I'm not liking that book. It's like being in traffic that gradually slows down to a crawl ... then you see the lights ahead, and hear the sirens ... somebody's someone is hurt. You wish there were an exit between here and there ... you wish you didn't have to drive by ... you avert your head and wish others could too ... you wish the ambulance God speed ... you wish. And you say a prayer.

The book thing is interesting. I don't read to make myself feel good. Rarely do I find something to read that makes me smile ... or laugh. I don't really expect that from a book or story. I guess I read to answer a question ... what was that like ... what would that be like. And of course I read for information ... that's a different kind of reading.

What I've noticed lately, in my own little world, is I've started being more interested in the dynamics at play for a woman at work. I've been pretty much at home for the past 20 years. It is surprising when I look at that number. What have I been doing at home? Other than cleaning toilets and folding stacks of laundry ... running errands ... running a household ... I've managed sub contractors who replaced our windows, roof and kitchen countertops ... we did the floors, sheetrock (pay the guys to come do that ... it is tedious beyond belief and that very fine dust merges with your dna ... it takes years to shed that stuff), paint,paint,paint and landscaping. I have replaced the light fixtures in our house and most of the plumbing fixtures ... I know how to install toilets (and I am good at it!) I've learned how to re-upholster furniture (hard work, but extremely satisfing) and sat on or chaired innumerable PTA/childrens activities/events/committees. I've learned how to cook pretty well - probably the most surprising metamorphasis of all - I love to cook and see people I love enjoy meals together. Grocery shopping is one of my favorite activities ... and resetting my pantry and refrigerator is better than a spa day ... yeah, really. I have turned out to be a woman who prefers the quiet of my own home. I haven't thought very seriously about women working outside their homes during that time.

Someone was talking favorably about their colleage, who is a woman, and because she is a woman that became a focus for someone who joined the conversation. That annoyed me. The woman does what she does well and I bet she does it while wondering if her children got their bedtime story and ... did they floss ... does their blankie smell sweet ... is it okay for her to follow a few of her dreams ... . I may be way off track, but I think women measure the cost of their awayness, while for men, there is a societal expectation that they will work ... and maybe even long and hard. Men don't have to feel guilty for working. It is true that most women I know, do feel guilty for working outside their homes. See how I automatically qualify that? Women working outside their homes ... men working outside their homes sounds like yardwork. How far are we away from the idea of the man being the primary bread winner? Sometimes Dads would show up at play groups (yeah, everyone was very curious about what his she did ... where was she ... why was he here?) Yeah, of course some of those women eventually took little jobs and in this economy that paycheck may be a big help.

I am very sensitive to this particular issue because someone where I sort of work ... part-time, but wholehearted ... someone has subtly but clearly implied that I have used my womanness to work a sweetheart deal for myself. HAH! He says I have done something inappropriate and when I counter with the fact that others have this very same consideration as part of their employment he insinuates that it is somehow different because I am a woman. He threw up some road blocks. I went around.

I am a middle aged woman. I like being older - I like the perspective it affords. I've been married to the father of my five children for 30 years. I like that we are people who can weather the storms. I like that I can sit beside him for long periods of time without the least bit (okay usually not much ... I am a bit cranky)of aggravation. (Sitting in that room, last month for hours on end, with strangers, I was at times extremely aggravated with their finger tapping throat clearing chair shifting idioscrancies ... and they likely felt the same way about me) I've done my time in the carpools and even cheering beside the pool. I've spent enough money to build a very nice pool on flight training. I did that because I wanted to teach a few people how to fly. I like how that kind of stretching builds a person. I thought that would be more meaningful to me then working on my tan.

Can women fly well? I've flown with only one other woman. She is a good pilot. We spent the cruise portion of the flight talking about her concerns as a new mother. She laughs at me when I say I like the tower guys voice ... She teases me about who will be controlling this or that sector. She's trying to help me understand how wonderful crock pots are. People at the airports notice when we get out of the plane ... they wonder where the pilot is. The customers are asked before hand if they will feel okay with two women pilots ... we don't want to freak anybody out. Were they paying attention when either one of us set the airplane down oh so lovely?

I'm going to teach some other people how to do that ... maybe even another woman.

Does that sound bitchy?