I flew to Portland out of Fairbanks which has a very small, almost outpost airport. While there, I went to the little restaurant and ordered a soda for my wait. It was a self-serve unit, but there weren't any cups left, so I had to flag down the person who worked there and asked for some more. It was about this time that I noticed a young couple to my left that were speaking Japanese and obviously trying to figure out what was on the menu but were having trouble with the English. I thought back to asking the man for cups and realized that while I didn't say any exceptionally big words, I didn't use elementary English either. It was all so easy. I asked in a fairly sophisticated way for what I needed, he responded, I gave him money and I was done. Almost no mental strain had to go into the situation.

All of a sudden I missed my husband and wished we were in a foreign airport where we couldn't understand the menu and had to pick words out that we recognized - which would inevitably be few. I love the excitement of it all and the humility that comes from not knowing how to do everything or communicate my needs effectively. While standing there I took a second to appreciate the global world we live in and the fact that I was standing next to people I probably couldn't hold a conversation with but I felt a kinship towards. We were the same.

Wiener Casserole

When I got married my aunt gave me a book of recipes she received from my other aunt when she got married. It is full of wildly exciting and exotic recipes like spam casserole. My favorite, though, has always been wiener casserole but I have never had the nerve to make it. However, this New Year's Eve my parents were visiting and I decided that it was time to go back in history. So I did. The results were that Greg refused to eat it, my step-father liked it a lot, and my mother was a good sport.

In case you want to try it yourself, here is the recipe:

1 pound diced wieners
2 cups chopped cheddar cheese
1 can of corn
1 can of olives
1 can of beans
1 small onion
2 cups of ketchup (!)
1/8 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp salt
1 tbsn sugar

Mix together and bake for 1 hour at 350

Looking Good

Barista: How are you?

Mary: I am doing just fine. How are you?

Barista: Fantastic. When you look this good at my age you cease having bad days.

Just My Size

When I was a kid I used to love things that were small, especially if I could use them in some way. I loved small boxes to keep my treasures and small candies to eat. This is one of the main reasons elementary school was so fun: everything was my size. The desks and chairs not only had my name (Mary Mac because there was another Mary in the class), but they were small. I didn't have to jump or climb; I could slid into my seat just like an adult. Everything in an elementary school is made for little ones, thus I could reach and touch anything. It was delightful and I distinctly remember walking down the hallway of my school, out of Miss Vicki's 1st grade classroom toward Mrs. Perry in the library with a laminated hall pass and thinking "this is so cool. I am so grown-up." (Of course that same hallway carried many tears and pleads for my mommy, but this post is about how excited I was to be a mini-adult, not how scary it was not to have my mom around when something went terribly wrong.)

This obsession with things my size continued throughout my elementary years when I moved to the 4th grade hall and suddenly things were slightly larger than the previous hall and again fit me perfectly. I especially loved the bathrooms because the toilets were larger than the 1-3 grade bathroom (indicating that I am growing up), yet smaller than an adult bathroom and I appreciated the ease in which I could use the small toilet and wash my hands in the short sink while dreaming about great it will be when I'm in High School and very cool, just like my big brother. For some reason the freedom of washing my hands in a sink that was my size lathered up ideas about how I great my life would be once I got to high school; an existence without hall-passes and where my friends I would talk about really important things - I couldn't quite imagine what they were at the time, but I knew there would be things worth giggling about in the bathroom. Sometimes I would even catch myself laughing in the mirror to practice.

The reason I bring this up is that the bathrooms in the building I tutor are small, which is weird because this is a university not an elementary school. But every time I walk in I catch my inner child squealing with delight because it is all Just My Size.

It's Official

I cannot express to you how excited I am to announce that I am GOING TO SPAIN FOR OVER A MONTH this summer. I have been accepted into University of Cambridge's TEFL (TESOL) training course in Barcelona. The application process was a little tough - 7 pages including some terrible grammar questions - and an interview over the phone at 5am this morning. But I was accepted and will get a flat in Barcelona and get certified to teach English anywhere in the world. (Then maybe I'll go and make a difference and do some good and all that.)

My mom is going to go over a few weeks early with me and we're going to cruise around Spain and Portugal until my classes start. I am so excited I can hardly handle myself and need to stop this post because I am losing my ability to sit still.

Yea!!

Things That Make You Go Hmmmm

In the midst of my kitchen crisis I was all in a tizzy, but my first-friend Jillian and I had a date to go see the best feature selection of the Anchorage International Film Festival. I showed up for the movie, called Journey from the Fall, and vented a bit to Jillian before it began. Once the movie started, however, I was completely caught up in the story and about halfway through thought back to my mini temper tantrum I had about something as silly as wacky electric in my kitchen and was overcome with...I'm not sure what. It wasn't shame because before I walked into the movie I felt justifiably upset. And even in retrospect, sparks coming out of outlets should ignite some anxiety for me if for no other reason than to get it fixed. I guess it was perspective - I'm not sure if it makes sense to have an overwhelming sense of perspective, but that is the only thing I can come up with and this feeling has lasted several days.

At dinner after Jillian and I discussed the film as a text - you know, talking about the structure (which was amazingly and beautifully confusing to further the underlying emotion of the story (very much like Huong's Memory of a Pure Spring which is also interesting in that they are both Vietnamese stories discussing the Vietnam War and used the time-confusion-for-the-higher-purpose-of-the-story in two very different mediums)), the acting, direction, characters, writing, etc.

It was the next day that I began to notice the impact this movie had on me. I kept finding myself trying to figure out how to make the world a better place and asking myself what I am doing to positively impact those around me. I was unable to sleep because I was outlining how lucky I am to have been born into this country. I sat with my cup of tea staring out the window trying to figure out how I could better understand the stories of other people and cultures and where my responsibility to them lie. I asked whether the life I am leading is to my full potential. I noticed those talking in a different language at the store and admired their perseverance and appreciated their place in two cultures as an enviable position. To be able to see out of this culture and society to appreciate that we (and I) am not the center of the world seems like a tremendous gift. I went to lunch with my neighbor, who grew up in Russia during communist rule, and we talked about what her life was like then and now and the short and long term effects of the political upheaval for her country and family.

I am used to having this happen when I read books. I often spend the time after I complete a book looking at what is happening through their eyes. I am used to books challenging the way I want to live my life and the kind of person I want to be. But this doesn't happen very often with movies. I think that is why I tend to write about tv shows and movies in this blog rather than all of the books I read. The books, and this particular film, are a part of my journey in a way that movies and tv are not. I can think about shows and analyze their parts but they rarely infiltrate the way I perceive my life, which is exactly what this movie did. So I am left to search out the reasons why this film calls me to action and what I can do as a result of stepping inside the lives of re-education camp prisoners and boat people.

The only thing I can say, and none of this has much substance, is that I have been thinking of the hardships facing so many in the world and what I should, could, and most importantly, will do to find the best in me and give that to others. And about the bravery and sacrafices that underlie each immigrant that is in our country and my responsibility toward helping to make their new life better than the one they left.

Are You Kidding Me?

Here is a list of things that have occurred in my kitchen in the last week.
*Note this does not include the water falling through my kitchen ceiling or buying a new refrigerator for my tenants as they were previously reported.

• the 3 outlets in the dining room that didn't work, then did work, now don't work again.
• The main outlet not only won't reset, but has sparks flying out when an attempt to reset is made.
  
• my dishwasher is not working.
• my stove (all of it) is not working.
• the overhead (and only) kitchen light is not working.
  
• the water in the building is off for another hour.
  

I am wondering if I did something very mean to someone last week without realizing it to cause this kick of bad karma.

They Remember Me

I called the vet today to see if I could get some sort of sedative for the kittens for the upcoming drive to Fairbanks. I explained that our last trip was exhausting for all three of us and something to take the edge off would be much appreciated. She asked what my kitten's names are and when I responded Limbe and Kribi, she said "Oh, hi Mary." I guess the vet techs remember you if you cry when picking up your kittens after being fixed (see Of Cops and Kittens).

It's Raining Friends, Hallelujah, It's Raining Friends!

My social life seems to have been resurrected in four ways. It all happened since last Friday and I am not sure how or why everything chose to converge in early December, but I am not complaining. I have been tentative to share this with you because I didn't want to jinx it, but I am a little excited.

Resurrection #1: My friend Stephanie, who used to read this blog a lot but will probably stop now, has officially moved back to Anchorage from upstate New York. She is staying at my house until she finds a more permanent residence, which means that there is activity in the house. And that I have one more friend in Anchorage. And someone to have a cocktail or two with at night. Hooray!

Resurrection #2: The downstairs neighbor I have been wooing is officially my friend (we haven't discussed it, I've just inferred). Just this week we have:

• gone to a lecture about dance choreographed specifically for film
• had tea in my living room
• gone to a film at the Anchorage International Film Festival
• loaned each other our Netflix before sending them back
• made tentative plans for Saturday (pending the timing of plans with Resurrection #3)

Resurrection #3: A prof in my department invited me to another film festival movie on Tuesday (it was a good movie filmed on Whidbey Island and starred the same kid as Van Sant's Elephant). She also invited me over for a get together on Saturday evening - the timing of which is in-flux and may influence my "date" with my neighbor.

Resurrection #4: My one-friend Jillian (who, I guess, it no longer my one-friend, but my first-friend) has had more time in her schedule this week, so I have seen her twice!

I am quite pleased with myself and am looking forward to not being quite so bored.

Haircut

I got me some bangs!

Who Shall I Be Today?

Sometimes I am baffled by my lack of creativity. I like to think that I have a sharp mind and that I may even be occasionally witty, but more often than not I am flabbergasted that I didn't think of something so obvious. And, sometimes these realizations make me understand that I am a bit square.

I was listening to a story on the radio while driving to work about people giving fake names to Starbucks baristas. Some used names like Petunia or Satan. The author claims different name each time, generally someone currently grabbing the media's attention, like Condoleeza or Nancy Pelosi. A barista she interviewed said that one of her customers always said "me" so that the barista would announce "soy latte for me." Apparently this is a phenomenon and I not only didn't think of it myself, but didn't get the memo.

At the risk of jumping on the bandwagon, I think I am going to start doing this. And I might not stop there. What about a dinner reservation for Virginia Woolf? Or putting a pair of shoes on hold for Kribi? Of course, I love watching Without A Trace, so what happens if I disappear and Jack can't find me because no one remembers Mary getting a tea, but there was an Elizabeth Bennett that matches the description. I just have to hope that Jack heard the same story on the radio and/or is a little more imaginative than me.

Summary

The Facts

• Spent 10 days in an RV with husband and cats in Fairbanks.
  
• Cats don’t like traveling in cars. Especially for 6 hours one-way.
• The average temperature in Fairbanks while I was there was -20. It got to -30 and on the day I left hit a balmy -6.
• RVs aren’t made for that kind of cold so Greg winterized it. Meaning it had three layers of insillation on all windows and three space heaters (note: no natural light). Hay bails surrounded the bottom as to keep the space underneath still and near zero (so the floors of the RV were not too cold). Too cold for running water. No usable bathroom.
• Shared one bathroom with 10 other RVs, all of them occupied by men Greg works with. Had to run across the lot to get to it. I was the only girl in the neighborhood. Saw one of them in his underwear, which was NOT a pretty sight. He didn’t seem to mind.
• The bathroom was nasty and the water was so hard that the entire shower was Bright Orange. And it smelled like sulfer.
• I read 4 books and made a movie.
• I like Fairbanks way, way, way more than Anchorage. That was a huge surprise.
  

Something I Like About Fairbanks

• The Northern Lights – Thanksgiving night they were so spectacular that we drove to a place without lights and watched them dance across the sky. They really do move like they’re alive and every time I watch a good show I am taken aback as to how wonderful they really are. I wish I could show you, but no picture does justice. It’s almost as though the molecules in my body respond to the molecules up there. I could watch them for hours if it wasn’t so damn cold. We lasted (maybe) five minutes.
  

Something I Forgot About Fairbanks

• The insane cold temperatures make it beautiful. Generally I say that Fairbanks has its own kind of beauty in that it really is kind of ugly. But the cold maintains a frost on all trees and so there is no brown, only white. On everything. When it is light, the sky is a gentle blue that lulls. The sunrises and sunsets (conveniently only a few hours apart) are lovely in that colors that are generally so vibrant and alive are gentle and mysterious because of the barrier of cold. Fairbank's sunsets cannot be compared to any other sunsets I have seen. They are unique and foreign.

Something That Surprised Me

• I remembered -20 as colder than it was, which was a lovely surprise. I remembered being unable to breathe in without coughing and not being able to breathe through my nose at all. But that is more -40. 20 below means that you cannot take deep breaths without coughing, but normal breathing is unimpaired. And, udder cream is not necessary for nose breathing until 40 below.

Something I Noticed Myself Doing That I Forgot I Used To Do

• Clap because it is cold. Especially in the car. You can’t go anywhere fast because cars need about 20 minutes to warm up. This rule can be avoided if you turned it off within the hour. Thus, if you don’t have an auto-start (man’s greatest invention for cold weather that we do not own) you jump into a cold car after eating dinner and go several minutes before any heat begins. This is where I clap with my red mittens in order to try to keep warm. Yelping also occurs. As does cursing. And bouncing in the seat.

My Two Favorite Quotes About Fairbanks

• “It’s a great place to live but I wouldn’t want to visit there.” I don’t remember where I read this, a travel guide, I think, but I totally agree with it. It is a little ugly and there’s not much here, but the community is spectacular and it has a lot of heart.
• “Take the worst place you’ve ever been and take away the sunlight.” The back of the book The Worst Places To Live in America. I heard about this in line at the bookstore and the ladies were laughing about it. (That’s the difference between Anchorage and Fairbanks. Here they’d be pissed. There they think it is funny.)

Timeline

• I head back with the cats in three weeks for winter break.
  

North Pole, Alaska

North Pole, Alaska has been making quite a splash in the news lately. For those that aren't familiar with small-town Alaskan geography (and really, why should you be), North Pole is a suburb south of Fairbanks. When I was in college in Fairbanks I used to get a kick out of saying to people back home, "yeah, North Pole is 15 minutes south of my house. I live farther north than Santa." That was in the day when Alaska was my Adventure and equivalent of Living Abroad. And my cabin with no plumbing was Embracing the Culture. And having a car not start because it is too cold even though it has been plugged in since I got home was Exciting. And being half an hour late for an appointment because a moose was standing between my house and the car was legitimate and Wonderful. I could go on and on. I digress. My point is this: even when everything Alaska threw at me was a gift and a new way of looking at things, I was still disappointed in North Pole. It was cheesy Christmas, not warm Christmas. It had candy-cane light poles, yes, but Santa Claus's house was tacky and had random murals painted on the outside (I'll take a photo for you when I am up there next week).

As a result, I am always surprised when people look at North Pole and get caught up in how great it could be without really noticing what it is. Perhaps I am being too hard on it. It has it's own charm, but I remember my friends who grew up in Fairbanks saying they would never live in North Pole because "that's where the hicks live." So, to sum it up, in my opinion, North Pole doesn't live up to its name. Even as I write this I want to yell, "But it is North Pole. Santa lives there. That has to count for something." So, I guess it does. Of course it does. Santa can transform anything.

I digressed again. I started out by saying that North Pole has been making a splash lately, and it has.

• Extreme Makeover Home Edition did a show there for a deserving family. I didn't watch it, although I wanted to and still wish I had.
  
• North Pole's Wendy's was named World's Best Fast Food Stop. Apparently it has 300,000 visitors annually even though the town's population is only 1,600 people. Plus it has holiday decorations year round and is walking distance from Santa's House. I've eaten there. It's just a Wendy's.
  
• Finally, I noticed that Duracell took dibs on being the official battery of North Pole, Alaska, which makes me wonder who got the money and whether I can buy another brand within city limits. Another thing I'll check out.

I'll be there next week and I will keep you posted as to whether things have changed. My opinion of Alaska has changed so much this time around that I can't help but hope that I will fall in love with the little town in spite of myself.

Bad News on a Short Drive

My drive to work is short; generally about 3 stories on NPR. And today, all three stories compounded atop one another to make me mildly upset at the state of the world, but in a very selfish way. Here's why:

1) OJ Simpson has a new book coming about how he would have committed the murders had he murdered Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman. The interviews are being aired on Fox News in a two-night special. He is getting paid 3.5 million dollars for the book and interview. So let's just presume he admits he committed the murder (which, as much as I want justice and all that I hope he is not stupid enough to do (as if somehow the omission would further degrade society or something. I don't really know)) he cannot be retried because of double jeopardy, which I know all about because I watched that Ashley Judd movie. Perhaps the most upsetting thing for me is that I kind of want to watch the interview.

2) The Weinstein brothers (who started Miramax, sold it to Disney, and now have another production company) have made a deal making Blockbuster the only company who can rent their movies for three years. I am appalled. I have numerous reasons why I dislike Blockbuster, several of which stem from an excellent paper one of my students wrote, but my main reason is that their independent film section at my local store has Carmen Electra's Stripper Workout and other nonsense non-independent films. I got Netflix because I'd rather not watch Saw III. But that means that I cannot put Weinstein produced movies in my queue, leaving me with three options. The first is renting them from Blockbuster, but that wouldn't be economical as I already pay a monthly fee for video rentals. Plus, I would rather not go there in general. Another option is to watch the movies in the theatre, but I don't go to full priced movies anymore and that would be rewarding the Weinsteins for bad behavior (although Blockbuster pays for the movies based on the box office take of each movie, but again that is punishing Blockbuster and rewarding the Weinsteins - twice). My other option is just to ban the movies altogether, but I do want to see Bobby. But then I have to wonder whether all this though is worth it. I mean, I am only one person. What does it matter?

3) With the wind chill it is between -15 and -30 degrees this morning. That's brisk. It also tells me that I am not that crazy and it really is Fucking Cold. Officially.

Fishnets and Uggs

I've always hated Uggs and couldn't figure out how they became so popular. They aren't cute or svelte. They're not clunky in the way I like shoes to clunk. Pam Anderson (Lee? Rock?) wears them in the LA heat. I have rolled my eyes numerous times saying "Uggs? Uck!" and giggling to myself about my wit. But once again I am eating my words. I got some. And I love them.

It started out innocently enough. I needed to buy some pants. You see, I am heading up to see Greg in Fairbanks next week and it is hovering around -20 below. The problem lies in the fact I have one pair a pants that I can wear below 60 degrees (above zero). They're jeans and they're cute, but I can't wear them everyday while I am there. So I went to the mall (blech) to find some pants. I stumbled into Nordstrom where they were having their half-yearly sale and walked through the shoe department out of mere curiosity. No intent to buy. I promise. But I saw the Ugg display and touched their inner softness and felt the icicles that were once my toes. I swear my feet are colder living in Alaska this time - but perhaps it's that my resolve is weaker, I don't know. What I do know is that my feet are perpetually cold. So I touched and my heart started to understand the appeal of the Uggs. Then I looked at the price and promptly sauntered away. As I was pursuing the sale rack I noticed there was an Ugg (Is one shoe singular Ugg or is it one Uggs?) sitting on the shelf. I asked for the other shoe just to see what they felt like on - to channel my inner Pam Anderson (or Lee or Rock or whatever) and the warmth of Southern California. They were $100 off. They were warm. And soft. And somehow when I put them on my feet they became cute. I wanted them. I needed them. But only if I had fishnets. I mean, fishnets would cancel out the (maybe) ugliness and the certifiable LA-ness and bring the funk. The sexy librarian funk. The Alaskan English Professor funk.

I bought the Uggs and the fishnets (plus two pairs of pants) and walked out happy. I've worn them everyday and, I must say, I think I am working them. Most importantly, I can feel my toes.

PS I had my "date" with my neighbor and it went wonderful. I think I love her.

Fetch

When Greg and I moved up here I was torn between wanting cats or a dog. I have always been a cat person and while I like dogs alright, I have a hard time getting past the stink and having to wash my hands every time I touch one with a finger. My tune changed slightly when I awoke last spring to a stranger sleeping on my couch. All of a sudden I wanted an animal that will tell me when someone breaks in, especially because Greg is often gone at night. I also foresaw my loneliness here and wanted an animal that would greet me at the door and give me lots of love. For a variety of reasons that I will not bore you with, we decided to get our kittens instead of a dog and I am wildly happy that we did.

The surprising thing is that my kitties are more like dogs than I ever imagined they would be. For example, every time I come in the door they are waiting for me. They hear the key in the door and come running - sometimes still yawning from their nap. I've heard of cats thinking they are dogs, but my little ones see and conduct themselves as cats - they don't have an identity crisis. The best dog-like feature is that Limbe plays fetch. She uses earplugs that wrapped in a plastic bag that Greg brings home from work in his pocket. They are perfect for her because they make noise and there is something gooey in the middle to gnaw on (sometimes we'll play catch with her mitten, but she really doesn't like me touching it). Generally we play in the morning when I am waking up. She hears my alarm, comes charging up the bed, and drops the earplugs in my hand or next to my nose. I pick it up and throw it across the room. Like a gazelle she leaps off the bed, grabs the earplugs, and brings them back to me by dropping them into my hand. We'll play for half an hour if I'll allow it.

Of course, because she is a cat I cannot instigate our games. She tells me when we play.

Update

Remember the downstairs neighbor I really want to be friends with? Well, she returned my brownie plate with a thank you note and a reference to us getting to know each other better. She also offered me tickets to her show (she's a performer in town) and I went to the show tonight. I left a message asking her to come over for a glass of wine tonight if she was up to it, or perhaps meet for lunch later in the week. I await semi-patiently.

Is it just me or does it seem like we are courting each other?

Static

I forgot about the static in Alaska. When I was in college I used to have to rub dryer sheets on my clothes in order to kill some of the static that would cause everything to cling while hopefully stopping me from getting shocked anytime I touch anything. It was terrible. And it hurt. These shocks were not the gentle shocks that I would get visiting my dad's office when I was a kid. They're the kind that made my finger hurt for several minutes afterward. I could actually feel the electricity race up my arm. I figured that my issues with static stemmed from living in an arctic dessert with less than a dozen inches of precipitation a year - including snow. But the static is alive and well in Anchorage. I find myself touching everything with tentative jabs; I never grab a doorknob anymore.

It is worst with the cats. Every time I touch them we both get shocked. Last week I was up in the middle of the night with all of the lights off and picked up Kribi. He loves to be held like a baby and have his chest and stomach rubbed while he looks into my eyes. We were in the midst sharing a moment (or I assume we were - I couldn't really see in the dark) and I was taken aback by the fireworks exploding on his stomach. Blue and white sparks everywhere. I could only imagine what it must feel like for him "ooh. ow! yes, please. no! right there. shit!" Poor thing. It's a wonder they even want to be petted anymore. I am certainly more tentative because of all the pain it causes me.

I need to go get a humidifier, but those puppies are expensive and I keep on thinking if I just hold out...I don't know. I'll toughen up?

News

What a day for news, huh?

• Alaska elected its first female governor, Sarah Palin, who the Anchorage Daily News reported is as conservative as you can get.
  
• The United States has the first female speaker of the house, Nancy Pelosi, whose politics are almost exactly opposite of Sarah Palin's.
• Diane Benson received 40% of the vote for Alaska's sole seat in the US Congress, which is the closest anyone has come to Don Young in decades.
• I kept my record as having no one I vote for win the election (it's pretty amazing, really. It's almost as if I am a curse).

AND

• Britney Spears filed for divorce from Kevin Federline. Both are seeking custody of the kids and Federline is asking spousal support.
  

Tomorrow cannot possibly beat today. I mean, I barely made it out of my house today for fear I'd miss something on tv (like who won the Virginia senate race).

Knitting Group

I went to my local yarn shop yesterday because I needed a refresher on casting off and what to do with those pesky strings. I sat down with a very nice woman and after a few hours of knitting together, she invited me to her Tuesday morning knitting group.

I nervously showed up fashionably late and the group of six women made room for me at the table as I sat down with my straight-knitting (no purl stitches) scarf. They were all working on sweaters and I was the youngest one at the table by 30 years. In spite of both of these differences I felt very welcome and was even inspired to try some new stitches on my next scarf. It was the first time that I had sat down with more than one person in a social setting since I moved here and, I have to say, it felt nice.

They talked about so-and-so getting engaged to the hip (and other parts of the anatomy) replacement parts salesman, how handy it is to know him, and about one of the lady's experience with using name brand versus generic parts in a hip replacement surgery. One of the local high school's (where several of them went and all of their children - who are my age - attended) art collection was another topic. My favorite part, though, was when one of the women, we'll call her Barbara partly to respect her privacy and partly because I have forgotten her name, reported about Sally's voting decision this morning (Sally is a regular in the knitting group, but missed today). Apparently it was the first time Sally had ever not voted the same as her husband. She voted for Tony Knowles, the democratic former two-term governor, rather than Sarah Palin, the republican former mayor of Wasilla. She had a litany of reasons that she laid out for Barbara as a way to convince herself that she made the best decision. One of the reasons she gave for voting for Tony was experience. Sally cited Palin's promise to trust the legislature and surround herself with people who know what they're doing as not a good plan. Sally's reasoning was that if she hires someone to clean her house, she has to know how to do it herself in order to determine whether the housecleaner is doing a good job. Once Barbara completed her story, she made a statement about how much she loved a housewife's way of relating her life to her civic duty.

The bottom line is that I had a lovely time and they invited me to come back next week. The woman who invited me even suggested that we work on making a tea cozy for our next project so we'd be able to help each other out and talk through the pattern. You know where I'll be next Tuesday at 10.