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Being grounded.  This term can be interpreted in a number of different ways.  A pilot might see it as a situation where he's unable to take a plane up in the air, either because of weather, or because of his own negligence.  Emotionally, one might say that a person has a focused vision of his life.  A teenager would cringe at the term, knowing that certain privileges are being taken away. A couple of weeks ago, this term was inflicted on Glo for all of the reasons mentioned above. John and I have never "grounded" a child per se.  That term wasn't used with us as children, and we haven't used it.  However, we do occasionally ration out appropriate punishments for extended periods of time ;-) At the beginning of the last marking period, Glo had three "B+"s (with the rest of her grades being "A"s).  In my mind, this is completely unacceptable.  It may sound harsh, but my children understand this rule, and there's no discussion about...

The term "feminism" has been around as long as I have been alive.  I distinctly remember the fight women took on during the 70's:  they felt that they could do everything a man could do, and they wanted recognition for that (mostly through jobs in the workplace).  To this day, I can hear the words to the song by Peggy Lee, "I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan."  I never saw any different, and I figured everyone understood this concept. I was very fortunate, in that I was raised by two very strong, very intelligent women.  I don't even know the struggles my mother faced, applying to medical school in the mid 1970's, as a woman. From what I saw, she never let the fact that she was a woman deter her from doing anything she wanted.  As a consequence, I never thought that the fact that I was a woman would prevent me from taking advantage of any opportunity. My grandmother, who never working professionally, never backed down from anything either...

Two weeks later.... I still think of Ireland on a daily basis.  I would give my right arm to return there.  The tranquility, the fun, the friends.  However, life goes on, right? Just two weeks after we returned from Ireland, Johannah and I were scheduled to participate in a handbell festival held annually here in State College.  It's kind of the culmination of a year's work for our bell choir, and we never have an absent member. I love going to handbell choir practice.  It's one of the few times where I get to interact with people who aren't members of our church, and I have made closer friends there than I have at church!  Plus, it's nice to still be involved in something musical nowadays. Unfortunately, the more advanced choir (also sponsored by the same catholic church) isn't quite so friendly.  In fact, I am frequently asked to substitute for absent members of their choir, and it just about kills me when our director, Gail, asks me to sub i...

Neither John nor I woke up too happy on this last day.  Between his worsening cold, and the fact that he didn't sleep well (which means I didn't sleep well), we were a grumpy pair to say the least.  However, it was one of those mind-over-matter moments where we wanted to make the most of our last minutes in Ireland, so we stepped up to the plate.  In fact, after stopping at Blarney Woolen Mills for a scone for breakfast, John caught sight of yet another quirky sign and took full advantage: Phew!  Thank goodness we had an Eagle Scout close at hand! I remember back to 2004 when we made a family trip to County Clare.  I found it to be the most mystical place in Ireland.  Everything here is made of stone, because quite honestly, as the farmers plowed their fields, they didn't know what else to do with all the stones they would pull up.  Instead of bushes or fences to divide their fields, they simply built stone walls.  Why not?  In fact,...