Milk Lands in Delaware

Well, thank goodness, Milk is now playing in Wilmington! Only now I have to get all cranky about Obama's choice of Rick Warren to deliver the invocation at his inaugeration. There are things I actually like about Rick Warren, but not his stance on homosexuality. This morning I said, "It's a bad time to be gay in America." I never thought I'd say something like that on December 18, 2008. It makes me really sad.

No "Milk" for Me

I have been anticipating the release of "Milk," the biography of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man to be elected to the San Francisco Board of Supervisors, who was fatally shot with Mayor George Moscone in 1978. As a devoted San Franciscan (even though I have lived away from my beloved city for quite a while now), the story of Milk's and Moscone's deaths has always been part of my knowledge of California history, especially considering that Senator Dianne Feinstein was the one who heard the shots, called the police, and announced the deaths to the public.

Before the election, I looked forward to seeing the movie because any opportunity to see San Francisco is a welcome one. Few days go by when I don't miss it; it's a wonderful, unique city, and I will always love and miss Northern California.

When California actually voted Proposition 8, the anti-gay marriage proposition, into law, the movie took on more poignance for me. I feel like after making so much progress toward equal rights as a society, we are suddenly experiencing a major backlash against gay and lesbian rights, and I find that incredibly upsetting. Many of my close friends are gay and lesbian, and when you are privileged enough to know a variety of people, you come to understand that people are people, and love is love, and civil rights should be a given for everybody.

When I taught, one of the annual eighth grade writing assessment prompts was, "To what extent has America achieved the dreams [for equality] of [Martin Luther] King [Jr.] and [John F.] Kennedy?" Many of my students wrote eloquently about gay rights, expressing their disbelief that so many people still wanted to deny gays and lesbians the right to marry or be parents. Yes, this was at a school in a community with educated, progressive residents, but the prevailing attitude was so open to the idea of equal rights for all that I was sure we were entering a new era. I wonder what those kids, some of whom just voted for the first time, are thinking now that we have elected Barack Obama yet passed Proposition 8.

I thought that California could do it--make strides toward equality for people of color and gays and lesbians. However, proving itself once again to be a state of many contradictions, California took one step forward and one step back. And now I feel like anti-gay rhetoric is gaining strength, so I read my Advocate and and speak my mind to others to make sure that one more voice out there speaks for equality.

And then, I consulted Fandango. "Milk" is not playing in Delaware. Not at all. Apparently, there's not a market for it here. I can't say I'm surprised, but I'm definitely disappointed. I know, people here could, for the most part, care less about San Francisco politics of the 1970's, and many people don't even know who Harvey Milk is. I know the movie's not a big moneymaker--it's a niche film. However, I can't help wishing I lived in a place that was a little more hip to gay issues, a little more interested in pushing the envelope. Then again, San Francisco saw one of the first screenings of the movie right after it outlawed gay marriage. Contradictions, indeed.

Missing Math Class

Last night, I dreamed that I was still in high school. It was the current date, October 6, and I hadn't done any of my math assignments yet. Fortunately for me, there hadn't been any tests yet, either, but I was most concerned in the dream about the workload. Apparently, my imaginary school didn't have grades, either, because I would surely have had an F, and in today's days of PowerSchool, my parents would not have been pleased with me.

It must be all the conversations I've been having about teaching lately. Yesterday, while I was manning a booth for UD at an event down on the Lewes campus, a woman came up and took a peek at the brochure I made for the event last week. She asked about the workshops we hold for science teachers, and thinking she wanted to sign up, I told her more. Turns out she makes jewelry for teachers (she herself is a retired science teacher), and I think she may have wanted a mailing list. She showed me the autumn best-seller: a button with a pumpkin on it and a "pi" symbol over it. Get it?

I then had to mention my high school geometry teacher Frank Bonzell, who could draw a perfect circle freehand and always wore a brown tie the day he gave a pop quiz. A Cal grad, he introduced himself on the first day of school to all us freshmen and shophomores with a professionalism and an authority I only wish I could match: "Hi, I'm Frank Bonzell." They don't make too many of those anymore. I couldn't be Frank Bonzell if I tried, although I think I did a pretty good job as a teacher.

Talking about school and teaching makes me realize how many great times I experienced in my own classroom with my students. I have many fond memories and still may return to the profession.

Today, though, I write this from a very nice desk in a gorgeous building at the University, quite happy with my new job and my career path of late. I took the risk when I left my teaching job to freelance, something I had wanted to do my entire career, and had a great experience. However, after two years, I missed the structure of a traditional workday and missed the interactions one gets to enjoy in an office. When you bill your time and want to give your client the most value possible for his or her money, every break you take is off the clock. It's extremely luxurious to be able to devote as much time as I want to to the creation of a brochure, for example, or to take a moment to chat with colleagues.

It has been 15 years since I last completed a math homework assignment. I'm not counting my college classes, although perhaps I should, since I barely passed Civil Engineering 170, was challenged by Cosmic Horizons, and had to be on top of my game for Statistics 40. I was always chagrined that, having been an advanced math student during my K-12 education, my math interest definitely ceased after Calculus AB. I still tell the story of trying to pass the second semester of that class. I had managed to pull a respectable B- the first semester, but for some reason, I hit a wall the second semester and flunked several tests rather miserably. Frantic that Stanford would decide they didn't want me that much after all upon seeing my second semester grade, I paid daily visits to my teacher to beg him to let me drop the class, help me understand what I failed to comprehend, or somehow save my bacon. Bless Mr. Chaddha's heart, he refused to let me drop the class and instead cut me a deal: If I did well on my semester project and passed my final and could earn a passing grade in the class, he would give me a "Pass," rather than a letter grade. If I couldn't pull it off, he'd give me a "No Mark," and I wouldn't get credit for the class. I decided I could live with that.

My good friend Josh Miller, home for the summer from Brown, taught me fractals, and I put together a killer presentation, if I do say so myself, for the end of the year. I can't remember what grade I got, but I did well. I really enjoyed it, too. I managed to pass the final with a C or C+. At a 94.5%, I had enough juice to get my Pass and wave Calculus goodbye...and Stanford hello. I'll always be grateful to Mr. Chaddha, and when I had students who were truly trying, I always took Mr. Chaddha's example and went a little farther to help them out.

It was a happy day when I got the refund check for the Calculus AP test I didn't take, too.

Our Joe

"Our Joe," as Joe Biden is known here in Delaware, did us proud at the convention last night. I am as psyched that he is the VP candidate because I value his experience, leadership, and policies as I am that he's from my home state. It is so unbelievably exciting to have Delaware represented on the national stage! We deserve to me, I mean, we ARE the First State and all. It just seems really exciting that as the Obama-Biden campaign steers the country back toward valuing working- and middle-class families with concrete healthcare, education, and economic policies, Delaware gets to be on the forefront of that. This is a state that really needs those kinds of policies put into action. The Bush Administration has hurt our military families, our poor families, our working families, our teachers, our kids...now we have the opportunity to bring the country back. It's really exciting.

We're settling into the new chapter of our life here in Delaware, in a new (much quieter) house. Soon I'll start a full-time job, Fairfax will go to guide dog training, and we'll have another puppy to raise. Poppy, our rock, likes the new house and has reclaimed her favorite chair and lounging spot on the carpet. All is well.

Go, Joebama! Go, O'Biden! The Joementum is strong!

Not All Skunks are Flower from Bambi

We have a family of skunks living behind the house now. How it is that all this wildlife chooses our backyard in the middle of town is beyond me, but Pepe Le Pieu and her four babies made their way across our street last night, stopping traffic even, to refuge. Eau de skunk was definitely in the air when I took Fairfax's sister, Fala, whom we are sitting, out before bedtime.

Fala, incidentally, is entertainment by herself. Today I came home from dance class to be greeted by her. I had put her in her crate, but she let herself out and cavorted around the house while I was gone. Amazingly, the only casualty was part of a toilet paper roll.

She did just take down Fairfax's flower, though--the only soft toy he hasn't destroyed. She just thought that needed to be taken care of. It took a lot of persuading to get her to drop the fluff she pulled out of the toy--she paraded around with it for quite a while.

Now she's napping--all that playtime wears a girl out!

My Pets Are Smarter Than I Am

Currently, Fairfax is sitting next to me, chewing a mint rubber toy that will shortly become green confetti, contemplating a great escape to the bed in the guestroom or possibly the downstairs couch--places he is not allowed to be, but believes are his. He knows when I'm so focused on something that I won't notice if he slips away, and so he waits for that moment to "drop" his bone on the ground, pick it up, glance toward me to see if I'm looking, and if I am not, he leaves my office for other parts of the house, where he can let his "manners" deteriorate and live as he feels he should, lounging on expensive furniture and terrorizing the cat.

Already today, he has chilled with Poppy on our bed (while I was eating lunch and mistakenly believed he was underneath the dining room table, because he just loves to sit with me while I eat. Not.). He has crawled under the guest bed to be just like the cat (unsurprisingly, she crawled out, and the way I found out about this was that he started barking at her to tell her she was expected to play with him and was not behaving properly). He has also slinked away with his toy to chew it on the guest bed (because that's much more fun than chewing it under supervision).

Our Guiding Eyes regional manager, and most people with a brain, would say I need to be more attentive to him, and he to me. It's true, but, also true is that I get so engrossed in reading and writing that all other input is simply a distraction.

It only occurred to me a few minutes ago to close the office door to keep Fairfax contained. This will work for a little while, until he gets bored and ditches his toy to whine at the door. After all, he believes he should have the same privileges as the cat, who is presently romping about the house. If he is smarter than me, she is smarter than both of us. She knows she is faster than he is, and she knows that playing with his tail is the best way to distress him. She knows that if she eats while he lies down next to her, it's a great way to torture him.

Most importantly, she knows that if she can't wake me up at 5:45 A.M., which is, after all, when the birds are up and everyone else should be, too, she can just wake the dog up, and his whining will ensure that the humans get up immediately. More than once, she has clawed and pawed and even bitten me at the crack of dawn, been "dismissed" from her perch on my pillow, sauntered away, and come racing back to the bed at the exact moment the dog starts whining. Coincidence? Absolutely not.

So here we'll be, for a little while longer, I at work and Fairfax chewing, the cat lounging in the guest room, until he needs a break. After all, let's not kid ourselves about who's in charge of this house. The cat runs it, he rents, and Superman and I are really just the staff.

Yes, I really did research my article on American Legion Post 25's new site in Middletown

As I walked Fairfax down E. Delaware Ave. Monday evening, a guy yelled from his friend's car, "I'd be on a leash, too, girl!" It's definitely spring. Zinnia and Basil are in full evidence in the yard, an irate robin has made our cars his enemy, and the mockingbird that dive-bombed Fairfax (and me) all last spring and summer is baaaack. Daphne DuMaurier was onto something with The Birds; this bird makes me scream every single time it flies into me. Iiiick.

Last night, Superman left the keys in the door all night. I found them when I went to swimming this morning. It never ceases to amaze me how lucky one can be. When I lived in San Francisco, I housesat for a guy who lived way up at the top of the Shrader St. hill in a cool "Tales of the City" type place. I parked my car after a long day at work and promptly left the keys in the ignition. All night. Still there when I got up the next day, though.

The weather is exactly like California, and I love it. I've got great projects right now and am working full-time and then some. It rocks. Tonight: fish tacos with sashimi-grade fish. Sweet!

Have a sunshiney day!

Spring in New Orleans

I often get my best travel info from other people's blogs, so I've decided to do more with mine. I've written about Delaware, Maryland, and Pennsylvania since moving here, but I haven't done much with California, which is shameful, since I always prided myself on being a great tour guide (after 30 years in the state, I'd hope so!). I wrote about Kauai when we went, and I think I'll do the same with New Orleans.

I am not, and have never been, a Bourbon Street person. Matt insists upon walking down it every chance he gets, for the high entertainment value, but for those of us who prefer our streets clean and smelling like flowers, Bourbon is not a destination.

The first time I visited New Orleans, I was speaking at a conference at the Wyndham Hotel, and it was booked. I blindly booked a room at the Royal Sonesta...on Bourbon Street. Let's just say I didn't sleep very well. Fortunately, I was only there two nights, since I had gotten hit by a van while running two days before my flight and wasn't going to go at all. However, my flight got cancelled, I got a refund, the next day I was bored to tears, so I ended up taking the flight I'd been rebooked on and heading to The Big Easy.

My Irish friend Sarah and I ate at the Red Fish Grill (on...you guessed it, Bourbon Street), where our Egreetings.com coworker Mitch had been a cook. I hear it's still good, but there are better places. We went on a ghost tour, got bored, and ended up shopping for tacky souvenirs...probably on Bourbon Street. We visited the Carousel Bar at the Hotel Monteleone and snuck up to the rooftop pool. We had beignets and hot chocolate at Cafe Du Monde and bribed a cab driver to drive us around the Garden District, then learned about the $1.25 trolley. The morning Sarah left, I took a morning walk through the French Quarter while they were hosing down Bourbon Street, glad that I never got the bright idea to go to Mardi Gras.

When we returned last November, my first time back since that conference, we stayed at the wonderful Maison Dupuy, with its reasonable rates, pleasant cafe, beautiful courtyard, and off-the-beaten-path location on Burgundy and Toulouse in the French Quarter.

Our best meal on that trip was at Muriel's, a beautifully designed space on Jackson Square that combines the old and the modern very creatively. Oh, and the food's great. We also really enjoyed Cafe Royal, a coffee shop on Royal Street.

This time, we repeated our Maison Dupuy stay and Muriel's dinner, with additional stops at the classic Brennan's (flaming strawberries, anyone?), lunch at Lucy's, amazing salsa at El Gato Negro, a mellow dinner at EAT New Orleans, and less adventurous lunches at the Uptown Whole Foods and Gordon Biersch. Breakfast took place at Cafe Beignet, which has better beignets than Cafe Du Monde and decent coffee, and our favorite cafe, Cafe Envie, a fabulous space in the very corner of the Quarter with cold drip coffee and amazing breakfast.

I attended a surprising amount of the conference--I couldn't miss Matt and Jason's talks, of course, but I also heard a researcher with whom Matt works occasionally give a talk and attempted to understand several others (I failed). I even went to "SciMix," the big poster session! Whoohoo! There was free beer.

When I wasn't hangin' with the chemists, I went to the fabulous Ogden Museum of Southern
Art, a can't miss collection of fantastic pieces. Matt and I took the streetcar to Tulane and Audobon Park and wandered around Uptown and the Garden District, and I took the streetcar out to the Museum of Art, its sculpture garden, and City Park, out in Mid-City. I'd leave that for your last activity if you're visiting. It's a long, slow trip out there, and truthfully, I enjoyed the Ogden Museum more. I missed a few of the historic houses and gardens and would have chosen them over NOMA, in the end. The French Quarter walking tour run by the Park Service is supposed to be great, and one person I chatted with enjoyed her plantation tour. I'll just have to go back...

Tulips

They're everywhere--the true sign of spring. First it was the daffodils, then the blossoms on the trees, and now the tulips! Shame on the person who picked some of ours--fortunately, we have so many, it barely made a dent. There is a true flower thief afoot in Newark, though. Grrr.

I've been gallavanting around with my Advanced Landscape Design Class--last week we visited the Sound Garden, sculptor and UD professor John Moss' garden of sculptures focused around sound. We also learned about native purple martins in Fair Hill. We've also visited Bucktoe Creek preserve, a privately owned property devoted to organic ecology research; spent time on-site at our three project sites (UD's Early Learning Center, the Delaware Department of Agriculture, and the Newark Farm); and talked a lot about Doug Tallamy's book, Bringing Nature Home, which makes the case for planting native plants as often as possible to continue to preserve habitat for native insects, birds, and other wildlife.

I'm definitely on board with native plants, but I also feel that well-managed bulbs and annuals can add seasonal beauty to a garden and warm a gardener's heart without becoming invasives like multiflora rose and Eucalyptus. Many would argue that I'm wrong, that seeds get carried to other locations and create a problem we won't be able to fix later, but for now, that's where I stand.

I feel a similar way about animals--this might be comparing apples to oranges, but at this point, I am incapable of killing the sparrow that seems to be taking over my birdhouse, though I know he's capable of assassinating baby bluebirds, a native bird.

But let's get back to spring. Supermom and Superdad visited last week, after Superman and I went to New Orleans for the American Chemical Society meeting (guess which one of us spent time visiting gardens and museums?). I took the 'rents to Simon Pearce on the Brandywine, Winterthur, Gibraltar, and Longwood Gardens. We also volunteered for the Colonial Market held in celebration of Newark's 250th anniversary and visited the Co-op an inordinate amount of times (four people drink a lot of milk, apparently). Great eats included an Amber Waves Bakery peach pie, scored at the aforementioned Colonial Market, lunch at the Simon Pearce restaurant, and lunch at The Whip Tavern in Coatesville, PA.

Fairfax was a major hit at Longwood. He was mobbed by children upon entry, and we met at least 50% of the garden's visitors that day, which we all loved. It's great to be able to share more about Guiding Eyes and guide dogs in general. It reinforces why we're doing this and makes us feel like we're doing a good job.

This week is all about work, as is May, since I have an exciting project due at the end of May.
Happy Spring!

Alternadelegate

I'm the alternate Obama delegate for my tiny little district in Newark, which means that if my friend Josh and the other delegate, Steve, can't go to the state convention, I'll be representin'. And you never know what might happen for the national convention in Denver this summer!

Today's job is less exciting; the dog insists that I hold his bone while he chews it, so I am currently trying to figure out how to type with one hand.

Flower Girl

Poppy likes to approve each of my floral arrangements for class. Here she is with yesterday's corsage and boutonniere, as well as with last week's arrangement, which has held up beautifully.

Arranging Flowers

I decided to go light on the coursework this term, so I'm taking "Flower Arranging for Beginners," and you know, I'm not sure if there's an advanced class, but I'd sure like to take it. Every class I take at UD is "my new favorite class," so this is my new favorite class. :) I made a topiary at the first class, last week, and successfully defended it from the lioness at my house, who thought it was a groovy new cat toy.

Yesterday, I made two arrangements that would go nicely on a tabletop for an event, were the flowers not from the supermarket (he was making a point about quality). One is symmetrical, and one is asymmetrical.

At any rate, The Poppy Communications Brand has now officially expanded. Poppy Cakes, the catering arm, is booked for two events in February, and Poppy Design is available for all of your garden, floral, and even graphic (note: incredibly limited skill set) design needs. Plus, we work for free! Heehee.

Happy New Year

I'm supposed to be participating in a daily January blog-off with my friend Dulcy Gregory, but so far, it's day 9, and I've done nothing.

Here I am to redeem myself to myself. December saw a silver medal on the part of Dazzle, my synchronized figure skating team, pictured above. The same day, Fairfax earned his jacket from Guiding Eyes, and now has service dog privileges most places. He's learning to greet people more calmly and get through a shopping trip without incident. Occasional slips are made; I had to buy a "Barnyard Buddy" at Concord Pet last weekend after he helped himself to the treat bar as I was paying for his dog food and handsome new red collar.

Christmas was spent in Maine, snowshoeing and enjoying my first White Christmas with Superman's family. SuperCute Cousin did a phenomenal job handling Fairfax; she, like her cousin, is a Dog Whisperer, and her cat, Sweetpea, taught Fairfax to lie down when he interacts with cats, which he now does at home.

New Year's was spent, once again, at Longwood Gardens, this time with Superman's brother Dave and a few of our friends. We headed to D.C. on New Year's Day for what was probably only the second day of the year (Christmas being the first) without traffic in the city. We went to the Udvar-Hazy annex to the Air and Space Museum first, then drove into town to see the Natural History and American Indian museums. We attempted to get dinner at our favorite place in Woodley Park, the Lebanese Taverna, but they were closed for New Year's Day, so we headed home through Chevy Chase and Bethesda to have a home-cooked meal.

January has started off well; plenty of work, a flower-arranging class, more ice skating and more puppy classes, and achievable New Year's Resolutions. I am kickboxing at the UD gym twice a week, swimming four days a week, strength training three times a week, ice skating, and walking the dog. I hope to be Bionic by February. :)

Happy 2008!