Tagged (Aren't We All?)

Thanks to Sharecropper, I've been tagged. This means:

1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

[Following Mimi's sensible lead, I'm not tagging eight people since, among other things, it would take me eight years to find anyone who hasn't been tagged). But here goes:

1. I love eating butter cream icing.

2. I should have been a ballet dancer or a physicist, though maybe it’s just as well that I followed my abilities, such as they are, rather than my passions.

3. I keep thinking of the current Anglican Communion and TEC dance in terms of an off sides trap (too much soccer, you see).

4. During high school, I spent countless Saturday nights watching bullfights on Spanish-language t.v. (with English commentary from Sidney Franklin, known as the “Bullfighter from Brooklyn” and friend of Ernest Hemingway). I cannot account for this other than being intrigued by its grace, skill, and its supposed respect for the strength and courage of the animals, and being removed from the blood and gore, not only by distance but also by poor t.v. reception on a black and white screen (well, I’m almost as old as Mimi, but not quite).

5. I loathe and despise shopping, especially in enclosed malls. I really HATE being herded into a group of women and being told to “go shop” as if it were coded in my DNA. (This is partly why I have not participated in clergy spouses’ functions).

6. I love running a boat alone in choppy waters with the wind whipping through my hair.

7. I am almost never anywhere on time. My kids chalk it up to my ADG (attention deficit Gift – their term, not mine. Needless to say, I'm not medicated -- this
is the "natural" me, I'm afraid, impulsive but slow to do what and when I ought).

8. Last Christmas my 83-year-old mother and 60-year-old husband conspired to treat me to my guilty pleasure – the entire DVD set of Sex and the City. Although I live in t-shirts, jeans, and bare feet and otherwise have little in my life resembling life in the series [correction, I do have True Love], nevertheless, I am smitten with the clothes, the shoes, the deep friendships, the humor, the wit, and the wisdom of this show (which, of course, is NOT about sex ;-) ). Or maybe it’s just the glorious ending episodes in Paris, the white shoe in the doggie do in the street, the beautiful ballet skirted vintage dress, the scene where Carrie slide tackles (i.e. trips) Big in the corridor of the hotel, and they tumble down together laughing (if that's not real love, I don't know what is).

There. That's eight. Whew! My first meme. Too bad I flunked the tagging part. I thought about tagging some dead people, who might enjoy joining in, but I'm not sure which email addresses or websites to use. Maybe later.......

Sorry!

Belated apologies to all those who have stopped by here recently while I've been absent. I'm afraid that my day job has lately shifted into nights and just about every other corner of my life not occupied by soccer (which seems to rule supreme, although it shouldn't) and various other activities associated with teenagers reaching the end of the school year (and the time when they will be home long enough each day to drive me OUT OF MY MIND (not hard to do) and distract me further from both work and blogging). This, of course, comes at the same time of year that courts are issuing a glut of decisions, wrapping up cases heard in the past term so they all can get on with their summer vacations -- which is what drives my "day" job (reporting on those decisions).

I hope to get caught up with the blogosphere someday soon (though I suspect that, with regards to the TEC/AC saga, it's much like any other soap opera - one can jump in at any point and not really have missed much). However, aside from the workload and my son's upcoming graduation from high school (how is it possible I have an 18 year old? oh yea, sex + childbirth + the passage of time = big guy about to leave home, or at least move away to a dorm), there is, as I've mentioned SOCCER (or as its known among the local elite, "football"). I can't help but be excited about my daughter's team winning State Cup in their division and going on to play in Regionals in Maine at the end of the month, and maybe (or so they dream) going on to play Nationals in Texas in July. But this means even more intensive training and practices for now (meaning lots of driving for me) and taking a chunk of vacation time (let's not mention money) for the trek to Maine.

Winning, of course, isn't everything, but it's great to see this group of girls, some of whom we've known for the past six years, working hard and playing at such a high level, with energy, skill, and determination. I've loved soccer ever since college, when I tagged along to watch our team (BF was a defender) play, an unlikely but marvellous mix of talent with students from overseas (Europe and Africa) and some from the few communities in the U.S. that had decent soccer programs back in the 1960's and 1970's. To me it combines the grace, agility, and quick thinking required for ballet (my first love), creating a vibrant dance that ebbs and flows and only occasionally bursts into successful shots on goal. Anyway, my daughter hated ballet, so here we are. And although I hesitate to point this out, doing my best to maintain some Christian values in a rough-and-tumble sport, the photo I snapped last weekend features a Central New York player edging out a much larger Binghamton player trying to strongarm her out of the way. It seemed kind of fitting somehow, although I'm not sure why. Anyway, it was a sunny, lovely weekend away from the computer.

So, this is a roundabout way of saying that my blogging aspirations may have to sit on the back burner for now. Someday maybe I'll write of my lovely visit to early Sunday mass at an Episcopal church, conveniently located near our hotel for the State Cup tournament weekend. Then there's religion and science and.... but, yes, I promise, NO breastfeeding talk. Until then....

Well, enough natter. Back to work (after being tagged).