Contingency Plans to Move

It's no secret that Ron and I, and both sets of our parents, are deeply saddened that George Bush was reelected to a second term as US President. See my other blog (link at left) for my thoughts on both Bush's victory and Kerry's loss.

It's one thing to have feelings and reactions. It's another thing altogether to act on them.

Ron, Andrea and I have agreed that, if George Bush reinstitutes the miitary draft, and if Andrea is eligible to be drafted, we will move out of the United States, to either Great Britain or Canada.

Bush's Middle East wars are immoral, and Andrea will neither fight nor die there.

Simple as that.

Clueless in Fatherhood?

I assumed that when I first heard that I would be a grandmother, I would instantly feel ecstatic. I love babies, and will be thrilled and humbled to grandparent.

I got the good news last week that I will be blessed with my first grandchild next May. And I feel......worried, not terribly joyous. Incredulous. Not because I'm too young.....far from it. It's just that....well....my 26 year old son, a father? My God...I'm not sure I trust him yet to babysit his 13 year old sister.

So now I have a new concern. Letting go.....not interfering and controlling the situation. No hovering.

It is stunning to imagine him as a father, and all that entails. I don't think he has a clue.

Inside Report by One Elections Pollworker

On Nov 2, I had the first-time privilege of being a precinct officer (fancy word for pollworker). I'd volunteered for many elections, but this was my first appointment by the county Registrar of Voters (ROV).

I wanted to be a pollworker for this particular election for 2 reasons: First, to honor, support and be part of the democratic process. Voting is an enormous privilege and responsibility, and people are only free when they can vote to decide the course of their government. Second, I wanted to do my part to ensure that the election in my family's corner of the world was fair. It was, indeed, fully non-partisan, and undoubtedly fair and complete.

Normal turnout, sans absentee ballots and early voting, ranges from 30 to 50%. Tuesday, our precinct turnout hovered around 80%. It was thrilling: every voter was on fire to express their opinion. The electorate was energized, and every voter was convinced that their vote mattered.

It was thrilling...and incomprehensibly exhausting. All went well. Our voter qualification lists were quite accurate and updated. Electronic voting worked perfectly. Voters were courteous, friendly and scrupulously non-partisan. Our 8-person volunteer team processed a record 1020 ballots, and about 50 provisional ballots for voters with registration problems. My task to was initially identify and qualify voters at the front door, and I assisted 569 citizens to vote in 13 hours.

A few images of Nov 2 will stay with me.....

- The Spanish-speaking woman who became a US citizen just 3 weeks ago. With the assistance of her adult daughter, she was deeply touched to cast her first ballot for the Presidency.

- The mother assisting her adult Downs-syndrome son to vote. "He follows it all on TV," she said. "He loves to vote. He insists on voting."

- The many elementary-aged children who came so that they could watch their parents vote.

- The college students who came home from campus to cast their votes.

- The innumerable families that ensured that every household member voted....mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents. (We joked that a few families were so large, that they could sway the elections.)

- Two especially elderly citizens...a man and a woman...who each struggled fragilely in on walkers, sample ballots in hand, determined to voice their opinions.

It was physically demanding work. I went 4 hours at a time without standing or stretching. We subsisted on microwaved hot dogs, chips and candy bars. My total break time was perhaps 20 minutes. My biggest concern was that, by mid-afternoon, my eyes were swollen and a bit blurry.

I haven't written about procedures and controls in place to ensure that voting is complete and accurate. It's boring, detailed stuff, although incredibly important to the voting process. I stayed until 10 PM to make sure the inspector could reconcile the ballot count. It was a kick to see summarized electronic voting results for our precinct long before the ROV, press and voting public. Current voting procedures are cumbersome, but are designed to assure all that electronic voting is safe and secure....not designed for effiiciency.

The integrity of pollworkers at our location was at the highest level, and most workers were pleasant, sociable and flexible. One woman brought new meaning to nit-picking and finger-pointing, but thank God I wasn't teamed with her.

They want me to return for future elections. Would I return? Yes, gladly. It's a great way to support our community and country. But it would be nice if voter turnout was a bit less.....

Teenage Trash Talk from Mervyns

Seen on tee shirts sold at Mervyns for teenage girls......

- Someone's boring me, and I think it's you
- I'm hot
- Cancun
- Boys are great. I think every girl should own one.
- Not listening
- Too young for Ashton
- I'm having a crisis. Take me to the nearest mall.
And my personal favorite......
- He loves me. I love his friend.

Just imagine the fuss if boys wore similar trash-talk fashion denigrating girls, or flaunting sexuality and superficiality. Just imagine parents who would allow their daughters to wear such junk. Just imagine the aspirations and hopes of girls who want to wear these shirts.

The Gymnast with Writer's Block

Eunice is tiny...unimaginably tiny....yet she's anything but fragile, mentally or physically. I tutor 9 year old Eunice weekly in writing. Eunice is a top-ranked, gold-medal winning, Olympic hopeful gymnast. As such, she aspires to perfection, and she expects and is expected to obtain it.

Eunice received a B in writing from her 4th-grade school district teacher (She's home-schooled to accommodate practice and tournament schedules.)...her first academic B....so her parents turned to our local library's literacy tutoring program (me) for help. They were shocked by Eunice's imperfection. Mandarin Chinese is the main language spoken at home, but English proficiency is not the problem.

To succeed at gymnastics, Eunice practices 30 hours a week. She's learned to apply her formidable will and stamina to accomplish gymnastic and academic tasks. With laser focus, she masters spelling, grammar, math, science and history as well as parallel bars, floor execises and the horse vault.

Writing requires creativity and relaxation, not focus and control. Writing requires observation, interest in people and surroundings and a sense of humor. Writing takes soul, not muscle or memory.

Eunice's school essays are lacking imagination and detail, but they have perfect punctuation and spelling, perfect sentence construction, perfect spacing. Eunice has classic writer's block. No ideas...nothing to say. Each week I strive to find the other Eunice....the little girl, the child, the person....and to harness her personal passions into writing. I need to teach her a different way to accomplish goals.

She loves to eat pizza, ice cream and mushroom soup. She used to have parakeets, but they flew away one day. She likes the color pink. She attends church and knows the Bible well. Her fave cable channels are Disney, Nickelodeon and FoodTV. She especially watches Jacques Torres, the French chocolatier who constructs intricate gourmet edibles.

So to one tutoring sesson, I brought an illustrated cookbook about elaborate chocolate desserts. We studied the luscious photos, and fantasized about tasting the creations. We had great fun giggling over black forest cakes, chocolate apricot sorbet and raspberry ganache truffles. Eunice wrote a creative, interesting essay about making and eating white chocolate mousse towers.

This week, tiny Eunice looked tired. She explained that on Sunday, she won 3 gold medals, but slipped in one event. She failed to secure her normal overall first place. She came in third, behind two rivals. At our session, she forced herself to obediently focus, but she was distant and distracted. She wrote a few pieces for me, but they were brief and barren. I praised her anyway, of course, and asked her to write essays about pizza and roses for next week.

Her mother approached me later in the library, and anxiously asked, "How is she doing? Is she improving? Maybe if she practices spelling and sentences more. Will she get an A?"

I hope I can help Eunice. I'm not sure.

Honorary Foods of Fall/Winter 2004

As chief cook, I declare an honorary food (or two) each season. I experiment with new dishes and new ideas using that food. I learn both the chemistry and romance of the chosen food...how it feels, smells, tastes and reacts when cooked different ways. Family and friends feast on the results.

The White home's honorary foods of Fall/Winter 2003 were pumpkin and cakes. I made cakes almost every week for our Friday Family group. Some cakes were superb...some were less than smashing successes. (All were eaten, I might add.) I made pumpkin cakes, pumpkin soups, pumpkin-veggie dishes, pumpkin cookies. My speciality last season was a pumpkin cheesecake that I took to potlucks and served at holiday get-togethers.

Our honorary foods of Fall/Winter 2004 are soups and apples. I confess....I've been negligent in whipping up apple dishes, because Ron and Andrea crave my homemade soups. We've had unseasonably early cold rains, and our Southern California air feels more like post-Thanksgiving than pre-Halloween. So soup season has begun.

I've created 4 homemade soups in 2 weeks, and all have been aromatic, hearty, healthy and oh-so-delicious. Both declared my Mexican tomato chile soup to be their fave thusfar, although I'm partial to the French country chicken herb soup with pasta shells.

To start the Mexican tomato chile soup, simmer one chicken carcass in 8 cups water for several hours, until the fragrance fills your home and chicken bits are falling off the bones. (Tip - never throw away chicken carcasses. Freeze for homemade chicken stock. I learned that tip on FoodTV.) Fish the carcass and loose bones out of the stock, remove remaining meat from the bones, and put chicken shreds back into the soup.

Add to the stock and simmer for 30 minutes...a 14.5 oz can diced Mexican-style tomatoes, a 14.5 oz can unseasoned diced tomatoes, 1/2 can mild Ortega chiles, 2 tbspns garlic powder, 2 substantial sprinkles of garlic salt and Tabasco to taste. Garnish with grated cheddar cheese and sour cream, and serve with warmed corn tortillas and your favorite sandwiches. We savored this soup with my in-demand Dijon egg salad on whole wheat.

I wonder if they'll eventually let me meet my apple goals this season?

Days of Adolescence

Adolescence...those years from 11 to 14....is exhausting for our children. (The whole parenting thing is exhausting for moms and dads. That's a given and another subject.) Their bodies are growing and changing more quickly and radically than at any other time in life. Peer pressure morphs from child's play into tidal waves of temptation. At times, middle school work feels harder, bigger and wider than the Pacific Ocean. And parent's expectations become more evident than ever. Everyday is new...new choices, new freedoms, new ideas, new pressures,

My 8th grade, 13 year old Andrea had not yet stirred this morning at 7:10 AM. She usually rises at 6:30, reads her Bible, refreshes the bird cage, and organizes for school. She's naturally an early riser, an organized girl, a great student. She hates to be late. I quietly walked into her room.....she's huddled under blankets, sound asleep like when she was my baby.

Me: Andrea.....it's 7, sweetie. Time to get up.

Andrea: Uh......uh.....what?

Me: Karena's Dad will be here soon. Time to get up.

Andrea: Uh...oh no. Oh no. Uh..... (she sits up, panics....finally stands. I leave the room....progress is in motion.)

I walk in to my office, listening to her scurrying. Bathroom noises, drawers opening, papers shuffled into her backpack. Sounds of morning chaos.

Me: Everything OK? Can I make your lunch for you? (She prefers to make her own lunch menu.)

Andrea: (walks into my office and puts her arms around my neck) Mom?

Me: Yes, honey?

Andrea: What day is it?