Balling in Bethel...

Financial crisis? What financial crisis?

We've weathered the Balling in Bangalore to Partying with the Parents transition just fine so we're not at all worried about our next big move...into to our very own house. That's right, we bought a house. We'll have our own closets, a bed our feet don't hang off and an extra room for Chandan.

Chez Avery is a white colonial with black shutters and a fabulous yard. Sure Bethel is a little out of the way but, we have a pool. Pool party at our house...happy St. Patty's Day! We'll get the heater going. So what if we'll have nowhere to sit. We'll have gawdy chandeliers to look at and maybe even a fridge to stock so cold beverages. When you get bored with all that, Sir may be able to take you for a ride through the grounds on his John Deere lawnmower (if we are able to convince the old owners that they really don't need to be taking it with them to Texas). He can show you the site of our future putting green and vegetable garden










Bethel has a woodsy charm. From what we've seen, they have a quaint center of town and just alot of houses. I'm sure after a few months, I'll be able to tell you all about the locals at the family run grocery store (no Stop & Shop in our town) and the gossip down at the local coffee shop (so long Starbucks). The nearest big city is Danbury with such crowd pleasers as a big mall, a Home Depot and maybe, if we're lucky, a TGIFridays. We are living the American dream.

Although we may not have enough furniture, at least we can count on our walls to be appropriately decorated, care of our roommates. There are about 3 boxes (that I know of)with my name on containing various invaluables from the Christmas Tree Shoppe. (Nevermind the tagged furniture from various college apartments just waiting in the garage for a home.) Not that any of our roommate's precious belongings will match the blood red carpeting and yellow walls that currently define the "ruby room." Not to be confused with the sapphire room with the classy cubic zarconia and blue gemmed chandelier above the formal dining room table or the marble room, with the enormous marble coffee table and matching marble column-standing lamps. Still, like the savvy house hunters we've become, we managed to look behind the cosmetics and find the potential.





The old owners are planning to be out by Nov. 14 so we're hoping it won't be too much if we ask to sleep over on the 13th.

After months of searching, in a shaky market, we really feel like we struck gold and we can't wait to have all four of you over anytime after November 15. BYOC.

A classy, sassy, salon visit.

It makes me feel good when I get to talk about India like it wasn't that long ago when we were there.

I got my hair cut this week. I looked up hair salons in Milford, CT and liked the webpage of this one salon and called to make the appointment. The woman on the other end of the phone was sticky, sweet nice and sounded all of 22 years old. I called about 2 weeks ago so I took it as a good sign that they couldn't fit me in until this week. Isn't this like eating in a crowded restaurant? It must be good?

I walked into the small salon in the back of some abandoned office building with a "for lease" sign in front. The woman at the reception desk had the same sticky sweet demeanor but was clearly older than 22. She looked to be in her mid-fifties with too blond hair and too much make-up. She smiled a little too long before saying, "you must be Kathleen." She told me I could put my smock on in the bathroom and take a seat in the back room. The place smelled like fresh paint and was tastefully decorated in blues and whites. After I sat down, the receptionist, wearing athletic pants that hugged her thighs but had a flare leg, asked me, "welcome to our salon, Kathleen. We want you to feel as comfortable as possible. Is there something I can get you to drink?" When she came back with my water she asked, "Kathleen, can I get you some reading material while you wait for Lisa?" She came back with some magazines and told me Lisa would be in shortly. Behind me was another chair with a girl wearing an apron reading a magazine. She had short spiky reddish, brown hair and while it looked like she worked there, it didn't look like she works too hard.

Lisa came in a few minutes later. She was very loud and her four inch platform wedges made her appear very tall. "You must have heard about us from Tracey, am I right?" I was thinking about any Tracey's I know while she continued, "Tracey Siddell?" I told her I didn't know Tracey and it must just be some strange coincidence. Lisa cackled. "I just assumed you knew her! How funny. She's coming in around 6:30. That is so funny." It wasn't really that funny but I played along. "So how did you hear about us?" I told her I had just recently moved back to the area and found their website. At this point, the girl behind us is up and tells Lisa all that time she spent on the website is paying off because I am like, the tenth customer that has said this. Lisa says, "I hope so. That damn project was so freakin' tough." She then looks at the girl, "you really have to wear all black?" This hits a nerve with the girl who begins to rant, "yes! Can you believe it?! I mean, I can't like, wear ANY white. Like, nothing, not even a white bra strap. This girl I work with had like, white in her belt and they sent her home. It's crazy! They are like Nazi's." I think about chiming in, though the Nazi's liked the white but I refrain. She and Lisa continue to talk about this second job while the girl fiddles with a leopard print belt. I'm dying to know where she works. "Well, you better get going. Let me know how it goes with that other thing," Lisa says. The girl says they have ALOT to talk about. As the girl leaves Lisa says to me, "she's such a sweetheart."

Finally, we get to my hair. Lisa tells me that since she's not ready to start giving Fall and Winter cuts she's going to give me a good "summer clean up." Fine. "So where were you living before?" I tell her that we actually moved back from India. "INDIA! Wow. What were you doing there? I'm so fascinated by people who travel. I can't wait to hear about it. I'll be right back." She disappears to the front room and leaves me for another couple of minutes. I start telling her a little about India and that it was dirty and crowded but we loved it. As I begin to tell her more, I am surprised that it feels like we just returned. I tell her that the people were really warm and friendly. "Yeah, people say that about them." I tell her we were surprised to find so many more Indian restaurants here and a big Indian grocery store in town. She says, "yeah. There is a HUGE population of Indian people and tell you the truth, I find them to be very rude. There are some that live in those shabby apartments there and near my house. I don't know what it is, if it's all the 7-11's or what?" I look up to see if she is cracking a smile thinking she must be trying to make a joke but in a serious tone she continues, "but I mean, I guess they can still make more here in a convenience store then they can there, huh?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Did you find them to be really backwards?" I try to tell her about how different their culture is but that I wouldn't say it's backwards. "Well, at least you are home now." I guess she didn't hear me when I said we didn't want to leave. She then launches into some story about how she had an American customer once who was married to an Indian and they came to the salon together. The Indian husband did all the talking while the American wife didn't say anything and was totally submissive to her husband. "You know what I did," she has moved in front of me so I can see her, "I ignored him. I asked the woman what she wanted and I told him," she is pointing her shears at me as if I am the Indian man, "I said, you listen to me. I am the owner of this salon and I deal only with my customers. I give them the cut they want so I will do what your wife asks me to do." She is looking at me and I think she is waiting for some reaction from me. "They are backwards. You can't treat your wife that way." She then began talking about how they smell but are pretty. "You walk behind them, and it just...stinks. But really, they can be very pretty. It's too bad really." I guess pretty shouldn't stink.

As it turns out, the farthest she has traveled has been to New York City. She has lived in Milford for almost 30 years but grew up in Stratford. She really loves Milford and can't understand why you would want to live anywhere else. She has been a business owner for about 20 years and is really involved with "the Chamber" (of commerce) and really has so many connections here. Why, last night at the Chamber meeting, she was talking to Tim who was asking how the salon was coming. I heard all about how she just moved to this new location from down the street. She was having trouble with her old landlord but because she is so active with the Chamber, she was able to find another space pretty easily. I mean, she had to completely gut the place but she really likes how it turned out. Her boyfriend helped with most of the work which was good because she didn't have to pay for the labor but bad because she had to work around his schedule. The receptionist came back at one point to say that Karen was on the phone and she wanted to stop by. Lisa told her she should stop by her house later because she has her kids tonight but apparently Karen was in the neighborhood. A few minutes later Karen comes in and she and Lisa are talking about how Lisa is going to be at the salon until at least 9 tonight and then she has to get home because she has her kids tonight. I know I go to sleep early but isn't it kind of late to be spending quality time with your kids at 9:30 at night? But I'm even more curious to know if this is why she doesn't have custody of them. But I couldn't tell how old Lisa is so maybe her kids are older. Karen wanted to have a "girls night" on Friday but Lisa said she had to meet with her lawyer so she wasn't sure. Karen said, "you're going to meet with your lawyer on a Friday night?" Lisa said, "well, we just have to work out some of this lease stuff so we're going to discuss it over a couple glasses of wine. So you should just stop by the Bistro."

She told me when I come back we should do a "chunky, winter bang." Right. When I come back, I'm bringing a video camera and selling the footage as the next big reality show. A classy, sassy, Milford salon.

I didn't become a teacher to work five day weeks.

First five day week. I survived though it was tough: first there were class pictures, then September 11 and then getting to know my students better.

Whoever started Lifetouch Studios was a genius. Every year, schools around the nation send home order forms to hundreds of parents who surely feel obligated to write a check and send little Jane to school in her Sunday best for her yearly school picture. Of course, through the years they have improved the basic models with fancy "starburst" backgrounds instead of the plain blue/gray. And this year, at least at JBHS, students also had the option of four different "poses."

The idea was that freshmen would have their pictures taken first, followed by sophomores. They scheduled them alphabetically and each group was given a twenty minute window before the next group was supposed to head down. Fine idea but only one photographer showed. "It's crazy down there. There is only one lady down there and she's just screaming at us," says one student. "Nobody knows what's going on and they are just sending people away," so I came back but some people are just skipping their classes," says Joe, one of my special needs students, who is part of the Rules Police. "Everybody wants pose 3 so there is just this huge line." Pose three apparently was the standard, slight head tilt pose. Ran like a well oiled machine. So for two days, not much was accomplished with my freshmen. The Administration was so balled up they decided to reschedule the sophomores.

On September 11, students and faculty were encouraged to wear red, white and blue, there was a memorial service and a moment of silence at 8:46. Also a fine idea. I was in class with my freshmen. There are six or seven special needs kids in the class so I have a paraprofessional with me, Mrs. O. This also happens to be on the first of the two picture days so keep in mind kids are coming in and out of class, confused about pictures as I am trying to keep together some semblance of a lesson - which has now turned into, "whoever is here, complete this map. Leave when you have to leave for your picture." A few minutes later, the principal comes over the PA system as says the appropriate 9/11 memorial words followed by a moment of silence. The kids are appropriately silence but you can tell, just sort of waiting for the moment to pass so they can pick up there pencils and start writing again. Next thing I know, I hear sniffles behind me. It's Mrs. O, looking like she is either on the verge of pulling herself together or just openly weeping. At this point, Lizzy, who is very thoughtful, deliberate and somewhat long-winded, (she's "special") launches into a soliloquy about how she remembers sitting in her second grade class watching TV as the planes "smashed so violently" against the buildings. Now Mrs. O is weeping and apologizing and I'm thinking she is going to excuse herself but she does not. The last ten minutes of class was a complete wash as Mrs. O struggled to explain the magnitude of the event and how she's just emotional by nature and that she didn't know how appropriate it was for second graders to watch.

But I am happy to have Mrs. O in class. She is a help. She's been a paraprofessional for years and seems to have some good suggestions for when you have a conversation like this with a student. As the kids are leaving I say to Jacquie, who is still getting her books together (and is special), "Jacquie, you seemed like you made alot of important of important points with Mrs. O when we were in groups. You should share them with the class."
"But then I would have to raise my hand," she says without looking at me.
"Well, yes. When you raise your hand, I'll know to call on you."
"But if I raise my hand, everyone will stare. All the kids turn around and look at me like I'm stupid."
"They're not looking at you like you're stupid. They want to hear what you have to say. When someone else raises their hand, you look at them and I'm sure you aren't thinking they are stupid."
"Yes I am." She still hasn't made eye contact with me.
"You think when someone raises there hand to make a comment or ask a question, they are stupid?"
"Yes. Stupid and disruptive. Students shouldn't raise there hands."
I tried to explain the value of participation and questions but I'm sure she didn't buy it. It's going to be a fun year.

Grandma Palin

Enough already with Sarah Palin. And with Bristol Palin. And with Bristol Palin's baby-daddy. I guess McCain can consider his choice a success if his goal was to get people talking. Perhaps he did listen to Paris Hilton and has come to believe that bad publicity is better than no publicity. Or perhaps he just wanted to solidify his reputation as McMaverick. It's not the fact that her 17 year old daughter is pregnant that makes me think she is somewhat unfit to be the President's #2, it's more that she has five children, has been governor for less than two years and is seemingly ultraconservative. Half of what she said in her convention speech it turns out is far from true. She did try to sell the governor's jet on eBay but so what? She didn't really have to say, "thanks but no thanks" to the bridge to nowhere because the bill had already gone nowhere in Congress. Sure there are some questions about the ethics behind the possible role she played in getting her ex-brother-in-law fired from his state trooper job but even that doesn't really concern me. (I think since 24 hour news coverage has become the norm, no one in politics seems to be free from questionable ethics at one point or another. On the Nixon tapes-Clinton/Lewinski Political Ethics scale, Palin trying to get her sister's ex-husband fired seems to rate safely in the "not worthy of impeachment" zone.)

I heard some women on the radio the other day say, "if she can't manage her own family, how can we expect her to manage the country." While I do question her readiness for the Vice Presidency, I do not think this is fair. I don't think you can say Sarah Palin or her parenting skills are the cause of her daughter's pregnancy. She may have had countless "talks" with young Bristol but at the end of the night, Bristol makes her own decisions. (Kind of like George H.W. Bush advising young George W...at the end of eight years, he's made his own decisions. Dubya's mind can be compared to that of a 17 year old, no?) What is more concerning (or maybe just admirable) is this idea that a grandmother-to-be with a toddler of her own trying to say she can work two non-stop jobs. I can barely work a full time teaching job and find enough free time to go to the grocery store, cook dinner and get to the dry cleaners and I don't have any children. If, by some tragic twist of destiny, she did finish the job Hilary started and crashed through cracked glass ceiling, landing the Palin's in Washington, I know I will have to lay off the criticisms (at least for the first few days) and applaud her "women can have it all" accomplishment.

But maybe my concerns are unfounded. After all, Connecticut's own Republican female governor, Jodi Rell said earlier in the week that as governor, Palin has more "administrative" experience than any of the other candidates. She said that Senators essentially share the responsibilities of a state between the two of them but governors are solely responsible for the running of their states. Rudy Giuliani has echoed these sentiments basically saying that serving as mayor of Wasilla, Alaska (pop. 10,000) and New York City (pop. 8,000,000) is essentially the same thing. So maybe all of us nay-sayers and cynics are wrong. Maybe she is the most qualified and best possible candidate of all the Republicans. But continuing to talk about her daughters pregnancy will not convince me of this.

I guess we should all just be happy that campaign season and hurricane season happen to fall in the Fall because now we have options. We can now choose between Sarah, John, Joe and Barack and Gustav, Hanna, Ike and Josephine. And when all else fails, there's always Thursday night, Saturday, Sunday and Monday night football.

Go G-men.