merry, merry!

Holidays in the City

I'll take any excuse to go into New York City, particularly when I can write off the train ticket. I met my friend and creative director, Heather, at the StoreExpo conference last week, and got to enjoy her company, as well as the company of my college friend Amy and her husband and baby, and my college friend Laura, who hosted me most of the week. After a day in the Bronx with Amy and family (boy, that kid's a fast crawler!), I spent a day at Javits Convention Center, hearing a great keynote on marketing strategy and how retailing is changing, and visiting exhibitor booths. The best part was unexpected: We got to visit retail showrooms in New York City and meet with the salespeople there. We saw some amazing new products, met some great people, and got some ideas (mostly for Heather) about things to use for trade show booths, store design, and merchandising. They even fed us! We concluded our day with friends Laura, Amy L., Hao, and Inna at Shebeen in NoLIta, followed by dinner at Lombardi's, the best pizza place in Manhattan.

The conference also supplied us with a magazine featuring cool store spaces around the city. We spent the following day wandering around Fifth Avenue (after an important stop for brunch at Friend of A Farmer near Gramercy Park, and a walk around the park, thanks to Heather's friend Inna, whose building has a key). Our favorite store decorations were at Henri Bendel, with a whacked-out Alice in Wonderland and rabbit heads on mannequins, painted gold. Heather had been graciously invited to the Empire State Building office of Ronnette Riley, a famous architect whom she worked with on the design of the Apple store in SoHo, so we visited there before a party on the Upper West Side.

We spent Friday at the ABC Store in Union Square. They have have three restaurants there! The store is phenomenal. We went from there to Time Warner Center, where there's a Bouchon and a Bouchon Bakery (mmm), then to Lincoln Center for the New York City Ballet's Nutcracker. With visions of sugarplums dancing in our heads, we called it a night early.

Saturday, Superman met me in the city, and after brunch at Jane, we wandered around SoHo and the West Village, met Laura and her sister to shop at the Young Designer's Boutique, checked out the East Village, and finished Part A of the tour in Union Square. We headed uptown to Central Park, which is romantic and lovely during the holiday season. There's nothing quite like standing next to Wollman Rink, looking up at the bare branches of trees framed by tall buildings, with the lights from Tavern on the Green in the distance. Ahh.

We left the park reluctantly and entered the Fifth Avenue fray. We'll never do it again, but Superman had to see the holiday decorations once in his life. After a walk-by of the tree and ice rink at Rockefeller Center, we'd had enough, but took a fatigued jaunt through Times Square, just to give Superman the complete experience. We ended at Da Enzo, home of the best gelato in New York City, near Penn Station at 494 9th at 39th. After a lovely dinner, we sent Laura to a holiday party and settled into seats on the Wilmington-bound Amtrak, headed home to our cat and Christmas tree.

Welcoming the Holidays

As BostonErin's Fab Husband would say, "You can't swing a dead cat"...without hitting a holiday event in our area. On Saturday, after being awakened by a real, very alive cat still thrilled to be home from the vet (she appears to have learned how to meow; how delightful), Superman and I perused Spark, the free weekly newsmagazine available at newsstands around town, to determine which of the twenty nearby historical sites, decorated for the holidays, to visit. We decided upon the Hale-Byrnes house, whose only open house day was Saturday, the Chaddsford Winery (actually in Pennsylvania), and the Brandywine Museum (also in Pennsylvania). We figured we could also fit in a Christmas tree purchase and a trip to Trader Joe's. Aggressive, as Superbro would say.

Because we were planning to participate in the First Annual Reindeer Race in Newark at 6:30 P.M. we had to get a move on. We hit the Hale-Byrnes house first, as it is just a few miles from our house and on the way to our other attractions. We walked in as a fife and drum band, dressed in Revolutionary War style, began playing Christmas carols. Totally cute. We decided that if I need more activities in Delaware, I could play drums in the fife and drum corps. Matt got a real kick out of imagining himself saying to people, "Gosh, we'd love to come to dinner on Saturday, but Katie's got a gig with the fife and drum band at a Revolutionary War battle re-enactment." I must be clear; I am not making fun of battle re-enactments; they fascinate me. But the image of myself dressed like George Washington, spending Saturday at one, playing marches, just sends me into hysterics.

But I digress. The Hale Byrnes house is on the banks of the Delaware River and the site of George Washington's meeting with Captain Kirkwood and some of his other top officials prior to the Battle of the Brandywine. George was there, actually-well, someone was impersonating him. There were some other Revolutionary-era ladies, too. Everyone was very friendly; we had hot cider and cookies and chatted with folks. A woman about my age asked, "So, how did you hear about us?" I replied, "Oh, I found a flyer somewhere, and we live right near here." She said, "Cool. I live here." No way. She lives in the historic house! So cool. I was beside myself. She was thrilled to be talking to people her own age, and we were thrilled to meet a nice person...who lives in a historic house!

After a few fife and drum carols, we headed out for our next stop. Every Christmas tree farm we passed, we missed, due to late sign-spotting, so we gave up on that and headed to Chadds Ford. Unfortunately, we also saw Chaddsford Winery too late. We'll go back--maybe once our supply from Trader Joe's runs dry. There's a Brandywine Valley wine trail that could provide some entertainment in the cold winter months. Instead, we gave into our hunger pangs and had lunch at Hank's, "Where hungry people eat, and friendly people meet." We did make it to the Brandywine River Museum, home to works of art by the Wyeth family. They have a holiday train display that fills a room and is fabulous. They also have a dollhouse. The setting is on the banks of the Brandywine River, utilizing lots of brick, glass, and old wood, and it's just gorgeous.

We did hit Trader Joe's on the way back, but no Christmas tree was purchased. When we got home, we rested up for our run. We joined 200 of Newark's runners a half-block from our house, signed up, attached our race numbers and jingle bells, waved to YouDee, the UD mascot (a blue hen), and took off running. The 5K utilized a fantastic running and biking trail in town that we hadn't tried yet--now we have a great, car-free running route. It was a kick to be out with other runners enjoying the evening. When we finished, there were tons of snacks and drinks for the runners, and we wandered around Winterfest, drinking hot cider, watching ice sculptures being made, and listening to holiday carols played by a local brass band.

The next day, we went to Longwood Gardens to see the 400,000 lights all over the estate. Sublime. On the way, we bought our tree at a family-owned farm. It's a Frasier fir, and it's lovely! The season is officially in full swing!

Supergirl in Maine

On Sunday, I bid the sun Aloha at 4pm on the west side of Cape Elizabeth, Maine. I never thought I'd find commonalities between Hawaii and Maine, but like islands and peninsulas and capes everywhere, you can see the sun both rise and set within about ten miles. That's not the best part of this vacation, though. I've gotten to spend ample time with Superman's aunt, uncle, cousin, parents, and grandparents, 5/7 of whom live in Maine, in the same neighborhood. And what a neighborhood! Beautiful houses, beach access, a run away from the Portland Head Lighthouse and park, where I've run almost every day, and lovely, friendly people. My favorite dog lives across the street. She's from Delaware, as it turns out--SuperAunt's neighbors' daughter goes to UDel, and the dog was picked up on the way back to Maine one vacation. I've got to find the breeder...

Which brings me to pets. Poppette the Rockette is at the vet's this week--lovely, friendly people who exclaimed, "Oh, she's so cute!" upon her arrival. She's in good hands, and getting to play with other kitties, which she really likes, but I miss her!

Thanksgiving was wonderful. Everyone pitched in, and we had marvelous turkey, stuffing made from scratch by Super dad-in-law, green bean casserole also made from scratch by Super dad-in-law, who's a heavenly cook, butternut squash and salad made by SuperAunt, potatoes peeled by SuperUnCole and mashed by Supercute Cousin, and FOUR PIES. SuperGrandma provided one, SuperUnCole provided one, and yours truly made a pumpkin maple pie (thanks to BostonErin and Mollie Katzen for the recipe heads up) and apple pie (thanks to SuperAunt and the Mennonites for the recipe). YUMMY! The apples are from our bushel--Gold Rush, they're called, from North Star Orchards. Delish! I'm sure I'm missing food or improperly attributing some thanks, but it was a great dinner, and better yet, great company.

Back at SuperHeadquarters in Cali, Superbro, Supermom, and Mark P. whipped up the traditional Beman Thanksgiving, with a pecan pie addition from Snooky and Celeste. Apparently, there was one recipe dud, but what are you going to do? It happens.

My workout plan has also featured 30 minutes on the elliptical trainer while watching "Desparately Seeking Susan," after the beach walk on the west side of the Cape. Superman and I also swam the day before Turkey Day at the fabulous Cape Elizabeth pool. I've seen four lighthouses, been to the L.L. Bean outlet AND factory store, visited the Old Port, toured around Portland (SUCH a gorgeous city!), seen a bunch of awesome houses, passed Roberts' Woods where everyone here cross-country skis and snowshoes in the winter, visited the Scarborough Marsh, where you can kayak in the right season, played Mancala, Othello, Life, Snakes and Ladders, and Candy Land, read a bunch of books, and just generally had a fantabulous time. The Superrelatives could not be more generous with their time, food, and stuff. They're helping us pad our home furnishings and decor, and SuperAunt re-taught me to spray paint (it's been a while since Supermom and I painted my Esprit shoes gold for my sixth-grade goldfish costume). I'm ready for home projects (painting walls, desk, chairs) when I get back to DE!

Off to put some lights on the SuperGrandparents' trees! Happy Holidays!

Tea: The Legends, the Romance

Longwood Gardens is my favorite place in Pennsylvania. I've been weekly since moving here, and it gets better with every visit. Now, if only the volunteer coordinator would call me back! I am now a Frequent Visitor, as is Superman, so we get in free whenever we want to go, and get discounts for our guests (so come visit). Last night, I couldn't resist signing us up for a lecture by Jessica Litt, who owns The House of Tea (http://www.houseoftea.com/) in Philadelphia. A former jockey, Litt inherited the business when her father, who had been a soldier, a circus clown, and a chef, passed away. She is now master of all things tea, as persnickity as you might expect, but interesting to hear speak, anyway. We learned a lot about different types of tea and how it should be consumed (however, we cheapies will stick to our Lipton with milk and honey for now). Following the lecture, we sampled Witch's Brew, which is actually an infusion, rather than a tea, and is delicious--my favorite. Then we tried a white tea, which was very mild, but good. These were hand-poured for us by Litt and a volunteer, out of a real teapot! We had scones, cookies, and petits fours with our tea--so civilized. Next up was a green tea, better than any I've tried, and a Ceylon, which was delicious. The last round was a Chinese tea that we agreed smelled like stinky feet, and tasted smoky, and to be honest, a little odd. Clearly, our palates are unsophisticated. Last, we had a first blush Darjeeling (picked in spring, and did you know you're only supposed to keep tea for six months? It goes bad! Shame on me; my Lipton is a year old!). Now, Matt can talk with his officemate about his gourmet tea.

The best part about being at Longwood at night, though, was that we got a first glimpse of the Christmas decorations, which promise to be phenomenal. We were greeted upon arrival by a trea lit up with orange lights, could see down a path of Christmas trees, and could see blue snowflakes sparkling in the woods in the distance. We can't wait to go back for Christmas!

Volunteering During the Holiday Season

Today, the New York Times has a great "special section" on giving. There are a ton of really interesting articles about volunteering, charitable giving, and nonprofits. It was so heartening to see a whole section of the Times devoted to that. I always feel inspired to volunteer as the frenetic pace of fall ends and the holiday season begins. I am so lucky to have so much; I can give of myself to others, many of whom have less, or are in less desirable circumstances. I realize that life can turn on a dime; I'd hope others would be there for me if my chips were down, so the least I can do is give now, while I have the resources to do so. I certainly donate money, and I like to combine that with a dose of manual labor here, some gardening there, some work with kids elsewhere.

Two ideas I got from today's article are to raise guide puppies for the blind and to send a care package to a soldier. I never supported the war in Iraq, but that doesn't mean that my heart doesn't go out to the soldiers there. I'd like to show just one of them that I care. From the Times, I found a website that has seemingly endless opportunities to do that:
http://155.7.40.58/AmericaSupportsYou/send_packages.html

On Volunteer Match (volunteermatch.org), I found a few good opportunities in the Delaware area--some naturalist options where I could use my teaching skills, and a few pet socialization opportunities. There are also some things at the library and with the Girl Scouts, which I've found on my own. Hopefully, the Volunteer Coordinator at Longwood Gardens will call me soon, too. It's great to feel that I have a little extra time to volunteer, but I've always done it. It's important to me. It's meaningful to give to the community, on many levels, and it makes you feel good!

Supergirl and BostonErin Visit Three States in One Weekend!

The weekend began in Philadelphia, actually. I welcomed BostonErin to the city of brotherly love at 11 AM on Friday--in the wrong terminal. Therefore, I had to welcome her by cell phone until I was able to find my way through baggage claim to the proper location. We headed back to DE, where we had lunch with Superman, wandered around town and campus, tried to track down the marching band and failed, and bought new toothbrushes (we're having a little issue with pictures staying on the wall in our house, and the latest incident involved a photograph falling on top of our toothbrush holder). No one likes a toothbrush that's been behind the toilet.

After a brilliantly cooked meal (thank you, Superman) and the usual good conversation, we made applesauce from half of our bushel of apples and played with Supercat, AKA Poppette the Rockette. Supercat likes BostonErin--Erin plays mouse, and cat dancer, and is quiet and sweet around cats.

Saturday, after applesauce pancakes, we took a girls' trip to Pennsylvania for an afternoon at Longwood Gardens. We stopped for lunch in Kennett Square at my favorite place in town, the Half Moon Bar and Grill. Next, we visited a specialty paper store, where the owner thought we were the most fun people he'd seen all day (we really are quite fun, but perhaps he hadn't seen anyone else that day, either). We had quite a chat with him, and I have some plans for my Christmas cards now.

At Longwood, the Christmas decorations-in-progress are looking more and more elaborate, pansies have been planted, my favorite huge tabby cat was out and about, and we got to hear some Korean drumming. Another highlight was the traveling puppet theater. I'd been expecting several adults, several puppets, and a lightweight portable theater of some type. In fact, the traveling theater was worn by a person in tights, Converse, with the theater as her upper body. A frog puppet was available to act whenever children were nearby, and as we passed the puppet theater person, murmuring, "So cute...", the frog said, "Hi there!" So nice to be greeted.

We couldn't tear ourselves away from Longwood in time to make it to the Brandywine River Museum or Chaddsford Winery, but fortunately, I live here. Our goal for the day was to find Trader Joe's, and we did. Unfortunately, Trader Joe's cannot sell alcohol within the store in Delaware, so after stocking up on groceries, we had to locate a liquor store. We traveled down 202, which is close to the PA border, meaning that it has every store known to man, so that the Pennsylvanians can cross the state line and shop, sales-tax free, any time they like. All the liquor stores were on the wrong side of the road, so we returned to Newark and went to the one in town. Not too many pinots or zins out here, so we bought some shiraz.

Another great meal, this time with wine, followed by more good conversation and cat entertainment. My kind of weekend.

Sunday was Baltimore. We wandered around the Inner Harbor, ate Maryland crab cakes, toured a Norwegian Royal Navy ship, and visited the fabulous National Aquarium, where we saw sharks, dolphins, frogs, all manner of fish (we found Nemo!), and even some birds and monkeys. The building is a beautiful glass and concrete structure with fabulous viewing tanks and a few very real-feeling exhibits--rainforests and Australian outback. We drove home in Chesapeake Bay/Veteran's Day weekend traffic, making it home just in time for Peace A Pizza slices and a (thankfully, traffic-free) trip to the Philly airport.

Today is Monday. Back to swimming, and some work at home, which will be cozy because it's raining outside. I'm contemplating some pie-baking for Thanksgiving and cleaning the house. Ah, another fall day on the East Coast.

Fall in Delaware

Last weekend, Superman and I enjoyed a pastoral afternoon at Fair Hill, a gorgeous, huge park just ten minutes away in Maryland. It was an old DuPont family hunting estate (don't you love it? They had that whole place to themselves just for hunting!) We walked for several hours, entranced by the fall colors and the crisp weather. I've dreamed of a fall walk in the woods for so many years now, I felt like I was in a book. It was rapturous. We passed groups of people on beautiful horses, a fisherman, and a few other hikers. The funniest part was when we started hearing shouts and couldn't figure out what was going on. Suddenly, behind us, came a fleet of mountain bikers. It was a club, and they were taking different paths but calling to each other to keep track of where everyone was. They'd meet at different points. The coolest thing about this park is the myriad of little trails winding through it, all connected by bigger horse paths.

Because we got lost, like we do everywhere we go, we actually found a better route to take to get there. The best thing? It passes by a family farm, very popular with families on the weekends, that sells a variety of great fruits and vegetables, plus honey, jam, cider, and other treats. We grabbed groceries there, and after a mishap where Superman waved to thank a driver who was letting us cross the road in front of him, then shattered a maple syrup bottle when the grocery bag broke, we went home to hot apple cider.

Our other fall activity was to buy a bushel of "second" apples at the farmer's market, and a very pricey food mill at Williams-Sonoma. We're going to make gallons of applesauce. We figure we can use the food mill the rest of our lives.

This weekend, Boston Erin comes to visit, and we're going to tour the sights of the Brandywine Valley. Can't wait!

Supergirl in the City

For some embarrassing reason, whenever I get ready for a trip to New York City, I start singing the song from "Annie" about New York, "N.Y.C." in my head. Of all songs. Not "New York, New York," or the U2 song, but "Annie." That aside, I was very excited to pack up my stuff and head to the Big Apple for the day to meet Wonder Woman, in town for a conference. I discovered the joys of Amtrak--real joys, because my train was not delayed, my seat was comfortable, and the scenery was lovely. I met a nice lobbyist from D.C. when a bratty child and his grandmother asked me to move so they could sit together (they were disgruntled after being kicked off the very delayed, broken-down Acela, and apperently felt that because their trian tickets were $50 more than mine, they were entitled to ask me to move.). Better than sitting with the bratty child, anyway.

I got into Penn Station on time, and thanks to Wonder Woman's excellent directions, made my way via subway to Caffe Reggio in the Village. Wonder Woman's friend Amy led us on a tour of culinary delights around the area. Caffe Reggio had great breakfast and beverages, and we followed it with a cupcake at Magnolia, chocolat at Vosges (in SoHo), and pizza in NoLiTa. At the very end of the night, after a jaunt up to the Upper East Side to get Wonder Woman's bags from a friend's house, and a long walk through Midtown to Wonder Woman's hotel, we were hungry again, so we went to the famous Carnegie Deli for some matzoh ball soup.

My favorite thing to do in New York is wander. I've seen shows and eaten at famous restaurants, but truly, I love to wander or run around Central Park, then spend the day in the Village, NoLiTa, or SoHo. It's fun to be an East Coaster and know that New York is less than two hours away on cushy Amtrak if I want to go!

Supergirl Moves to Delaware

"DelaWHERE?!" was the typical refrain when I announced to people that I'd be moving at the end of October. They'd be all interested, and then when I said I was going to Delaware (not Boston, not Oregon, not Seattle, not even Minneapolis), their faces fell, and their voices took on that incredulous (or sympathetic) tone. Matt says it's because of the way *I* said the word "Delaware." I'll admit that my attitute toward the whole thing was terrible. I'd lived in the San Francisco Bay Area for 31 years, and I'd been to Delaware exactly twice: once as a pass-through on a train from Pennsylvania to Maryland, and once when we visited for Matt's postdoc interview. I liked it enough on my actual visit to the state (largely because of my visit to Longwood Gardens) to be willing to move when Matt was officially offered a postdoc. Plus, it was clear that this was the best place for Matt to do his postdoc. His advisor here is one of the preeeminent soil scientists in the country, an incredibly supportive man from whom Matt can learn a great deal. Someone once told me that the most important thing you can get out of a job is an education, and clearly, Matt will gain that here. I also think he's poised to make a good scientific contribution by being here, where he'll be able to pursue all of his interests. I knew how interested he was in coming here, and I'd been teaching for five years and knew I could handle the transition. However, no matter how prepared one is, or how healthy a move can be, the actuality of moving cross-country for the first time in one's entire life is unbelievably daunting.

At first, I figured I'd teach in Delaware. But after we made the commitment to move, and I told my principal, and passed the word to friends, family members, and colleagues, it became clear that Matt's thesis defense would be later than we'd thought. Were I to teach, I'd be moving to Delaware in August--with him to follow in October. I couldn't imagine doing that. So, I had to rethink things. I looked for jobs in the area and was rejected three times, so I decided to take stock of my interests and consider trying something else. I brought some career counseling books home from school, and discovered that I really only have two major work-related interests: writing and teaching. It's nice to have it narrowed down, I suppose.

I decided to pursue writing more aggressively. It's a little hard to teach when you move in October and may move again during the following school year! I had begun to miss my former four-year stint in writing, editing, and marketing for tech companies, and decided to see if I could go back to full-time writing.

I began by transcribing interviews for the Stanford Study of Writing. For $15 an hour, I hunkered down at my laptop with "ExpressScribe" software and typed up interviews between Research Assistants and Stanford undergraduates about their writing experiences at Stanford. A 45-minute interview could take ten hours to transcribe, especially with a fast talker. It was exhausting, but the feeling of accomplishment made it worth it.

Good news followed: My dear friend Heather left her job to start her own graphic design business. StudioPicotee.com was launched, and she immediately gained high-profile clients and hired me as her copywriter. Without even realizing it, I had fallen into my ideal job: freelance copywriting for a smart, successful designer. I have loved every minute of my work for her, and am so excited to continue it!

Having a portable career for myself made the concept of moving a little easier. The feminist in me was struggling with the idea of moving for my husband (as super as he is); now, the move was actually necessary. By living in a place with cheaper rent, and by being married to a person whose benefits can cover me, I can afford to write. My goal is to be full-time and really contribute to our household income eventually, but you have to start somewhere!

Here I am, in Delaware. I'm writing for my Bay Area clients and the neighborhood natural foods co-op, and I like it here! It's beautiful, with trees everywhere (which are currently bursting with gorgeous fall color). People are friendly, and things move a little slower. It's a real town, with a variety of people and fewer of them. We live in a cute house in the center of campus. Undergrads stream by our front door all day on their way to and from class, and we live one block from Main Street, where there are three independent bookstores, three indie record stores, and a plethora of fantastic, vegetarian-friendly restaurants with half-price bottles of great CA wine Sun-Weds, and bands Thurs-Sat. My parents visited last week and helped us whip the house into shape (I've never seen so much recycling), and we also managed to go to the fabulous Longwood Gardens AND the Newark, DE Halloween Parade (complete with a hearse, whose license plate was "6FTUNDER," that shot flames).

My mom, due to an unfortunate tooth abcess, found us a great dentist (my third father-child dentist team!), I found Triple A, Eastern Mtn. Sports, and the Gap, and Matt and I have joined the Delaware Masters team, ten people who swim crazy fast intervals but are very nice. They comprise eight of the fifteen people I know here, which is a motivator for the 5:00 A.M. wakeup call Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings.

The cat is still not sure about this whole deal. She misses her big picture windows and staring at the cats in neighboring condos. However, she was amazing on the flight out here, chillin' in her carrier and letting us pet her, not making a peep. She met some other nice cat people and only caused a minor ruckus when she was forced to be removed from her carrier for security screening and peed on the floor. "She's pissing," cried the security guy on one end as the guy manning the walk-through scanner calmed Matt ("It's OK; you don't need to show me your boarding pass,") while the cat howled. She did find a cozy shelf to nap on when she got here and has learned to drink out of my water glass (ew), but we've bought her some area rugs to appease her, and we notice she's spending a little less time under the bed. There was even some racing up and down stairs today!

When we got here, our house was in disarray. Apparently, the final inspection never happened, and there were transitional people living here for a while, so there were about five broken windows, the same amount of thrashed miniblinds, rusty faucets and showerhead, a crumbling stoop, etc. After my first-night meltdown, we got on the phone with the housing office, and we are now friendly with the carpenters and glass guy. Painters, masons, plumbers, and probably electricians will be next. Kitty is pissed about all these people invading her house, but she'll get used to it.

So that's the news from Delaware. I'll close with my dad's favorite thing to say whenever we talk about Delaware: "What did Dela wear?" "She wore a New Jersey!"

Cheers!

Supergirl in Kauai
While I've basically been on vacation since mid-June, poor Superman really needed some time off. He finally got his week in the sun, and we headed off to the Garden Island for some hiking, snorkeling, and lush vegetation. We began our stay at the Garden Island Inn (http://www.gardenislandinn.com), in Nawiliwili (basically Lihue--same town the airport's in). At $95/night for the simplest room, it was a great deal, enabling us to eat out without concern. We also felt pretty smug that even though we were the last people on the Hertz parking shuttle and the last to leave the Hertz parking lot, we only had five minutes to drive, in contrast to our line buddy's hourlong trek to Princeville, on the north shore.

We don't recommend staying at the Garden Island Inn on a Saturday night with good weather, however. There's a fantastic bay across the street (the Lihue Marriot, which is really lovely and $250 a night for the cheapest room, commands the bay's oceanfront), and the locals like to hang on the side of the bay that connects to Nawiliwili Beach Park and party on Saturday night. Think really loud bass, magnified by cement walls. Even earplugs didn't help.

That rough night aside, the rooms were clean and air-conditioned, and the Inn is easy walking distance from a shopping galleria called Anchor Bay. The galleria doesn't have much to recommend it other than a shop called South Sea Treasures, in which lives the super-cute Carpe Diem Cafe, which has great coffee and chai (cookies, too), and tables outside overlooking the bay. If you walk around behind the shopping area toward JJ's Broiler, there's a little footbridge that crosses over the river that flows into the bay and goes to the Marriot's beachfront. We ate at Duke's Canoe Club our first night. It was OK, but not worth the price, and we were so full, we missed the Hula Pie, their masterpiece (they're part of the restaurant chain that includes Leilani's and Kimo's on Maui and Sunnyside at Tahoe). We did love the Mai Tai's (best I've had) and the crab wontons. Next time, I'd do what we almost did--sit in the bar area and get drinks and appetizers. Wandering around the Marriot is fun--their beach is beautiful, there's a very cool pool area with a pool you could easily do a morning or evening swim workout in--it's huge, bars and restaurant at the pool and upstairs from it, all overlooking the pool area and beach, and a really cool Koi pond inside the hotel past the reception area. Don't know what it's like during the day, but I'd love to stay there and try it out. Maybe on a pleasant Saturday night!

Before dinner at Duke's on our first full day in Kauai, we drove up to the north shore to hike from Ke'e Beach for two miles on the famous Kalalau Trail, which leads for 11 incredibly strenuous, vertigo-inducing miles into the Kalalau Valley, where you can camp. Guidebooks and those who have done it say it's not for the faint of heart. I could have done it when I was 22; now I'm a little too wimpy about heights--poor Matt. Turns out it rained hard the next several days, though, so we were feeling glad not to be backpacking and trying to hike a very tough trail in the rain. Scary. We hiked in on the part of the trail most everyone who makes it out to Ke'e Beach hikes--there were people of all ages, in all types of attire (I saw a woman in a swimsuit, flip-flops, and cover-up, carrying a drink, about a half-mile up), and a range of footwear (the locals go barefoot and carry their surfboards). The beach that's two miles along the trail is awesome and has terrific waves--but a strong current that can be very dangerous. I was fried even after the two miles and kicked back at the stream overlooking the ocean; Matt went bodysurfing along with the hundreds of people getting off the boat that drops people at points along the trail so they can hike back to the beach. It was a pretty entertaining hiking experience. We ran into Dave Shelly and family (there for a cousin's wedding) on the way back, as well as countless other random people, all enjoying the sun and the jaw-dropping vistas. I'd forgotten how cliff-hanging parts of that trail are. I blithely hiked about four miles in ten years ago and am rather dismayed at the change in me--I say it's newfound happiness and responsibility; Matt's worried I'm getting soft. One couple had hiked in two miles, then decided to hike up to the waterfall you can get to from the two-mile marker. They had no food and were as happy as clams. Love it.

We ended up back at Ke'e beach, where we enjoyed the warm water and Matt got his first snorkel in. Lunch was a tuna sandwich and an avocado one at the deli next to Hanalei Gourmet in the old Hanalei schoolhouse; we'd had breakfast next door at Java Kai, where they have yummy breakfast goodies and great coffee. Then we drove back, swam again over at the Marriot beach, and went to the aforementioned dinner at Duke's.

Day Two was breakfast at the Kailuea Bakery and a hike on the Sleeping Giant trail, accessible from 580, past Opekaa Falls. We visited the falls on the way down, and added another waterfall trip, to Wailua Falls (on a different road near Lihue), took our nightly dip at the Marriot Beach, and dined at Pomodoro, Marriot restaurant #2.

Day Three: We discovered Carpe Diem cafe and kayaked the Wailua River, after lunch at Caffe Coco near Kapaa--truly delicous vegetarian food and fish. The kayak trip is a kick--you can go by the Fern Grotto, but you can't really see it, due to rock slides and a restoration project going on, but there's lots of other stuff to see on that fork of the river. On the other fork, after passing a re-created Hawaiian Village ($5 admission; we skipped it but did dock our kayak and climb up to peek), you end up at an inlet where you can leave your kayak and hike to "Secret Falls"--along with ten million other people. We kayaked fast and ended up alone on the trail (it's short and pretty easy if you have Chacos or Tevas; I did it in flip-flops because I idiotically left the Chacos at home). Matt took a dip in the waterfall, and we played around on the river for a little more. When we were done, we took a walk at Lydgate Park, which has a fantastic walking path along the beach and two great kids' playgrounds. We tried to go to Anini beach, but there are two roads by the same name just outside Kailuea and you need to take the SECOND one, not the first. We did go to a nice beach with crazy surf--I think it's actually called "Secret Beach." We both bodysurfed, then drove up to Hanalei for dinner at the Hanalei Dolphin, which was the best dinner we'd had on the trip so far. They have outdoor dining at lunch only, right on the Hanalei river. They also rent cottages, and we think next time we come to Kauai, we'd either rent one of those or try out the inexpensive Hanalei Inn. The Hanalei Colony Inn is also good value for the money ($250 gets you a two-bedroom condo, with kitchen, right on the beach), but it's a bit north of town, while the previous two are right in town. We both LOVE Hanalei. Laid-back, cute buildings, friendly people, and beautiful. Before dinner that night, we cruised over to Hanalei Bay Beach and looked out at the historic Hanalei Pier. That's a nice, wide beach with many different sub-beaches, but we didn't swim there, so I don't know how it is.

Day Four was our check-out day at the Garden Island Inn, so we hit Carpe Diem again, packed up the car, and headed off to the Kailuea Lighthouse and Wildlife Refuge. We also visited the Guava Plantation. Then we found Anini Beach, which is truly lovely, with really nice facilities and lots of people camping. We headed up to Hanalei for lunch at our favorite deli, then grabbed shave ice (my favorite is root beer over vanilla ice cream; Matt likes rainbow over macadamia nut ice cream) and some coffee for Matt, and drove all the way down to the south shore to stay at Kiahuna Plantation on Poipu Beach (some very nice family friends rented us their condo for an incredibly reasonable rate). Poipu Beach is not what I remember, unfortunately. It's lovely and golden, but the path that used to run along the beach from the Sheraton at one end to the end of Poipu Beach park is broken up due to remodeling at the Poipu Marriot post-1992 Hurricane Iniki, and the sandy beach I remember is actually mostly rocks once you get in the water. Great snorkeling, and Kiahuna has a really nice shady lawn for those of us who can't do sun for too long, plus very happy vacationers and warm water, so it's pretty cushy. We had figured we'd cook the whole time we were there, but when we went to Big Save in Koloa, we were disappointed by the lack of local produce. We cobbled together some burritos, but the next day, determined to find a farmer's market.

There are lots of local farmer's market, but they're daily at different parts of the island. There was one on Day Five in Hanapepe, but we got there too late--the website said 4:30, but it really began at 3. We tried to go to the fruit and veggie stand near Poipu, but it closed at 5, and we weren't back from our failed voyage to Hanapepe in time. Matt had seen another stand near Koloa, but we were too disillusioned at that point, so we went back to the beach (we'd snorkeled there already, that morning, but wanted to swim again) and had dinner at the Plantation Gardens restaurant, after wandering by at 6pm to make a reservation for later that night. It was good; not amazing, but good. "Baked Hawaii" for dessert and terrific drinks were the highlights. The restaurant is surrounded by gardens with some amazing orchids; there's also a succulent garden (the Moir Garden) that is famous nearby.

Day Six, we went to Waimea Canyon in time (12pm) to see it in its sunny glory, and we went to all three lookouts, ending up at Kokee Park headquarters in time for lunch at the very cute Kokee Lodge. We recommend the apple salad and grilled cheese. We took the slightly weird Berry Flat Loop hike, which features California coastal redwoods (!) within the jungle. On our drive down, we were feeling glad not to have begun a big hike in the afternoon, because the canyon was fogged in by then. If you're going to go there, go early! On our way back, we found the fruit and veggie stand and bought a few things. After a beach sunset and swim, we made avodaco sandwiches, schezuan green beans, and recreated that day's apple salad.

Day Seven featured a fantasic tour of the Allerton Garden, part of the National Tropical Botanical Garden (ntbg.org), a thwarted attempt to see the McBryde Garden (closed until Monday due to flash flood warnings), lunch at the mediocre Pizzetta in Koloa town (great service, though), a walk along Poipu Beach and into the nearby neighborhoods, a rainstorm at the end of the walk, and more veggies from the local stand for dinner.

Day Eight, I woke up shaking. Not due to nerves, but due to the large earthquake that hit Hawaii and Oahu quite hard. Superman was convinced a train was passing, but I reminded him there are no trains on Kauai--at least none that would shake a building! Reassured that no tsunami was on the way, we headed out on a walk. There's a pleasant walking path behind the Sheraton. It goes out Poipu Beach road to Lawai Road, and there are sidewalks almost the whole way, plus ocean views. I was disappointed to figure that out so late--I do love my daily constitutional. Lots of other people out walking, including locals with dogs. We were able to walk from Kiahuna past the Sheraton and out onto the road.

When we returned, we hit the beach for a bit, then packed up and checked out. We had lunch across the street from Kiahuna, at Keoki's paradise in Poipu Shopping Village. It's cute and a good place to go for a meal if you're in Poipu. Then we cruised by the Hyatt, so Matt could see the crazy pool. The pool is still a kick, but the place was packed with people talking on their cell phones. Total scene. Ick. We beat it out of there pretty quickly--it's probably nicer at night!

Next, we drove to Lihue, stopping at Kilohana on the way. It's one of the most expensive houses ever built on the island, by a sugar plantation president who imported furniture from Gump's. Much of the original furniture and decor is still there, and the setting is spectacular--views of mountains on one side, and beautiful gardens behind the house. There's a restaurant there, Gaylord's that was very nice for a dressy lunch or dinner. We wandered around the gardens. The house, besides housing the restaurant, has dedicated all its rooms and outlying cottages to shops, like Allied Arts in Menlo Park. I liked it.

After Kilohana, we spent some time in Border's (in the Kukui Grove Mall, which is very nice, as malls go), got some new books, then drove to Nawiliwili and up the road that borders the Huleia river, famous from Raiders of the Lost Ark. I had wanted to kayak there--it's a wildlife refuge--but we didn't make it. The Menehune fish pond, off of the river, is neat to look at. There's a pulloff for it, but the anti-haole graffiti making the signs impossible to read was rather unsettling.

There is certainly a great deal of tension between native Hawaiians and tourists on Kauai--it's palpable. Graffiti, side comments, dirty looks--but that's to be expected in a place where there really are quite a few natives still living there, and where the economy is so dependent on tourists. The tourists come and drive around the island in their rental cars, often too fast, and are sometimes rude and disrespectful, and then the generality becomes, "Haoles flew here. We grew here. Go home, haoles." One can only hope that more Kauai visitors come, enjoy the island in an eco-conscious, culturally respectful way, and leave a more positively regarded footprint as time goes on.

We finished our day with a trip back to Lydgate Park, where we sat and read at a picnic table overlooking the ocean. We had dinner at our favorite place, Caffe Coco, and returned to Lihue for one more stroll around the Marriot's lovely grounds and a quick flip-flop purchase for Matt "Stinky Feet" G-V; then we headed to the airport. Despite a long delay and some freaky turbulence at the beginning of the flight that caused the plain to drop hundreds of feet and lurch around for about ten minutes, we had a smooth flight, and returned home in time to see our entire condo get packed up and moved to Delaware! Yowza!

The next dispatch will be from Delaware, most likely!

Supergirl (and family) in St. Helena
On 680, Superdad remarked that when he was at Stanford, "going to Napa" meant "going nuts"--a reference to the mental hospital up in Napa at the time. When *I* was at Stanford, "going to Napa" meant driving Grandma's 1984 Chrysler LeBaron convertible with white-sided wheels and sparkling silver hubcaps over the Golden Gate Bridge and along Highway 29 to go winetasting with some friends. Ten years later, Supermom, Superdad, and I were motoring the Highlander along 680 (less traffic) and over the Benicia Bridge to cruise into St. Helena on the Saturday of Labor Day weekend. I've become my parents in more ways than one--two of them involve taking back roads to avoid traffic and going places on Saturday instead of Friday night (also to avoid traffic). Or maybe we're just people who shouldn't live in a densely populated metro area. At any rate, we made good time and arrived at the wacky Hotel St. Helena at the same time as Superbro and girlfriend and my parents' entire neighborhood. We were in town for a close family friend's wedding the next evening. We had some merlot in the hotel bar with statues of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, as well as a few gnomes, and went to dinner at Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen. It's a cute place with inventive cuisine and really great water glasses, but That Guy ended up at the table behind us, and he was so loud and annoying that we were sort of relieved to head back to the hotel.

When I went to look at the guestbook, I realized that the husband of one couple had signed his wife's name, and where others put their addresses, wrote, "House of Ill Repute." Their neighbors put their names down and wrote, "Neighbors of Ill Repute." We continued with Friends of Ill Repute, Children of Ill Repute, etc. They may regret having a guestbook now that we've been there.

The hotel is filled with old dolls and toys and antiques--the rooms feel like a guest room at someone's house. I slept comfortably and woke up the next morning to run around town. I actually ran down Highway 29--the traffic doesn't hit till late morning--and then through the back streets of the town, along a beautiful walking path that borders several acres of grapevines, with a view of the mountains that frame the Napa Valley. I admired the cute Victorians along the way and made friends with two black lab puppies who were supervising their owner's painting of a white picket fence. Aw.

I got back in time to have the "European-style breakfast" advertised in the hotel brochure--along with my parents and the whole neighborhood. It was great to catch up with everyone--my parents are fortunate to live in an area where most of the kids are in the same age range, and everyone is incredibly supportive of each other. I have gained a deep appreciation for long-term friendships and community support by watching my parents and our family friends from the neighborhood model kindness and caring.

Everyone peeled off for various outings--one couple went to see a cousin up in Calistoga, one group was going to see some tourist sites and taste some wine--and my family suited up, hopped in the 'lander, and drove off down the Silverado trail--well, after Supermom and Superbro, the most stubborn members of the family, spent a half hour digging the middle seatbelt holder out of a jam underneath the seat.

I was innapropriately dressed--when I think California summer activities, I immediately put on shorts and a tank top. I also had my trusty Chaco sandals on for good arch support. Most of the other ladies out tasting were wearing wedge sandals, Seven jeans, and much tinier tank tops, plus makeup and jewelry. I figured I would just pass for a high schooler and let it go. We tasted some great wine, admired some lovely gardens, stopped for lunch at Oakville Grocery, and headed back to rest and get ready for the wedding.

The wedding was spectacular. Beautiful outdoor ceremony, wonderful indoor dinner, amazing food and wine, great band. We headed home with the other neighbors when we had danced ourselves into the ground, and when we returned to the hotel, thought it would be a great idea to check out all the other rooms. My parents had the hugest bed anyone had ever seen, and Nancy and Tom from around the block (next door neighbors of the groom's family) had the smallest bathroom known to man. No one could stop giggling. I thought, wait till I tell all their kids about this!

I had enjoyed my run that day so much that I got up early Monday morning for a repeat. We had breakfast again and said goodbye--another way I am my parents is that we get an early start when driving home on a holiday weekend. We cruised home, enjoying the strains of Faith Hill and The Judds. September is probably the most beautiful time in the Napa Valley, and it was such a treat to get up there with my whole family and many of our oldest friends to celebrate love, marriage, family, and friendship.

I Didn't Go to Burning Man
There have been three times I considered it: when the Egreetings gang was going, but I couldn't get the time off work, when Spacegirl went and encouraged me to come along, but I was teaching and couldn't be out of my classroom the second week of school, and last month, when my dear friend Mark mentioned that he was going, and I thought, "Oh man, it's my last chance to go, probably, and there's no way I can make it happen." The only thing I did have was really something I didn't have: a full-time job requiring my presence during Labor Day week. However, I also had appointments, social plans, and packing to do for my impending move to Delaware (with detours to Kauai and my parents' for a week each). There was no way it was going to happen, but still...this pang. I know that if I went to Burning Man with good friends, planned out my outfits, brought all my camping stuff and dehydrated gourmet meals, and stayed in the Hush camp where Spacegirl stayed this year (everyone goes to bed and sleeps through the night), I'd enjoy it. The art would be fascinating on that desert tableau.

However, since I stayed home, instead, I lived vicariously through the pictures the NY Times had on their website every day, and helped Mark prepare his outfits. They were fabulous: red cowboy outfit, white space captain outfit, Speedos of every color with accessories. I'll admit to a minor pang, but I also have a pang that Superdad and I didn't make it to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival this year to see Richard Newcombe in Jekyll and Hyde. As Superdad always says, you can't have all your life experiences before you're 50. Sometimes you have to pick and choose. I've spent quality time with friends and family this summer and fall, got some closure on teaching, returned to freelance writing, and packed. I am ready for the East Coast and all the adventures it will provide. I may never make it to Burning Man, but Spacegirl and Mark will indulge me with photos and fashion shows, and maybe I can convince them to celebrate New Year's Eve in Gettysburg.

I Was a Substitute Teacher
When my former colleagues heard I wasn't moving away until October, they all wanted to know if I was going to sub. Of course, I replied. Great way to make money, and no meetings! As it turned out, I only ended up with about six days in which I had nothing previously planned, so I gave the dates to The Sub Guy who hires the subs for our district, and was immediately booked for my first date. It was probaby the easiest sub job ever. Seventh grade honors math and 7th/8th grade Leadership--four class periods. A great way to get my feet wet. The kids were all nice, because it was only the first week of school (still in shock), and many of them knew me because their siblings had taken my English and Newspaper classes.

The next gig didn't start out as smoothly. My second free day had passed without a morning phone call. However, on day three of availability, the phone rang at 7:30 A.M. Because most sub request calls come between 6:30 A.M. and 7:00 A.M., I had a moment where I thought, "That's not a sub call--it's something else." Then I thought, "but what else would it be?". Sure enough--a sub request. Someone who'd been ill all weekend thought maybe she'd be OK that week, but nope--still sick. So she called in, I was on the list, and I got the call. Fortunately, first period was covered already. I walked in second period, ready to teach eighth grade algebra for the rest of the day. OK, not ready to teach algebra. I didn't remember algebra. Nor could I find the lesson, the math book, the overheads, or the homework. However, the second-period yearbook kids (thank goodness I started with that!) who had math later that day told me where we were in the book and how the class was typically structured. I spent a few minutes digging around in the classroom and unearthed the book, the lesson, and the overheads--triumphant! By third period, I was ready. I taught the lesson (I remembered algebra), unearthed the homework assignment, and let the kids start their homework. I helped them out, had some fun, and was so comfortable by sixth period that when one young man started acting out, I sent him to the office without missing a beat, and then busted his friend for copying the correct homework answers right in front of me, while everyone else was correcting their neighbors' homework. I said to him, "It's time to start giving adults a little more credit, hon." Needless to say, he went to the office, too.

I canceled substitute availability date #4 for reasons I can't remember, but did get the call for date #5--a day ahead of time, which was nice. I subbed for my former teaching partner, so I basically taught my old curriculum to a very sweet, well-behaved group of kids. Once again, I knew many of them, and it was a completely positive and fun day. The icing on the cake was getting to see my old colleagues and feel like I was able to say a fond goodbye and know that I could return to school to sub or visit anytime.

I would have gladly subbed day #6, but didn't get a call. I contentedly slept in, and have been back to visit school one or two times since. I'll go back one last time before I move away, and then will probably return to visit during my trips back to CA. I have made peace with leaving teaching, because our move schedule for the next couple of years will not coincide with a teaching schedule at all, so it's time for work that doesn't need to adhere to a rigid schedule. I am enjoying my return to writing as a profession, and it's a delight to watch my first students become high school seniors and apply to college, and to appreciate education with a new perspective. I had considered subbing in my new location, but because I don't know that I'd be able to return to teaching for a few years, I don't think I will. I'd rather devote myself to writing part-time or full-time, and feel that I'm moving forward, than be "the sub" for multiple years. Plenty of people sub for awhile, for various reasons, and I admire them, but I'm not cut out for it. It's been one thing to sub at the place I taught for four years, working with kids and faculty I know well. It's a whole new beast to be at an unfamiliar school, with new kids and faculty. I'll enjoy my returns to the school that will always feel like home to me (I went there, after all!), and enjoy returning to writing.

Poppette the Rockette

Matt was the one who wanted the cat. I wasn't ready. I wanted to be able to spend the weekend in the city whenever I felt like it, and not have some furry thing waiting to be fed back at home. But I love animals, and of course then he started showing me pictures of kittens on the Palo Alto Humane Society web site, and once I see a kitten, I want it. So, we agreed to go to a cat fair that Saturday. We knew if we went to the cat fair, we'd come home with a cat. When we walked into the fair, a little girl was sitting near the entrance with a cute orange cat on her lap. I breathed, "Ohhh, what a cute kitty." As Matt steered me inside to see more cats, I heard the volunteer asking the little girl, "Now, sweetie, how did you say your hamster died, again?" I turned to Matt and said, "If anyone asks me how my pets died to deem whether I'm fit to have a new one or not, I'm going to fall apart. It's a sensitive day today." We met George, the sweet-eyed brown tabby, Mona, a dainly little black cat, Grigio, a huge Russian Blue, whose poor owner had to give him up when he entered assisted living (sensitive day, indeed; I teared up when I heard that), and Dunkin, Donuts, and Latte, tabbies of the orange variety who had only just left feral cat-dom and, according to the placard by their cage, were "still getting used to this being-someone's-pet idea." Tabbies and Calicos and everything in between. Old and young, recent strays and fully domesticated--we had many options.

I longingly walked over to the orange cat's cage. "Poppy," her placard read, "is a rare female orange tabby, deep orange in color, with a long, feathery tail--a real glamour girl! She loves to sit in your lap and to chat." I have a weakness for orange tabbies, because my confessed favorite of my parents' three cats is Simba, a 14-pound orange tabby who runs out to greet me when I arrive, sneaks into my car and refuses to get out when I try to leave, accompanies me everywhere, and is so mellow that he'll ride around in my shoulder bag if I put him in. I wanted Poppy, but the little girl we had walked past had already applied to adopt her. I pouted and moved on to three calico kittens. Sweetpea, Zinnia, and Pansy, they were called. We had to apply to adopt them to hold them. That's how they get you--pretty good strategy. Separate the wheat from the chaffe, as it were. We filled out the form (which did, in fact, ask if we had ever lost a pet, and how. One dog each to cars, and several cats and dogs to old age.) I held Sweetpea, who promptly curled up in my lap and went to sleep ("Sometimes cats choose you," said a volunteer.). Matt held Zinnia, who was a feisty little devil. They were to be adopted together. We said we'd have to check with our homeowners' association, but still went and bought cat litter and kitten food, in our excitement.

Unfortunately, when I called the HOA, I learned that the rule is one pet per household. I don't break the rules, unless the rules are discriminatory, and I didn't think this qualified. Matt didn't want to separate the kittens, so after a teary discussion, we called the cat lady and rescinded our adoption application.

Thanksgiving passed, and we recovered. We were now looking at the PAHS web site at a rate of about five times a day, and Poppy, the orange tabby, was still pictured. I said, "I wish we could have gotten her; there aren't any requirements about her being adopted with another cat. I guess they're not updating their website." Matt said, "Ask." This is a typical conversation in our household: Me, drama. Matt, ask. He usually gives good advice, so I emailed the cat lady to ask about Poppy. She responded, "Poppy is still looking for that perfect home. If you'll apply to adopt her, you can come see her at this weekend's cat fair and pick her up then." I danced for joy. We applied, we went to the cat fair. We picked her up and walked around the pet store with her. Three little girls ran up, and the dad with them asked, "Carly, is this the kitten that's your favorite?" I turned to her. "Sweetie, did you have another kitty you liked? We already applied to adopt this one." Matt hissed, "You're mean!", but I just thought she should know before she set her expectations. We held Poppy, who was quite mellow, and the pet store owner put on some cat Christmas carols--you know, where the cat meows are set to the tune of "Silent Night." "Meow, meow, meow, meow," went the recording. And Poppy added, "Mew!" "Meow, meow, meow, meow," "Mew!" That clinched it. She was coming home with us. We touched base with the cat lady, made arrangements for her to drop Poppy off later that afternoon, and went home.

They weren't kidding when they wrote that she liked to chat. Lap sitting, not so much. She prefers to be right next to you. But she does talk. She carries on when we get home from being gone for a while, when she wants to be fed, when she's playing. It's hilarious. She chirps to greet us and coos when we pet her. She chatters at birds and at her kitty buddies in the windows of their condos. The funniest thing is that she plays fetch. When she was younger, we'd throw her little rattling mice all over the house, and she would run after them and bring them back to us. Now, she's more picky. She'll fetch twist ties and return them, but mice are to be thrown onto a chair, or, preferably, onto the red chair, where she goalie-blocks them and then chirps at us to throw another. She loves to bat around twist ties, but loses them rapidly, so she will pretend she's hidden the twist tie under the area rug and attack the edges of it. For a while, she would only chase the shadow of her cat dancer, and ran in circles until she wore herself out. She sits on a chair at the table with me when I work, sits next to us on the couch, and even, sometimes, snuggles on the bed all night. In the morning, she brings a toy into bed and attacks our feet until we play with her. She loves playing fetch from the bed. Having a pet is delightful. I had no idea how much fun it would be to have my own. And now, if you'll excuse me, someone wants to play!

When I was seven and enthralled with Peter Pan, I researched mermaids. We went to the beach most summers, and as I swam around in the ocean, I always hoped I'd see one. This was before Google, so I used my World Book encyclopedias to look up "mermaid" and follow the information trail to the dismaying understanding that they were probably only manatees or sea lions spied by sailors so drunk that they perceived them to be beautiful females. I remember being skeptical of such an unexciting truth. Wasn't there more to it than that? Ever since then, whether it was spying the singing mermaids on the Submarine or "It's a Small World" rides at DIsneyland, watching movies that had mermaids in them ("Splash," "The Little Mermaid") or seeing the Starbucks logo proliferate around the nation, I've maintained my interest in mermaids. I remember a roommate of mine saying, once, "I'm a mermaid," and I was taken aback. Then I realized what she meant--she was an avid swimmer. This gave me pause. I'd never associated the real-world act of swimming laps in a pool with mythical creatures. The years when by, and as it happened, I started swimming more. I've worked really hard in the past several years to improve my technique, get faster, and swim more yards in each session. This summer, I swam in the ocean in Hawaii. I don't know about mermaids, but there is something incredibly soothing and therapeutic about swimming. When you swim well, and get into the flow of it, your thoughts drift, too, and there's nothing like it. I was a marathoner at one time, but swimming is now my favorite form of exercise, hands down. When I put on my ugly Speedo, swim cap, and goofy goggles, I could not feel less cool. But somehow, once I'm in that water, everything melts away. All that matters is that I move forward smoothly. I suppose that as a child, mermaids, like fairies or Santa Claus, were made-up creatures that represented childlike hope for me. In a way, swimming has become my own form of mermaid-dom: In the big lap pool, a bunch of strangers and I peacefully swim around, attaining peace and health as we go.

What's in a Name?

When my brother mentioned Matt as a potential set-up for me, I balked. "But I can't even pronounce his last name!" I said. My brother asked, "Would it help if I told you it's hyphenated?" That did help. I learned later that Mom is Ginder and Dad is Vogel, and they hyphenated the kids. When Matt's little brother Dave was born, the nun at the hospital told his mom she couldn't hyphenate his last name on the birth certificate. She said, "Yes, I can!" and did.

So when Matt and I got married, the entire three-month wedding-planning period involved discussions about whether I would, or should, change my last name, and if so, to what. He was surprised I would consider changing it at all. I thought it would be nice to have the same last name as him, and, presumably, our prospective children. His mom was surprised he didn't take my name, but he's not willing to change his, because a) he likes it, and b) he's published under it. I tried to use the argument that on future papers, he could just write, "Matthew Beman (formerly Ginder-Vogel)," and got a bemused stare. I suggested that since the cat has my last name, so could the kids, but he vetoed that, so rather than fight a losing battle, we made a deal that they could have his last name if I got to pick the first names. Personally, I think he's being a little inflexible, but he does it with such a cute giggle, who am I to argue? I'm the one making a big deal out of it.

The other piece of it is that I thought it would be kind of fun to have a new last name. I'd suddenly become someone else on Google searches. My current last name is easy to spell, yet people misspell it, and it's not exactly a great pen name or actor name or anything else. I'm a lot more attached to my first name (well, my nickname, anyway--the entire year I spent going by "Kathleen" felt like an identity crisis). You can make the case that last names are a big deal, or you can argue the exact opposite. They are a big deal if you like them, and not if you don't. More importantly, they are a big deal if no one has your last name--or if the person who has your new name is a tool. My friend Megan is quite distressed because now that she has a baby, she changed her last name to be the same as his and her husband's, but Megan Freund is some teenybopper girl with a silly MySpace profile.

I had a great idea that I could take his hyphenated last name, lose the hyphen, and be Katie Ginder Vogel. Flexibilty: I could hyphenate when I wanted my name to look identical to his, or just be Katie Vogel or Katie Ginder or whatever when I wanted something different. Only then my mom expressed so much angst that I might drop Beman and my middle name, Elizabeth, that it gave me pause. Elizabeth was her mother's middle name, she said. "So?" I responded. "That's why I'm naming my daughter Alison. After Grandma." She looked at me with those woebegone eyes, so now I've promised to name my next cat Elizabeth. I did a Google search for myself. Kathleen and Katie Beman have not changed. Same old links. Katie Ginder-Vogel and Kathleen Ginder-Vogel--nothing. I'd be brand new! Then, for kicks, I searched Katie Ginder. She exists. Scratch that. Then I searched Katie Vogel. She's a singer! I checked out her web site: http://www.katievogel.com/. She's adorable, but I could not be less like her. Katie Ginder-Vogel, on the other hand, is brand new. Somewhat defined by her husband's scientific papers and swim times from college, but ready to carve out her own identity soon.

This will not be the end of this discussion. I have yet to legally do anything. Who wants to change five frequent-flier profiles, every investment account, not to mention deal with the DMV and Social Security? I keep reminding myself that plenty of Hollywood types have fabulous-sounding names with different legal names, like Winona Horowitz (a.k.a. Winona Ryder). As Matt's dad says, "You can be a.k.a. any number of names."

Well, I hope Poppy Elizabeth Beman Ginder-Vogel doesn't have too much trouble signing her checks. :)

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

School started today, but I slept in. I read the paper, drank my coffee, then went swimming at 11. There was no one there. Well, there was a small party of 80-somethings, but they were chill, and I had the pool to myself. I'm getting better at butterfly--the key is to not lose my skills like I did last fall. I am subbing for someone Friday, but generally, I'm enjoying this new chapter in my life. I get better sleep, get to see more of my friends, have more energy in general, am making more out of my workouts, and can actually dye my hair weird colors if I so chose. I probably won't, but it's nice to have the option. I am reminded of one October back in '00, when I got laid off from Keen and spent the fall at the pool and the beach. I lasted three weeks before I got bored. Clearly, I'm getting better at using my free time. :)

There are things I will miss about teaching--my friends at work, obviously, but also being around kids and hearing their thoughts about politics, music, fashion, which celebrities are cute, what they think about various social issues--it keeps you young. At the same time, I felt like I, myself, had no sense of fashion, and I exerted myself so much at school and meetings that I wore myself out before I got home! It was sometimes hard to feel like I had a full life outside of work. I know many others, in other professions, have felt that way, and it wasn't a massive problem that would keep me from ever going back to teaching, but--I was ready for a break.

So now, when people ask me what I do for work, I say that I am a writer. And I do feel like one, again. I am doing my own work (novels, short stories, and of course, this wonderful masterpiece of a blog--ha!), doing PR and writing for Stanford and for Heather's Studio Picotee, and enjoying how comfortable it feels to be doing what I did for quite a few years before I became a teacher. I always thought it would work to maintain a writerly life while teaching. However, as I gained leadership in my school district, I devoted time to those things--and to the writing of curriculum, and discussion of student writing, and didn't spend time doing the writing I enjoy most--copywriting, PR, fiction. I edited a lot, and enjoyed that very much. And it's not true that "those who can't do, teach." That's ridiculous. Being able to write well helped me teach other people to do the same! However, it's nice to have time for myself.

I've also been traveling all over the west coast. There will be two trips to Hawaii, and I did go to Boston, and also went to LA, the gold country, and plan to head to the coast to see Big Sur, go to the Steinbeck museum, camp in luxury at Costa Noa, hit Half Moon Bay, maybe go up to Mendocino and Eureka and head home via Ashland, Shasta, Trinity Alps, and Lassen (and heck, maybe Redding!). Basically I am having the AAA Magazine summer. We found a fabulous French restaurant in Pasa Robles, on our way down to hotter-than-heck Calabasas for a family wedding in July. Heather and I discovered the town of Murphys on the way to Arnold last weekend, and also enjoyed seeing the giant sequoias at Calaveras Big Trees. The fam and I will be heading to a wedding in St. Helena over Labor Day weekend, and I certainly plan to spend more time in San Francisco as summer turns to fall.

Having time to see more of California is serving to prepare me for the move to Delaware in October. I'm excited to move to a small blue state, enjoy seasons, buy some cute winter clothes, meet some new people, and experience life in a new place. It's about time I did that! I'm already planning my trips to New York City, Baltimore, Philly, Washington, D.C. and the beaches and Chesapeake Bay towns. There is, of course, no small measure of stress involved in all of this, but I am trying to focus on my excitement. Having the good fortune of a flexible schedule this fall, I know I can come back to Cali whenever I choose to. I'll be looking for writing work so that I can continue to pay my bills while enjoying a flexible schedule, and hoping to adjust quickly!

I like:

My family and friends
Poppy the cat
Organic veggie boxes
A Prairie Home Companion
Car Talk
89.3 The Current from Minnesota Public Radio
The Minnesota State Fair
California summer
Gardens
wine at Vino Locale--but really anywhere
swimming at Avery Aquatic Center at Stanford
running at the Baylands in Palo Alto
dinner in the backyard
vegetarianism
puppies
cross-country skiing
books
the New York Times
Sudoku
Caffe Borrone and Kepler's in Menlo Park on a weeknight with girlfriends
San Francisco: Ferry Building, Cole Valley, Baker Beach, the Mission, running to Ocean Beach through Golden Gate Park, the deYoung, SoMa, Laurel Heights, the Richmond, the Sunset, Giants games at AT&T Park

I just re-read my post about my realizations about death and dying from last spring. I would say that I am still struggling with faith. However, my friend Erin told me something that I thought was really cool when I visited her in July. When her grandmother was dying, her mother left Grandma Nina's bedside to attend Erin's sister's college graduation. It was a difficult decision, but Nina really wanted them to go celebrate Lindsay's special moment. They returned and went straight to the hospital, and when Erin's mom was telling Nina about the ceremony, Nina interrupted her and said, "Yes, I know it was wonderful. But why was she wearing that blue cord around her neck?" Lindsay had been wearing a blue cord, for her sorority, with her cap and gown--but there's no way Nina would have known that! Erin and I agreed that it's cool to think of Nina being able to somehow have that knowledge as she neared death. I remember that around the time of night my grandmother died, I had a dream in which she gave me her lovely smile and said goodbye. She still appears in my dreams periodically. I like to think she's visiting me. Faith, after all, is a calming mechanism. It's the trust that when you die, you go to a better place, or are at peace. So I'm going to go ahead and keep believing, as much as I can, that death is OK. And I'm going to live a life modeled after my grandparents, who were kind, warm, intelligent, creative, expressive, and fun to be around! I want to be remembered that way. May life be long...