Every 18 Year Old Boy Dreams of...

Children aren't happy with nothing to ignore,
And that's what parents were created for.
Ogden Nash, "The Parent," Happy Days, 1933

When I was 19 years old, I enrolled as a junior at Michigan State University. With two years of community college behind me, I drove myself the two and a half hours to East Lansing for summer orientation. I registered, bought my books and paid for my first quarter of tuition and living from my own bank account. All that jazz.

When school began in the fall, I lived in a dorm. A few freshman lived on my floor and come to find out, they had attended a different summer orientation. One where their parents had attended as well and spent the night in a dorm. I had to chuckle to myself. As a transfer student, that option wasn't offered to me and besides, no way in hell would my parents have done that. My mom sleeping in a bunk bed? In a dorm? With other parents? I don't think so.

I just returned from orientation at the University of Alabama with Ian. No way in hell did I sleep in a bunk bed either. Ian stayed in the dorm. I had my own hotel room. Me, myself, and I. A remote control. A bottle of wine brought from home. A cooler of fresh berries to savor. Bag of cheese puffs. Worked for me.

Yes, for those of you that have been here before, Ian's turn to road trip with mom. (New readers - my kids just love this.) Complete with AAA guidebooks. Instead of heading west as I did with Jordan driving to Flagstaff, Arizona on this road...

...we went the other way. A new part of the country to explore. Road trip - always an adventure.

As usual, took FOR EV ER to get out of Texas, but most surprised at the beauty of the Piney Woods.

The Mississippi at Vicksburg, MS

The casino over on the right. I can't believe all the casinos everywhere. My husband and I are not gamblers, so always surprises me to see how many exist and in such odd places. When I grew up, you could only gamble in Las Vegas. And Monte Carlo.

Finally we arrived at the University of Alabama. Here's a view of The Quad.

Ian's college - the football stadium conveniently located next door.

The President's home - one of the only buildings to survive the Civil War.

The library - I took this photo so Ian could read this and recognize the building while he's there. (I bet they let you inside there, too, Ian.)

After two days of "disorientation" and the up/down emotion of the reality of his decision, more familiarity with the campus gained, classes registered for and a quick peek at the future dorm room, we were ready to hit the road. Had intended to visit the Alabama or Florida beaches on the way home. Followed the oil stories and felt this wasn't the best time to take a dip in the ocean. I'm so sorry for that as I've never seen the sugar white sand beaches. Hopefully, soon...

Instead, we drove to New Orleans.
And saw the Mississippi way down the road from our previous stop. We walked a mile or more. Doesn't seem fair that New Orleans and the gulf regions affected by the hurricanes again face such devastation. Although, crowds shared the sidewalks with us and we found a great deal on a hotel in the French Quarter. A few oyster houses had no oysters to sell and some of the gumbo was missing a little of the local fare. But, we didn't care.

New Orleans - what fun!

Here's Ian talking to his dad on the phone with St. Louis Cathedral and Jackson Square in the background. I handed the phone to Ian after his Dad said, "I've never been to New Orleans," in one of those poor, woe-is-me, voices.

Yeah, and I've never been to Singapore, Malaysia, Japan, Taiwan, Seattle, or Prague. Here's a few photos I took on our walk.



I'm thinking we'll be back. Bring that husband of mine so he can say he's been here, too. Ian had his red beans and rice and I had some delicious craw fish quesadillas. Had exhaustion not permeated our minds from our two day stress fest, I would have made a fine dining reservation as Ian, the future chef, appreciates good food. But the meals we chose comforted our weary college orientation souls.

In answer to the title of this piece - What Every 18 Year Old Boy Dreams Of... A road trip with Mom, right? RIGHT! That's what you were thinking.

Wrong!

Every 18 year old boy's dream...

walking down Bourbon Street with his mother.

Go visit the south. They need us and there is much to enjoy.

At Last

Leisure tends to corrupt, and absolute leisure corrupts absolutely.

Edgar A. Shoaff

Another Milestone - Another Deep Breath

Do not follow where the path may lead. Go, instead, where there is no path and leave a trail.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

For those of you with children, or those of you who observe others with children, please know/recall/try to forget how the senior year of high school can often be one of the most difficult. Oh, sure, I remember the nights walking the floors calming a crying baby, or sticking yet another spoonful of food into their mouths. Not to mention how many diapers I changed awaiting both the day and their never ending energy to finally abate.

But as I look back, tending their appetite, cleanliness, and making yet another batch of Play-doh seemed much simpler. Defined. I didn't have to add in the deep emotion that arrives when it's time to launch them, making certain I get them to the 18year milestone. Experience the persistent worry that my husband and I have provided them with the necessary tools to create their own paths. Often, a tough mask covers my angst.

Last fall I said to my youngest son, Ian, "Get ready to not like me." Having had experience with his two brothers before him, I added. "Remember, it's all for you."

A little guilt never hurts.

"Much to accomplish this fall semester. I won't do any of it for you, but I will ride your ass until you get it all done."

Threat experience works, too.

His list:
Take SAT/ACT tests
Choose five schools to send applications
Fill out the applications
Write the required essays
Create a resume for college aps
Get References
Write thank yous
Pass high school.

I have to be honest. Maintaining the necessary vigor to get through this with the third child makes me glad I didn't have more. I doubt I could muster the energy or strength to get through another one, nor provide their just deserve.

But no excuse for not carrying the whip for Ian.

Alas, the year sped by. The whip, lost somewhere in the house, and there we were, Graduation Day.

Oldest brother and new sister-in-law joined the party.

A tired, relieved mom.

Two days of cooking for the party and last time the Orange and Black (school colors) tablecloths will come out except for Halloween.

Pies, instead of a cake. Rhubarb, Blueberry Rhubarb, Buttermilk, Apple, and a Blueberry Crisp.

How can this time have gone by so quickly?

And the next stop on his life trail?

Roll Tide.
His leaving my home in the fall already causing my heart to seize up, but that's a story for another day much too soon.

WOW - Blogger of Note

I met a lot of people in Europe. I even encountered myself.

James Baldwin

Welcome to Midlife Jobhunter. A thank you to my long-time blog friends, Pam and Sandy at Words of Wisdom, otherwise known as WOW, for featuring me as a Blogger of Note on their fine venture. WOW supports writers and readers who appreciate blogs that promote thoughtful responses and insights. Hope I live up to the honor.

Midlife Jobhunter began on a five minute whim as I worked on my resume and panicked over rejoining the workforce. Oh, the camaraderie I've enjoyed while my clumsy gait meanders on this mapless ride.

The blog world hosts a vast group of hunters, just like me, complete with a myriad of road blocks and sites to view along the way. My followers know I’m a crappy housekeeper, throw a baseball much better than I braid hair, and could live in my hammock with a stack of good books. That this spring I collected a daughter-in-law (who throws one hell of a softball), a college graduate, and my last high school graduate.

They survived my miserable first job - grading high school test papers. That this year, my job wasn’t much better – substitute teaching. That I’ve discovered this midlife jobhunting is about much more than the receipt of a lousy paycheck. It is, instead, a search for self. A search for purpose. A discovery and gathering of the shavings that hold us together.

I get to choose three past posts to help you get better acquainted. How difficult this has been. What do I want someone new to know about me? Probably best to get rid of one of my worst attributes right off the bat.

Circling the Stupid

Ode to the One I Didn't Hire

The Art of My Essays

Join the ride and Happy Trails.

Flying Studs

It is in his pleasure that a man really lives; it is from his leisure that he constructs the true fabric of self.

Agnes Repplie

For the past week, I've been in hibernation at the cabin. Lying dormant, holed up, withdrawn, retreating. Cocooning in my hammock.

School's out. No teaching to be had. A brief respite before the last two giant activities of the spring - freshman disorientation at my youngest's university and an Eagle Scout Court of Honor. I'm living the life of a vacationer with a few putterings along the way. Hiding in my hammock with five library books and a beer. Occasionally rising to put in another load of laundry or wash up dishes. Sweep the floor. Water a plant. Grab another drink or a handful of strawberries before retreating back to my cloistered abode.

How lucky I feel. But the week hasn't passed without excitement. Our Internet has been sporadic at best, so much easier to read without the distraction of the computer. I had thought it might be a week to catch up with everyone, but, alas, my emails either take forever to send or don't go at all. Library books prevailed.

Perfect Summer Reading for a someone who hasn't had a brain that might concentrate on words on the page for many, many months. Here's my accomplished list for the week.

Jane Green - To Have and to Hold
The condition - Jennifer Haigh
The Story Sisters - Alice Hoffman
The Cottagers - Marshall N. Klimasewiski
Songs Without Words - Ann Packer

My youngest son joined me most of the week. We ate frozen pizzas and he made spaghetti one night. Green chili macaroni and cheese another. Middle son came home on his day off from his new job 3 hours away. And one morning, my oldest, now married son showed as well. He's working out this way two days a week. Came by to use the bathroom and invite me to lunch. How fun was that - lunch at the Bluebonnet Cafe with all three of my sons. Can't tell you when the last time that happened.

But, life does have it exigencies as well. Wednesday night I sat reading on the front porch as a cold front blew in. The wind changed direction and gathered speed. My hanging plants rocked back and forth, then began to swirl. The sky filled with ominous shades of blue and those marshmallow-like clouds you imagine reaching up and plucking.

I gathered the chairs and took them inside, the wind gaining in force with each re-entry to the porch. I picked up the hanging plants and as I came around to the breezeway of the porch, the wind's power almost knocked me over. I recalled Auntie Em, hand on forehead, screaming for Dorothy.

Safe in my big blue reading chair looking out over the lake, my chair began to shake. The entire cabin shook. Then, flying at my window was the roof of the neighbor's dock. Smashed into the railing on our porch. Rattled the crap out of me.

The rain arrived, and the thunder, and my son and I watched the remainder of the neighbors roof flap in the storm, wondering if that, too, might join our yard. As the storm subsided, the neighbor rushed over. We viewed the damage, thankful no one was hurt.


Yes, that is a two by four slammed into the wood. The wind, an unforgiving force at times.

The missing roof section.

The storm passed and this most beautiful sunset took its place.

Had to leave the stud in the wall for a few days - at least until my husband, my stud, arrived to see it. And all the neighbors who came down for the weekend had a chance for a view. Always something to fix at the lake.

Now, two New Yorkers left to catch up on and then I'm back to my bookclub selection of the month - The Speckled Monster - A Historical Tale of Battling Smallpox. Fun summer reading. (Searching my shelf for smut.)

Tomorrow, back to reality and all those piles of paperwork requiring my attention. I stuffed them all out of sight before the graduation party. I wonder where?

Pondering Lost - Assistance Welcome

Some people get lost in thought because it's such unfamiliar territory.

G. Behn

I don't watch much TV. My favorites? Jeopardy, The Daily Show, Deadliest Catch, and Lost. Every Tuesday night since Lost returned to the TV screen in January, I've missed the show. Baseball games. My youngest son, Ian, and I have kept watch on www.abc.com. Baseball's now over. Last Sunday night, I saw the finale in prime time. I'm still thinking about it.

What was that all about? Any enlightenment welcome.

Were the passengers all killed in the original plane crash - the plane found filled with all dead in the ocean far from the island a true scenario?

Was this island a purgatory "the survivors" endured until death?

Why were women not able to have babies on island? No new life because everyone was dead? Except the Dharma people weren't dead, were they? What was the point of them, anyway?

Who are the rest of the lost souls, like Michael, that whisper in the forest.

With the ending focusing on the characters, does it seem like the island's mysteries were immaterial to the story?


How come nobody ever came across that cave with the light? And the Man in Black couldn't ever find it again? If it were just beyond the bamboo?

Did life go on at the island with Hurley and Ben in charge after Jack died?

Desmond? How did he fit in there?

Was the gathering at the end just a gathering for Jack's demise? That the rest all lived their own lives and died at different times? Had Ben not died yet and that's why he sat outside?

That it has provoked such thought suggests that our invested time was a worthwhile venture. The ending focused on the characters, which is also what makes a good book. The scenery and the workings of the island used as the vehicle to aid the characters in their search?

That these lost, troubled souls gathered to put their lives together and all found their own peace.

Aside from my questioning, I enjoyed it. Did you?

Now, back to my date with my vacuum.

Before the Next Party, I Putter

One of the most delightful things about a garden is the anticipation it provides.

W.E. Johns, The Passing Show

We're having a party on Saturday night. Imagine that - the Andersons having a party. After all, it has been about two weeks since the last one.

This next event is a high school graduation party. Held in honor of the third and last kid graduating from high school, this party is a no brainer. I can do this one with my hands tied behind my back. With the Eagle Scout Court of Honor pushed to the end of the month, this day began without a feeling of rush. I embraced that. I have accomplished nothing.

Have puttered the day away. Put my pretty silver shoes from the wedding into their box and onto the shelf in the closet. I unpacked my suitcase from the college graduation and buried it in another closet. Emptied the bag in the living room that held the wrapping paper from the 18 year old's birthday presents. Watered the new flowers I've yet to plant.



The school year is winding down so no teaching today. I could drive to the YMCA and swim 3/4 a mile, but can't muster that much effort today. I'm enjoying the quiet while anticipating a rousing houseful on Saturday night.

I have brushed my teeth, read 50 pages in a library book, ate breakfast, put some handwash items in the washer. Excited to discover I won the Peterson's Field Guide to Birds from Susan at City Girl Moves to Oz Land.

Now I think I need a nap while I ponder last night's Lost finale.

Not only have I read two books in the past few days (remember my lack of concentration for reading), I also took a look around my yard. Stopped to smell the flowers, as they say.

Remember my tomato plant wars of past years?

Look what I have growing on my five plants. I did have to squish a few green tomato worms, so I'm not home free. But, oh, my. How proud of myself, I am.

Yes, I do need to add weeding to my list of things to do - tomorrow.

My Job is Done

Graduation day is tough for adults. They go to the ceremony as parents. They come home as contemporaries. After twenty-two years of child-raising, they are unemployed.

Erma Bombeck

Tomorrow, my middle son, Jordan, will move to a new town and begin his new job. When he returns home, he will have his own home, now only arriving at mine as a visitor. I'm trying not to think about all that means, instead choosing to express my confidence for his success in the world. A poker face, laden on the inside with wonder at how quickly the time of raising him passed.

All along I felt my job was to teach my children independence. My heart holds a two-faced reaction to the accomplishment of that goal. One of pride for their success and one of sorrow that they no longer need me like they once did. Selfish, perhaps. I admit it.

Last weekend we had the distinct pleasure of attending Jordan's college graduation from Northern Arizona University. Very proud of him. Jordan didn't talk until he was 4 and didn't read until 3rd grade. Teachers said he'd never do well in school. Perhaps I should mail them a copy of his Bachelor of Science degree in Biology.

Now he moves to another town to begin his career in Wildlife Management. Employed. Self-sufficient. Off our payroll.

And the best part? Only three hours away instead of 17.

He had planned on antlers for his mortarboard, but came up with this instead. He wanted it to read "My Job Here is Done", but ran out of room for the "here" part. My husband -- glad to hear he knew more work lies ahead. His job at college is done, but he embarks on the world and a career working with wildlife, as he hoped. What fun to come as that path evolves.

I am having such trouble with this new camera, but I thought this looked cool.

Proud parents and grandparents.

Such fun we had in Flagstaff, Arizona. Great town. Beautiful location. Enjoyed our time with Jordan and his friends. We stayed at this funky, old hotel. I'm not sure my in-laws enjoyed it as much as my husband and me.

Definitely had cocktails in the lounge.
Proud and happy Dad.

Had an incredible meal to celebrate Jordan's success. With beautiful food - like this dish. Grilled leg of lamb, Mole Style Lamb Chilaquiles, Salsa Roja, and Queso Seco. Incredible. I wish my kids could graduate every day.

Now, on to the high school graduation of my youngest. I can begin grieving for that son who leaves for college in the fall. However, he'll only be a mere 12 hours away. Much easier for me as that is only a day's drive, instead of two.

As for Jordan, like his mortarboard said, my job is done. I think (I know better.)

Jordan,

May you always have walls for the winds,
a roof for the rain, tea beside the fire,
laughter to cheer you, those you love near you,
and all your heart might desire.
Irish Blessing

I Give

A woman my age is not supposed to be attractive or sexually appealing. I just get kinda tired of that.

Kathleen Turner

Okay, I give. Watched Facebook for photos posted of my son and me dancing at his wedding. Haven't found one yet that flatters me, so figure, perhaps I'm just not in a flatter-available posture these days.

But, off to the next adventure. Middle son's college graduation. I can only hope that after a year or more of listening to me, you will understand that I don't seem to live up to my expectations in these photos.

The song choice? The Beatles - In My Life.
Did we have fun? You Betcha Baby.
(And the site where I would now play that song while you look at the photos? Can't find it. Tired, I guess.)

Thank you, Busy Traveler, for the photos.

The proud mom and dad of the groom, awaiting the bride. We so love her.

The family.

The Groom's Cake - the Fraternity House, less the beer cans. Notice the old red photo in the background. Bob and me, 1978. I recently learned that the reason all our photos from the 70's turned red is because of the paper used. You can't imagine all the fun comments from my son's friends on his dad's long hair.
A friend described the picture tonight at dinner - the hippie and the Amish girl. Oh, who said compatibility comes from sameness? Nowadays, the roles seem reversed.

As some of you may know, my mom, the Old?Who?Me? lady suffered a severe fall at the lake. I'm happy to report she is home just today, safely, and recovering.

I have so many great photos. Fodder for the next year. I remember She Writes, who posted one post of her son's wedding, equipped with a long series of photos. I plan to do that in one swoop, but I never seem to do what I plan. Is that a midlife prerogative?

When I get all the pictures, I say. So far behind in my blogging. I promise to catch up soon. Onward.