Bits of Bullets

* In ten more posts, I will have 400--I"m thinking about having a Random Stash Dive contest...something like, "If you can guess how many boxes I have of GOOD yarn (my acryllic doesn't count!) I'll dive into a box and produce a random couple of skeins of fibery goodness!"

* Ladybug has the eye-goop. Two days of anti-biotics, and she still looks like a mole in the mornings...I feel so bad for her--she's not very happy at the moment, and after two days at home, I had to send her to day care. Bummer.

* 1/3 of my 6th period left yesterday--there was a meeting for continuation school that they were obligated to attend. It didn't matter--the climate of the other 2/3s of the class is so damaged that after 10 minutes of trying to get their attention, I gave up, gave them their assignment, and let them piss away their time while I entered grades. *mutter*

* I had a small moment of triumph--today, 4 kids would NOT shut up during a movie. Instead of sending them out, I got my knitting and sat down. On the desk of the kid in the center. *sweet*!!!

* The Cave Troll spent the weekend chewing on a the rope of one of our cat toys...the result is a rope-burn coming out of the corners of his mouth--*snork* He looks like the Joker from Batman!!!

* (We're watching Pride and Prejudice right now--Colin Firth, Mreowr! And my 3rd period is actually getting into it!!!! Yeeehaaa!)

* The Raven--would you believe that Poe actually wrote lines 85-90 of this poem first? Brilliance is frequently odd and syncopated to watch, isn't it? I love it!

* In a stunning bid for independence, yesterday, after I got home and took off my shoes, I was standing in the kitchen being inundated with questions by the older kids when Ladybug threw a shoe at me. "Here, mama--catch!" And then she threw another. "Put them on!" I did. (They were loafers.) Then she grabbed my hand, hauled me to the door, said "Go for a walk!" And proceeded to trot around the block in the chill wind with the eagerness of a scottie dog. Then we got home and she sat on me for an hour, totally tuckered out. Adorable little shit, ain't she?

* And here, let it be known, that Big T, the master of the unfunny joke, and hapless follower of all things political with no real comprehension (he watches the Daily Show, well, daily, and REALLY wants to be John Stewart when he grows up. *sigh*) has finally made a funny political joke. I won't tell you what it is--it won't be that funny to you, but the fact that it was a little funny to me is, without a doubt, a breakthrough.

* And, really, I could go on like this for days. I won't, but I will finish by saying the following: I posted yesterday that I had fingering weight yarn that needed to be untangled, and two of you popped immediately up to offer your services. (I"m taking you both up on it.) As I told Mate yesterday as I was reading my comments, I hang with a sick bunch of people on the internet. Goddess, I loves you all:-)

Sorting the Tangled Skein

A bunch of random stuff today--let's start with the title.

I've managed to wreck three skeins of sock yarn this weekend. The first one was my fault--it was tricksy, splitsy stuff to begin with, and when I didn't like the way the toes were working, I tried to frog it in the middle of the kids doing gymnastics. This is a bad move-- there is only a finite amount of time Ladybug can do gymnastics before breaking line to come and see if mom has taken this 45 minutes to haul ass for Jamaica or something, and sure enough, she came up to me in a hugging frenzy in the middle of frogging two skeins at the same time. The resultant mess is not epic, but it is annoying, and it makes the second mess just a little more tragic. I wasn't really fond of that first mess of yarn--but the yarn I asked Chicken to wind for me...THAT was a skein of Schaeffer's Anne, in the color scheme Hermione, and although I've been trying to get on Sock Yarn Only all day, their server is down, and the tangle that is my ALL TIME FAVORITE DISCONTINUED COLOR of Anne is sitting in a plastic bag, breaking my heart. Roxie, darling, if you're listening, I'll take you up on your offer now. My pride is broken. I love this color and I don't want to thrash it, or diminish my project hopes because it got tangled and I don't have time without cats or kids to unmess it.

*whew* That was a lot more emotional than I thought it would be. I'm glad I got it off my chest.

Anyway, that being said...

I also went to the dentist today--along with about four other errands, like picking up books from the post office from a friend (who may or may not stalk the blog--Mary, darlin', if you're out there, I got the books-e-chat you later!) getting Ladybug her pink-eye ointment (ICK), getting the Cave Troll's dentistry stuff signed (they were CLOSED), picking up lunch for Mate, who stayed home with the kids since pinkeye was involved, and buying milk because with this many kids, they don't even have to open the refrigerator to go through a gallon. It just osmoses through the steel door, the air, and their pores, and two minutes after you get home from the store, voila, no fucking milk.

The dentist office--now that was a trip. I am a big fat baby when it comes to my teeth--as I told my dentist, I have melodramatic teeth, and he agreed completely. So imagine my surprise when the assistant comes up to me and says, "I'm just gonna pop off your temporary now," when I had no anaesthetic whatsoever. I was thinking, "Geez, lady, a one night stand would at least kiss me first!!" I didn't say it, of course, but I know my eyes got big, and then the pain followed, along with the whining and whimpering and, as a whole, it sucks. I never dwell upon the suckage when I go to the dentist, I just let it surprise me when I get there, and I've got to tell you, I was in for a whole lot of nasty surprise before I left today. And then it went away. I guess that's the good thing about not putting a humongulous needle in your soft gum tissue before doing something minor, but during the visit, I was an unhappy little knitter, that's for certain. (They love to watch me knit there...it's cool. I'm a fiber rockstar at the dentist office, when you all know that I'm a a garage band player at best on the blog:-)

And then I came home and took a nap. A looooong nap. Because you know what? Sometimes a day off is worse than going to work!!!

The T-Shirt is There for Your Benefit

First of all, did you all notice Ilona Andrews (author of Magic Bites and Magic Burns) commenting on one of my earlier entries? I was so excited, I almost plotzed. Chicken was so excited, she forgave me for waking her up early on a Saturday to tell her about it. There was excitement all around.

And second of all, this entire post is dedicated to that one picture. Because only a four year old boy could fall asleep like that. And the picture of Ladybug, sitting on her dresser where she's not supposed to be, in her La La La outfit? That's just sweet, sweet icing. Now everybody go eat some protein or my blog will give you sugar shock!

A Tale of Two Y-Chromosomes

The Cave Troll and Ladybug went to the doctor's yesterday for their regular check-ups (and shots) and now I'm being punished.

Okay, let me back up.

To start with, the Cave Troll who has been acting punky enough that I've taken his temperature at least once a day and gotten nothing on the results, apparently had a mild ear infection--for over a week. I'm very angry over this--I mean, really--fucking thermometer--the NERVE!!!

Anyway, back to me being punished.

I got home from work and had the following conversation with my husband, who was the one who took the kids in to the doctors.

Mate: Yeah, we went to MacDonalds, and they got shots--he got a lot of shots, he's so good, he didn't cry at all. She barely whined. All she wanted to do was see what he was doing. She kept her hands to herself, and she just leaned in and watched as he got his vision test...Did you see the cars crash for the hearing test, Cave Troll? Was that neat?

Cave Troll: We went to Mac-don-alds, and I climbed. And Ladybug climbed. And we played and I got nuggets. And I need medicine.

Mate: Oh yeah, he has an ear infection--I know you've been taking his temperature forever, and it turns out he's had it for a week--his ear vibration flatlined, and when he didn't raise his hand to his ear quick enough the cars crashed.

Cave Troll: And the cars CRASHED. BOOM! And I told them, and they stopped it and they went boom! And I got a shot, and it hurt!

Mate: And the (he checks the house to make sure the older kids aren't listening) Q-U-A-C-K said that he needs to be tested for speech impairment.

Me: Why?

Mate: Well, she asked me if he told stories, and I said "No."

Cave Troll: And I got stickers, and I looked at things, and I had chocolate milk...

Me: Are you shitting me?

Mate: You know I don't like to talk!

Me: You are shitting me.

Cave Troll: And I climbed...and then we took a nap.


You have GOT to be shitting me.

And on the school front--the lab tech finally came and took the useless computers out of my room. I had told my students that these computers were VIRGINS and were to remain UNTOUCHED. After that my 5th period and I had a continual conversation as to the state of technological virginity that the computers were in.

"Have they been violated Ms. Lane?"

"Nah...they've just been fiddled with."

"Are they still virgins Ms. Lane?"

"Well nothing's been inserted into their hard drives!"

So, finally, the 'girls' were gone.

"Where'd they go, Ms. Lane?"

"Well, it was a computer lab--I guess it was like a technology brothel..."

"And when they get too old to use they'll go to the old Ho's home?"

Absolutely. So I guess, now, instead of a computer recycling plant, we'll call it the Old Hoe's Home for Technology.

Good Night everybody!!!

Can't talk, gotta write... (and knit...)

I know other people have talked about how sometimes going through a low project phase...I've done that too--nothing really appeals to you? YOu can't decide on a color? Well, I'm in sort of the OPPOSITE of that stage...I want to cast on EVERYTHING, and then I want to work on it until it's DONE, GLORIOUSLY DONE, DONE DONE...

The sport-weight, toe-up sock, two at a time, on circular needles is my particular passion... I just finished a pair of these--it seemed like an excellent way of using the pretty Regia (psycho-kitty's favorite brand) that I bought to replace the first two balls that he destroyed. I'd made Ladybug a pair of socks from it, and wanted to use it all up (since I had, in fact, PURCHASED IT TWICE) and Chicken loved the pair so much (I had actually made for the small-footed Auntie Wendy) that she sort of commandeered them this morning. It helped when I told her that, given psycho-kitty's propensities, he'd probably make long sweet lurve to her feet when she wore them. Now I can go find Ladybug's pair, and they can have feet that match!!!

But I have other stuff on the needles too, and it's all close to completion--or really quick anyway. My Auntie Barb got a 'tour through the project bag' for her birthday. The thing is, I had like, six projects working, and no names on any of them, and I asked her which project she wanted me to finish for her in particular... she chose the fingerless mitts in the Araucania--and as Goddess is my witness, I will take a picture of these because they are 75% done and they are really some of my best work!!! I'll be proud to give them away. I have 1 1/8 of a pair of fingerless gloves to make (in worsted) for a student, and a scarf to make for a student (I was 1/8 of the way done, but Gordy the asshole psychokitty wasted it too--tell me, I've got skeins and skeins of crap-wastic--that's worsted/plastic-- laying around--why is it always the expensive shit?) I've got a new set of sport-weight toe-up 2-timers, and a cherry-tree hill plain old on the magic loop, and, of course, the peacock colored cloverleaf rib 2timers...

And I could sit and work on these things for HOURS. I am sooooooo in the mood. (Me, a movie, naptime, and my needles...it's a dct--a Dream Come True:-)

But I've also hit a crucial part of Bitter Moon II, and I think that maybe more people--including Chicken--would be happier if I worked on that. (Assuming, that is that more than just those reading this blog ever read Bitter Moon I--I got a wonderful comment and review from GJohnson about BMoon I--thank you darling!!!-- but the sales have pretty much convinced me I sent my baby to school during a New England Winter, when I had dressed them in anticipation of a Northern California Fall.)

But still...I've been planning this part of B Moon II from the PROLOGUE of B Moon I--I'm almost as breathless as my main characters!!!

So I"m basically up to my eyeballs in unnecessary obligations that I adore fulfilling. It's cleaning the house that I"m having trouble with!!! (That, and dealing with my 6th period...I think Thugs-R-Us is missing it's inventory, and I can't find the shipping label to get rid of the bottom half of this class' soul!!)

Anyway, I'm a little bit sick (sore throat, sore ears, tired) and that could account for the need to knit...I don't think the need to write is going to be in any danger of going away.

Oh yes--and on the child-front?

As I watched the Cave Troll walk into daycare this morning, it occurred to me that he was not looking his best--his hair needs cutting, and we've been calling him Einstein for the past few weeks. (We've been calling his little sister 'Oppenheimer'--they're the mad-scientist twins.) His sweats were old, he was wearing his father's socks with his sandals, and his shirt was a little bit big for him. (It was bought in anticipation of a winter growth spurt that did actually come--but it didn't add anything to his weight.) The shirt also reads, 'Pull my finger'--because he was being particularly stinky that day.

So, as I rolled my eyes and scolded myself internally for sending my kid to day care looking like the poster child for neglected mad scientist's children, Brenda said suddenly, "Ms. Lane--I'm taking the older kids to the capital today, is that okay? They're having an activity day for abused children awareness--I thought the older kids would have fun there."

"Sure," I said weakly. "But try to make sure he doesn't end up on any fliers as an example, wouldja?"

She was a Junior when I was pregnant with the Cave Troll--she's seen me come to school in full mad-scientist regalia, including mismatched white tennis shoes. (K Swiss--one from one year, one from the other.)

"Aw, Ms. Mac--he's just like you. He's unique."

That was my cue...I was outta there. Watch for my kid on the news.

The Good Side to Suckage

So I woke up this morning, got ready for work, and prepared myself:

This day, is going to suck.

It was my mantra.

It was true.

* The Cave Troll picked a fight with me on the way to school. He did--swear to Triane he did--'Don't turn off the tv!' 'Don't want to wear these pants!' (as we are GETTING IN THE CAR!!) 'Want milk!' And then, as we are driving away with the tv blaring in the house BY HIS ROYAL FUCKING COMMAND, 'Turn off the tv!!!'. And as he threw his fit, it occurred to me--the little shit did this on purpose. He didn't want to go to day care, he liked the lazy mama days, and he had to find something at fault with the universe to throw a fit at. Anyway, he was a joy and a blessing this morning--if you were a goblin from hell trying to raise the bane of mankind in the back of a minivan.

* The babysitter moved. (No, not today.) She told me she moved. I'd even been to the new house. But I didn't remember as the car auto-piloted it's way to the old site, until I actually pulled up. I had to turn around and go to her new place! Besides feeling stupid, I almost didn't have time to get my soda--and that's a BAD THING.

* I did get my soda. I spilled it as I opened the @#$%ing gate.

* As I was throwing the last three inches away, the cup hit bottom and splashed me with the rest.

Okay--remember--all this is before 8:30 in the morning. But it was okay--it was o--kay.

Because my kids have been loud and noisy and hard to control all day--but I was ready. I got here in fighting trim, because I was prepared.

This day is gonna suck. Bring it on, baby, bring it on!

EDITED TO ADD: And a colleague just made my day! I told him I knit two of his three baby socks at the same time, and he replied "Really? You can knit one in each hand?"

I replied "Oh, if only! But, mark my words, someday, someone is going to take that innocent remark to heart, and that will be the next sock-technique book, mark my words!!!

Thank you, Lady in Red...

Ladybug's birthday party was today...and it was just going to be us. Her grandparents had bailed, her day care friends had already sang happy birthday, and I hadn't invited a whole lot of other people--just Lady in Red and her two wonderful boys.

We were prepared for it just to be us...we felt a little silly dragging out the tablecloth and the fancy plates and all the paraphernalia to the picnic table, until Ladybug herself came out, saw the tablecloth, clapped her hands and said 'La la la!' (That's the Little Mermaid, to those who don't speak toddler.)

Suddenly all of the effort of hauling a picnic out to the park for just the six of us didn't seem that bad.

And then the Lady In Red showed up, and it seemed perfect. Cave Troll had someone to play with, someone else got to eat strawberry shortcake, the party favors got to go to kids who would like them...it really was a party, complete with two REALLY BIG BAGS OF GIFTS that she got to open.

Because Mate and I are complete dorks, we have no pictures with us this time... we will have to carry the mental picture of Ladybug, with her new pink panda backpack on her back, carrying her new La La La doll in her arms (she does have an affinity for blue-eyed red-heads) and the ribbons from her present in her hair. She is wearing a pretty pretty party dress (turquoise) with green socks, pink-heart shoes, and a turquoise jacket, because it was a wee bit cold in the wind.

She is smiling with all her teeth, and she will never let go of that doll, not even in sleep, which is what she is doing now, on the couch, after having fallen asleep on the way home.

She is two, and she had party guests, and we, her family, were there. Sometimes, it's the best you can do, and sometimes, it's more than enough.

Thank you, Lady in Red, for showing up and making it a party.

Thank Goddess, for my sweet little girl:-)

Tomorrow we go back to school, and this sweet, quiet two weeks of me and my babies will be over. But it's been lovely--I'll be glad to see my students again (don't laugh--I shit you not!!!) but it will be hard to know that I won't be spending the day with my little ones, making me laugh, making me yell, making me crazy--making me remember that I'm really a mother first, and then a teacher and a writer and a knitter...

I'll totally miss them:-)

A Child's First Sin...

Is growing up without mum & dad's express permission.

We never forgive them for this.

They never understand why it was wrong.


My dessert baby turned officially two today--a surprise to everybody in day care, as we brought a little cake and little favors and held an impromptu party after naptime, since mom got to be home today--but it wasn't a surprise to us. It's not like we haven't had signs.

There has been the constant chatty-ness--open it, give me that, want it, mine, give it back, mine, Chicken come back, where'd T go, Kewyn that's mine, mama come here, want bite, eat, eat, eat, come sit, come feed me, no want bottle, give bottle to Kewyn, Kewyn give me bottle, Daddy want sit...you get the picture.

There has been the terrible, unrelenting bossy-ness-- see above.

There has been the insistence on wearing specific pretty things on specific days. Also related to bossy-ness--see above.

There has been a desire to take off her diaper and run around bare-assed naked under her dress. I think that's a family thing, because the Cave Troll can't go outside unless his clothes hit the floor.

There has been the philosophical differences regarding bedtime. We say it's around 9:30. She insists it's at least two hours after whenever we say it is.

There has been the absolute willingness to do whatever her brother does, faster, better, and with less fear and more potential for bodily risk. I understand that this is a side-benefit from being an Aries, which is the astrological sign equivalent of Tigger in Pooh-strology. Unfortunately, her brother is a Scorpio (or, in Pooh-strology, a Rabbit, with some Tigger sympathies) which means he's constantly getting her into trouble and then ratting her out. @#$$%ing Rabbit. I myself am a Heffalump--we're slightly imaginary creatures who paint everything purple. It doesn't put me in good parenting position--I need to be reborn as a Christopher Robin, but I don't see how that's going to happen.

There has been the ability to run around in circles beyond the capacity for rational thought.

There has been the sudden jumps in logic and intuition, both of which point to a frighteningly smart young Tigger, and I've mentioned this before, one that scares me shitless.

There has been a diabolical increase in the cuteness amperage, which you have all witnessed first hand and which makes reigning in all of the other two-ishness difficult (but not impossible...thanks to our other once-cute children, we do have some cuteness armor at our disposal. They are also less cute after they have sat their bare asses on your head as you are trying to nap. That is the wrong angle for cuteness, there is no doubt about it.)

So there you have it. She has committed her first sin as a child--she has grown older. Of course we forgive her. She's beautiful. She's terrifying. She's frickin' adorable. She's my dessert baby, my Ladybug, my plump little piglet with the Tigger's soul, my blue-eyed red-head, my baby-genius, my kick-back child who has listened to me sing since she was an hour old, and wraps her arms around my neck and says "I love you, mama" and means it. She's my true-north, my evening breeze, my Littlest, my hug-the-cat, my best-for-last, my chocolate eclair and strawberry short-cake and almond-liqueur truffle baby. She's the reason I had four. She's my Arwyn Star and she's two, and Goddess help us all.

When it's not a jungle...

It's a zoo!

And I wish I could be SUPER blog-witty with that caption and show you a photo, but, no, I left my camera at home when we left this morning...along with a few other small things like my sense of direction and my advanced pattern recognition brain.

I kid you not--I've been to the zoo between four and six times a year for the last fifteen years. This was the first time in fifteen years I've ever gotten lost. Twice. I mean, usually, it's a total no-brainer, but this one time, when I've got a friend and a friend of hers waiting for me, I take two wrong exits and the world's longest loop back...it's like my lizard brain had a giant gas bubble, and there I was, cruising down the freeway, flicking my tongue in the fetid air.

Oh yeah--about the fetid air. On Sunday, we had another 'Day'--it was a good day, but it was a day. It was a pick up Grandma in one part of town and drag her to the foothills kind of day, where my aunt had planned the world's COOLEST TREASURE HUNT across her 6-10 acres of land while the adults hauled the small children who couldn't make it on their own kind of day. It was a lot of fun, but there was one moment as I stood on top of a rise with a really steep trail, eyeballing the possible damage to my person should I misstep. A line from George of the Jungle occurred to me, and Chicken heard me say, "Fat woman rolls down hill--classic element of physical comedy." She thought it was funny. (None of my aunt's friends did, for some reason...it seriously felt like I was losing my mojo. Even the one ACTUALLY named Amy didn't seem to feel she had anything in common with me. It was weird.) Okay, getting back to the fetid air.

On the way home, one of my useless teenagers, I mean beloved older children, knocked over an old (I mean OLD) Jamba Juice on the floor. Since it was theirs in the first place and had never been cleaned up, I asked them (commanded them, begged them, whatever) to clean the damned thing up.

Two days later, (this morning!) I opened the car doors to the MOST APPALLING STENCH KNOWN TO MAN. It was wet dog and permed hair, it was nasty feet and spoiled fruit, it was duckshit in a pressure cooker with buffalo wing sauce, it was the wheels of the juggernaught, greased with burnt plastic and limburger cheese!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was nothing a half a can of Febreze and some open windows couldn't beat into submission.

Anyway, I blame my getting lost on the way to the zoo on that. Seriously--are there carcinogens in Febreze? It must have been SOMETHING, because usually, my lizard brain takes over on these trips and, VOILA! I'm at the fucking zoo. This time, I ended up doing louies in some craptastic parts of town--it was bizarre. (Maybe it's been so cold for so long that my lizard brain is just super sluggish...It's not like I'm totally fond of lizards anyway.)

But once we got there, the parade of hyperactive preschoolers was pretty hilarious...Cave Troll saw all of his favorite animals to his heart's content, but I've got to say my favorites were the Snow Leopards. Very fuzzy, very beautiful--if they'd had stripes and really superlong ear tufts, they would have resembled a certain man-god who is currently not selling very well on amazon.com at all. (*mutter* freakin' book sales...it's a good book, I swear on Triane's chastity belt it is!!!)

And after the zoo, it was Fariytale town--not always my favorite place, maybe because we only go there after hauling exhausted children through the zoo, the duckpond, and half of William Land Park. The idea is, everything there is some sort of innocent play structure based on fairy tales. The reality is, I see pedophiles in every corner, (my imagination, not for real) and there are too many corners, and too many children, and when one goes forward and the other goes backwards, and one decides to take short cuts through the crooked mile...well, you can see the angst. Today, though, it wasn't so bad--perhaps because there were three mommies to five goombas--it always helps to have that smaller ratio when you're outnumbered. Perhaps it was because Arwyn was such her own littler person--she was a delight to watch... when I wasn't chasing after her older brother. Perhaps it was just because they were being really really good, and that always warms the heart. Whatever--they had a blast, and then came home and threw their "We're overtired but it's too late for a nap and too early for real bed" festival of misery and...

Well, really, that's where we are now. And it's good, in a "I may have to throttle my offspring now" sort of way. By the way? That sock contest? I'm SO getting into it. I've got socks planned for Cory and Bracken and Green and Nicky and Renny...and no time to knit them. But that's okay. I was afraid I'd have trouble getting back into the Coryverse after Bitter Moon I & II--but as it turns out, that foul mouthed teenybopper and her hunks of the month are a serious part of me. Thank Goddess--I'd hate to lose that!

*whew* I could write more, but I need to clear the sink to wash some very tired children. (Bathroom? We have another bathroom? With a bathtub? Really? Mate--is this true? Is that where that other door leads? It's... it's been so long... it must be a false memory, like in 1984 or something, right? Yeah. There's no such thing.)

A friend, a tragedy, and a scholarship program

I did not know my highly esteemed Lady in Red well when her brother, Raymond, passed away from unknown causes. I did get to hear her talk about him one giddy, childless night after a school function over snacks, when we tried to cram a year's worth of socializing in one and a half stolen hours.

LIR loved her brother so very much--with a closeness, and a fervor, a devotion and an admiration that I can only hope my children feel for each other when they are grown. If the size of a person's heart can be judged by the hole they rip out of the world when they leave it, Raymond must have possessed the heart of the sun. His passing left one hell of a dark hole.

Lady in Red is herself a formidable woman, with terrific passion, compassion, and the Goddess' potential for doing great (and terrible:-) things. (These wonderful qualities can be seen in her children and her writing--all offspring are beautiful, without question or doubt.) She and her mother have begun a scholarship program in memory of Raymond, and to that end, her mother is selling what she callsREARVIEW DANGLES. They are rearview mirror charms, and they are really very cool. ''. (Lady in Red says that it's a horrible name...it's been growing on me all day, I have to admit.)

I told LIR that I'd put the link in my blog, because I think it's a wonderful idea--especially because Raymond was an artist, and I've seen first hand (haven't we ALL) how very little the public education system gives to our artistically talented. It is very true that a society is judged by its art, and I shudder to think what we're teaching our young people about our society in terms of what we can offer our gifted ones. I think that remembering lost potential by investing in found potential is a beautiful idea.

It can't close up a hole the size of the heart of the sun, of course, but it may be able to soften the ragged edges from whence it was ripped.