Circle of Life: Lane William Sume Edition

 

On the sixteenth day of February, in the year of our Lord 2021, the Sume Family welcomed Lane William Sume.

At 6 lbs, 15 ounces, 18.5” tall, and sweet of disposition, Lane arrives to make “Baby John” a big brother, Cousin Aiden moves up from little cousin status to big cousin, and I am now Nana Sugar to three beautiful boys. The Sume’s do love to have boys!

Lane was scheduled to arrive this week, but there’s just something about babies and snowstorms that is an unbeatable combination. When you add in the fact that I was literally out of the country—well, who could blame him for picking his own timetable?

Lane is perfection—a miracle and magic concoction of sweetness that is irresistible. So, you’ll excuse me if I cut this short—my test results say I am cootie-free and there’s a new grandbaby that needs spoiling.

John and Lane

Who's Zooming Who

 I’ve already spilled the beans on myself that I am an inconsistent, mediocre secret keeper. I can keep other people’s secrets in lock box---UNLESS those secrets involve me--- then I’m all Little Miss Sink Ships with her loose lips.

I have a couple of very delicious secrets that I’m keeping firmly under my hat. And since I can’t talk about them yet—not directly, anyway---I thought I talked about things that are contiguous to them. 

Take, for example, Zoom meetings.

A couple of my secrets involve the necessity of attending Zoom meetings. In case there is anybody out there who has managed to stay blissfully unaware of what a Zoom meeting is—it’s like a cross between and in-person meeting and a conference call—audio AND video.

Years ago—before technology tracked us down in and rudely followed us into the shelter of our homes, a person could be at home and be reached only by an in-person visit or by telephone. You remember telephones—those clunky things that hung on our walls or set on desktops? They would ring and you would answer them and talk to people and NO ONE COULD SEE YOU? Good times, good times...

On a business phone call made from home, you could stay comfortably in your pajamas with no one the wiser. Oh, sure—there were those people who adhered to the Lipstick and Shoe Rule while on the phone---shoes on, lipstick on--so that one would sound professional, i.e. shoe-wearing-- but I fall squarely in the Bare Lip/Bare Foot camp. I’m pretty sure I can fake professionalism. My voice sounds like I’m wearing shoes.

Zoom video calls have ruined that. Now I have to take off my robe, put on Real Clothes, comb my hair and fake professionalism.

How's my hair?

Faking professionalism is a lot harder to do when I’m constantly confronted by my own, live, image. Instead of keeping track of what we are supposed to be talking about all I can think is “is that my hair? Does it really look like that? Dear God!” Zoom calls make me a nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs. It takes all my will power to not to keep fidgeting with my hair.

Fortunately for me, I don’t have to fake crappy internet--and as such-- have a beautiful built in excuse to opt out of sharing video while zooming.

When the Student is Ready

“When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” 

The quote has been attributed to Tao Te Ching, to Buddha, and probably Abraham Lincoln—because that’s how the internet works.

I’ve been thinking about teachers a lot lately. I have been blessed by a lifetime full of great teachers—my first and best teacher—my mother-- who, in addition to all the teaching that mothers do, was also in turn my kindergarten teacher, and my fifth-grade teacher. And yes, I called her Mrs. Mullins in class. She used to tell the story that one day in Kindergarten, when she had apparently failed to respond to several of my calls for attention: “Mrs. Mullins. Oh, Mrs. Mullins!” I apparently decided to use the one name guaranteed to get her attention and called her “Mommy.” “She called you Mommy!” my classmates laughed; certain I had just made a Freudian slip. I was so good at referring to her as Mrs. Mullins some of my little classmates didn’t realize she was my mom! To them, I was just one of four Mullins kids in the class.

In addition to my mom, I was fortunate enough to have had both the legendary June Rowland and Kenton Smith as teachers. Both were wise and loving teachers who fed my love of words. Science teachers Randy Sharp and John Mullenix shared their love of the natural world with their students and I still remember taxonomy hierarchy: “Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species” to this day. Good teachers shape our lives and our futures.

 

Nova Mullins & Cameron Sume

Teaching runs in my family’s blood. In addition to my mom, my son Cameron is also a teacher. He teaches math--secondary math education, to be precise--at Graham Kapowsin High School in Puyallup. He loves teaching, and the challenges of Covid have him working long hours. Most of his teaching is done “on-line” but he does meet with students who need extra help in-person.

When I asked him the specifics about the differences in lesson planning for on-line vs. in-person education, he said “I have yet to plan a lesson to be given in person and online, but I imagine the two would be very different. The timing of online teaching is a lot slower and transitions take longer.” He also noted that it’s a lot harder to build and maintain relationships with students over distance learning. He shared that he knows of other teachers and classes that are very successful with on-line learning, but that students who struggle academically—specifically in math (and boy, do I relate to that)—are having a hard time.

When I texted him some follow up questions, he begged off, citing the lateness of the hour and asked if we could talk tomorrow instead. 

“Deadline IS tomorrow” I texted back.

He answered another question and then sent “Also you should try to write before the deadline.”

He sent a smiley face emoji and “Sorry, that’s the teacher in me.”

When the student is ready...

Please remember to support our local students by voting YES on our levy. And don’t procrastinate—even I am sending my ballot in early.

 

Secrets and Such

 Once upon a time ago—I was excellent at keeping secrets. Tell me a secret and ZIP! Into the vault it went, never to be disclosed.

Oh, sure—there are always those Doubting Thomas’ out there, who might suggest that the reason I was so stellar at secret keeping was that the moment you told me a secret or two I promptly forgot them. This is not at all true, and I could cite many such examples of my secret keeping prowess but—hello! Secrets! Gotta keep ‘em.

As time marches on, I have found that my ability to keep a secret seems to be inversely proportional to how fantastic the secret is.

For example, the day I was told my first grandson was on the way and was sworn to secrecy—I told my son how excited I was to tell Person A---and Person B—and also Persons C and D—and of course I’d HAVE to tell Person E, because come on, I’m only HUMAN. By the time the conversation was over I had also made the case for telling Person F and G—all while still being able to claim I was keeping a “secret.” A secret with exemptions. Because in addition to being an excellent secret keeper—I’m an even better negotiator.

When my second grandson was on the way, my negotiation tactics were seen coming and I was sworn to strict secrecy. I kept the secret so securely that even *I* forgot I’d made it—told Person D—of course I swore HER to secrecy—and then kept my secret sharing a secret from myself to the point that when Person D was officially told I congratulated myself for NOT telling this time---only to have Person D give me some serious side eye...

I have done a much better job of secret keeping this time around, for Grandson Number Three. Of course, it was TOTALLY NOT MY FAULT that when his parents called to tell me the happy secret and was out relaxing in the back yard with Person E and so of course I had my phone on speaker phone...

My Big Secret Number Three is due by the end of February and to prove how good I am at keeping secrets, I’m not going to spoil the surprise and tell you Lane’s name---HOORAY ME!

New Year’s Resolutions 2020

 

To resolve or not to resolve, that is the question. One of many questions, anyway. Can you even make new year’s resolutions after a year like 2020? Is there in wisdom in that? Is that just wishful thinking?

Resolution Number One: Go to the gym more. 

SNORT

Resolution Number Two: Travel more. 

SNORT

Resolution Number Three: Go back to not making New Year’s Resolutions. 

DING! DING! DING!

My “normal” M.O. is to not rush in to making any rash resolutions and wait until about February before actually committing to any plan of action. I like to have time to consider all the draw backs, downsides, and unintended consequences. Before I leap into the abyss I like to give it a long, hard, look.

I should probably treat my Amazon shopping cart more like a resolution. Maybe if I spent more time considering the ins and outs of buying a cat water fountain, or 36 rolls of washi tape-- based on the complete works of Vincent van Gogh and available with FREE SHIPPING—FREE! SHIPPING!--  before I tossed it into my shopping cart...

Not my cat. My cat HATES the fountain. 
But the shipping was free...

But no—Amazon shopping is amazing. I’m always so surprised to see what I bought. Every day is like my birthday—Look! Tempera paints for the grandkids! With matching brushes! Kraft Lime Cilantro salad dressing by the gallon—what? I really LIKE it! I’m already on my third gallon.

So delicious! So low calorie!
And free shipping!

 And some of the stuff I buy I really NEED—like printer ink, and a white noise machine that mimics all the sounds of the rainforest—because being fully rested is IMPORTANT. 

Then there are the books... “Where the Wild Things Are,” and “Harold and the Purple Crayon” share space in my cart with” Harriet Wolf’s Seventh Book of Wonders,” and “Killers of the Flower Moon.” I highly recommend ALL of them. Five out of five stars.

Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to go google “101 things to do with washi tape” and see if I can live up to my resolution to “Use the Stuff I Buy on Amazon.”

Look how pretty!

Oh, Christmas Tree 2020 Edition: Never Mind, I’ll Do It Myself

It’s 3 o’clock on a Sunday afternoon in early December. My Christmas tree has been up and fully illuminated for over 24 hours. I’m still in my pajamas, completely covered in glitter, and my Christmas tree is mostly naked. 

I can explain.

Actually, it would probably be better if I just summed it up. My Famous Designer Friend from NYC was here and ruined Christmas with his tasteful editions to my usual decor. He gifted me with a beautiful table arrangement of woodland greens, dried corn leaves “locally sourced” from my garden, cones, beautiful fairy lights encased in muted gold mesh globes, and just a hint of glitzy, glamourous-glittery gold spirals to kick it up a notch.

Homespun meets glitz

Unfortunately, kicking it up a notch resulted in knocking it out of the park; making everything else around it seem drab and overwrought by comparison. Try as I might to convince him to make my tree match my table décor, he wouldn’t fall for it. Even my subtle hints about “spilling the beans” on his Great Gramma Goode fell on deaf ears.

Not what I had in mind...

After he left on Sunday morning, I decided that I was perfectly capable of glamming up my own dang Christmas, thank you very much. I’d just do it my own, little-red-hen, self.

Step one: change out the 36 bows I usually use on my tree to 36 new ones. The new ones would add just the right touch of glitz—white ribbon with a micro glitter red and silver candy cane stripe—complete with a sprinkle of oversized glitter to really kick it up a notch. Lovely!

Q: How long can it take to cut and tie 36 bows? A: No matter how long you guessed, double it. Then factor in my—having yanked the bows good and tight in my efforts to even them up—forgetting to insert the wire needed to attach them to the tree. And I don’t have any Christmas ornament hangers. And the hardware stores are now closed.

Using a toothpick to loosen up the knots enough to slide in some tomato wire--we McGyvers use what we have--took much longer than expected.

Suffice it to say, that as of this writing, my tree has 1,660 white lights; 36 handcrafted bows, eight tiny reindeer, one large reindeer and not much else.

Can we call this done? I believe so.

Glamour is hard. “Homespun” really is more my speed, after all. Or maybe it’s not too late to go “Minimalist” after all... 

Oh, Christmas Tree, 2020 Edition

 In Christmas Past, I have long been an advocate of The Perfect Christmas Tree; get a tree, string a MINIMUM of 200 lights per foot—visible from space is the goal. Then garnish in the style of your choosing. With enough lumens illuminating your tree, any lapses in judgement/taste or imperfections of execution will be impossible to see without sunglasses.

Some people do themed trees, and I like to think I do as well. My preferred style has been called “homespun”—I’m not sure it was meant as a compliment—and my theme every year is “Christmas thru the Years.”  Which basically means that every year I just load on all the “stuff” from every year pervious, plus all the new “stuff” I bought the current year. It’s a work in progress. Some years my tree falls over.

This year, my Famous Designer Friend from NYC, who shall remain nameless (Hi Philip!) was “Out Town” doing a Christmas Design for a customer in Gig Harbor. Of course I invited him to visit me-- he’s my FRIEND—we go way back. It was purely a coincidence that my Christmas tree was delivered just a head of his visit.

When Phil—when my Famous Designer Friend from NYC--you might remember him from the three Sume weddings, where he had a starring role as The Only Floral Designer our family would ever even think about using UTILIZING-- he immediately set to work crafting beautiful wreaths, swags and garlands for friends and clients, using woodland materials that were “locally sourced.” And by “locally sourced,” I of course mean I turned him loose in my back yard with a pair of clippers and a bag for moss. I even unplugged the electric fence for him.

Being generous to a fault, my FDFFNYC made me the most beautiful centerpiece for my holiday table while he was working on his planned creations. Then he also whipped up two lovely woodland toppers, complete with beautiful bows, for my two lanterns! My house was beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Nature--with a touch of glitz,

I suggested to FDFFNYC that he might as well glam up my Christmas tree with his special brand of magic while I took a break in the hot tub—watching the creative process was exhausting. Imagine my dismay when I came back to find my Christmas tree looking like this:

Philip Ruins Christmas

 

I guess there’s just no accounting for taste....

 

Next week: Sue does it herself.