jamie’s party 138, originally uploaded by kathieshoop.

Nothing like a family party to bring out the hairstylin’ geniuses.

Pretty well done for a couple of kids and a woman who hasn’t braided hair in 20 years.

Not that it really requires a genius, but I happen to know certain adults who can’t braid at all.

Why is this important, worthy of blogging about?

It isn’t of course, but I love the picture so, here it is.

DSC01810, originally uploaded by kathieshoop.

Hello fellow bloggers,

Here’s some nutrition to tide you over until I’m back to better blogging shape!!!

Aren’t summer veggies grown by neighborhood farmers the best?

I think so too.

What are you eating this summer?

DSC01796, originally uploaded by kathieshoop.

No Pittsburgh childhood is complete without trips to the number one traditional amusement park in the country.

The park is pretty though some complain it’s too dirty. Of course it’s dirty, thousands of people traipse through it each day, littering, stomping, dripping with all sorts of debris. And there’s still an active steel mill across the river from it.

Please, I think we all know what the mills contribute to anything within its smoky grasp.

I guess I have low standards, but I love the place and I like it gritty, thank you very much.

DSC01667, originally uploaded by kathieshoop.

Well, here’s the real knee shot you’ve all been waiting for.

Brought to you via my in-law’s porch swing.

It’s the single greatest summer spot (except for the beach of course) where somehow the choking humidity doesn’t exist and a cool breeze runs through otherwise, perfectly still air. A miracle of sorts.

Anyway, here’s hoping your summer day is not humidity filled.

DSC01759, originally uploaded by kathieshoop.

HA! See how far I’ve come since the last photo? My supple knees and slender calves???? And seriously, I didn’t change anything at all. I can’t exactly say how I came to wear this skin. But I can truthfully admit that I definately didn’t diet, no siree!!!

Really, of course this ISN’T me. Sillies, you’re all so gullible.

This pretty set of knees comes straight from the Pittsburgh Ballet Theater where my daughter Beth takes classes and let me say, though these are not my knees, I used to have the same exact ones.

So, I’m still 12 pounds less. I suppose standing still is better than falling back…

Hope you all had terrific weekends!

…of my life.

The half that works outside of the home.

The part that utilizes both what I know as a writer and a teacher.

So, over the sweltering summer (okay it’s been cold for most of June, but I love that, I won’t complain for anything about that…) I’ve been enjoying my kids and their activities and not having to monitor backpacks, school stuff, anything that seems to bring stress.

But, in my crazy enjoyment of life and all it entails, I had to begin to prepare for one of the workshops I’m doing at the school where I consult.

Seems easy enough. But, carving out professional time in my private, non-babysitter, life has been harder than I thought it would be.

So, sixteen hours into the major planning of the workshop (with many hours beforehand that yeilded ingredients but no concrete stuff until now) I’m ready to go and hopefully things will go well…

I’ll let you know…

I’m thinking of you all, hope everyone’s good and I’ll be back with a good post (relatively speaking of course) soon. 

Yes, and Fat Friday, it haunts me daily and I have not chickened out I’ve just been buried in writing materials.

Thanks for hanging in.

So, how many of you actually write down passwords and usernames for all the millions of sites and services that require them in your life?

Now, don’t fib.

Am I the only one who needs a hint as to this username or that password everytime I’m prompted to put one in?

I don’t balance a check book in a traditional fashion so why would one expect that I might keep track of passwords, etc. like normal people?

All I need is a teeny clue, like…

Username____ (could be your email address dumbass)

Password____(nine characters with at least one letter, slacker)

I don’t know. If I don’t write any of it down, then no one can steal it by conventional means (ie. sneaking into my home through a window and rifling through my neatly stored documents to find the secret codes that unlock the innards of my life).

I don’t even write down most phone numbers. I memorize them by the patterns they make on the keypad.

Oh well, this way if I kick the bucket any time soon, my living relatives can remember me as they pull their hair strand, by strand from their heads as they try to piece together the bits of my life.

That could be fun, no?

So, how do you handle things like this?  Are you a thorough list-maker extraordinaire or lazy memorizer who spends more time trying to unlock her own codes that it would take to write them down in the first place?

DSC01601, originally uploaded by kathieshoop.

…To be young means
To be all on edge, to be held waiting in
A packed lounge for a Personal Call
From Long Distance, for the low voice that
Defines one’s future. The fears we know
Are of not knowing…

–WH Auden–The Age of Anxiety

So, my children’s lives, filled with fun activities, at times don’t feel so fun to them. But good lessons are learned in the center of angst–"How will I know when I swim?" "Will I make it to the end?" "Will I ever stop shivering from this cold?"

How else does a person learn that there is always, always an end to anxiety–at least a lessening of it if you have some control–even a little bit over your existence.

The key is forging a life that you create yourself, that even when its impacted by things out of your control, there is a kernel of strength buried inside.

And sometimes, you must be forced to learn the lesson…swim the race, finish what you started. And then we can talk.

This seems like such an easy task–interacting with educated people who have the same goals and love kids and the work they do. But, as I plan the summer workshops I’ll do with a group of teachers I keep getting stuck.

It’s not that I don’t have the content at my fingertips. Planning writing workshops, making sure that all aspects of grammar  and writing conventions are addressed in the course of actually allowing kids to write is not the problem.

But on paper, it’s flat and lifeless. The art of teaching writing is in bringing content that’s so easily laid out in black in white to life with and for the kids.

To make writing meaningful, so that all the stuff that kids are tested on actually matters to them in their lives requires the intangible stuff. Teachers have to find a way to love what they’re doing even if they don’t. Writing isn’t easy for adults. Staring at the blank sheet or monitor can be intimidating for anyone. How do I teach adults to love writing, themselves, to share their writing life with the students as part of the process?

Well, part of the solution is to engage the teachers in writing. I know these people, but most of the work I’ve done with them so far has revolved around reading instruction with only spurts dedicated to writing. I have no idea if any or all of them write for pleasure, hate writing, see it as a useful tool to be mastered and tracked with check lists, if they are poets or can’t get enough time to write nonfiction, or if the extent of what they compose can be boiled down to lesson plans. And believe it or not, that matters in terms of instructing others.

So, as I help them shape instruction for the students–I’ll have to find a way to sell the idea that they need to write, to model real writing, their writing, and that in the end the students will find magic in the process and maybe they will too (maybe they already do).

I’m not sure I’m that good.

But, I think I can do it. 

And so we’ll see.

DSC01557, originally uploaded by kathieshoop.

What are these things you wonder. Your gut tells you they’re something a bit grotesque though your eyes can’t say why that’s so, you can just feel it as you recoil from your screen.

And your instincts are right. These winged objects are actually the "SuperLite Adhesive Bra" I wore to a formal dinner the other night.

I bought three different items to experiment with that night because as any girl over the age of fifteen knows (okay, not the free-wheeling braless ones), finding a strapless bra that works is as elusive as that pot of gold at the end of some crappy magic rainbow.

So, I bought this gem of a bra, another bra that amounts to nothing more than paper with glue on the back and the old fashioned kind that never, ever stays up, but I couldn’t quite trust that this baby would do the trick. Let me tell you why.

This bad-boy is essentially a set of separated bra cups with glue on the back. The package claims that not only will these things stick to your skin, though somehow not rip it off upon removal, you can create varying degrees of cleavage to suit your needs. What’s not enticing about all that?

It seemed like it could be possible, but yet, how could this thing really work.

I imagined the adhesive leeching into my skin and blood stream sending the China manufactured glue toxiins right to my already lesioned brain. Or worse, images of one cup or the other snapping off and wiggling out from under my dress, causually sprawling itself on the ground at my feet. I visualized how I would step over the bra cup, snickering that I can’t fathom how a bra cup could simply materialize out of thin air.

I was prepared to try all three bras, knowing the process would put me in a full sweat by the time I actually left the house to go have dinner with a bunch of people who I barely know, am not sure how many I like and am damn sure everyone one of them is in fantastic shape and the last thing they’re worried about is how to stuff their perfect boobs into a adhesive bra.

So. There I was inspecting the apparatus, the half-bra and I have to say the damn thing worked. No slippage, no nipple issues, not even any trouble getting the things off. Other than it looked ridiculous as my boob stretched in all sorts of odd directions as the glue released.

Over all, I have to say as a feminine product goes, this is a can’t miss and I suggest it for anyone who has to do anything that requires straplessness.