Deep Thinking

I asked my oldest son to describe our holiday this year and here are some quotes from him:
“It was a family-event this year. It wasn’t vacation as much as returning home. We couldn’t worry about gifts so we focused on people and the spirit of Christmas.”

My Christmas vacation was wonderful this year. Thanks to my brother, we were able to drive through the snow & ice storm to go to Iowa with three teens, a German Shepherd, a Border Collie-wannabe, and kitten. If you ever examine cell phone maps, I was in the part of the country that is usually white - meaning no service. When we would travel to the middle of the state or to Sioux City, we’d miraculously have service and I’d be text-messaging, listening to voice mail and calling people just because I could. We also had cable television with about 12 channels and dial-up internet that meant no one could be on the phone while we were on the computer. We survived. The only TV reports we needed were the weather at 6 and 10 plus a bit of Wheel of Fortune.

In fact, we thrived focusing on face-to-face contact with family and friends. We played so many card games, Mah-Jong, and Uno. We listened as nearly everyone played the piano and sang. The “children” trekked through the snow, set up rabbit traps, shot pellet guns at targets, built sliding hills, and covered themselves with snow. We cooked and we ate! We bundled up for the 17 mile car trek to the grocery store to sit in the deli my brother manages and chat with the people in the county we knew. We curled up and read. We did go window-shopping and ended up in the bookstores buying more books. We reminisced. My oldest son and I sang a duet of “Oh, Holy Night” for Christmas Eve services with me taking a high soprano part and him singing two octaves below. We hugged old friends and admired the growth of their children. We played competitive crossword puzzles and Sudoku with the women reminding the men of our superiority. #1 son’s girlfriend teased #3 son to smile, joke, and laugh with us.

My nephew & niece brought over their game systems and we watched all the children play Wii. I even managed a few rounds, until they reminded me that my name is not Grace and I have none. They gently put the cards back in my hand and suggested more solitaire. Every time I dealt out a solitaire game, someone joined me and we were soon playing Crazy-Eight, Go Fish, Rummy and more. Yes, there was some trash-talking going on during some of the bigger rounds. Competitiveness is high.

We talked about world affairs, the very real possibility of my oldest son’s deploying next week, the politicians that you can’t avoid all over Iowa for the caucus, the ending of the 26 years of owning the local gas station, the health of everyone in town and lack of national health care, depression, poverty, sadness that not all of the family could be there, Bible studies, old friends, my commitments to ALA and AASL, and family around the country.

The children had snow-ball fights, races, walks in the 8 degree temps, and visits to the local library. We watched as snowmobilers came through and threatened to run away with them through the countryside. The boys tracked deer through the woods, realized that they could fall into the creek through the ice, and wrestled amongst the glass breakables and decorations.

Perhaps the best part was watching my mother roll fresh Cinnamon rolls early one morning. As she squeezed, dusted, and pressed, her eyes suddenly misted over and she said, “This makes me think of your grandmother.” I hugged her and mentioned how I forget that Grandma and Grandpa Tom have passed over and still try to pick up the phone to call them to ask questions, check on recipes, and laugh over the goofy stuff my kids do.

I am hoping you had a timeless holiday this year and were able to celebrate being with people.

I have an accent problem. Depending upon the person I’m listening to, my accent changes. This was very noticeable yesterday when my sons were in the kitchen installing my coffee pot under the counter. I mentioned that I needed to “wash” the counter carefully when they were finished. They all looked at me and said, “Did you just say warsh?” Oops! You can tell I’ve been back in Iowa visiting my family.

Now, I am NOT saying that everyone in NW Iowa talks that way, just the people I was with last week. We have an interesting accent of higher pitched at the end (like Canadians), faster talking, Norwegian, German, Swedish, etc. sounds. I was accused of sounding Southern when I first arrived; although everyone in the South would say, “What Southern accent?”

When I was in college studying Chinese and Spanish simultaneously, I’d have to ask the instructors to just “talk at me” in the beginning of class so I could re-orient my thoughts. I could maintain a beautiful “government style” Mandarin Chinese in Taiwan as long as I didn’t run into someone speaking with a ShanDung accent. While living in Germany life was challenging. I’d be chatting in Chinese with a German accent, meet friends from Spain and switch to Spanish with a Chinese accent, then be back with my Greek friends all mixed-up.

My S2BX never had any problems with this. He maintained his flat Midwestern with a hint of Canadian accent everywhere we went. His biggest problem was the word “about” which is NOT the same in the south. I need to go hang out with my friends at the grocery store to re-orient my ear before next week or my students won’t understand a word I say. I’ll spend the first week correcting their speech to a perfectly bland American accent. If you eavesdrop, you’ll hear me saying these phrases: “Honey, that word is king, and it only has one vowel. This is a pen. This is a pin. There is a difference. I don’t want to hear the phrase “I’m fixing to…” unless you have a tool in your hand. Only bells “brung” people bring back their books.”

To make life more interesting, my library assistant speaks with a beautiful Cambridge accent and will have to tolerate me re-adapting. I don’t consciously mimic her when she’s not there, but her accent is stuck in my head. Queue up children and let us prepare for dismissal.

Argh! Maybe I will travel to the Sudan. I have been intrigued with the accents of some of my students’ parents. Maybe it’s time to mix-up my voice even more. For those of you I’ll be meeting in Philly for ALA Midwinter, I just hope you can understand me. We can always resort to passing notes.