Jenyfer Matthews

But you can’t take competition out of the children.

I subbed last week for a librarian at the local American school and instead of working in the library that day, I did what she was scheduled to do that day and worked at their annual sports day. Only they don’t call it “sports day”, they call it “kids day” – and rightfully so because there was nothing sports-like about it.

When I was a child we called it “field day” and there were actual competitive sporting events. We had things like sprints, long jump, relays. There were also slightly borderline events like three-legged race and wheelbarrow race, but all the events had one thing in common: they were all competitive and they all had a declared winner. Someone kept a tally, and at the end of the day the person who won the most events was declared the overall winner and on the next regular school day the first, second, third and fourth winners were recognized with ribbons. It was meant to be a mini-Olympic type day and anyone who cared competed fiercely for those ribbons. I can still remember that I won first place for the girls when I was in sixth grade.

Back to the present and last week’s kids day. It was a day of fun, a day of games, but not a day of competition. At least not officially. Some of the games had ways to measure wins and losses, but they were all team events and so far as I could tell, no one was keeping track of it in any official way. As the officials running the various game stations, we assigned points for how well the children listened to the instructions, how much positive team spirit they displayed, and how many children were wearing hats. If there were a way to swab for sunscreen and what SPF they were wearing, I’m sure that would have been on the sheet as well. But nowhere was there a spot for recording winners and all the activities were team activities. No individual events. It was all for fun.

In spite of all this carefully orchestrated non-competitive fun, I still heard kids cheering for their teammates to hurry up, accusing others of cheating, and declaring themselves the winners of an event. They were clearly enjoying themselves, but they were also very intent on winning and were disappointed when they didn’t do as well as they would have liked.

So why is it that we can still celebrate the victory of our Olympic athletes, but we want to erase any sign of competition when it comes to our children? Where do people think that Olympians come from anyway? Or any successful people in any field for that matter? Different people are good at different things. No one will excel at everything, and yes, when you are young and still figuring all that out, it’s not always a happy or comfortable process. But parents and teachers aren’t doing anyone any favors by trying to shield children from that knowledge. And from what I’ve seen over the years on soccer fields, tennis courts, and schools, parents and teachers would be much better off accepting that competition is a part of human nature and instead of trying to expunge it from the curriculum, teaching children sportsmanship – how to be good winners and good losers.

I’m going on a group tour this weekend to a place called Wissa Wassef Art Center and I’m pretty excited. Pottery and tapestry, two crafts so close to my heart, in one place?? I don’t think my husband truly appreciates how dangerous a trip like this might be to our bank account! I have several embroidered pieces already and the only reason I have as many as I do is because he wasn’t with me when I bought them (sshh!!)

Last weekend a friend of mine invited me along on a trip she had planned to go and see a Lego exhibit she’d heard about at the Egyptian Museum. Lego at the Museum? I joked that what were they going to do, build a pyramid out of Lego? The sphinx?

We first went into the main museum building, thinking that perhaps this would be a temporary display set up in a gallery somewhere. Much to my surprise, the museum was absolutely packed. The last time I visited, it was December 2003 when I was visiting Egypt as a tourist. I don’t know if it was because it was a weekday, it was raining, or because it was Ramadan, but the place was a whole lot calmer the last time I was there. Much more museum like. Yesterday it was more like Walmart two days before Christmas. (nightmare!) I had to pick my seven year old son up so that he could see some of King Tut’s treasure because the crowd was so thick that short people had no chance. When we didn’t see any Lego, we quickly made our way back to the entrance and the information desk.

Turns out that there is a new Children’s Museum around the backside of the main museum. At least I surmise it is new because it was empty – we had the whole place to ourselves. Such a treat after having escaped the crowd! And would you believe the first thing we saw as we walked in was a sphinx made out of Lego??

I didn’t have my camera with me but fortunately my friend was able to take a few shots with her Blackberry. It was truly amazing what they were able to do with Lego.

There was King Tut’s mask, mummies, seated statues, mosaic pictures – even a model of the workers building the pyramids all done in Lego! All these things were mixed in with other actual antiquities, plus there was a Lego play area so the children could construct their own exhibits. The children spent a happy hour there. The only thing that would have made it a happier place for the parents was a couch and a coffee bar

I’m really glad that we found it when we did because I imagine that when word gets out, it’s going to be just as crowded at the main museum is – no place like that will remain undiscovered for long!

Two of the lamps that the housing department provided us have already died, which didn’t exactly break my heart because they were ugly anyway. But since I also hate overhead lighting and sitting in the gloom, I decided I better start looking for some replacements.

Why, oh why, are the best lamps so expensive? And the cutest ones so ineffectual? I saw a variety of lamps today, a few I really liked, but I didn’t have enough money with me to buy the floor lamp I liked best. And even though the whimsical table lamps I saw had a 100w bulbs in them, they were about as effective as a nightlight in the shop so I can only imagine it wouldn’t improve in the vast space that is my living room! Great mood lighting, not so great for quilting though.

I’m beginning to think that lamps are like art, they have to come into your life but are rather elusive when you go out looking for the perfect thing…

I had this great idea for a blog post the other night as I was on my way to bed and then the next morning…POOF! Gone. Only the lingering feeling of what a great idea it was remained. If it was such a great idea, it will probably come back to me, however I have the feeling it was probably one of those night thoughts that seems so good at that moment but pales by the light of day.

I’ve been really making progress getting our new house to feel like home. I’m still finding things in odd places – like the corncob fork I found in my tea canister this morning (that could almost be construed as a boobytrap as sharp as they are!) I’m having some friends over on Thursday night so of course I want everything to look as nice as possible (and if I skip my bedroom on the tour, they ought to be impressed!) Yesterday I got out the really tall community ladder and washed the windows in my living room (that was just for me because they wouldn’t be able to see the dirt and smears at night) and I even made a start on hanging a few pictures. I worked so hard all morning that I could have used a nap by afternoon!

Why was I in such a frenzy? Because I hadn’t realized it until yesterday, but my children have a two day holiday this week so will be underfoot until Sunday. They are old enough to entertain themselves, but not when mom is up a tall ladder! Today I’ll have to confine myself to surfaces lower to the ground. I also have a few errands to run, including buying more nails and looking for some lamps.

If I’m really efficient, I’ll even get to wash and iron some of the fabric I’m planning to use for the commission quilt. As much as I dislike ironing, it would be more fun than cleaning the disaster zone that is my bedroom!*

*I only wish I could blame the move for the fact that my bedroom is a disaster zone. The truth is that it was pretty bad when we moved and the movers simply transferred it as is. I’ve compounded things by moving all the things I don’t want to see anywhere else there, including my husband’s mountain bike, an item I defy any decorator to work around…

I used to set my alarm for 6:30am, but that didn’t really leave me enough time to get up, make school lunches, and herd the children through their morning routine without an awful lot of hurry up, hurry up, hurry up! So now I set my alarm for 6am – which would work wonderfully well if only I would actually get up at 6am. Instead I tend to hit the snooze button three times and get up closer to 6:20am. Getting up even twenty minutes late still leaves me just enough time to get everything done with a minimum of nagging most mornings.

I had planned to make French toast over the weekend, but since I was actually the last one up both mornings (lucky me!) it didn’t happen. Instead I decided that I’d make it for breakfast today. When I told my husband my plan last night, he scoffed. He gets up at 5:30am and says he always knows what time it is when he hears my alarm going off over and over again.

I took it as a personal challenge to get up on time this morning.

I admit I still hit snooze 2x, but even getting up 5 minutes earlier than usual left me time to make four pieces of French toast for the children this morning. Just imagine what I could get done in a day if I got up the first time the alarm went off? If I got up when my husband does, I could practically take over the world!

It’s been a productive week – in terms of unpacking that is. I didn’t get as much done as I would have liked, but then I think that sometimes I have unrealistic expectations of how much I’ll get done in any given time frame!

Putting everything away has been a monumental task, but I’ve tried to find pleasure in the process where I can. It makes me happy to see all my quilting fabric unloaded and stacked by color in its new home – TWO big cupboards at the top of the stairs. I’ve found useful items like empty notebooks that I had tucked away and forgotten about. I’ve tossed things that never should have been moved in the first place.

I’ve also rediscovered items that I’d forgotten I had, like this vintage purse. I found this purse at a thrift store in little Minnesota town my mother lives in and paid no more than a $1 for it several summers ago.

I don’t know enough about fashion eras to know exactly what period this purse is from (50s? 60s? earlier?) but it’s in such good condition that I suspect it was someone’s special occasion purse. I’ve treated it that way myself (before I lost track of it completely, that is) But I took it out with me to a friend’s birthday party last night, and it was a lot of fun to use. It has a sturdiness of construction that most modern purses (in my price range!) lack and a true personality that makes it a stand out accessory in the way my other purses aren’t. This purse doesn’t end up hanging off the back of a chair – it displays itself on a table like a piece of art.

My purse was a hit at the party. My friends were astonished when I told them where I’d found it – and they all want to come thrift store shopping with me now!

ETA: the inner lining has the label “Etra” written above the brass zippered pocket. Some quick research has made me lust after more vintage purses…

Within two days of moving into our new apartment, I set a mug of tea on the wood dining table and left a big white mark – oops! Just because these places come furnished doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad when I damage something (and now I know why all the other furniture is covered with sheets of glass). I sort of remembered that there was a way to get rid of such marks (without having to refinish the table!) so I took a break from unpacking and did a little research

I was right – there is a way: ironing the steam mark through a white t-shirt. Sounds totally crazy, but I decided to give it a try anyway because not only were there tons of testimonials to how great it worked, but also because it’s not my furniture anyway!

I used a dry iron to start and only succeeded in making a larger mark in the finish! Then I decided to add in some steam and that did the trick almost instantly. Because I know where to look, I could see a somewhat duller spot in what passes for finish on this table (another reason I wasn’t too concerned about making a bigger problem – it’s not exactly top quality stuff!) but once I’d given the whole table a wipe with Old English Oil the mark disappeared and the whole table looks remarkably better.

Who would have thought?

I have moved several times in my life – in fact, this is the 17th time in my life I’ve moved to a new residence. Granted, I wasn’t always responsible for packing and shifting everything, but the process leaves an impression nonetheless.

First of all, I’m much more a purger than a pack-rat. Since I have never known what it feels like to have a house as a permanent home, I just don’t tend to keep many things past their useful life. It’s not to say I’m not sentimental, but you tend to get pretty ruthless when it comes down to having to move things from place to place – not everything makes the cut. I’m also an excellent packer. I know not to pack books in large boxes and I like to use towels, blankets, etc as packing material – it all has to get moved anyway and by using soft items for cushioning, I’m also saving on volume. Stuffed animals are excellent buffers for fragile items

I’ve only ever had the luxury of using professional movers a few times in my life – most of the rest of our moves were accomplished under our own steam. The first time was when my family moved from Wisconsin to Louisiana when I was four years old – mostly what I remember about that move is that the moving men had an eighteen wheeler truck and they let me sit up in the cab and play. Also, one of them made my sister a tiny horse saddle for one of the many model horses she had in her collection.

The second time I hired professional movers was when my husband and I moved from Cleveland, Ohio to North Carolina. Normally we’d have hired a U-Haul truck and done it ourselves but once I’d seen the warning on the sun visor in the truck about overheating brakes and possible brake failure on downhill slopes I didn’t much like the idea of driving the truck down through the mountains of West Virginia! That was a terrible move – we ended up camping in an empty rental house because the movers ended up being 10 days late. I called the company nearly every day to complain. When the truck finally did arrive, the movers refused to open the truck and unload our possessions until we had paid them! Several items were damaged as well. I ended up fighting the company and getting several hundred dollars back for delays and damage but I tell everyone I know not to use that particular company (though no one I tell has even heard of them so that probably says something right there!)

Our move to Cairo from the United Arab Emirates was a huge job. We’d been in the UAE long enough to have had two children and accumulate the possessions of a family of four. And it wasn’t as easy as just packing up – every box had to be inventoried in detail so that the university could write the customs authorities in Egypt a letter of guarantee so we would not have to pay duty on our things. In short, everything we bring in, we take out. Being a librarian by education I went a little overboard on the itemizing – I kick myself when I see “Mr. Potato Head” on the list when I could have just written “toys”!

The only bad part of our Cairo move was the aftermath: I ended up rupturing a disk while unpacking all of our many boxes. Six months in bed sounds like a lot of fun until you can’t do otherwise. Ouch.

My back has since recovered and at last check my other disks were in reasonable shape, but I wasn’t anxious to injure myself again. The university would have moved our boxes for free if I packed them, but not our personal furniture. So when the moving company I called about the furniture offered to pack everything, move it, and unpack for what was a mere pittance in the grand scheme, I decided it was worth it. Honestly, the move last week went so much better than I expected. I’ve never let anyone else pack all of my things before and they did a great job all the way around. They moved my stuff, they took a couple of large potted plants to the apartments of friends of mine, they retrieved the TV satellite off the roof, and they installed my washing machine. The whole time they were at it, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop – they were going to tell me that the move was a bigger job than they expected and I owed them more, for instance. In fact, they finished up and left and never even asked me to pay! It wasn’t until the next day that the owner of the company called me and arranged to come over and collect the fee – which was exactly what he had quoted me.

It was totally worth the money and the twenty five tea bags and kilo of sugar the five guy crew consumed in their tea breaks over two days!!

I’m busy nesting now and making the new place our own – and really hoping I don’t have to face packing up and moving for at least a couple of years!

Unsurprisingly, I decided against getting my hubby a giant teddy bear for Valentine’s Day.

Since he loves books the way that I love my quilting fabric (and since it took eight giant duffel bags to pack all my fabric and miscellaneous quilting supplies, that is really saying something!) I made the time to put the computer room / study in order so he would have a quiet place to relax and read, away from the general hubbub of the rest of the house. Easier on his waist line than a box of chocolate and more lasting satisfaction besides. He was very pleased and almost immediately stretched out on the daybed / reading lounger like a contented cat. Only need a reading lamp to complete the area.

He got me two giant bars of dark Swiss chocolate. Bliss.

I cheated and bought the children heart shaped sugar cookies and a candy bar. But I also made a special dessert – banana strawberry sorbet from a recipe I found on Shelley Munro’s blog. It was incredibly easy to make – a bit like a giant frozen smoothie. And what better way to use up 500g of fresh strawberries and celebrate Valentine’s day at the same time than with pink sorbet?

(That’s two new recipes for February if any one is counting )

It’s amazing how much trash you find tucked away in the nooks and crannies, put away because it might be useful one day. Well, guess what? I’M NOT MOVING IT. Throwing. It. Out. There’s plenty more where that stuff came from…