My husband has a Pre-Vet bachelor's degree, a master's degree in Veterinary Parasitology, and a PhD in Medical Microbiology.
My mother has a bachelor's degree, my father a master's in Education.
My sisters Beth and Esther have degrees in Spanish and Midwifery, respectively.
My little brother is in his last year of medical school, before he begins a cardiology residency.
My three sisters-in-law (Todd's sisters) have between them three bachelor's degree; two of them have already started work towards their master's, one is in the process of applying for a master's program.
My father-in-law has a law degree.
Of my six brothers-in-law, one has a law degree, one a master's in accounting, one a psychology degree, one a bachelor's in social work, one is in medical school (like my brother), one is working on his PhD.
Is it any wonder that I feel like the least educated person in my family? It's because I am!
The idea of why we do this to ourselves is on my mind during finals week as I wrap up this 21-credit hour semester. While I should be revising for my Shakespeare 442 final tomorrow, I am instead reflecting on the alternatives* -- what I would be doing if I wasn't battering my mind against religious dissent in the Middle Ages (and other topics of that ilk). I remind myself that I might be the least educated person in my immediate circle -- surrounded as I am by those with multiple graduate degrees -- I am also accomplishing something that three quarters of the population will have neither the opportunity, nor perhaps the ability or desire to accomplish. All of this work will be worth it when I model for my kids the value of education, and when they see the legacy they have been left by their parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles.
*And stuffing my face with chocolate. That goes hand-in-hand with finals.
We went to a living nativity tonight. Libby is now desperate to convert to the church that put it on. "So, how exactly do you join a church?" she has asked me at least half a dozen times.
"I was wondering," she said, "why there are only two tickets?"
"Because just you and I are going," I replied.
"WOO HOO!" was her response.
On the way home, we belted out a duet of "Silent Night" which was exquisite...ly painful to hear.
"It's not a competition for who does more to help around the house. But if it was, I'd be winning."
We both think we do the most. Nothing will change our minds.
Kids to school. American Women Poets. Current Political Ideology. Black Women Writers. Presentation. Errands. Medieval Drama. Libby's strings concert. Order pizza. Jacques is two! Beer. Glee with the kids. Night night.
Barb got me a Baby Bjorn, and after a tense few minutes getting it adjusted, I think that C really likes it.
My darling niece, Evan, asked me to please blog, because -- she says -- that's the only way she knows what's going on in our lives. Apart from facebook, of course! Anyway, I thought I would see if I could manage a photo and a few sentences every day until the end of the year.
When I woke up from my illness-induced nap, the snowflakes coming down were as big as pillows.
I made a cake for our 14-year wedding anniversary, but Libby's cat licked the icing off one side.
Oh well, you can't win them all.
National Lampoon's Vacation was on TV, and Youngest and I were sitting on the couch watching it, when I said, "The 80's had some good music." He nodded noncommittally, staring at the TV, where a young Anthony Michael Hall was paging through a nudie mag. Then he asked, "You know what would be *so* cool?"
"What?"
"If I could somehow travel back to the time of the 80's."
"Ah. Yeah."
"And if I had like, 80's clothes and all the 80's stuff, and knew how to talk like they did in the 80's."
"Mmhm."
"Because then, maybe I would know what it's like to like 80's music."
Many early modernist homes strongly emphasized the horizontal, like the the broad eaves of the Prairie Style in the Midwest, Mies' Farnsworth House, and the California houses of Richard Neutra. However, this luxury was unavailable to architects building in New York City. Unsurprisingly, their homes were much more vertical. Three striking examples were designed by William Lescaze (1896–1969), better known for the PSFS Building in Philadelphia.
- William Lescaze House, 211 East 48th Street (1933-34). The home he built for himself was the first
International Style house in New York City. In April 2001, its owners put it up for rent at the bargain price of $20,000 per month. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1980 and designated as a New York City Landmark (PDF) in 1976.
- R.C. Kramer House, 32 East 74th Street (1935)
- Edward A. Norman House, 124 East 70th Street (1940-41)
In 1934-35, designer and architect Morris B. Sanders built a similar house at 219 East 49th Street. The Morris B. Sanders Studio & Apartment was designated as a New York City Landmark (PDF) in 2008. All four of the buildings remain standing.
