Packing

We're in the middle of packing. What I will miss when we leave:

~ the dishwasher
~ a carport next to the house

What I'm looking forward to:

~ two balconies (!!!)
~ a smaller house to clean

Anyway, hopefully it's a good move.

Also, I love the fact that "I Want to Marry "Harry"" exists.

A Random Assortment

~ This study shows that students learn less when taking notes on a laptop than in a a notebook. (Funnily enough, the article seems to imply that it would be impossible to convince students not to use laptops in class. I speak from personal experience: if you're the teacher and you prohibit them, the students won't use them.)

~ On Chinese children born outside of the one-child-per-couple policy.

~ I would totally buy and eat this ugly fruit. I love that it helps avoid waste.

~ Must get back to writing letters. It's going into my planner for first thing to do in July, when I hope I have some time to breath.

Quote

"The Christian ideal will always be a summons to overcome suspicion, habitual mistrust, fear of losing our privacy, all the defensive attitudes which today’s world imposes on us. Many try to escape from others and take refuge in the comfort of their privacy or in a small circle of close friends, renouncing the realism of the social aspect of the Gospel. For just as some people want a purely spiritual Christ, without flesh and without the cross, they also want their interpersonal relationships provided by sophisticated equipment, by screens and systems which can be turned on and off on command. Meanwhile, the Gospel tells us constantly to run the risk of a face-to-face encounter with others, with their physical presence which challenges us, with their pain and their pleas, with their joy which infects us in our close and continuous interaction. True faith in the incarnate Son of God is inseparable from self-giving, from membership in the community, from service, from reconciliation with others. The Son of God, by becoming flesh, summoned us to the revolution of tenderness."

--Evangelii Gaudium

Dealcoholized Wine

Since I have a little experience now, I thought I'd write a review to help my memory and for posterity. First off: dealcoholized wine is real live wine that they take the alcohol out of, and then add water and/or grape juice back into.

I really miss having a glass of wine during pregnancy, which has driven me to the rather un-frugal position of paying real money for not-real wine. Fre costs about 7 dollars a bottle (for the record, that's twice the price of TJ's two-buck chuck, which Francisco's still drinking left-over from our wedding, and which tastes better than Fre). It's basically undrinkable in its red form. (It says on the label that it's 20-30 percent juice.) I mean, it is called "Red Blend," which maybe should have made me suspicious from the start.

Fre in the pink form is drinkable (it is similarly about 20-30 percent juice). It doesn't taste like wine, exactly, but rather a wine/grape juice mix that isn't that bad. But it's nothing to write home about, either, especially for the price.

Pink Ariel is what Mrs. Sayers mailed me some time ago. It's the best of the three de-alcoholized wines I've had by far (it's about 5 percent juice). It doesn't exactly taste like wine, but it's pretty darn close. The problem is, while it does seem to be sold in stores in some places, it isn't clear to me that it's sold in stores in the Philadelphia area, so you have to pay for shipping. But it is worth that.

A Diary of Pregnancy.10

Today was not a good pregnancy day. So to avoid focusing on that, I'd rather tell you about something I have, surprisingly, enjoyed: buying all new (to me) clothes. I don't like shopping, so I only do it when I really need to. Obviously, this is one of those times.

I've actually only bought four items of clothing new. The rest are from thrift stores in the area and my husband's closet (I'm quite addicted to Salvation Army's half-priced day, but there are also some really frou-frou thrift stores in my area).

I've decided not to be picky--I just buy most everything maternity in the thrift stores that are in nice shape and in my size. It's really expanding my style sense.

Quote

"Faith always remains something of a cross; it retains a certain obscurity which does not detract from the firmness of its assent. Some things are understood and appreciated only from the standpoint of this assent, which is a sister to love, beyond the range of clear reasons and arguments."

--Evangelii Gaudium

Nebraska and The Lunchbox

I've seen two delightful and fairly upbeat movies lately. The first is Nebraska. It's about an older father (left), with dementia who is convinced that he won a million dollars through a sweepstakes letter that he got in the mail, and his son (right) who knows he didn't, but finally gives in and drives him to Nebraska to try to get the money anyway. The father spent much of his life, and his son's childhood, drinking too much, so the son sees this as an opportunity to learn about his father. En route, they stop in the town that the father grew up in. It's funny, it's poignant, and the trip helps father and son understand each other.

The second is The Lunchbox, which Cardigan suggested.

The website teases: "Mumbai's Dabbawallah's are a community of 5000 Dabba (lunchbox) deliverymen. Harvard University analyzed their delivery system and concluded that just one in a million lunchboxes is ever delivered to the wrong address. This film is the story of that one lunchbox."

Really, the film is about getting to the right place on the wrong train--it's about human errors and the relationships that can result.

Ila is trying to regain her husband's affection through her cooking, sending him fancy lunches everyday (a Like Water for Chocolate-esque idea, but without the magical realism). The lunches accidentally go to Saajan, an accountant about to retire. His wife has died; he's lonely; and he's very stuck in his ways. They strike up a relationship through letters. (And I'm a sucker for relationships through letters.) The film is about love and sacrifice and courage. The only thing to complain about is the ending.

Commencement

This is the first time I've been required to attend a graduation ceremony as a faculty member. So I broke out my new doctoral robes (I got the cheapest version, which still isn't that cheap). Thankfully, being pregnant poses no problem for fitting into graduation gear. On the other hand, it poses tons of problems for boiling under a big, thick gown for two hours, while intermittently sitting and standing. Thankfully, one of my colleagues brought snacks, so I was well-fed during.

On the topic of graduations, I appreciated this article, "Dear Class of 2014: Thanks for Not Disinviting Me." This whole protesting-every-possible-commencement-speaker thing is boring: it means that the only way to emerge unscathed is if you've never done anything controversial. It means that the only commencement speakers left are fairly unknown, unobjectionable people. It also just reminds me that the mob loves to get briefly incensed about things (the recent phenomenon that I find most worrisome). (I love that the replacement Haverford speaker gave the students heck for protesting the first speaker away.)

(Since I'm linking to things, who knew that students work for tuition at the College of the Ozarks. Interesting. I'd love to visit.)

Also, something I discovered at graduation: there is an interesting part of the alma mater:

When the last big game is over
And the last roll call is heard 
When the oldest pedagogue
Has had the final word

I was surprised about the use of "pedagogue"; Francisco said they are just trying to be poetic, but "pedagogue" today definitely has negative connotations. Here's Merriam-Webster:

 teacher, schoolmaster; especially :  a dull, formal, or pedantic teacher

Variants of PEDAGOGUE

ped·a·gogue also ped·a·gog 

Examples of PEDAGOGUE

1. a pedagogue whose classroom lessons consisted entirely of reading directly from the textbook in a monotone

Maybe in 1930, when the alma mater was written, it had a slightly different meaning?

Sharknado

This goes in the so-bad-it's-good category. A hurricane/tornado full of sharks swamps LA. I've never heard Francisco laugh so hard. 

A Random Assortment

~ From Hopkins: Books My Mother Gave Me.

~ Am I the last to know that the Fug Girls are working on what looks like it will be a must-read in such a corny way:

Creators of GoFugYourself.com Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan’s first adult novel THE ROYAL WE, about a young American woman who spends a semester abroad in England and falls in love with the man of her dreams — who happens to be the future King of England, a tale loosely inspired by the real-life courtship and marriage of Kate Middleton and Prince William, to Sara Weiss at Grand Central, by Brettne Bloom at Kneerim, Williams & Bloom (NA). Foreign rights: Danny Baror and Heather Baror; Dramatic Rights: Joe Veltre at Gersh.

 (In just the way that this terrible book was our favorite book in high school and Stearns and I made all our friends read it:

t’s 1964 and the young American Katie Hughes anticipates finding knowledge - and perhaps love - at Oxford University. She discovers possibilities in David MacKenzie, a young lecturer who carries on the legacy of his friend and mentor C.S. Lewis.But conflict also arises when she catches the eye of the dashing Lord Stuart Deverux. Kate’s heart is torn between the two men, and her convictions are challenged as her vulnerability draws her to a rendezvous she may regret.

)

~ Bill Cunningham's look at the Met Ball is the most charming (as always).

~ This article is the most ridiculous that I think I've ever read. Only in Philly.

~ Drew Faust on the Black Mass:

I plan to attend a Eucharistic Holy Hour and Benediction at St. Paul's Church on our campus on Monday evening in order to join others in reaffirming our respect for the Catholic faith at Harvard and to demonstrate that the most powerful response to offensive speech is not censorship, but reasoned discourse and robust dissent.

This Weekend

We visited Gloria Dei (Old Swede's) church in Philadelphia, the oldest church in Pennsylvania, in use since 1700!

My favorite part is two ships hanging from the ceiling, models of the ships that the Swedish people who founded the church came over to America on.

Not my photos

Here it is from the outside:

I also love the stained glass, which is from the 1850's, and the decorative swirls, which are very Philly:

Also this weekend, we stopped by one of my favorite stores in Philly, Jules Goldman Books and Antiques. It's a charming pile of prints and art and old books. And the icing on the cake--Barbara Blau Collectables, an antique shop, is in the back.

Phatso's Bakery

On the way out to Winterthur, we stopped at a donut store we've been wanting to visit, Phatso's Bakery. Sadly, there are no mom and pop donut shops where we live, especially since donuts are one of Francisco's favorite things. So we try to stop off when we can.

This shop is in Chester, which I've never visited, and let's just say, the town is nothing to write home about.

I didn't take any pictures, so these are all just from the internet.

The shop, however, is. We arrived at noon and all the donuts were sold out--there were just massive empty display cases and a few workers standing around. The owner was outside, though--when he saw us, he asked if it was our first time there; when we told him it was, he instructed some of the employees to make up a couple of cream-filled and jelly-filled donuts for us. They quickly made some in the back and gave five to us for no charge.

The owner was clearly enthusiastic about his shop and his product--he was very generous and went out of his way for us. And the donuts were delicious--both Francisco and I were covered with powdered sugar. I would certainly return, although much earlier in the morning.

Winterthur

We also toured Winterthur, the house. I'm not sure it was worth it--there were loads of visitors and we had to wait in line for nearly an hour for a tour that wasn't that long. (And the line was pretty poorly organized--every time a tour bus arrived all the people on it got to go straight to the front of the line, so you never knew how long the line was really going to take. I think that the house was over-capacity this particular weekend, but timed entrance tickets could go a long way to solving the problem.) At least I didn't pay too much for our tickets: you get two free tickets when you buy something from the museum store online.

Sadly, the house was covered in scaffolding (they're replacing the windows), so I couldn't get a good picture from the outside, but the curly decoration around the windows reminded me of Bartram's house.

Some things I liked in the house: these crazy intricate mirror decorations.

This half-finished Benjamin West painting of the Treaty of Paris (I guess the British side refused to pose).

This two-story circular staircase.

The conservatory, with its giant eagle (the whole place was filled with eagles).

This drop-leaf table with a triangular leaf (I've never seen anything like it, and I want one).

Winterthur Gardens.2

Bluebells!

Photo credit: Francisco

The prettiest spot in the gardens.

Photo credit: Francisco

Winterthur Gardens

Francisco and I visited Winterthur, a Du Pont Estate in Delaware, which has lovely gardens. It was a bit early (I think the azaleas are coming out next week), but the flowering trees and bushes were lovely, as were some early flowers.

There are a dozen kind of daffodils (narcissus?).

Lilacs are my favorite.

The End of the Semester

This sort of thing makes it all worth it:

(From a student)

"I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for opening my mind to new perspectives and changing the way I think. I wish you the best with your baby boy and hope that we can keep in touch..."

And then there was the surprise baby shower on the last day of classes, complete with yellow, pink and blue cupcakes and Baby Leopard's first little outfit.

It was thrown by the students that I had for two semesters in a row; summer is bittersweet. (I mean, mostly sweet, but I'll sure miss these kids.)

A Diary of Pregnancy.9

20 weeks:

~ Feeling the baby move is the best thing ever. It's just sublimely unbelievable--yes, you do in fact have a small person growing inside of you, and he's chillin' out, doing somersaults (although I'm still a bit worried that he's bored in there). (Plus, it's always a relief to know he's alive, and that I haven't accidentally killed him by laying on my back in my sleep--the internet is a really worrisome place sometimes.) It's nice to feel him growing and getting bigger and stronger even in his movements.

It's sounds cliche (well, it is cliche), but whenever he kicks (well, whenever I'm not in the middle of teaching a class and can reflect on what's happening), I'm just blown away by the miracle of life. It's really amazing; it makes me want to stop everything I'm doing and pat my belly. Seriously, I get annoyed with anything that stops me from paying complete attention to the kicks and backflips.

Every time I tell Francisco that the little one is active, he says, "I probably still can't feel him yet, right?" But we still try--I fetch Francisco and he sits there with his hand on my belly, feeling my the beats of my heart through my veins, and maybe occasionally a little flicker of movement.

~ Got dizzy and warm and felt like I was going to pass out in the Salvation Army thrift store (after waiting in a long, long) line. Thankfully the woman checking me out was kind and brought me a cup of water. Also, got lots of cheap maternity clothes!

21 1/2 weeks:

~ The ultrasound: That was not as great as I anticipated: First of all, I haven't been allowed to lay on my back since 14 or 15 weeks. For the ultrasound, they lay you flat on your back for 45 minutes. That just doesn't seem right. Also: turns out laying on my back is not that comfortable anymore. About 20 minutes in I started to get hot and dizzy and had to have a break for a snack (the baby was laying on a big vein and cutting off my circulation).

It was amazingly depersonalized--it's as if a robot was giving me the ultrasound and couldn't tell me anything until the doctor looks at the pictures and video and gives a report to my midwife. It wasn't that bad, but close.

We couldn't see most of the ultrasound as the tech measured and photographed. But she did give us a little tour, as she put it. She showed us the distinguishing male characteristic from several angles. She showed us the baby's arm moving--he was making and then relaxing a fist. You could even see his little fingers. She showed us the baby open and close his mouth like a little robotic fish (they basically drink and pee amniotic fluid all the time). We could see the baby's heart beating in his chest. He looked relatively like a normal baby. (We learned the next week that everything looks "unremarkable," as they put it, which is code for good, I think.) It's funny, but not being able to see it but feeling it kick all the time, I wasn't at all sure that it would look like other peoples' babies. But he seemed to have limbs, a head, a heart, all the basic things. (I think I'm an expect-extreme-situations kind of person.)

I was disappointed that it was a boy. I mean, I knew that it was most likely going to be a boy, but I was hoping against hope that it would be a little girl that I could dress up in frilly dresses with smocking. Alas.

~ Adding insult to injury to a degree unbearable, as Anne of Green Gables says, one of my co-workers gave me a bag of little girl clothes (before we knew the sex, but I didn't pick it up until after we knew). Sigh.

~ Now that Francisco knows it's a boy, he's obsessed with me eating plenty of meat!

~ I enjoy eating sugar or (a little!) caffeine and then feeling the baby jump right after. That's his best trick right now. Although sometimes when I rub my belly, he kicks me in response. Also a decent trick.

~ Today Francisco held his tablet, which was playing classical music, up to my belly (while grinning). He's beginning our son's musical education early.

Manayunk

It's been ages since I walked around and took pictures. Last weekend the weather was good and Francisco and I hung out in one of our favorite neighborhoods.

Complete with dinner that night at Deke's bbq, a great laid-back place that's basically a garage with the door left open, with picnic tables and a grill going outside. (They have a bbq buffet, which is great, given my need for lots of protein.)