Hello and Happy November! This is a busy month for us - lots of family birthdays, anniversaries, and of course - Thanksgiving!!!!
Today for instance, is my sister Nancy's birthday. I won't see her, since she lives in California, but I talked to her over the weekend and sent her a Facebook message today (sadly, I did not have my act together in time to actually send her a card. I may be the only one who minds). She is excited because she is accompanying my brother-in-law on his business trip to Orlando, Florida. While he does his work thing, she is going to spend a couple of days catching up with a close friend who lives there. So it's pretty certain she's going to have a good birthday week.
Of course, we are also at the official start of NaBloPoMo We'll see how I do this year - last year I did manage to complete the challenge for the entire month. I already have a short list of things I want to write about, so that's something to help me get started.
And it's the second day of Gratitude Week. Today we were prompted to write about gratitude for something in the past. I gave this some thought, because there is a lot to choose from, but I decided that I am grateful for my education. Our family was poor - I mean actually poor, where we sometimes were living with relatives, barely had Christmas (though we always had something and it was wonderful!), etc. But my parents valued education, and though they never went beyond high school as far as formal education, they were the type who were so interested in so many different things and so well-read that they could hold their own among those with many more years of schooling. When it came time for each of us to go to college, we were fortunate to be able to get scholarships and loans, and go to the schools we wanted to attend. Of all of our first cousins - who were from families doing much better financially - my sisters and I were the only ones to attend college. This was a source of true pride to my parents.
Elementary school was up and down for me, depending where we lived. We moved around a lot, and sometimes I would start at a new school and be ahead of the rest of the kids in my class, and it would be really boring for me. I hated high school, though I got good grades. But wow did I hate it. The cliques, the social crap, and classmates who seemed so much younger to me that they were barely interesting.
But when I got to college, it started to work well for me. I attended a small, liberal arts college run by Jesuit priests. From the first day of the first class, I remember that what was emphasized was that we learned to *think.* At first, this made no sense to me - didn't I already know how to think? Didn't everyone? Of course, what they meant was that they wanted us to develop our critical thinking skills, because that would be what would make us able to be successful in the world.
The older I get, the more grateful I am for this opportunity.