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!

Rock and Roll Superstar

I met Bob Mould, my punk rock idol, a few weeks ago at a great show he did at World Cafe Life in Philadelphia. We went with neighbor Mike, and not only was the trip up smooth, parking was easy and well-lit, and the venue was hands-down the nicest place I've ever seen live music (although UD's theaters come really close). We had a fantastic dinner and great wine/beer before Bob's Q&A session, watched him do a combination acoustic/electric set (I just get weak in the knees when he busts out that blue Fender Stratacaster), and then enjoyed his new DVD, Circle of Friends. The boys, apparently more aged than I, were chomping at the bit to get home to bed (true, it was a school night, and I do have a more flexible workday), so they dragged me kicking and screaming out of the theater to buy my DVD and have Bob sign it. Not only did he sign it, he shook my hand AND took a picture with me! My life is complete...I met Bob Mould. He has no idea what an inspiration he is to people...not only is his entire body of music lyrically significant and musically unique, but his intelligence as a blogger and speaker really make him stand out as a public figure. Bet you didn't know he wrote the theme song for The Daily Show. Buy his stuff--Husker Du, Sugar, and his solo albums. If you heart punk rock and alt. rock like I do, you won't be sorry.

Rebuilding New Orleans, Two Years After Katrina

While I was in New Orleans for Matt's Soil Science Society of America conference, I had an opportunity: join four other UD folks and the St. Bernard Project (http://www.stbernardproject.org/) to work on a house in St. Bernard Parish. My friend Jen Gilbert, determined that the brain and muscle power attending the conference should be dedicated to a good cause while in New Orleans, had attempted to organize a larger volunteer project in conjunction with the conference. There was a group that volunteered before our UD contingent arrived, but Jen wasn't going to let the opportunity to slip by while she was in the city. She got on message boards several months before the conference, asking which organization people recommended we support. The St. Bernard Project got glowing reviews, so Jen signed us up, rented a van so we could get there from the French Quarter, and reminded everyone what to bring.

On Wednesday, November 7, we left our hotel at 8am and drove to St. Bernard Parish. As the St. Bernard Parish Project explains on its website, the community is adjacent to the Lower Ninth Ward, and 100% of its residences and businesses flooded when the levees failed. As we drove into the area, my heart sank and my throat constricted. Almost every single structure had a huge X on its front, with the National Guard Unit number and date they checked the building. At the bottom was the number of dead found inside the building. We only saw zeros, but of course we all know that there were fatalities.

The Wal-Mart wasn't even open yet, but some businesses were open, and some homes had clearly been rebuilt. Many homes were under construction, FEMA trailers parked in the yard or driveway. But then there were the sadder sites--parking lots right on the main road filled with FEMA trailers, themselves filled with entire families and even pets. Two and a half years after a national disaster, how are people who have worked all their lives still living in trailers?

When we arrived at the office of the St. Bernard Project, we learned that the organization was begun in August 2006 when a couple visiting from Washington, D.C. observed "the overwhelming need for rebuilding assistance" and started the group to rebuild and renovate homes. The organization had a piece of butcher paper on the wall that said 83 families in the community are now back in their homes, and 21 houses are under construction. The organization raises funds for building materials and overhead, recruits volunteers, and builds home. Our UD crew was heartened by the simplicity of the organization.

On Tuesday 11/6, I had read an article in the New York Times about how haphazard and even risky much of the rebuilding in New Orleans is. My take-away was that it's all well and good to talk about how the re-build might have been done, but that should have happened in September of 2005, and plans should have been drawn up immediately, allowing a systematic method of rebuilding and re-homing of survivors. Instead, nothing was done...for two years. I really don't care about some New Urbanist architect's vision of how New Orleans should be rebuilt, unless that person has a plan to make it happen RIGHT NOW. Even as a fledgling landscape designer, I think the residents of St. Bernard Parish should get into their homes ASAP.

Matt and his colleague Brandon, the son of a master electrician, went to the home of a nice Filipino lady who took their pictures (she takes the pictures of all her volunteers, she told them). She told Matt and Brandon that after the flood, she stayed in fifteen shelters before getting home six months later. Another man in the neighborhood, who had served in the U.S. Military and is a retired police officer, told them that he had spent six days on the roof. On the second day, he assured his neighbor that the U.S. Military can deploy anywhere in the world in three days and that they'd be there momentarily. Instead, it was the Canadian Mounties that rescued them, days later.

Jen, her boyfriend Sean, and I went to another home in the neighborhood, that had been re-wired and had plumbing installed. We insulated almost the whole house, a grueling job that can't even compare to what the family has been through. They had already moved some of their things into the house, and the bathroom was even decorated, though it had no walls yet. I found myself choking up as I observed the small refrigerator, bike, and bathroom rug.

A woman from down the street popped in, smiling brightly as she took stock of our work. Cheryl had been on her roof for four days after the flood (she said it took eight minutes for the water to get from her ankles to her chin, and she was swept away by the water, but fortunately climbed onto her neighbor's roof). She and her husband got cholera from diving into the water to try to rescue one of their dogs. She is back in her house, now, after some time in Texas, and always makes sure to tell the volunteers how much the residents love them and that they can come to her house and use the facilities and see her trailer. I asked her about her trailer--did FEMA have a date by which people had to give up their trailers, like the hotel rooms? She said there had been a deadline, yes, "but now, with the formaldehyde issue, they don't care anymore."

At the end of the day, we drove around the neighborhood a bit more, with another volunteer from Brooklyn, NY. Mike, a musician and frequent visitor to New Orleans, came down this time to volunteer for two weeks. "It's not long enough," he said. "I should have come for the month." I understand his feelings. We felt like we should come back the next day. One day was something, but not nearly enough. We have the strength and energy to really make a difference there. I plan to return when Matt attends the American Chemical Society meeting this spring and work every day.

The feelings I came away with were mixed--I have great sadness and empathy for the families who are still living out this tragedy, whether they're back in their home, struggling to re-create the community that is still devastated; in the midst of rebuilding, having to take help from strangers when they've never had to before; living in a FEMA trailer in a parking lot; or in another state, trying to create a life somewhere they didn't ever expect to be. I also felt great hope, as I was waved to by neighbors and thanked by Cheryl. After all this, people have hope. They've come home. Volunteers continue to move to New Orleans to help, or even give just one day. People donate money, two years later.

The thing that hit home the most was that the story I felt I got from media accounts of the events was that the Lower Ninth Ward became a wasteland, and all of New Orleans was desolate, destroyed, and crime-ridden, without hope. In contrast, St. Bernard Parish, arguably the hardest hit, is still the middle-class community it always is, though hard-hit and reeling from the destruction. People are back, they are rebuilding, and they are trying hard to keep their community intact. The story in New Orleans is really one of survival and hope. I encourage those who have the means to get down there to volunteer or to send a donation to any of the wonderful organizations working to help people there to do so. We have the opportunity to help make this right, and we should seize that chance.

A Week in Crescent City

I've been in The Big Easy this week--Superman's entire research group, and much of the College of Ag. and Natural Resources, attended a conference here, and many spouses tagged along. The weather has been lovely, and we're staying at the pleasant Maison Dupuy hotel in the French Quarter.

The area around the New Orleans Convention Center has turned into quite the posh little stomping ground, and the Garden District remains gorgeous and inspiring.

I have also hoofed it around the French Quarter quite a bit, enjoying the historic buildings, European feel, quiet blocks, and pleasantness of morning.

Tuesday, after walking Superman to the conference, I walked along the river, pausing to visit the New Orleans Holocaust Memorial, which was beautiful and innovative. I continued on to Jackson Square, where I visited one of the state museums. My next stop was The 1850 House, followed by a visit to my new favorite cafe, Royal St. Coffee. I attempted to tour another restored house that the NY Times has lauded, but the timing was off, so I returned to the hotel to relax and work a bit.

That evening, we went to a UD/VA Tech mixer and dinner at the original House of Blues with the gang. Who knew, but it's hard to find vegetarian food in New Orleans, so I've eaten a lot of salad and indulged in some treats.

The animals here are a kick--all these very friendly, mellow cats and dogs. There is a Cockatiel around the corner that says "hi" when you walk by, and if you stop and talk to the bird, it will climb up the iron door it sits in and then slide down it! When we clap, it bows for us. It's really cute.

I could live here easily--the more we get out and about, the more friendly people we meet. The climate is so mild and the people so friendly, it's easy to see how badly people wanted to get home after Katrina. Yesterday, we volunteered for the day in St. Bernard Parish, a very meaningful and transformative day for me. I'll write more about it in my next post.

Laissez les bons temps roulez...and carpe diem.

Punkin Chunkin

The annual Punkin Chunkin (that's the WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP Punkin Chunkin to all you rookies out there) took place last weekend. Mary and I entered the baking contest; she baked pumpkin cupcakes and frosted them with cinnamon buttercream, while I baked Susan Carney's pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.

Let's just say I should have worn that themed outfit.

The cookies turned out great, but the baking contest was much more sophisticated than Mary or I had envisioned. People threw it DOWN. We're talking fall tablecloths, real pumpkins, pumpkin confetti, pumpkin plates and napkins--one woman even served her "white chocolate pumpkin hot cocoa" out of a pumpkin soup tureen. Complete with leaf ladle.

"These are things you wish you had right now, but would never use otherwise," I whispered to Mary.

Despite any "points for presentation," Mary won third prize for cakes and desserts, scoring herself a ceramic pumpkin to use next year. I left armed with a plan for next year's decorations, but prize-free. I content myself with the fact that one of the chef-judges gave props to my chocolate chips (organic, from the Co-op). Another judge asked, "what else is in here besides the typical cookie ingredients and pumpkin? I'm detecting another flavor."

"Uh, cinnamon?" I hazarded.

That seemed satisfactory.

The chunkin itself was hilarious. Matt and Dave watched air guns for a while (if a pumpkin explodes upon being shot, everyone shouts, "Pumpkin pie!"), and Mary and I caught the chunkin of the "Yankee Siege" trebouchet (or however you spell that).

It was quite a day. We were all so tired that night that Fairfax put himself to bed during dinner, and Dave crawled in with him.

And another Halloween season comes to a close.

Mum's the Word

I have a ghost on my street...or, more likely a pre-Halloween reveler needed some curb appeal. My chrysanthemum has been kidnapped!

Superman said tentatively over breakfast, "I have some unfortunate news."

"Yes?" I responded, concerned that he'd read something terrible in the news.

"Your mum has been stolen. They left some flowers on the sidewalk." An offering? A diss? A sign from God not to plant annuals? I don't know.

Good thing my Halloween jack-o-lantern pot is safe inside on the sun porch, and good thing I moved my cute pot with flowers and geranium to the back porch!

Passersby will have to be content with the limited curb appeal of my pumpkin lights until tomorrow, when I will be putting new pots out with new flowers.

It's a lovely day here, and I have seen some funny sights...a witch working in the Employee Wellness Center and two women in elaborate costumes walking downtown...seems like the adults are having more fun than the kids are!

Happy Halloween!

Happy Howloween

The Great Pumpkin Bake-Off

Stacie's mom's chocolate chip pumpkin cookie recipe has been accepted for the annual Delaware Punkin Chunkin Bake-Off! I'm entering that, Mary's entering pumpkin bars, and we're working on cupcakes together. We get judged next Saturday, which means we have to be down in the middle of nowhere, DE, by 11 am on a Saturday, with enough pumpkin treats to feed a crowd. Sweet. I'm tempted to wear a themed outfit but will try to restrain myself.

I should add that the Bake-Off is a lesser-known aspect of the one, the only, the annual World Championship Punkin Chunkin: http://www.punkinchunkin.com/

Folks come from all over to watch pumpkins get "chunked" as far and as effectively as possible. More on that when I actually see it.

This month and next feature trips to NYC (yesterday, for a client product event), Huntington, PA (tomorrow), New Orleans (next Sunday, for a few days), Cali (aaah Thanksgiving), and then we stay put until Christmas, when we go to Maine.

Fairfax will be dressing up as a skeleton for Halloween. His best gal pal Peyton is going as a princess. Stay tuned for photos...

It's Fall

The humidity temporarily leaves Delaware these days, and I am psyched. Some warm fall days feel just like the best days in San Francisco. Luxurious.

We traded Fairfax for his brother, Ferris, a few weeks ago, because he needed to go on a "home switch" and get more exposure. He is a thicker version of Fairfax, basically. He snores louder than most humans and is darling, but huge and strong, which means Superman has to muster all his superpowers every time we go on a walk (three times a day, to wear Ferris out). We'll have him again next week, and Fairfax will go to a nice UD student who's new to our group.

Zinnia the stray cat has been spending time in our flowerbed, among the zinnias! Too cute! And the groundhog is also a permanent resident...we keep catching him under cars and in the garage.

In other animal news, Nomad, the newest Guiding Eyes puppy in our region, is about as cute as they come. We think he'll grow into his ears and paws eventually.

Also, SuperCute Cousin has welcomed Sweetpea, a four-year-old black cat that we can't wait to meet. Sweetpea turned five last week. Happy birthday, princess!

I spent Labor Day weekend with Supermom, Superdad, and Superbro in the glorious Green Mountains of southern Vermont--such a treat.

September also featured the Newark Oktoberfest, dinner at The Whip Tavern in Coatesville, PA, "Terror Behind the Walls," a top-rated haunted house at the Eastern State Penintentiary in Philly, and, last week, my discovery of the Newark Reservoir (it only took a year).

Am enjoying my many (yay!) wonderful (yay!) clients and my Landscape Design class, which is my new favorite hobby. Drawing for a few hours a week? Sure!