Bridgewater Soccer Mom's view of the world

I know that writing about a place of employment can open the author up to all sorts of troubles. Lawsuits and bad vibes at work are more than enough to keep me from making this a regular topic of blogging. That said, I know several of you are wondering how it is going in my new gig. So far, I love it, and how grateful I am to have such a fun working environment. Everything is done in teams - I'll be working with some super creative people plus a very diverse clientele. After just two days I've been amazed at the different kinds of people I've come across (over the phone). I've already seen the pitfalls of this job - things will go wrong some days, and now I know what to expect. But I have to admit: I love it. I wake up happy, and I drive home happy. The commute (so far - and it's only been six trips) hasn't been an issue. There's a coffee bar a few steps from my "cube" (which I enjoy having) where we can make as much keurig as we can consume

Somehow in some strange universe I became popular enough at my 20th high school reunion to rub elbows with A-listers who would never have spoken to me for 5 minutes in High School except perhaps to ask for an answer on Mrs. White's Social Studies test or to borrow five bucks. Fast forward 20 years and I was getting complimented on everything from my looks (a surprised "wow you look great" really is a translation of "how come you look so great now when you looked like "that" at sixteen"). The popular girls were interested in what I'm doing, where I'm living and the boys all noticed the low-cut cami I wore to a cocktail party at the Country Club. Somehow C, a popular football player from the "wrong side of the tracks" became the superstar who ran a world class 20th reunion. An act I'd rather not follow. What's done is done. He's bowed out and I'm taking over. I can tell this is an honor I should have refused. Where w

I'm writing this from my warm bed, under my down comforter with red and white flannel sheets, my head supported by 3 fluffy pillows.  It's after 9am and I'm in no rush. My start date for the new job got moved to Monday. The sun is shining and under the covers I don't care about the temperature.  A modern Princess and the Pea. Last night I could have gone out in the cold to hear the school Superintendent present the draft 2013-2014 budget.  The lion's share is cast in stone: salaries, benefits, etc. The Superintendent is presenting a sliver of spending. But it matters. Yesterday I decided that since our elected representatives on the school board chose to take away the public's right to vote on a budget, I have no business worrying about it. The dye is cast. While I do have some friends on the board of ed, it would likely take and act of God to change the budget now that the public no longer approves or rejects it.  The budget matters. My opinion?  Not so

It was an early start to make a 9am Saturday am class It was big weekend for knitters in New York - Vogue Knitting Live (VKL) an annual expo and I was there each day from a volunteer orientation (which was a HUGE waste of time) on Thursday. This weekend it was at the Marriott Marquis in Manhattan. As I type this, I find myself reflecting about the weekend, and wonder what I learned. A few months ago I signed up to volunteer. It was - as often the case - a much bigger commitment than I intended, but rewarding nonetheless- as volunteering usually is. I spent the better part of 10 hours (spread over three days) winding yarn. It is a tricky thing - if you haven't seen it before - yarn sometimes comes in a hank (not in a ball).  Strands get pulled around a "swift" then over to a "winder" to be wound into neat and manageable balls. If you think I'm doing a poor job explaining the process, it's OK. I felt like a fish out of water using these machines to d

I just counted SEVEN blogs posts started. 0 completed. That must be a new record. And I just published one that was nearly completed from Sunday. I only realized now that the title had nothing to do with the content. Oh well. So much has happened that I don't even quite know where to begin - and looking back on the first three of the seven unfinished posts, I feel like I've lost my train of thought. Since I started them a couple of weeks ago, I guess that is normal. Most of us can't remember a conversation we had in the last few minutes. "What were we talking about?" I started one entry about gun control - and schools. And guns in schools. And guns out of schools. If they arm teachers, we will have to create a plan B. But since it doesn't seem to be an option here (see this article ) I am not worrying about it. In general I feel that my kids are safe here. If I didn't, we'd move. Unlike some parents, we let our kids go out on their own (generally

(Written 1/13/2013, published 1/17) So much has happened already in 2013 that I am not sure where to start. So let's start with the now. Today is Sunday morning and I woke up in my bedroom - by my bedroom I mean the room I had as a teenager in my parents' (now father's) house. The house is almost identical to when I lived here as a child. Some furniture changes through the years - but the livingroom walls are filled with bookshelves with hard-covered coffee table art books (Mexico, Ibiza, an entire shelf of Frank Lloyd Wright and classics of Western Art - Monet, DaVinci, Uffizi - and that's just what I car read from the middle of the room). On the top shelf, no, shelves, apparently my father has collected a Churchill section. Yesterday he opened our Christmas presents, and this section has a new book. A memoir written by Churchill's daughter. Truly my parents could have saved a fortune on college by having their kids simply read the books already in the home! (I