Mint

I've no idea when this happened, but my beloved Snapple Mint Iced Tea has returned — I found it completely by chance this afternoon! All is once again right with the world.

Or it will be, once they bring back Blueberry Iced Tea.

Stay-at-Home Slippers

I must have bought these about seven years ago, right around the time my son was born. They're not much to look at (they never were), but I wore them constantly while he was younger — less so when we were doing less staying-at-home and more getting out to various therapy appointments, and then to preschool. They spent many years hidden under the bureau in my bedroom, but I rediscovered them over the past year or so and quickly adopted them as something comfortable to wear while working.

Of course, you'd never know that, given the wear they've experienced. (You can't tell from the photograph, but I'd worn enormous holes in the front of both.)

I finally bought a new pair this morning. We'll see if these last another seven years...

Just Passing Through

I am procrastinating in the worst way right now.

Sjogren's Syndrome

Apparently, I have — wait, how do I spell this again? — Sjogren's Syndrome. Or I may have, at any rate. It came up in a routine blood test. It's an autoimmune disorder. I'm a bit early for it (it tends to come on in the late forties), and it's unusual in men (it's much, much more common in women) and there is — gasp! — no known cure (so they treat the symptoms as they come, instead of the cause).

I suppose there could be a great deal to get upset about, particularly if you're the kind of person that experiences medical symptoms while reading about them (my wife is that way), and there could be rather serious effects — but I'm not all that concerned. I'm not even sure I've exhibited any of the common symptoms.

It seems that a purple ribbon is worn to promote Sjogren's Syndrome awareness, but could also represent some two dozen other causes as well, which seems rather confusing. Perhaps there's some sort of wink-and-nod or a secret handshake that is used to distinguish Sjogren's Syndrome patients from, say, someone wanting to call attention to the risks of drug overdose.

Forbidden

I'll come out when I hear them making noise on the deck, chasing after one another or climbing on the furniture, not too long after dark. They're excited and very animated when they see me — they'll often run away, but then when they realize who I am, they come scurrying back, to sniff and paw at my feet. (I try not to wear sandals when I do this, just to be safe.) The more timid one will usually peek at me from the edge of the deck, only to come up when everyone else is eating. They still don't trust me, not completely, not enough to be completely comfortable around me, which is probably for the best.

It's a bit like a forbidden romance, really. You know it must end, sooner or later, but you enjoy the small moments while you can (and you hope nothing leaves a mark you'd have to explain).

Steinbeck

I went into watching Of Mice And Men afraid that, after years of seeing the characters relentlessly parodied in cartoons, I'd never be able to take it seriously. But it's been years since I read the novel, and I'd forgotten how deeply sad the story is. Now I wonder if I'll ever be able to watch the cartoons in the same way again.

Bronchitis

Why is it I can't just 'catch a cold' and be done with it? I'd just take a cold remedy, bury myself under several layers of blankets, sleep it off, and be better the next day, or perhaps the day after that. These past few years, though, when my son brings home some exotic virus from school, it taps him lightly on the shoulder and completely knocks me over.

This time? Bronchitis. I did my best to ignore it last week, but it finally caught up with me yesterday.

Canal

I think I've discovered what I want to do for my next vacation. (It's been so long since I've had a formal vacation, I think this might even be my first.) Did you know? You can rent a boat and travel the length of the Erie Canal (it runs the length of upstate New York). The boats are well-accomodated (almost a floating hotel room), and while the small towns along the way are supposed to be the big attraction, I think I'd enjoy the quiet of a peaceful journey — and sights like this one.

The Bird and The Bee

I had a $5.00 credit with Amazon.com — but could only spend it on an MP3 Song or Album. Amazon's MP3 store seems fairly thin on music that I recognize (or don't already own), but I happened across The Bird and The Bee. And I remembered a review I'd heard on Fresh Air not too long ago...

(I must tell you, one reason I wouldn't otherwise bother with Amazon's MP3 store is that it requires the installation of a separate program to facilitate the download of purchases you make. I'm honestly not sure why that irritates me so much, but it does.)

So where was I?

There's a distinct quality of distance to the music, and even to the vocals — yet I still find it all charming and delightful. I've been completely won over.

Inside

There's a hole in the screen door in back. It's not a hole, really, but a large section where bottom has torn. It would be large enough for the cats to get through, if they knew they could. (They don't.) I know this, because it was large enough for two of the young raccoons to crawl through last night.

I was upstairs working, and hadn't noticed how late (and how dark) it was. When I went downstairs, I was greeted by two little masked faces peeking at me from the dining room. One bid a quick retreat back through the hole in the screen, and the other followed, presumably, while I was upstairs making sure the cats were all at rest. They missed out on all the excitement, which didn't last all that long to begin with. (I don't think the raccoons were in the house for more than a minute or two. I don't even think they found the bowl of cat food.) But no harm done.

One of them even tried to sneak back in beneath the screen, though he quickly scampered away when I warned him off. (I admire his persistence and curiosity.)

Make Inferences

I'm not ashamed to admit that I was confused by my son's second grade math homework this afternoon. He's been doing a unit that uses surveys as the basis for problem solving: 7 children voted for cats. 5 children voted for dogs. How many more children voted for cats than for dogs? Simple enough.

4 children voted for both dogs and cats. 3 children voted for none. Here's where I lost my way. Does that mean four voted for cats and four for dogs? Or four cast a vote for "both"? Or that four children cast two votes?

I know, I'm probably just over-thinking this, but the way the question was phrased left me confused!

Left

I've been researching and compiling a list of email addresses — hundreds of email addresses — using Google. (It's a freelance assignment.) Mostly, it's mundane. More often than not, I can't find an email address. Often, I'll find that someone has changed jobs, as the list I'm using for reference was compiled a few years ago.

I've just found an entry for someone who has died.
She was killed in an automobile accident a few months ago. She was 38 years old, and left two daughters behind. Traces of her professional career remain, and will remain, for the forseeable future, should anyone have reason to look for them.

I couldn't find her email address.

No Borders Here

Borders is one of those retailers that I'll go to only if I have a really, really good reason to do so — I've just had far too many poor experiences with them. (I try to avoid Best Buy, too, for the same reasons.)

But a 30% discount was tempting enough to get me to try again, so off I went to Borders the other day. This one was close enough that it wouldn't have been a disappointment if the item I was looking for wasn't available, though the web site said it probably was. (Take it from me — never, ever trust the web site if you're checking to see if a product is in stock.)

And it was. But I had neglected to notice that the price of the item from a Borders retail store was about $15 higher than the price of the item purchased from the web site — which more or less negated the 30% discount. (You can find the price of the item at retail when you check to see if it's available in a given store, but it's in tiny little type, so you tend not to notice it. I didn't.)

And that's why I usually shop at Barnes and Noble, instead.

(Extra points if you recognize the reference in the title of this post. It's a favorite album.)

Visceral

We have friends with a son, about a year younger than my seven-year-old, who is also Autistic. Unlike my son, his symptoms are very different, his struggles much more significant. His pediatrician (who is also our pediatrician, and who specializes in the treatment of pediatric Autistic Spectrum Disorders) has characterized him as "living in the now." Everything is about his immediate needs. His behavior primarily driven by the second of the three human brains, the Dog Brain.

You know, I often feel that way — driven by impulse. For someone who spends far too much time inside of his own head, I think I'm keenly in touch with my Dog Brain.

Medicine

It took a month, but I finally made an appointment to see the Doctor. Even after I regained my strength, the symptoms never entirely went away, and I thought it worth checking just to make sure I haven't done something worse to myself.

I have to get an X-Ray next week. And I've been prescribed some pills. I'm often wary of taking medicine, vaguely unsettled and suspicious that it really isn't necessary. I could probably do without, but I was told it would be therapeutic, so we'll give it a try.

Shorn

I've been thinking of doing this for a long, long time — it's just taken me this long to find the courage to go through with it.

A particular pattern of male pattern baldness runs through the men in my Father's side of the family. I watched my Father half-heartedly struggle against it, though I never thought all that much (or worried all that much) about it, even as the hair at the top of my head thinned out as the years passed. I've come to prefer wearing my hair short, anyway (it felt more comfortable that way), and I suppose this was just the next logical step. (I let my seven-year-old do some of it.)

I'm finding it strangely comfortable — even liberating.

Second Day

My son has his first full day in the Second Grade today. (Yesterday was a short sort of meet-your-teacher day.) He's starting off this year with the larger, mainstream class. And you know, I haven't once been worried about how he'll do.