I knew it!

The genealogical fun continues this evening as I wander far, far, really far into my past. You know, like a thousand years ago. I'm always hoping to find some gem- like a distinctly Turkish name or something. That would be cool.

Well, this gets pretty good. Bear with me. About a million generations back, we are descended from Archbishop Håkon Thorersson of Oslo (early 1200's). Yesss! (Never mind that he married his sister.) Oh, and his mother, Sigrid Havtoresdatter Eyre-Iceland, was Icelandic of course. I knew I was more Scandinavian than that! He is also the great-great-great-grandson of Cecilie Sigurdsdatter, Princess Of Norway (1153-1185), who is the granddaughter of Malfrid Princess of Russia (1098-1137) (what?! I'm Russian?). This Russian princess gal was married to the Norwgian King Sigurd "The Crusader" (naturally). And he's the son of Magnus III 'the Bare-Footed' King of Norway (1050-1103) who is buried in Ireland- and I'll give you three guesses as to why. Now, Malfrid's heritage is really cool. She is of Russian, English, and Swedish (what?! I'm Swedish, too?) royal blood. Really royal. And her paternal great-grandmother was... wait for it... Maria, Princess of the Byzantine Empire (1018-1067) who married the Duke of Kiev. And, yes, Maria is the daughter of Konstantinos IX, Emperor of the Byzantine Empire (980-1055).

I am content. I can now go to bed.

Oh, and I'm sure you were wondering: all their temple work has been reserved.

The New Year's Day Walk

It used to be a hike, long ago, before there were children. I'm not positive when it began, either. Perhaps its origins can be traced back to our engagement on New Year's Day fifteen years ago whilst walking the trail around Walden Pond in Massachusetts. All I know is that now it's a solid tradition.

Every year we take a New Year's Day walk to shake out the previous year's dust and regain the clarity of our vision, assess the past and hope for the future. We've taken these walks in a number of places. Walden has been on the list twice. There were many memorable NYDWs in the foothills above Stanford in Palo Alto, one in Ankara, and a few scattered across the US as we have celebrated with family. The Robert Frost Trail in Vermont is a perennial favorite when we're there, although one year it was too snowy and we simply walked a path around our property in the moonlight after the kids were in bed. This year we went for two: one with just the 6 of us around Bon Air Park in Arlington and one combined with my sister's family in the woods and neighborhood near my folks' house in Fairfax.

The location isn't as important as the conversations, and neither is as important as the quality of the company. It's just so nice to be moving forward together and discuss a few family highlights, some rough spots, and touch on several items for the year ahead.

2010- may it hold many pleasant surprises for you and those you love. Happy New Year!

4272x2848

I’m considering some goals for the New Year. Nothing drastic, just some ideas for refinement. Some of them are very similar to things I worked on last year with a few minor changes. Some are brand new.

Resolution has several meanings. In medicine, it refers to the solving of a problem or healing of an issue. The base verb comes from the Latin for “loosen” or “release”, and in chemistry it refers to the action of separating into components. In politics, resolution usually means finding a solution, conclusion or settlement.

In photography, resolution refers to the amount of visible detail in an image. I think I will use this meaning as I form my goals for 2010. There’s always room for better detail. My life has a few areas which I could improve on in big ways and some which would benefit from some close-up attention and fine tuning.

I will begin my examination with a long view and move in with a magnifying glass to assess the resolution of the image of my life. Because sometimes life is in the details.

Image made using the LensBaby Composer.

Western-style Thinking

For lunch today I had left-over Korma curried chicken and vegetables over almond cous cous. I was listening to Loreena McKennitt's "The Gates of Istanbul" as I ate and was enjoying the eastern influences all around me. For dessert, I opened two Dove dark chocolates and read the messages inside. Sometimes I find them amusing, but most of the time they are vapid. On this occasion, I was annoyed.

The first one read, "Practice patience as a means to an end." What does that mean? Be patient so you can get what you want? Obtuse. The next one read, "Do a little more each day than you think you possibly can." To which I responded, "Why should I?" Why not enjoy the day without making it some kind of personal competition? It was such a rude western interruption to my oriental reverie.

I remember well the summer Q and I lived in Cairo. The lead that settled in our lungs, the impossibly gorgeous 5 foot tall gladiolas for sale by the train station, the shy smile of the boy who helped his father at the fruit market. It was my first time living in such a place so everything made an impression. I remember walking by a little garden in the middle of a suburban traffic circle and watching a man slowly water the plants with a hose. I thought, "I like the way he cares for this little out-of-the-way spot, but it could be so much nicer! Why doesn't he take it up a notch? Plant some flowers...." And the arabic phrase ma'alesh came to mind. It's a phrase we don't have an exact translation for because it's not really in our lexicon or culture. It can be translated in the following ways: relax, don't worry about it, nothing can be done, these things happen, I'm sorry, oh well. I'd love to see it written as a Dove Promises message. "You didn't lose 3 pounds this week? Ma'alesh. Have another chocolate."

While I know there is a positive purpose to our cultural drive to make things better all the time, I also appreciate the occasional reminder that life is not entirely about progress (or about ourselves, but that's another post). Sometimes it is about standing still and feeling good. James Taylor said it best: "The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time." Savor the moment.

A Flash in the Pan

Just in case you are one of the few people who reads my blog but not my younger sister's blogs, I'd like to let you know that I've posted two "guest posts" at the following delicious location: check out The Virtual Goody Plate.

My Life In a Box

It began with the seemingly innocent reorganization of two bookshelves. One became the gathering place for books I'd like to read in the coming year. The other held the books I probably won't use anytime soon. 

Next, it was the sorting of the china cabinet and the careful wrapping of vases and a tea set in lesser-used tablecloths which then got packed in a box. Soon, though, I was asking for a budget with which to buy numerous plastic storage bins. Where will it end? 

Yesterday I used up all the boys' nap time going through my sewing room, culling fabric I will never use, etc., and last night I spent several hours sorting, wrapping and packing in the kitchen. The result was a slightly less cluttered space, four bins to take downstairs and a few more things to tag for the yard sale. 

Yes, pre-packing has begun in earnest. In a few weeks we should be down to just those things we will take with us plus the furniture we will be leaving in the "partly furnished rental". The thought of leaving my home is not one I let myself entertain very often, but I have to face the truth, I suppose. The day of reckoning is nearly here.

Although my dear husband would like to have every detail in place before spreading the news, I am here to leak the information in true D.C. style. He will be a Franklin Fellow at the State Department's Policy Planning office beginning at the end of June. The fellowship can last 9-12 months, so we are planning to move ourselves back here next spring or summer. The plus side of this move to NoVa is that we will be close to my parents and younger sister's family, not to mention my aunts, uncle, and cousins. It will be a rare opportunity for us all to live near extended family and I look forward to it. Fairfax, such as it is,  is my hometown. It has changed a lot in the past 18 years, but then so have I. 

My life now fills a few more boxes than it did back then. 

It's Pretty Much My Favorite Operating System

[Setting: A cozy living room.]

[We pan down to see the 30 Marens crowded around a computer screen.]

Announcer: 30 Marens Agree...

30 Marens: [in unison] Keep your software up to date!

[The Marens all nod in agreement]

Maren Markley: It's the little things that keep life running smoothly.

Maren Reynolds: Procrastination is like shooting yourself in the foot, my dear.

Maren Majauskas: Sometimes, change is good.

[The Marens continue to nod]

Announcer: 30 Marens Agree. Update your software regularly.




The background story, as if you care:

Recently, my dear husband asked me to make a nice dvd out of an old recording to give to some friends. It's the memorial service for a senior member of their family, recorded on mini-dvd a year ago. I agreed to take the project on, thinking it would be good to finally figure out how to use iMovie and iDVD on my Mac. No sweat.

Step 1: Put the disk in the camcorder, plug it into the computer via USB. Ok. Wait, not ok. It plays the disk. Hmmmm. No, I want it to transfer the files.

Step 2: Smack palm to forehead. I finalized the disk (of course) so that we could watch it on our DVD player. Well, it's finalized now and isn't a "file" anymore. How am I supposed to make a copy?

Ok, no more steps. Now it's just a mess. I went to facebook and sent a message to one of my former bosses under whom I had worked in California. He is a total guru, and he checked his sources. "Handbrake", he said. "That's what you need to download. It will let you break into the finalized dvd and make files again." Mark, you're awesome!

I downloaded Handbrake, and sent it to work on one half of the disk. It was a long wait, but finally I had a file! It was an mpg4 file. Didn't mean much to me, but I was glad to have that over with! Ok, open iMovie, import file. Freeze. Try again. Freeze. Eh?? What was I missing? I was missing an updated version of iMovie- you know, the kind that could import an mpg4 file.

Oh, well, of course. Easy enough, I'll just... um... huh. That only works with the latest Mac operating system, Leopard. (OS joke- snicker.) Well, I had to upgrade someday, didn't I? This is where I needed to stop and explain the process to DH and get clearance to spend actual funds. Ok, Mac Box Set on it's way! Celebrations!

After installations and tutorials galore, I dropped my little files into the software and proceeded to tinker. The whole show was rather long (an hour and 23 minutes, actually), but it was working! Transitions- bam! Titles- zing! Chapters- zap! Whew. That only took days to do in all my spare time. Now, to get it into iDVD, I just go up to the "share" menu and choose iDVD.... What?! It's going to take 29 hours to prepare the file?! No way. Surely it's one of those estimations that will diminish significantly here in just a minute... uh... hmm. Nope. Really, it's going to take 29 hours. Wow- that was a REALLY long time to wait!

All righty, here we are in iDVD all ready to go! I've got my nice "Bronze Wedding" theme, my clip looping with the beautiful music playing on the menu page, my scene selections, button choices, highlight colors all picked out, it's been tested and we're ready to burn. Burn, baby,burn. Two hours of burning. Luckily, all subsequent discs took about 20 minutes each. Yahoo! The DVD is done! A few errors, but I'm not redoing it at this point.

So, it needs a cover. Along the road to upgraded status, there were a few fatalities. Most were not a big deal. But Photoshop refusing to open is not ok and must be dealt with!! Photoshop is the one software I use most and I cannot live without it. What to do? I once had a legitimate version (it came on a lot of diskettes), but my latest one was acquired because my former boss (not the same former boss) said "I want you to know this program well, so take it home and install it on your computer." Thus I have Photoshop 7. Yup- it's 8 years old. And working fine, I might add- or was.

Mark to the rescue again. He and my former co-worker, Robyn, suggested Adobe's free trial version of Photoshop Elements. I'm on day 4 of my 30 days, and it's becoming clear that Elements is missing some rather important tools. It's a great little thing for most users and I do recommend it, but I like my channel mixer and curves and duotones and am not willing to go without them. I have given fair warning to DH that CS4 will need to be purchased soon. Thank goodness for the Adobe Education Store where educators get a real break!

Yes, it's a long story with familiar twists and turns. We've all faced such technical obstacle courses and made it through somehow. Sunday, I will hand over the 6 DVDs as an offering of friendship, never letting on that they were the instigators of so much... learning.

How About Canada?

This was one of the advertisements on my facebook.com page today.

Seriously?

I'm very curious and very amused.

If You Could Hie To Anywhere In The Twinkling Of An Eye...

... where would you go?

Lately, I have been dreaming of the years we spent in Palo Alto, California. I see the colors of the twilight sky. I feel the cool air that drifts from the ocean over the mountains each evening. I smell the Eucalyptus trees and jasmine, the freshly mown grass at Christmas time. I walk down University Avenue, make a right on Waverly, enter my favorite haunt, sit in a rickety old chair, read the Palo Alto Weekly, drink hot chocolate and eat a chocolate pecan bar.

That haunt, The Prolific Oven, is a very special place and one that I miss often. One of the only bakeries I have ever seen open till 10 or 11 pm, it drew in Stanford students, townsfolk, the cool, the unhip, it didn't matter. We were all one there. It's not as fancy or gourmet as Gayle's, nor does it have its own cookbook, but it makes good goodies and I loved it there. When I worked nearby, we would celebrate birthdays with one of their cakes. They even made a zucchini cake back then, which I requested one year and my boss refused to eat. (It was great, by the way. Very moist.)

I was lying awake thinking about these things, and decided that one of the most needed inventions is an instant transporter. It would look a lot like a shower stall (maybe the controls could be fitted into an existing unit?) and you get in with your packed carry-on if needed, turn the dial to your location of choice, and- zappo!- there you are. You could even zap the whole family.

Imagine: California for the afternoon, back by bedtime. You've got four free hours on Friday? Great- you're off to your favorite Paris museum. Long weekend? New Zealand is calling you. Need to relax? Dial up the Seychelles. Imagine being able to go to every important family event.

This is surely not as grand as the vision W. W. Phelps had about traveling through space for spiritual enlightenment, but maybe someday I'll live to see this idea of an invention realized. For now, I get to suffer through agonizing air travel... or dream.

Where do you dream of being?

Predicting Earthquakes

There's a tremor in my life. I know where the fault lies, and I can see the friction caused by things moving. Things have been still for the last few years, but the time is ripe for another episode of subduction....

When we moved to Vermont, it was the latest in a long string of moves- 16 in 9 years, with no more than 12 months at any one address. It was... well, it wasn't very fun. We were very glad to be settled and I had a promise that we wouldn't move again for at least five years, which seemed like an eternity. That was 4½ years ago.

Q is on leave from the college next year: a sabbatical for research, writing, producing, and preparing before tenure review two years later. We will likely be gone for that year- probably not overseas, but far enough to feel like far away.

So now, behind everything I do, everywhere I go, and everything I look at in my house, there is an unsettling murmur which gets a little louder each day. It began in the fall, when I knew I wouldn't see these trees again next year. Of course, there were days in the winter when I was a little glad I wouldn't see the temperature drop so low for a while. But much of it is bitter, not sweet. I see my children playing in the backyard and I know that the boys will not really remember this. When we return it will all be like new to them. And tearing the girls away from their friends and activities- even temporarily- will be painful. At least it is temporary... that's what makes it tolerable to move away from our home.

The upheaval is coming. I can see the signs and feel the pressure mounting, slowly. Sometimes the movement has created mountains in my life, sometimes volcanoes, sometimes altogether new territory, sometimes parts disappeared underground: it creates and it destroys. This time I predict it will be a good old-fashioned earthquake, and not a small one.

More to follow at a later date....



P.S. I'm not ready to discuss it in public (i.e. at church) yet.

The Doubtful Guest

We bought this small 1957 gem by Edward Gorey for our oldest daughter when she was little, though she is only now old enough to fully appreciate it. We laughed at its oddity and randomness. We were charmed by the title character, though grateful he didn't live at our house.

And yet, he does. As I revisit it now, I see that the story is something of an allegory of raising a child. Not a complete match, for the guest never speaks, but similar enough to bring some deeper meaning to the strange tale. It's like a dispassionate observer's condensed account of the first 17 years.

Tearing out whole chapters from books? I've seen that. Seemingly deaf to whatever I say? Hmmm. I know several little "guests" in my house who would gladly eat all of the syrup and toast, though they usually stop short of the plate. Every page has a thing or two that I, my siblings, or my children have been known to do. Vanish for hours? I remember that time we found my older sister asleep under her bed... after much searching. I was the one who peeled my shoes. Now, where has my bedside alarm clock gone...?

If you have this Gorey classic, give it another read-through, preferably aloud to your spouse (pausing to show the pictures, of course). If you don't, check it out at the library or bookstore for an amusing, slightly bemusing story.

How To Wash Your Turkish Rug In Three Easy Steps

Well, okay, they get progressively easier as you go along....

Prep: Obtain a Turkish rug. If you already have one, go to step one. If you don't, get a ticket to Ankara and bring an empty suitcase (or a suitcase full of stuff you don't mind leaving in Turkey). Go see Hilme in the western part of town. Sorry I can't dig up his exact address, but he's the most honest rug salesman I've ever met. Great selection, all "weh-ge-ta-ble" dyes. It was he who taught me how to clean a good wool rug in the first place. If you can't get to Turkey, borrow someone's beautiful but dirty rug.

Step 1: Wait for a day in late winter when there's semi-fresh snow on the ground but it's sunny and the air temperature is above freezing. Like last Thursday's weather in Middlebury. Perfect.

Step 2: Shake the rug outside and lay it in the snow. Wearing snow pants and gloves, scrub it all over with snow and then with a rag.

Step 3: Shake it out again and hang it outside to dry for a few hours.

See, it looks much nicer. Wasn't that fun?

No, It Wasn't All in Your Head

You were right when you suspected that 2008 was an unusual year in the world of weather. Seems like each year has been sort of crazy in its own way, lately. Here is a selection of "Global Significant Events" for 2008, courtesy of the US Department of Commerce's National Climatic Data Center. Enjoy.




Click to enlarge, or visit the Map and Events link.

Smile For The Photographer, Please

I am so glad things like this are still being produced! Whew! Enjoy 16 minutes of true warm fuzzies.





Thank you to my friend Dorothy who posted it first. It made my day!

Dorothy Hamil Was My Hero

In January it's so nice
While slipping on the sliding ice
To sip hot chicken soup with rice
Sipping once, sipping twice
Sipping chicken soup with rice

Now that I have that old Carole King/Maurice Sendak favorite in your head, let me tell you what I did today. I started ice skating lessons! I didn't bring my chicken soup, but I did bring my stiff new ice skates (ouch!) and my courage.

A month ago, while perusing the list of available Middlebury College Winter Workshops, Q suggested I pick a 4-week class to try this year. Since I have little interest in Advanced Wine Education and Appreciation or Fly Casting or Kathak dancing, I chose something I've always wanted to do better: skating. I can keep myself up on the ice without holding on to the boards, but I've never had any formal instruction. As my in-law family members can attest, I could use it.

I missed the first two lessons last week due to travel, so I was not nearly as confident today as the other beginners. They were already doing swizzles and backward wiggles and pumps and stuff. They even knew how to stop- well, most of them did. But all 7 of us were clearly out of our comfort zones, wishing we didn't wobble so much and wondering when we were going to biff it. Luckily, none of us did.

I enjoyed it immensely despite the uncomfortable skates and slippery surface. It was fun to try something new that I'm most definitely NOT good at and see an improvement in an hour of guidance and practice. And the fun doesn't end there; tomorrow I get to see which muscles I only use on the ice!

16 Things My Brother Probably Already Knows

My brother tagged me in a post and this is my response. Sorry, Dave, you know most of these and the rest aren't going to be any big shockers. Buyurun.

1. I dislike anything flavored like passion fruit. I’ve never tasted the real fruit.

2. I never drive without my seatbelt.

3. When I was a kid, I wanted my future husband to have an easy, straighforward last name (that everyone can spell) like Applegate. If you know my maiden name, you understand.

4. I got my first pair of bifocals when I was 18.

5. I would really like to see the Northern Lights.

6. When I was little, my doctor told me that my projected growth chart estimated I would be 5 feet 8 inches tall. I still feel a little bit cheated that I’m only 5 feet 5 and a half inches.

7. I organize my shirts by color: black, grey, white, yellow, green, blue, purple, red, brown.

8. My favorite fruits are apples. Best three: freshly picked ripe Ginger Gold, Buckeye Gala, and a good, crisp Braeburn.

9. When I was in elementary school, I was in a music group that made a record. I played the xylophone.

10. I can count to ten in six languages: English, Spanish, German, Norwegian, Arabic, and Turkish.

11. I collect little boxes that I keep on my dresser.

12. I have synesthesia. (Link fixed) So does my mother and at least one of my daughters. Letters, words and numbers have distinct colors.

13. I don't have many pet peeves, but one is when we don't sing ALL the printed verses to the hymns at church- i.e. stopping after verse 3 just because verses 4 and 5 didn't fit between the lines of music!

14. Once I stayed up all night to watch the midnight sun in Norway. I read a book outside at 11pm.

15. I’m terrible at spelling and rely heavily on my Mac’s dictionary widget.

16. I have never had the chicken pox, just the vaccine.


Ok, I tag Michelle L, and Jennifer D and Jen A, oh, and Dorothy, Lynette and Christine, too! Write down 16 things you think most people don't know about you and post them either on your blog or on facebook. Go ahead, it's fun!

Out with the Old Me

Okay, let's talk about weight loss for a minute.

It officially began on July 31st, when I joined Weight Watchers, although I guess it really began the day Peter was born. I blogged about it in September, and now I've come to give you the end-of-year report so I can make some clear goals for next year.

If I count from peak pregnancy weight, it's impressive: 60 pounds. It's true and accurate, but not really fair somehow. Counting from day one of WW is not bad either and is more reflective of real work: 32 pounds. I stick with the online Weight Watchers program because I love to see my progress chart. It's very motivating for me.

Now, December was not a big loss month. Each pound shed was a struggle, and there was even a week when a pound was gained instead of lost- a first. But I am resolved to continue- no matter the pace- because I have a solid goal in mind. Plus, I have the added secret weight-loss advantage of nursing a baby and that will only last until spring so I have to make the most of it. I am glad to have the fudge season behind me and I know that January will be a lot easier to control than December was. I find myself craving celery every January anyway, so I have some hope.

The treadmill habit has slowed down a bit since we discovered it was causing damage to part of the house (long story), so I won't be able to get back into that until we shore up a beam in the basement and maybe change to location of the machine. Disappointing, but not deterring. I am now the proud owner of a double stroller, so maybe I can get out with the boys for more regular walks when the weather thaws a bit. In the meantime, I will be dancing in the kitchen, thanks to my new iHome.

I have the hardest part left to do, which is ten more pounds. That will take me to my weight goal on paper. However, at this point in my life weight loss doesn't exactly translate into the shape I'd like to see, so there will be long-term toning goals, too.
It's all a long-term thing, really, because one of the main motivating factors at the beginning was to get myself down to a healthy life-long (and long life) weight that I can stay at until I die of old age... many decades from now.

What are your big goals for the last year of the first decade of the 21st century?

Hee Hee

From the Dec 4th edition of The Middlebury Campus, Middlebury's student newspaper.





(Click on the pictures to see them enlarged.)

I've Been Shot!

Yesterday, I was playing outside with the boys and I ran my hands over a yellow plastic rope. This was old rope, and I got several nasty splinters which were hard to see and quite painful. One of them made my thumb stiffen up and hurt all over. "Oh no, " I thought, "it's tetanus for sure!"

The nurse at my doctor's office was not as worried as I was. She said that if it was, I had 72 hours to get the shot. I opted for the next available appointment which was this morning. Driving up to Bristol, I was very glad to see gasoline at $1.89. Who would have guessed that it would ever be so low again?

My boys were great at the doctor's office. It's an Internal Medicine practice, so they don't see a whole lot of kids there and all the grandmas had to see if they could make the baby smile (which they did). I was ushered right in and the DTP booster (that's Diphtheria, Tetanus and Pertussis) took all of 2 seconds (whew!) and I wished I had brought myself a lollipop for being so brave. They asked me to stay there for a few minutes to make sure I wasn't going to have an adverse reaction, which was fine because the 2 year old had found several books in the waiting room he wanted me to read.

I love this place. I call the doctor one day, go in the next morning, get it done, then have to stay and read the stuff we didn't have time to read before the appointment because there was no wait- and this is not an isolated experience. I'm feeling grateful for good medical care.

Big, Scary Dreams

Do you know that feeling, the one that makes you tingle because you're imagining something you really want to become and you're afraid it's never going to happen? You can see the grandeur but are terrified of the possibility of failure. You get excited and ashamed simultaneously upon discovering someone else has already become exactly what you want to be and they're really good at it.

Change is scary because it means risk, and remaining static seems to incur no risk. It's comfortable, like staying in bed on a cold Saturday morning. I can think of a million excuses and some of them are valid... but I want to change. I can see what I want to be. However, I am not sure how to get there safely. I've been inspired by a few shining examples- can I do that, too?

I don't really expect you to get this one, because I'm being purposefully opaque. But maybe you've dreamt big. Any advice on how to get past the fear?