Notes From Home Plate

Why Ohio Gets to Keep Us: Reason #2 – The Weather (No Sarcasm)

Published on by Lisa


Our street in mid-November

The temperature swing in early February from a chilly 20-something to a bold 60 degree day leaves nothing on the table.

What do you call that? Insane? Global warming? A mysterious mood swing of God?

I don’t know and I don’t question it. I just know that it causes me some profound confusion when trying to organize my closet. Furry boots keep out in front, right next to my lavender flip flops in case I need to run errands.

My oldest brother Victor lives out in Los Angeles. It doesn’t surprise me that he lives out west. He is a natural outdoorsy kind of guy. Not like granola tree-hugger kind of man, but on any given day, Victor will be out hiking, thinking about how great the weather is while contemplating which bike path is best for his afternoon exercise.

I try and lie to myself that I’m not jealous, but let’s get real here, people. I am jealous. I am sordidly jealous! The jealous is so acidic, I swear, it tastes like an orange right after you rinsed with Listerine.

But I’m learning to get over it. After all, what’s not to love about my spring allergies? The humidity? The snowblower mandates? Yep – that’s Ohio alright.

It’s taken me quite a while to swallow my warm weather veins and accept the four seasons. It does, after all, make one quite appreciative of those near perfect days where the sun refuses to set, the green of the trees ruffles in peace, and the spring mornings smell as fresh as the country air in Russia.

So, I am glad that Ohio has the four faces of weather. While the LA sun is year round and the constant outdoor activity makes me chartreuse with envy, there’s nothing to compare to the smell of cool autumn days after a dog summer or the long winter walks Nick and I take in the snow and being enveloped in the quiet of our neighborhood.

Thought for the Day: Winter Neighbor Edition

Published on by Lisa

There is special place in heaven for those who are generous with their snow blowers.
For the Lord said, “Those that hath much during a 12 inch snow storm, needs to giveth much.”

Well, that wasn’t really said, but for the three neighbors who all offered their snow blowers on separate occasions, I think there will a warm place in heaven for them.

There is officially no more room to shovel snow on our driveway. The peaks aligning the drive are to tall to put snow on anymore. The snow blower just throws it up in the air with ease.

They go to heaven.

I am happy.

Generosity is good for everyone.

February should be called Share Your Snow Blower Month. And the proceeding month, March, can be Appreciate your Snow Blower Sharing Neighbor Month.

Life Unfolding

Published on by Lisa

It is officially my birthday month and I’m happy to say the festivities to kick off my 30th year of existence are already rolling.

I already received a lovely letter from my hubster on February 1st. I’d like to think he did this out of pure freedom, but let’s get real here folks. He knows what’s coming to him if the first of the month went unacknowledged.

And for those who cannot believe that I take an entire month to celebrate, consider this: there are 52 weeks in the year and 1 day to be happy about yourself just isn’t enough time to celebrate. A month seems appropriate. Once March begins, I zip my mouth and you won’t hear a peep out of me for a long time.

Nick and I had a really nice weekend. It was one of those weekends you’ll likely forget once you move into the week, but it was great nonetheless. What made it so great? Well, here are the reasons:

1) MINIMAL MOVEMENT. We stayed in Cleveland. NO TRAVELS.

2) GREAT COMPANY. Friday night we went to a Happy Hour with a group of 20-30 year olds that belong to the parish. Afterward, the few of us left (hard core partiers like me and Nick who rock till 11:15pm) went to a bar SASA where a friend/colleague of Nick’s was playing guitar and singing. It was really great company and it is (finally) starting to feel like we are forming a great community here in Cleveland.

3) INDIE BOOK STORES. Saturday we went to an independent book store, Visible Voice, where I curled up into a chair and lost myself in the biography of poet Audre Lorde and Nick immersed himself in the history section. Our geekhood cannot be challenged.

4) CINEMA ENTERTAINMENT. We saw Gran Torino. We both really liked it a lot. Two thumbs up from Borchers/Factora-Borchers. It swings between being a deep movie about generational and racial differences to hilarious un-PC dialogue by Clint Eastwood. Highly recommended.

5) SPORTS. Sunday provided a nice 4th quarter for the Cards, but not enough to put Ben Worthlessburger — oops — Ben Roethlisberger away. Still very entertaining though.

6) CANNOLI. As we were exploring Little Italy, we stopped at Corbo’s – a lovely bakery that has freshly made cannoli’s – and since parking was a bit of a hassle, I asked Nick to drop me and drive around the block. So we did. I ran in, bought a little slice of heaven and waited in the f-f-frigid cold. The traffic was a bit heavy and my fingers were starting to go numb. When I finally spotted our car, I ran into the road, forcing Nick to stop in the dead of traffic. (Hey, I was frickin’ freezing.) As my hands defrosted and the sweet bites melted on my face, I barely heard Nick mutter, “Way to illegally cross the street with a cop right in front of you.”

Oh Nick – he’s so lawful.

We’re heading to Russia this coming weekend for Paul Cordonnier’s (Nick’s maternal grandfather) 80th birthday.

When Nick and I talked about what it might be like to grow old, Nick responded with, “It’s gonna be great! Just talk with your friends. You don’t have to give a crap what anything thinks about you…well, I’m kinda like that now, but that’s how old people are. You get to be in your own world. Then you go to lunch! HA!”

You talk with your friends. You don’t give a crap about what people think AND THEN YOU GO TO LUNCH.

For the umpteenth time, we debated the odds of him going deaf in his old age and while this possibility may scare some people, Nick – who is NOT like most people – says he won’t mind a bit. “I’ll just nod when you’re talking to me and I’ll get to just wander around in my own happy world.” To which, I debate, the likelihood of Nick being so hearing impaired that he can’t hear me is slim to none. This is true for two reasons: 1) I refuse to be married to someone who cannot listen to me when I talk and 2) In 40 years or so, when his hearing starts to fade – don’t you think medical technology would have advanced so that all the elderly can hear much better than now?

We have an extremely thrilling ride of life unfolding here.

Letter #5

Published on by Lisa

Dear Veronica,

“One disaster at a time.” Those were the last words told to me by my doctor, one of my partners in this process of trying to make you into a cradling reality. Today, I had a hysterosalpingogram which is fancy word for shooting dye through fallopian tubes to make sure they are clear and functioning properly. Your only Tita, my wonderful sister, spoke her usual positive words when I told her that the discomfort was like getting a papsmear multiplied by fifteen, “Well, you never, ever, ever have to get that done again. Ever.” And when I told her how they stuck cold metal up my Precious and then inserted a long application into me, and then filled me up with a fluid that made me feel like I was either going to die of cramps or explode, she replied, “Mhm. Sounds great – like reverse birth.”

Humor, my dear, will be the key to surviving life. You’ll learn that when you are born.

Your father was made to put on a safety apron because it was in an x-ray room. It was scarlet and tightened around his torso with a big piece of velcro. He looked quite anxious when he noticed stains on it, but he tried to keep me laughing. Or maybe both of us to relax before the horrible test I was about to have.

To distract myself from the pain, I tried to imagine what it might feel like to actually be pregnant with you. It’s worked so many times before. The discomfort and sense of invasion was so thick, I could hardly get away in my thoughts. That’s rare. I’m usually the kind of woman that cannot be followed in the secrecy of my mind. I can usually escape in a moment, but not today.

To make things even more complicated, I have some sort of tear in my – hold onto yourself – my rear end. A fissure, is what it’s called, and feels like I am passing GLASS once a day. Yes, glass. More fiber, water, exercise, yoga. I’m doing everything I can, but the pain is so traumatic, so acute. Today it was so consuming, I cried in the shower for a long time. It’s been weeks of pain, my dear, and with the thoughts that you may or may not be realized only makes me hold tighter to a thread of possibility that may not even be real anymore, but I still hope.

I have to believe that since the dye cleared my tubes, my surgery was successful, and I am surviving some of the most physically painful times of my life that I am a mother in training. I shovel snow, have my tubes inked, write manifestas, and cook mean meals that stick to your ribs. I am woman.

Hear me roar.

If you are ever born inside me, you’ll be the first to hear it.

Love,
Mom

A Very Sporty January Weekend

Published on by Lisa

Nick and I have been busy as usual. We trotted down to the Columbus area this Saturday to watch our cousin, Sue Borchers, coach her Varsity girls basketball team in Granville. We met up with family and had a great time in the stands sitting together. Bill Borchers had a very healthy processed cheese and oversalted tortilla chip snack while Tim, Kelly’s hub, chopped down a questionable looking Reesie cup. With eating habits like that, you’d wonder how Sue manages such a wondrously athletic and successful life.


Sue Borchers coaching her Aces

Nick and I left immediately after the game to head back to Cleveland for my Christmas present – tickets to the US Figure skating Championship! It was freaking cool as all get out. I’d never been to anything like this before and I was moderately excited. But then once you saw the skaters, the amazement went to a whole other level.

As you can imagine, Nick and I have a combined knowledge score of ZERO when it comes to figure skating. Although, I do follow it when it’s on, I have a working and basic intelligence of different jumps, technical elements, and a general Who’s Who among the stars.

The top 25 or so skaters are separated into 4 groups with the lowest scorers going first. These skaters are grand and wonderful but when they fell, fell flat on their stomachs, sprawling in ungraceful splats on the ice and causing big a OOOHHHHHHHH from the crowd. They were allowed five minute warm-ups and it was so neat to watch them practice.

AND THEN the top 10 were on. The difference between groups CANNOT BE STRESSED IN A BLOG. It is drastic, to put it mildly. Even the difference between the top 4 skaters is so radical from the top 6-10 spots. The first difference is the SPEED of the skaters. The top 5 or so skate at a speed that makes me wonder if they are all on crack, or some version of crack for figure skaters. They are so much faster than the other skaters, it’s unbelieveable. When they fall, it STILL looks graceful. And I cannot imagine how controlled and strong they have to be to get up and keep going with the world watching them.

The winner was a student from Bowling Green! GO OHIO!

Nick and picked our favorites and they changed every 20 minutes or so. (We have no loyalties…) and when we became snobby enough to criticize and offer feedback after a performance, it was in the sophisticated manner of, “Can you believe she fell twice? Get it together, girl!” Or Nick’s in depth analysis, “Is it just me, or did she just seem kinda tired?”

Regardless, it was a magnificent gift. I suggest that, someday, you attend an event that you normally would not get tickets to, but you like watching on television. Seeing it in person brings it to a whole other level.


Not Sue Borchers

Older, Maybe Wiser

Published on by Lisa

Here are two Christmas pictures taken in Russia. One was last year and the other was this year. Other than the fact I am in the 2008 pictures, do you see any differences other than the gifts we’re holding?

I guess we’re slowly aging. That’s good news.

I just hope we’re wiser.

Self-Disclosure Day

Published on by Lisa

For those familiar with email and all things internet, you know that once in a while, a little list floats around that asks you to tell everyone some facts about yourself. Since today I had a lot to accomplish and was looking for a way to procrastinate, I decided to participate in the 25 Facts About You, which has been circulating on Facebook. I have asked Nick for about 8 years to do one of these and the likelihood of him doing one is about the same chance of my coming home one day and seeing him knitting me a scarf.

Some things just aren’t going to happen. Ever.

TWENTY FIVE FACTS ABOUT ME

25. I’m seriously afraid of what people think when I spend time on things like this.

24. Being a writer is the most difficult, painful, vulnerable, exhilarating gift imaginable. After love, of course.

23. My family is the root of all things.

22. I think people romanticize the green on the other side, the past, and the USA.

21. Living and traveling to other countries is the only way for me. I despise tourism.

20. I think most people, even on their best days, short-change themselves. Nelson Mandela said it best. We’re most afraid of our brilliant potential.

19. I drive quite aggressively and am working on taming my frustration with Ohio drivers.

18. Some of my biggest fears are drowning, living in complacency, and losing touch with God.

17. Laughter is my thing. I believe in it, use it, always want more of it. It’s magical.

16. I cannot explain in words how much I am against WalMart, Best Buy, and Nestle.

15. Nick is my gravity. Our story is one of my writing projects, but I’m not yet ready to share it with the world.

14. I spent 4 months of 2002 working on growing my patience when engaged in small talk with strangers.

13. I believe every person should live at least one year in a “developing” country. I think people will find that their hearts need more work than the nations do.

12. I own several hundred books. I’ve read 1 or 2 from cover to cover.

11. In the closet: competitive, perfectionist, linguist, freakishly astute memory

10. I take a deep breath when people misuse the word “literally” when they mean “really” or “actually.” Example, on ESPN, the sports commentator said, “Yes, and they literally killed the other team on the scoreboard.” NO! No one was killed! Do people not know what “literally” means?!

9. I love purple, scarlet, sage, light green, and turquoise.

8. When I hear Last Dance by Donna Summer, I feel like I have enough joy to share with the world.

7. Strawberries and vanilla any day of the week over chocolate.

6. I quit pretending that my birthday isn’t a big deal to me. I celebrate the entire month of February. (No lie.)

5. I’ve had two surgeries in 9 years to remove ovarian tumors. Benign.

4. A few years ago, I spent $200 on ebay for the original My So-Called Life DVD set and never batted an eyelash. Jordan Catalano is, like, the highschool mythical god every female had in her teen life.

3. Oxygen is to swimmers as New York City is to Lisa.

2. I dream and think a lot about the things I love most: relationships, fresh bread, Seattle, dancing, singing, family reunions, 4th of July, the water, Strawberry Kiwi Propel, running, boxing, tennis, sports clothes, independent book stores, flying, being clean, touch football, simplicity, faith, retreats, cleaning my windshield, Greenwich Village, Gloria Anzaldua, and painting. I adore kissing.

1. My life goal is to be a Renaissance woman.

2009 is MY Time

Published on by Lisa

For about six or seven years, I began making themes, not resolutions, for the new year. Themes must be well-researched, meaningful, and personal. Each year, I choose a theme that encompasses my overall goal or wishes for the upcoming new year. Here are a few to illustrate my point:

2000: Boom
Self-explanatory. Beginning a new millenium is a gi-normous deal and, back then, was as single as a dollar bill and intended to live out my college days in quite the explosive manner at Dana’s (a dive bar on Montgomery Road in Cincinnati). Oh, how I did.

2001: Onward and Upward
Ahh yes, the XU graduating year. I was off to live in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps near Seattle and fleeing the midwest in search of my vocation and identity. I didn’t realize that those are often life long journeys, but aimed my sights high and headed west.

la…la…la…

2007: Spectacular
All decisions had to have the high probability of this result.

2008: Faithfulness
Ye be not confused with fidelity! Faithfulness was about a vow to keep true to myself and to stay close to what I knew to be true: 1) All cars are made to be broken 2) God exists 3) You can’t win the lottery unless you play

2009: Make 2009 Your Time
A few weeks ago, my left arm handcuffed to the couch (kidding, I was in surgery recovery period), I watched an absurd amount of television and movies. As my eyes began to glaze over and dry out yet again from the winter air, I perked to attention as I heard a commercial speak into my living room, “Don’t you think it’s your time? Make 2009 your time and quit smoking…”

My ear canals closed after the word “time” and I quickly dismissed the fact that it was a commercial to help people stop smoking and answered the first question, “Don’t you think it’s your time?”

YES! It IS my time!

Make 2009 your time.

I don’t smoke and that’s irrelevant. The larger point is that 2009 is going to be MY time. The time of unprecedented goals and unimagined success. It’s all going to start this year, my friends.

I shared my new theme with Nick who is always up for hearing my new philosophies. “That’s great, babe!” Which is the exact same response when I cook a new recipe, bring home a new box of Texas toast, paint a new abstract painting, share with him a freshly polished poem, clean off the coffee table, announce I’m finally ready to go somewhere, load the address into Moses (our GPS), remind him my birthday is coming up (2.27), inform him that I scored outrageously high on an informal internet IQ test, got a new job interview, or stapled a new calendar to our bulletin board in our office. Whatever I do, to Nick, it’s “great!”

So, if you watch you televisions closely and hear an anti-smoking commercial, try and find the one where you hear someone tell you to, “make 2009 your time.”

You’ll see. It’s empowering.

“It’s great!”