"I'm going to make the needy eat."

Hopefully this is a sign that I'm at least doing something right as a parent. For about 20 minutes this morning, Abigail wanted to play the hot new game that is sweeping the nation: "Help the needy." To play this, Mommy had to hold a bucket, wear a Santa hat and ring a bell. Abigail then proceded to drop in "money" (toppings from her wooden pizza set) one at a time, often taking on personas of different children, and saying, "Merry Christmas!"

Deja vu

Well, I think I just resigned again. If you can call what I did in October resigning. Funny, though, since I did it on the phone from home and may not see either my direct boss or managing editor again, it doesn't feel like resigning, just stopping. Odd.

I have been working Saturday and Sunday nights for the past two months-ish, and I thought the understanding was that I wouldn't work Saturdays after the new year. Understandably, they want a fourth copy editor on Saturdays, and my offer to work two a month didn't fly. I knew it was a long shot, but I'm just not willing to give up any semblance of a family life. With Brad working a "normal human schedule", i.e. 8 to 5, Monday through Friday, that meant we didn't have a day in the week where we could do something as a family. That just wasn't going to fly. And as I've said before, I wanted to stop copy editing (second-read, layout) and working second shift anyway. I liked ciy editing (first-read, working with reporters), but it was also a path to night work for several years.

So I've quit. I think I've done it on good terms, and I'm fairly certain they still think highly of me and understand my motives. My M.E. said they'd be open to talking about freelance writing opportunities after they fill my copy desk position, and I know they use freelancers for this family life weekly insert they've started doing. Hopefully I can sell them some Hispanic stories as well.

I knew things were very sketchy and unofficial back in October, and I was afraid we were all thinking different things for my future, but ultimately this is for the best. At most I was going to stick with part-time for a few months, just to get the full experience with city editing. But freelance will probably lead me more in the direction I want to go ultimately, and I'm happy to be staying home with Abigail, being able to do more mom things that I've wanted to do. I never planned to work full time until she was in kindergarten anyway. But it still feels weird to quit. But at least we're finally to where that's an option.

Santa Claus is coming to town

Santa2005
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

Aww... isn't she cute? Isn't this a wonderful overpriced picture of her with a man we do not know? I remember the days of the off-color polaroids when I was a kid, but now it's all digital and you can buy a full school-picture style portrait package and it costs no less than $14 to get any kind of print or CD! Okay, sure, you can just have your kid meet Santa with no picture, but then he might be a tad surly, and no one wants that. So instead, we opted for the Web- and e-mail-friendly version, with the "promise" not to print it out at home :)

Thankfully, at 3, Abigail is not yet caught up in the uber-materialism of Christmas. Santa is bringing her presents, she knows, but she also doesn't have a mile-long list she's expecting. (The benefits of watching only PBS) What does she want? A penguin. And no, she hasn't seen "March of the Penguins." Don't quite know where she got that from, and heck if I can find a stuffed penguin anywhere but on the Net, but I'll take it.

And now, for good measure, a few family shots. (It's so helpful to know photojournalists and not have to depend on Sears ...) These are from Thanksgiving weekend.

abbey fountain
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

heather abbey fountain
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

Move over, Tiny Tim

We took Abigail to her first parade last night, the Rock Hill Holiday Parade. Let me tell you, for a small city, they put on a big parade. That thing took more than an hour to pass us by. There were the three high school bands as well as a rather sad Christian school band and loads of floats of varying quality put on by Parks and Rec, banks, realty companies and hospice. Now, nothing says Merry Christmas like a hospice float.

Abigail was incredibly excited about the whole thing and started off very enthusiastically wishing everything multiple Merry Christmases. It went from "Merry Cwistmas!!!" to "Merry Cwistmas!" to "Merry Cwistmas." to a snarly "Merry Cwist--mas." When the parade slowed down, as they always do, she even threw in a lovely "Get out of the way!" That elicited a little chat about being nice, and the "Merry Cwistmases" resumed a bit of their holiday spirit for a while, but just a while.

Being a small city, there were plenty of political types toodling down the road in small vehicles. The final county councilman to pass us by was rather late in the parade, closing in on what is normally bedtime, and the "Merry Cwistmas" had turned a bit fussy again, mixed with questions about the location of her blankie (at home, doh!). Well, when Mr. Councilman passed by, Brad tried to perk her up again by energetically telling her, "Say Merry Chrismas to the politician, Abigail!" So in all her Grinchiness, our darling let out "Merry Cwist--mas, politician!" in a rather "Go to hell" tone of voice. It was priceless.

But she did have a wonderful time. I think Santa was a letdown -- not a very impressive float -- but the marching bands were a big hit, especially the one band that got stuck in front of us for a few minutes and was actually playing most of the time. We picked a spot just before the turn on to Main Street, so most groups were saving their stuff for the big crowd, but not Northwestern High. They played for us lowly sidestreet folks, had a cool drum cadence and had the best music. Definitely win my vote for best in town. Please, no Rock Hill High hate mail.

This morning was the great tree excursion, which was much fun. We went out to a tree farm, even though we wound up getting a pre-cut Frasier fir, but we wanted the atmosphere. Free hot chocolate and marshmallows for just $1 to roast over the bonfire -- how great is that? Our little pyro in training loved the fire, calling it camping. She just sat on a stump holding a stick toward the fire, grinning.

Ah Christmas, what better way is there to keep a small child eternally entertained?

Out with an accoustic bang

After my disappointment at the October Jump, Little Children show, my hopes were astronomically high for last night's concert.

They were exceeded.

What a fabulous show, what a fabulous venue, what a fabulous band that I will miss incredibly.

Jump played an hour-and-a-half accoustic set at The Neighborhood Theater that just blew me away. This one was right up there with the Oct. 1998 show in Athens, maybe even better since what I especially love about Jump is their varied use of instruments and gorgeous melodies. The core five musicians were backed by a six-piece string group and an electric organ, and the music filled the theater (thankfully not just a club, an actual old movie theater). They played essentially every mellow song from "Vertigo" and "Between the Dim and the Dark." While I do love a high-energy Jump song, nothing beats Jay Clifford's voice soaring above guitar, bass and cello.

The opener, the As Is Group, didn't really match Jump's music, but they were okay. Sort of improv jazz, which I've never been able to get into. But the organist from that group is also in Rosebud with Jay, and they did a couple of their songs

About two-thirds through the show, Matt Bivins broke out his penny whistle and they brought their violinist friend Amanda forward for an Irish song about a man who loses his daughter that reduced me to tears. Then the focus went back to just Jay, and he played not even a full measure before I recognized the highlight of my night: "Cathedrals." I had been crushed in October when they didn't play this, and last night's version was beautiful, so beautiful I cried. Cried because the music is stunning, but also because of all my memories associated with this band and this song. I used the chorus as an epigram once in college, and it's just so perfect for much of my life: "In the cathedrals of New York and Rome/ there is a feeling that you should just go home/ and spend a lifetime finding out just where that is." The next song was an Appalachian tune, "Copper Kettle," that was a lot of fun, followed by a jig by Matt and Amanda, and then they played a song I'd never heard before, "The Way They Dance." Jay called it the official wedding song, and it really is just about the most perfect first dance song I've ever heard (though Dave Matthews "Crush" will always have a special place in my heart). The song, all about how you can see how in love a couple is by the way they dance, was simple and beautiful, made that much more charming by the couple that were obviously reliving their first dance in the aisle next to us. Probably the best straight 20 minutes of Jump I've seen.

The whole show was great. The band was well suited to the theater and were obviously enjoying themselves -- each other, the music, the audience. Their personalities really shined, even by how they were dressed: Jay, the moody romantic one wearing jeans, a loosely knotted tie and corduroy jacket; Jonathan, the happy, energetic bassist wearing a three-piece suit, bowtie and bowler; Matt, the overtly sexual one a bit toned down in shirt and tie but not in how he moved; Ward the serious cellist ignoring trying to be cool by just wearing a t-shirt; and Evan, the quiety, slightly odd drummer, well, looking like a quiet drummer that you kind of forget to notice.

It's been so much fun to watch this band develop and mature. I'm secretly glad they never got beyond regional because it kept their shows so intimate and the fans so connected. I'm seriously going to miss seeing them live. Here's hoping they miss it too and tour together again beyond Charleston.

C-L-E-M in cadence count!

Okay, so it wasn't pretty, but at least South Carolina will be Clemson orange for another year. And hey, the boys behaved themselves this time. So hooray! Go Tigers!

And did anyone else find the recording of the rooster crowing to be rather inane? I mean, ooooh, scary. It sounds like Grandpa walked into the coop with some corn and the chickens got excited. I'd never want to be alone in a room with a gamecock, but it's not the most intimidating mascot.

It is too bad I don't work every day anymore. One of my bosses is a die-hard Carolina fan, and it would have been fun to mock him Monday :)

La folie continue

While the French riots are calming somewhat, an article I read tonight said there were clashes with police today in Lyon in the Place Bellecour, right smack in the heart of the city, France's third-largest and where I studied for a summer. Wild.

lyon_bellecour
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

Okay, and I couldn't pass this one up

You Are French Food

Snobby yet ubiquitous. People act like they understand you more than they actually do.

What Kind of Food Are You?

It's been too quiet in quiz world

Your Hair Should Be Purple

Intense, thoughtful, and unconventional. You're always philosophizing and inspiring others with your insights.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

Autumn photos

Time for a few pictures of the munchkin.

This first one, to her arachnaphobic mother's delight, is Abigail and said mother as "scary spiders." They make the cutest stuff at her preschool. She was adorable running around with this on for a few minutes, then she decided it was much better to take it off and chase people with it, shaking it and saying, "Scary spider's got you!"

spider
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

Here's Abigail climbing "my grandfather's mountain." It's actually a trail leading from an overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway that offers a fabulous view of the actual Grandfather Mountain. Beacon Heights Trail is 1400 ft. long and ascends to 4,620 ft. I'm sure it only takes an able-bodied adult 15 minutes, but my 3-year-old only took 40! She really was a little mountain goat, jumping from rock to root to rock -- we didn't put her on this one, Grandma was just acting as a safety net.

mountain
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

And here are Brad and Abigail at the top. While beautiful, it was unfortunately an overcast afternoon. I'm sure it's stunning on a clear day. But nothing's sunnier than that little smile! Looks like mommy's got a hiking buddy!

beacon
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

La France en flamme

I am simply astounded by what is happening in France right now. I simply cannot reconcile this violence with that country. Granted, I was never in the ZUPs (zone urbane publique or something like that -- the projects), though when I did pass them on the train they were depressing as heck, but still. This is France.

When I was there in 1999, not long after Columbine, my students were dumbfounded by the violence in America. You could write that off as the naievete of small-town kids, but the riots have reached Lens, not 15 minutes by train from my town, Bethune. And that's just according to a map of the 20 or so most serious riots -- there were riots in 300 towns yesterday. And while Bethune wasn't a hotbed of immigrant unrest -- or of many immigrants period -- it was certainly an economically depressed area in its own right. I tend to think of that region as the West Virginia of France, lots of closed coal mines. There certainly could have been small skirmishes there. Hooded thugs and fires in the Grand'Place -- I can't even picture it.

Of course, I had heard of the racism in France. I only had one first-generation French student, but I had known a man of Algerian descent in 1997 (Dex may remember him, the guy that was dating that rather ditsy girl Jenny in Lyon), and he had talked about the difficulties he faced. And I had met a fellow teaching assistant who had been placed in the Lille suburb of Roubaix. That place was known to be dangerous, you just didn't voluntarily go to Roubaix. Students regularly threatened that teacher, and he'd even had chairs thrown at him. I think he was teaching middle school -- and we were just the conversational English teachers, with no real grading power.

(Time for a sidenote with a completely different tone: In Bethune, the Grand'Place is dominated by a medieval bell tower, Le Beffroi. It was one of the few things to survive a 1918 bombardment [the rest of the square was rebuilt]. And apparently, it just became a UNESCO world history site! Go little Bethune!)

Beffroi de Bethune
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

30 rears its ugly head

Tonight we took Abigail trick-or-treating, which was hugely exciting. We managed to convince her to ditch the ghost costume with its disconcerting lack of peripheral vision for her fairy princess outfit, and she looked great. (Pictures coming someday -- we really should get a digital camera) She excitedly shouted "Trick or treat!" at the homeowners and fellow candy-hunters alike and left each stoop with either a "Thank you!" or "Happy Halloween!" or "Let's get MORE candy!" We only hit about a dozen houses, after which she cheerfully returned to Nana and Pops' house to enjoy her blue sucker. But next year, man, it's going to be on. I have visions of her taking off down the street and dragging us for blocks ...

The title of this post, though, comes from my trip back to work. I inched back through the neighborhood, scanning the curbs for small flying objects known as children, and then got stuck behind some preteens. Two of them moved over to the middle the road, which would've allowed me to pass, but the other one just waltzed his way down the street, occasionally staggering like a hunchback. He'd fling his candy bag out and twirl around, fully aware of my presence, then take a few teasing steps toward the curb before flailing back out into the street. Stupid kid, I almost called his bluff on one and started to speed up to pass before slamming on the brakes. Well, they finally meandered far enough up a wider stretch of road that I could pass -- at which point I rolled down my window and screeched out in my cold-damaged voice like an old crone "Pay attention to the cars, you kids are going to get hurt!" And of course, the only response my well-intentioned bit of fuddy-duddiness received was cackles of glee that they had ticked off an old person.

Yep, just two more years to 30.

"I'm not dead yet!"

Now to make sure John Cleese doesn't come out and thump them over the head with his club ...

Jump lives! Well, they're at least doing a few more shows this fall, including an accoustic show in Charlotte. This makes me very happy! I didn't want the era to end with a less-than-memorable show. And they're excellent accoustic.

One of the perks of going part time will be weeknight freedom. When I found that show, I cruised through the rest of the schedule at the Neighborhood Theatre and became very excited about many of the bands/performers -- and I realized that I could theoretically go to these concerts without completely rescheduling my life! Of course, The Avett Bros. are playing New Year's Eve, and I'm not sure I could realistically call our Christmas trip to Florida short just to come back in time for that. And the only thing on Thanksgiving weekend at this apparent bluegrass inspired hot-spot? Edwin McCain. Doubt that would excite my visiting sister or her Dunce very much.

the times, they are a-changin'

Life in the Williams household is an interesting thing. I get a promotion. We say, okay, we'll stay here and Brad will freelance for a few months. Brad starts to get freelance work. Then out of the blue he gets a job offer from a local engineering firm. The offer doubles our income and gives him much-needed direct experience. And I quit my job.

Craziness.

Well, I didn't really. I refuse to put Abigail in day care, so I am going part time. At least through the end of the year, I'll work the weekends and the occasional day during the week when people are on vacation. Then after the holidays, I think the plan is to keep me as city editor on Sundays (the promotion) and allow me to work on building a Hispanic beat from home, maybe writing a couple articles per month. It's very unexpected, but at least all I lose is design shifts, which I didn't want to keep anyway. I wanted to transition off the copy desk by the time Abigail hit kindergarten and try reporting, so it's an early reprieve from second shift.

And hooray, we'll have some spending money! We can buy our own clothes! We can visit my sister in London! I don't have to get an ulcer at the middle of each month, holding my breath until the next paycheck! We're even saying crazy things like a house!

And to the Elm Street family, this means we'll actually be able to attend gatherings!

Will wonders never cease?

No relation to my parenting abilities

Three-year-olds are interesting creatures. Abigail has recently taken to playing with dolls, especially making them dance. Most of her dolls are on the floppy side, so this makes for much fun as their limbs flap about. She's also picked up on the idea of dancing and then "freezing" when the music stops. So she'll hum away, making you act out a "friend" while she makes the "teacher" dance. Then she'll scream freeze, and all the dolls must immediately fall down. If they don't, the "teacher" proceeds to body slam each of them to the table, with total disregard to the state of her parents' knuckles. I did not teach her this, and it makes me wonder about exactly what goes on at the lovely little church preschool. You know, you can't trust those Epsicopalians, damn liberals ...

Watchtowers and waterfalls

There's just something about the sight of hazy blue peaks rolling into the distance that lifts my soul and carries it off to the horizon, where my cares fade into the mist.

The other half and I just returned from two days in southwestern North Carolina among foliage and old friends. I have only been to the mountains once since having Abigail and haven't been hiking since I was pregnant. I'm sure it sounds melodramatic, but I have felt empty without seeing the mountains. Some fundamental part of me responds to the mountains unlike anything else in nature, and I become giddy at the first glimpse. I feel God there more than anywhere else. Yesterday I gazed up at the yellow poplars reaching up to the sky, and it seemed their branches were raised in praise, thanking God for the incredible beauty scattered all around them.

Beaches are nice, beaches are relaxing, but beaches are boring after about three hours. In the mountains, I am constantly finding something new to marvel at, a new trail I want to follow. I saw a bright pink mushroom along one trail, and canary-hued maple leave resting on a wet, black log on another. Walking along one river, the rhododendron leaves and roots were so thick on the path that they swam in front of my eyes, a dancing collage of brown and orange and yellow. I feel inspired and cleansed and new.

I also feel reconnected to "family". We live such an isolated life, spending most of our time in our little nuclear family of three. Since I work second shift and weekends, we have very little oportunity to tap into other peoples' ideas and thoughts and laughter. And the past two days, I got to fully be myself with decade-old friends. Yes, we talked about college, but we also talked about our blood families, our Elm Street family, our individual concerns and hopes and opinions about the world. We drank fancy beer and ate falling apart pork roast and inhaled the quintessential October flavors of pumpkin spice coffee (well, Brad and I did). Perhaps most rewarding, I got to see that my friends are actually friends with my husband.

And I get to do it again next week with my mother. It's a good fall.

Intrigued

Okay, so my favorite band is done. It's very depressing, there are no tour dates on their Web site anymore. Sniff.

BUT, the singer and the cellist are doing solo work, and aparently the drummer, all-around-instrumentalist and bassist are in Bill Carson and His Checkered Past. Now, I haven't been able to listen to the scant three clips on their site yet, but the site design has me very hopeful. And I want to remember them for future experimentation, hence this post.

Hence why I am also mentioning Cary Ann Hearst. Jump has long referenced her, and I believe I spot some of them in the photo on her entry site. Unfortunately, I guess her site doesn't like Macs because I can't get any farther than that. So something else to check up on at home. (What, I blog from work? NEVER!)

I have the best idea...

Okay, Halloween is approaching. Whenever I ask Abigail, what she wants to be, she just says a ghost. But I want something more creative. I want something fun for the whole family. And from a co-worker's passing comment tonight, I got a brainstorm! A eureka moment!

Blue's Clues.

costume

Not just a costume for Abigail, but all of us. Brad could be Joe

blues_preschool

and I could be Miss Marigold, the fabulously stylish preschool teacher.

marigold

Actually, Brad could be Joe's predecessor, Steve, who wore stripped rugby shirts -- of which Brad has the appropriate rainbow of colors! It's PERFECT! And Abbey already does a great Blue impression (though mine's better ...).

Oh, the agony of stiffling laughter at work

Oh, dear God! I have found the most hysterical site Go fug yourself -- well, it's hysterical if you're like me and my co-worker who love to ridicule celebrities. I don't know what it is -- hatred of all things talentless-pop, revulsion at self-serving celebutaunts (isn't that a great word?), disbelief that people can live in such shallow little bubbles -- but, damn, it's fun to make fun of the Paris Hiltons in this world. Ripping apart clothing at awards shows is highly entertaining -- plus they allow you to ignore the awards show itself and mock everything it stands for. And these ladies have made mockery of these lovely specimens of socitey an artform. And this was pointed out to me in a Wall Stree Journal article, no less!

How quickly she grows

Abigail was gone all weekend to the beach with Nana and Pops. It was very nice not having a child to be responsible for, especially since I had a cold and could sleep as much as I wanted. I started to get anxious today when she was supposed to be getting home, but overall, I wasn't desperately sad that she wasn't there. It's exhausting working and trying to be somewhat of a stay-home mom, so sleep was very nice.

But when I went home for dinner tonight and saw that sweet little girl running to me, I realized how empty life is without her -- even well rested. I just wanted to hold her close for a long time, though of course she's three, and staying still isn't her strong suit. But she did give me a glorious, exuberant hug when I got home, saying joyfully, "I missed (and here, I expected "you, Mommy!") 'Dragon Tales'!" She then jumped down and ran back to the TV. Don't I feel loved! At least Brad's in the same boat. When she went running to him with a giant hug, all she said was, "Where's Mommy?" But she's a very happy kid, so we don't doubt she likes us.

When she is gone, even just for a few days, it seems like she grows exponentially. She just seems bigger, able to speak better. My little baby no longer. I even donated her stroller to a Hurricane Katrina evacuee family last week. Heck if she'll be inclined to sit still rather than walk anymore!