Comments on Comments: Last Week in October

Yesterday's Saturday feature gets moved to today. So, no Sunday Storytime.

I didn't write yesterday for two reasons. The first, on the downside, is that my fingers become increasingly numb from the "T" portion of the "TCH" chemical cocktail. I've felt it each round, with each round being a little bit worse. This time, I finally reached the point where I wouldn't have been able to type well enough to avoid frustration.

It doesn't hurt. More like a very, very dull sense of pins and needles in my hands and especially fingers. So. That was good for a day off.

The second reason is that yesterday was Halloween. Photos and post about that coming this week, I predict. It turned out to be a terrific evening, abnormally warm for these parts. The kids, Bryan and I all had a great time.

Now, to your comments:

One Gerri Dobry posted on line and caused much confusion among my family. Mrs. Jan Dobry lived 4 doors down from us for-practically-ever and this new "Mrs. Dobry" shows up and made them think, "No. Your name is not 'Gerri.'"

No, no, no sisters. My Mrs. Dobry is my literature and history teacher from 7th and 8th grade. "History," though they called it by that abominable term, "Social Studies," because, in truth, she is the first teacher I had who took history seriously and was serious about teaching it. (And the only, I might add, until Mr. Frank Andrew Zdun strode onto the scene my Senior year of high school. "Good luck on your exams." --That was for Sarah and Suzanne. . . )

Yes, yes, so Mrs. Dobry. Also, and more importantly, the first teacher who took literature seriously and opened that window into seeing the power of writing. Maybe a lot of kids have a moment like this at age 13 or 14, but it was in her classes that I saw for certain that writing was something I loved and that I wanted to do, without really knowing much more beyond that.

Well. I could go on. Suffice it to say that the one year I found myself teaching 5-8th graders--a job I got just 2 weeks before the school year began--I sat down and thought, "Square One. How am I going to do this? . . . Well. What did Mrs. Dobry do?"

And I went from there.

And I was a kick-ass teacher.

So how cool is it that Mrs. Dobry is reading my blog??? And has been e-mailing me all along, only perhaps just recently she figured out how to post in the comments. :-)

Speaking of confusion cleared-up, from your comments, we see that some have learned that "puggle," though surely a relative somehow of something Hogwartish ?, is indeed a baby platypus, and you also all know what AWANA stands for.

It's likely I'll go to the meeting tonight, even though chemo patients on day 6 of a round should not go. But aren't you paying attention? I'm done with all that now. And I'm going. I'll just stay out of the little rooms and hand sanitize 6 different times an hour. . .

A bit of discussion about Gramma's stuffed shells. Sister #3 is coming for Round 6, and she can replicate that famous and grand dish that I love so well. Meat? Cheese? Meat and cheese? It doesn't matter. What matters is that they are awesome.

Now, Bryan is leaving the Tuesday morning of Round 6 to help his parents down in Florida. I told him, too bad he's leaving, he's going to miss the shells.

He said why can't we just freeze some for me.

I said this is Gramma's stuffed shells we're talking about. Why not just. . .just. . .freeze the Mona Lisa?

He looked at me askance.

Then Leslie said I was a terrible girl and of course she'd make them while Bryan was here and of course she'd make extra to freeze for later.

Sheesh. You'd think the guy had cancer.

Ah, well, all the same to me. I'll be eating very well that whole week, regardless.

Some comments via the blog and e-mail regarding my conversation about the prettiness quotient. Sounds as though I'm not crazy, which is a relief. A toast to our mutual beauty, ladies!

And dear Helen suggests that I re-visit the topic at age 60. By that time, I plan to be on a completely different page that the mainstream. Old ladies who wear purple will seem normal compared to where I plan to head. . .

Finally, Mom notes that we Ponce's were romping around in a pumpkin patch full of snow, and yet not wearing full-on snow gear. Yep. It's the sun. So warm here.

A snowstorm this week, for instance. Schools were delayed on Monday, and closed on Wednesday and Thursday. By Friday, it was mid-40's and on Saturday, high 50's, all the snow and ice melted, and the kids trick-or-treated with just sweatshirts under their costumes.

Here is the thing I love about Colorado. Well. One of the things: The sun will come out tomorrow, or soon after.

The bleakest storm gets melted away.

Even if it doesn't melt, the wind stops blowing and you can play in it because the sun is so strong, it warms right through the cold air.

Did you know that Scripture calls Jesus The Morning Star--e.g. the sun? With 2 weeks remaining before the last round, that is an image I can bank on.