Wednesday, April 30, 2008 in cervical cancer, linky love

Pick your fave underwear, donate to cervical cancer research

I meant to write about this way sooner I did. I was all jazzed to and everything, because I thought that someone from HerRoom.com had hunted me down specifically becasue of my illness all last year.

Nope. They just googeled me on twitter. And then sent an automated email. I know this because I got a duplicate a few days later, but from someone else entirely.

While crushing to my ego, it doesn’t dim the fact that they are holding The Undies an “awards” ceremony for your favorite underwear. Each vote will be matched with a donation, up to $100,000. Last year they got 12,000 votes.

So for a small cancer that can actually be prevented, there’s still more work to be done. I know some people are on the fence about Gardasil, and this is one way that you can help bring more funds for more research.

Click away!

Tuesday, April 29, 2008 in education, homeschooling, how my children learn

Using technology in your home(school)

Amy  Bowllan from School Library Journal ask me to contribute to a conversation about using technology as a learning tool in the homeschool, and did I ever fill her inbox. 😀 You can read part one here. Long time readers will recognize a lot of it, unschoolers will be nodding their heads. Hopefully a couple of my kids might even chime in.  Although The Boy is now done college and is busy moving for his work co-op as an ASP programmer for the Dept of Secondary Education (talk about proof of concept…), so he might be too busy.

Added bonus: see Sarah using the computer at age 2, and in diapers (cloth, naturally 😉 way back in the dark ages when you had to pin and fold them). And yes I did ask her permission before posting that. Sarah has recently done some work for a local small business, designing posters and brochures, all on computer.

Boy, the first time in a long time where I write pages about some homeschooling topic, and it’s for someone else’s site. 😀

Saturday, April 26, 2008 in all about me

I can finally shut up about my hair

(although I probably won’t because I also want to color it. Anyway.)

Yesterday, after 13 long months, I finally got my hair cut. I figure you are just as relieved as I am. I walked into one of those strip-mall walk-in places – Magic Cuts I think, I keep calling it wrong and giving Sarah an anuerism. Meaghan & Emma wanted to wait in the car and look over the yard sale stuff we got at a previous stop. Yes, this area has Friday yard sales and we had hit a good one on the way in, first of the season.

At any rate, my butt had barely warmed the hard plastic chair and I was being ushered over to the cushy haircutting chair. Natasha, the sign informed me, was ready to serve me with her professionally made-up and styled self. I caught sight of her French manicure and felt decidedly frumpy.

“What would you like today?” she asked, and I was more than happy to give direction. Short back and sides, not quite enough for clippers this time, leave the top with a bit of bang and enough to run my fingers through.

Her brows furrowed. “Hmmm…” she said as she scrutinized my head. “Why don’t I start, and we’ll check as we go along?”

Okay then.

I chattered away as she made her initial cuts, stopping once in the back to check the length of the beauty-school T along the crown. “This good?” I told her we’d start there and if she had to trim a bit, that’d be fine. I continued to try and fill the silence and hopefully give her direction. Initially to me she seemed unsure, and that is not always a good sign. Least of all when someone is near your head with scissors.

Think eighties Madonna I said. She couldn’t remember. Okay then, how about Billy Idol but not as short and masculine? Besides, I been there done that. I resisted to the urge to try and convince her I really was not trying to relive my youth, just going for a cut I know works for me.

She snipped away, checking in every few steps with me. No wispys on the face, clean up around the ears, yes. Just like that. We verified bang length and as I was telling her about the Best Hairdresser I ever had (back in high school, again, not trying to relive anything I SWEAR) I realized her furrowed brow was not unsureness, but had along the way turned into a Personal Challenge for her. She was going to follow my directions and she was going to have fun with it, dangit.

Besides, when she got to the top, I had told her that aide from length here and here, she could do whatever she wanted to the top. Her eyes lit and she dug into my hair with comb and scissors as if she was competing for the title of Top Hairstylist in my mind.

Sarah had come in a couple times to see my progress and leave pithy comments. We were nearing the end. The thinning shears had come out for up top and the sculpting mud was going on. Last time I styled my hair I had two option: gel and hair spray. Sculpting mud? Okay then. Playdoh my head.

I enjoyed the fingers massaging my weary head. I enjoyed the *cough* grey *cough* hairs left on the floor, more than what was left on my head. I felt light-headed in a good way. I felt like spring.

“Wow, Mom you look younger!” I opened my eyes to Sarah’s grin. Natasha the hairdresser was triumphantly holding the mirror so I could see the back. My fuzzy vision reached for glasses and I looked in the mirrors.

“Oh,” I said, “this is *cute*!”

“It suits your personality,” she declared. I raised an eyebrow at Natasha’s reflection. “When I wasn’t talking, I was listening.”

Ahhh. And indeed it does and she did.

When she rung up my total ($13) I asked if they did tips, “Oh honey we sure do,” she replied.

“Make it fifteen then.” I’ll be back.

hair! cut! cropped!

Friday, April 25, 2008 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

A really pretty plant

Yesterday while surfing I found a link to It’s just a plant, a book for children introducing marijuana. No, not for kids to smoke, as the book explains it’s for grownups.

And here I could get into the legalization of pot (which I don’t use and never have), and compare that to a bunch of drugs that are currently legal and maybe we could have an intellectual discussion about it, but mostly?

Mostly I wanted my mom to read this and leave a comment telling the story of the Persian Fern. 😀

And then we could giggle over the WTF-ness of the book itself. Trippy man. Now my head hurts and I’m hungry.

EDIT: my mom sends in the following –

Years ago I worked with a woman whose 20 something son would not leave home. She didn’t mind as he was the last child to leave the nest and her husband had died 5 years earlier. Most of us were her son’s age, holding down full time jobs, raising husbands and children.

Not being game fully employed, her son helped around the house, or so she said. She gave him a weekly allowance, to buy cigarette and beer. Brian, higher than a kite, would drop by the office two or three times a week to get a couple of bucks. Proud Momma just thought he was a happy boy. We recognized Brian for what he was; a lazy pot head that still lived at home with mommy.

Apparently his greatest talent was his “green” thumb. She would go on and on about her Brian’s gardening ability. As there was a never ending supply of Brian stories we usually closed our ears.

However one day we all listened in, as proud momma described Brian’s newest plant. It was so exotic he had to grow it in his closet, under special lights. He even had to get the seeds from a friend but they only cost a nickel a bag. She knew because she had overheard Brian speaking with his friend, ordering a nickel bag.

She wasn’t to tell anyone because apparently as soon as they heard Brian was growing a lovely Persian Fern, everyone would want seeds too.

Each coffee break we would beg to hear how Brian’s Persian fern was thriving. Sadly one day the stories were no more, something had struck the poor plants, even though they looked so big and healthy.

All was not lost, as Brian was drying out the leaves to see if he could save some of the seeds. Proud momma wasn’t so sure it was worth all the extra time… after all the seeds only sold for a “nickel” a bag.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

I have a good ten more years of this

Last night while getting ready for bed, I yelled down the stairs trying to find Emma and tell her she had to come get ready. I was still talking as her head poked around the corner.

“What? What did you say? All I heard was ‘blah blah blah’… “

Monday, April 21, 2008 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

News from the blogosphere

I figured one way to post was to leave up my write window in a new tab while I browsed. 😀

Bloggy giveaways quarterly carnival. You know how some blogs have giveaways? Imagine if there was a huge list of all of them right now? Well, there is. Last I checked it was up to 200. Happy surfing.

And here’s some news that makes me raise one eyebrow. SixApart launches an ad network and whole pile of specialized services. Not sure how I feel about that, as they’re notoriously bad at support. The good news is the ad network is open to non-MovableType blogs. Blog Ads hasn’t been working well for me for a long while and I have other blogs to monetize. 😉

Huh. Short morning. Guess that means I should tackle the 346 emails in my inbox and whip up some replies.