He walks in beauty, like the night?

I witnessed something wondrous to me today. It had been a fairly routine dog romp out in the backyard. Murphy was tracking the perimeter of the yard, loping and leaping over tree roots and bushes in his way. Sadie was hiding behind the planter, waiting for him to come toward the house so she could chase him away.

Suddenly Murphy caught sight of something. I am not sure what it was, but an obvious guess would be a squirrel. Anyway, the point is this: Murphy was transformed. Gone was the clumsy "all arms and legs" one-year-old lab puppy and in his place was this magnificent beast, moving so slowly, so cautiously that I hardly recognized him. First he positioned one front paw before carefully following with the other, then the back paws would follow, gently, one at a time. He who has seemed so wild and free-spirited was now a disciplined force to be reckoned with. Such incredible grace was in this rambunctious boy of mine. He crept halfway across the yard before something broke the spell. Just as quickly as it came, the moment had gone and Murphy romped around the perimeter of the yard, all puppy once more. But for that short moment? Breath-taking!

Multi-tasking

I have decided that multi-tasking is the spawn of Satan. Really. I have just begun to hate it. I eat, wipe off the kitchen counter and make a phone call at the same time. I watch tv, pay bills and surf the internet simultaneously. I can't remember the last time I watched, I mean really watched, a whole episode of anything on tv.

I sat down this afternoon to read a good book, or at least a scary book with its being Halloween and all, but because there are so many things I want to do and need to do, I can't concentrate on reading for those things dancing through my head. It's the way I suspect ADD must feel.

Lately as I have felt dissatisfaction creeping into my life, I have wondered why. I think I have discovered the culprit. I used to pride myself that I was good at doing so much at one, but now I see this more as a weakness rather than a strength.

I don't even think it saves time like I thought it would because of the time I am spending going back and forth in my mind on what needs to be done next or planning one project while I am executing another one. (Hang on. I have to go feed the dogs.)

Anyway, as I was saying... multi-tasking is taking its toll. Even at my desk when I am working, when I hear the "beep" of my iPhone or laptop signaling new mail, I drop everything and check it and respond to it, completely losing focus on the task at hand.

So I have decided to declare war on multi-tasking. I have decided I will not be a participant in this particular way of the world. I will do what I am doing with all of my heart while I am doing it, and then I will do the next thing...and then the next thing...and then the next thing until I am through. And maybe I won't ever be through, but at least I will enjoy the process. Right now though, I am going to go take a nap. Sweet dreams.

Is nothing sacred?

A man died yesterday - someone's father... someone's son. He was hurrying to work and going too fast on the rain-slick streets. He skidded and hit a tree, and both he and his employee were killed- immediately, I hope, but I don't know that. Families were devastated. I know because his step-daughter teaches at my school.

He was a lawyer - a high profile lawyer in the city. As such, I am sure he made people mad. Lawyers tend to because they have to do unpleasant things, and some tend to just because they aren't always pleasant people. I'm not sure which category this man fell into because he wasn't familiar to me. However, he had clearly offended some people - or some lawyer had. How do I know this?

Someone had mentioned that the article about him was on the local news website. When I clicked on it, I saw not only the photo but also comments that readers had put below the story. One had written "I wonder if they will sue the tree!" Someone else had written "No, the tree was only an innocent bystander. They will probably sue the curb."

Now these were clever comments. They would even be clever lawyer humor at another time - but not now. Not when family members are grieving. Not when those who loved him could see the comments - regardless of how you felt about the man. Not now...

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine!

Each morning as I drive in the near dark through a ritzy part of the city on my way to work, I see a woman who I assume is a housekeeper in one of the neighborhood homes. Beside her, wandering freely, is an older, slightly chunky black lab. Although it's too dark to know for sure, I am almost positive he is male. It's just a feeling I have. He never gets too far from her, and she just plugs along beside him, taking advantage of this exercise time for herself as well. They have begun to feel like old friends to me.



About two weeks ago they were out there, but something had changed. He was still wandering; she was still walking. But now a small light seemed to go before the dog wherever he went. It wasn't a reflector catching my car lights; I knew that. This was something different. Curious about it, I slowed down to see...and laughed out loud. Now the lab has begun to carry a flashlight in his mouth, undoubtedly trained to do so as a safety measure. He is sniffing, roaming, foraging and all while the beam of the flashlight dances along in front of him - almost like Tinkerbell with Peter Pan. It never fails to make me smile.

For the first time...

I wish I were opening To Kill a Mockingbird tonight for the first time...or A Tree Grows in Brooklyn...or the first Harry Potter book. It was such an incredible high to read each of these, but rereading them never quite recaptures the magic of the first time. I remember seeing The Sound of Music and the first views of Salzburg or the Alps with Maria (aka Julie Andrews) running across an edelweiss-laden field. I thought my heart would stop when the Captain sang for the first time in a long time with his children for the Baroness. On one New Year's Day I saw the newly-released Camelot and thought about it all day. Now when it's on tv, I don't even take the time to watch it. Nothing is ever quite the same the second time. I revisit things over and over and there's joy to be had in them, but I can't recapture the feeling of the first time although I always try.

Sure, 30 Rock is great, but The Mary Tyler Moore Show? Incomparable! Oh, to have the series begin this season for the first time. I would still have the death of Chuckles the Clown ahead of me.

This summer I went to Herrnhut, Germany. I will never forget it. I suspect I will be able to recall exact sounds and smells for years to come. It was that impacting. However, when my friend asked me to come again next summer, I knew I wouldn't. To revisit would take away from the first time. It would have high points, but the first visit would somehow seem diluted.

It's even true of food, I think. The first time I had Moeller's gingerbread men, I couldn't believe that anything could be that wonderful - just like I thought all gingerbread men should taste but never did. I still buy them, but they never quite strike me the same way they did that first Christmas in Houston.

Here's the problem with all of this. I don't think the "firsts" now are as thrilling as they used to be. Novels have too often turned seedy or so unsettling that I feel more nervous than satisfied after reading them. Movies too often seem mediocre with the occasional exception, of course. Who can forget the opening scene with Bilbo Baggins and the Hobbits in Lord of the Rings or Gandalf battling the ancient spirit on the bridge? "You will go this far and no farther!" Famous last words...at least until the sequel. And what about the first shot of the dining hall at Hogwarts with lights floating in the air? It was just magic - in more ways than one. But for the most part, it's harder to feed the addiction of the thrill of the new, the blush of first love- not just of boyfriend crushes but with the rest of life. I don't think about this all the time, but I do occasionally. Today I did.

A sign of the times?

Last night as I drove to the grocery store, I passed some of the more creative Halloween house decorations I have ever seen. I am not rabidly against Halloween as I once was. I don't celebrate it, and I turn my lights off early to avoid the rovers who are about 18 years old and come from parts unknown to trick or treat. Other than that, though, to me, though, it's just another night.

However, as I drove last night, I found myself thinking about what a visual it is of the times we are in. For a celebration of demons, ghosts and goblins we are going all out. There are adorable blow-up haunted houses (if haunted houses can really be adorable). Lights look like candy corn with orange and yellow alternating around house columns. Trees have bigger-than-life spider webs spanning them. Not all the houses have decorations, of course; it's still smaller than Christmas. But decorations do seem to increase each year. It does look festive at night, and it's easy to be drawn into the fervor of it.

I live near a neighborhood famous for its Christmas decorations. Each year I load the dog and drive around almost every evening in December. Hayrides pass with people laughing and singing Christmas carols. People stroll around, bundled up for the brisk 60 degrees winter weather here in Houston. It's a wonderful atmosphere.

Last year, though, it seemed like things were shifting. I realize that it could have been the economy. It could have even been Hurricane-Ike-related. So many things that you wouldn't have thought seemed to be related. But for whatever reason, there was a change. Fewer lights twinkled on trees and around door posts. Fewer nativity scenes rested peacefully in front yards. There were still reindeer and snowmen, but their number seemed to be dwindling. It seems that young families are beginning to buy the houses from those who led the way on the decorations, and the young ones just aren't following the lead. It doesn't just seem to be the case in this neighborhood, either. I just don't think I see as many Christmas decorations as I used to.

It seems to me to be an indicator of where we are these days. Halloween is beginning to be more en vogue than Christmas. Halloween... the night of the spirits, the holy night of hell. Christmas... the night of the birth of our Lord, "O Holy Night." I am saddened to see things change.

Parent Conferences

Parent conference day...that day when we find the nicest way to say the less-than-positive comments about our students. Thank God we don't have many bad situations! It's funny, though; having dogs has given me lots more understanding.

At times parents can be so defensive if we don't think everything their child says is wonderful. Anything less than a superlative causes a frown to begin at the corner of parental lips. I get it, though. When I walk with Sadie and someone doesn't oooh and aaaah over her and the marvel that she is, I begin planning a vendetta against them. That my friends haven't taken the time to come meet Murphy J. is just appalling to me; how could they wait to see the best male dog ever to hit the face of this earth?

I even have a better handle on divorced-parent guilt. Their version? "I ran off with someone else, and you aren't in my life much anymore, but I will buy you a Lamborghini even though you don't drive yet." My version? "I have to stay late at work, and it's raining outside but you can't come in; here's a T-bone steak." Different bribes, same guilt.

I have often fumed at parents who expect from one child what another child produced. So Son Number One has already been published in a textbook by age 18. Number two Son probably won't ever do that, even at the age of 35. Same with the guys at home. Sadie learned to "sit" and "down" like a champ without too much input from me. Murphy? Well, he sits for food, and I find myself more and more grateful for that since I have begun the process of teaching him the basic dog tricks. But...and this is an important "but"...Murphy adores me. Murphy gazes up at me with eyes brimming with passion. Murphy smears himself across my lap with complete confidence that a place is waiting there for him. Surely that's a worthwhile trade-off. Sadie can sit, down and even heel, but sometimes she's just not in the mood to visit - almost cat-like in that way. Murphy can't bear for me to leave his side...sometimes a little cloying, but everyone loves to be loved.

I must go and prepare for another conference now. I feel ready now.

Change of Seasons

Spring fever is obvious. Everyone feels it coming; it's universal. But for some reason this fall I have autumn fever. Students have had it, too. I have wondered if it's because the summer was so hot, so unrelenting. Or maybe it's the monsoons that followed. Both were irregular.

Holiday season is here, but it's not really because of that. I don't even celebrate Halloween. (If I did, I would be a happy camper. Goblins, haunted houses, ghosts...everywhere!) Even with the decorations, it doesn't feel like holiday season. Just as I do in springtime, I feel restlessness, as if something is just around the corner. I wonder what it is.

Ah sweet mystery of life...

...I haven't found you. Today the rains come and the rains go. I thought we were through for a while, but it is clouding up again. I don't mind rain, but the house gets messy and dogs get messy. It's just messy. But inside? When I am cozy and looking out? Thunder...lightning? I love it!

I left my heart in...Germany!

October 21, 2009

I bustled about the city this morning, surrounded by the usual cacophony of city sounds: sirens, honking horns, radios blaring from minivans passing by. The noise is constant. In the midst of it all, I found myself remembering this summer and my five days in Herrnhut, Germany.

The whole time I was there, I never heard a television or a car horn. I don't even remember hearing a telephone. Now, I know all of those things were there, but I didn't have to hear them. The stillness was remarkable.

What I do remember is the sound of church bells on the quarter hour, echoing across the fields and pastures of green gold. Occasionally I would hear a single dog bark or the baas of friendly sheep by the roadside.

The harvesting machines sounded like a distant ski boat on a summer lake back home. Of course there were cars, but they were few and far between, and their sound seemed to easily dilute in the surrounding quietness.

The sights stay with me still- vegetable gardens next to blueberry bushes.

Flowers everwhere I looked, even in front of the local food market.

In front of the plant nursery, a blackboard sign announced plants and produce for sale.

Beside the road crab apple trees were blooming. In September regular apple trees bloom, but crab apples were thrilling enough for me.

I stayed in one of the little towns right outside if Herrnhut which is itself quite small. (to be continued)