This, That and the Other Thing

This morning when I went outside to grab the newspaper, I could see the morning star.  Had to rush in and get Little Brother away from his breakfast so he could see it too.  (He thought it was worth it.)

Speaking of breakfast, Little Brother is a major-league toast eater.  He'll go through 6 to 8 slices each morning.  But that wasn't enough to get him through until snack time.  Now I serve him 1/2 cup of vanilla yogurt before the toast.  For snack, he has fruit and a string cheese.  He says mornings are much better now.

I am doing my best to resist the open bag of candy corn that's sitting in my kitchen.  But I've got some Count Chocula in the house...my kids had never eaten it before so I just HAD to get a box.

Generally I am not a flavored-coffee person.  But I highly recommend Godiva Coffee's Pumpkin Spice.  It pairs equally well with candy corn AND Count Chocula.  Note to self:  go back to Wegman's and get another bag of this coffee before it disappears!

Looking forward to tonight's activities.  I schlep the kids around a lot to things they do.  But tonight's event is really for me.  It's the first rehearsal for the Festival of Lessons and Carols in the parish where Little Brother attends school.   Little Brother will be in the children's chorus, and Big Brother will play various musical instruments.  I'll be singing and playing guitar.  I have no illusions of having the kind of musical ability that many of the other singers/musicians possess.  This is an amazingly talented bunch of people!  But I find that I sing and play better when I'm challenged by being among musicians who are better than me.  Time to stretch!

I don't get to bring my guitar tonight, though.  It's just a vocal rehearsal for the first day, which kind of freaks me out because my guitar is definitely my security blanket.  It's hard for me to sing when I don't have something for my hands to do.

I'm still hoping against hope that I find the earring I lost the other day.  It's not a valuable or expensive earring, but it was a really cute pair of earrings and I liked them a lot.  I should have an earring more than 8 days before I lose it, I think.

Last night I took Middle Sister shopping.  She had a really weird shopping list:  shoes for the Homecoming dance and a blanket sleeper (known in this house as a "woobie.")  The sleeper is for her Halloween costume.  The last time I saw her wear one of those, she was 4!  After trying on a lot of shoes with insanely high heels, platforms, sparkles and the whole nine yards, she settled on a beautiful and feminine pair of black silk pumps.  Grown-up shoes and little-kid pajamas, all in the same shopping trip.  I guess that's life with a teenager.

Advanced Math

Math has never been my strong point.  I managed to get through college by fulfilling my math requirement with "Introduction to BASIC."  And I always send the kids to TheDad when they need help with math homework.  He had several semesters of calculus, so he's way above my pay grade in math.

But math has been plaguing me all day today.  First, I got an email from my New York Cousin, who wanted to know how many servings one of my favorite potluck recipes (Dr. Pepper Baked Beans) would make.

That became a word problem:  How many 1/2-cup side-dish servings do you get from a dish that fills about 3/4 of a 4-quart cooker?

For the record, I'm guessing 20 to 25.

Figuring all that out was a lot easier than helping Little Brother with his math homework this afternoon.  Unlike me, he has always been good at math (he gets it from TheDad).  I don't know if the school changed its math curriculum this year or what, but suddenly he's having a really hard time figuring out what to do with the homework problems.  "I don't get how to do this," is a daily refrain around here.  He used to whiz through his math homework, and before this year, my biggest concern was getting him to slow down enough to write the numbers legibly.

I'm not very good at helping him with the homework, either.  I can add, subtract, multiply and divide.  I can even manage fractions and decimals, usually.  But they're asking the kids to do things in strange ways.  I can find the answer, but not using their method.  It's strictly "Old Math" for me.

The Eyes Have It

...and it's pink.

No, not breast-cancer-awareness pink (ironic when you consider that Susan G. Komen foundation funnels money to Planned Parenthood--and their contraception and abortion industry is linked to higher rates of breast cancer).

Just plain old pink.  As in pink-eye.

Don't worry; I'm not contagious.  I am 100% certain that this is an allergic reaction.  Unfortunately, I am 0% sure of the cause.

Yesterday I went to my Secular Franciscan meeting about an hour early so I could catalog some new books for the fraternity's library.  When I opened up the meeting room, I could smell something--kind of perfumey, but nothing I could put my finger on.  Being asthmatic, I made sure I had my inhaler and worried that as I spent the next few hours in the room, I might need to use it.  Then, after looking for candles and plug-in air fresheners and other likely suspects and finding nothing, I opened the 2 small windows that could be opened and got to work.

Within the hour my nose started running.  At least that symptom is manageable.  Partway through the meeting, my eyes started itching.  By the time I locked up the room after the last person left, I looked like I'd spent the entire afternoon crying.

I knew I needed Benadryl, but I had to take Little Brother to a track-and-field awards ceremony last night and was afraid to take Benadryl before driving somewhere, so I toughed it out until I got home.  It didn't do much good; this morning, my eyes are still red and swollen and painful.

It'll pass.  It's an inconvenience and big discomfort, but it'll pass.  What I really want to know is:  what was in that room that caused this?

Sweet!

Fall is my favorite season.  I love the colors at this time of year!  So I loved the "Real Life Adventures" comic in this morning's paper.

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Normally, this is not one of my favorite comic strips.  Dads/husbands are usually portrayed as idiotic buffoons.  Maybe that's why I loved today's strip even more!

Reelin' In the Years

Middle Sister had four of her friends here earlier, and they were all lining up to primp in front of the bathroom mirror before I drove them to the football game.  As she left the room, one of them asked, "Is there a guitar pick in your bathroom?"

She never asked about the Army Guy, who stands only about an inch away from the guitar pick.  He's been guarding the bathroom for at least 3 years now--possibly more.  It's been so long that he's part of the landscape, and when I clean the bathroom I just put him back on the counter, in the same place he was before.

Sure, it would be easy enough to carry the Army Guy over to Little Brother's room.  It's only across the hall.  For that matter, I could just toss the Army Guy in the trash can.  Earlier this week, I cleaned out the family-room closet and toy box, and boxed up all the Army Guys along with the other stuff Little Brother no longer uses.  My guess is, he'll never notice it's gone.  After a suitable interval, I will donate the usable toys to our school's pre-K or Goodwill.  (Tuesday's good.)

I can't get rid of everything, though.  When I pulled the battered copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar off the bookshelf, there was no way I was putting that into the donation box.  The same goes for the entire "Little Critter" series (Middle Sister was a big fan) and The Little Engine That Could, which we memorized during Big Brother's childhood and hid during Little Brother's.  We just couldn't go down that road (track) again.

Some people have scrapbooks, all beautifully decorated and labeled, full of photos of their kids.  I've got their entire libraries, as well as a few Army Guys, Matchbox cars, and an American Girl doll.

"The things you think are useless I can't understand..."

The Disorganized Student

I was very happy to see that the fourth-graders were required to have "trapper" binders, loose leaf paper, and pocket folders this year. Little Brother has a good handle on academics but not on organization.  In his school, the fourth- and fifth-graders share two teachers for the major subjects, so there is some traveling between classrooms and getting used to two different sets of expectations.  It's a good way to ease the kids into the middle-school mode.

I figured that since his teachers asked for a particular type of binder, they'd be devoting some time, early in the school year, to good use of this organizational tool.

And week after week, I'd see him come home with all kinds of loose papers stuffed into one of the pockets inside his binder, which also contained his homework planner, pencil case, 200 sheets of looseleaf, 5 dividers, and 3 pocket folders.  The looseleaf?  Unused.  Dividers?  Divided nothing.  Pocket folders?  Empty, except for one which had a paper from Spanish class inside it.  Other Spanish papers were stuffed into that same pocket that held Scholastic book order forms, tests I'd signed, and a homework project due September 27--completed, but never handed in.

One month into the school year, it wasn't looking like his teachers were doing anything to make sure the students were using the supplies they'd been required to have.

So this morning, since there was no school, I had Little Brother empty out that binder.  He recycled all the papers he no longer needed (most of them).  He put all the Spanish papers into the Spanish folder.  He's already sort of in the habit of keeping Spanish stuff together, as that teacher encourages that habit in class.  And we labeled one pocket folder "Take Home" and "Hand In."  He will put anything to come home in the "Take Home" side.  When it's finished (homework complete, tests signed, forms filled in) it will go to the "Hand In" side.  We'll see if this works, and I can reinforce this system at home.

We labeled the dividers too, though there's nothing to divide at the moment.

I hope this helps him.  Next step:  dealing with the "flash cards" that are floating around his backpack.  I like that the teachers encourage the kids to make flash cards when they need to remember important terms or lists.  But they do no good when they wind up in the bottom of the backpack, in a jumble of subjects and topics!  Does anyone have ideas for how he can organize and carry these index cards around?  It's not like he can put a 3X5 file box in his backpack.

I really think he'd be better off with an accordion file, but I still think that teachers require things for a reason.  There will be conferences with the teachers in mid-November, so I'll give this another month and see how we roll.  If it's not working out, I'll talk with the teachers about it then.

Ideas for organizing a smart but scatterbrained 9-year-old will definitely be appreciated!

Bright as Butterfly Wings

No matter how sad the day (and it was a very sad day) there are always those bright spots that help get you through it. I'm grateful for these:

• hogging a baby (did I say hogging? I meant hugging. I would never hog a baby. No, not me) whom I'd only seen in pictures up until now, and who was so absolutely good-natured about being passed around among cousins who couldn't wait to give him a squeeze 
• cousins.  So many cousins.  12 out of the 15 in my generation were there
• lots of reminiscing, lots of comfort carbs
• the chance to rib my dad about the very fashionable (in 1974) plaid sport coat he wore in one of the many old photos
• Snoopy, hand-me-downs, and good news about cousin John's cancer treatment using his own stem cells
• a phone call from a friend to find out how I was getting through the day--and to let me know that the Irish were winning the game
• and coming home to a lovely sympathy card that a teenager in the church folk group cared enough to send

After the Mass, we gathered outside the church while my aunt, who teaches her first-graders a fascinating science lesson each year using Monarch butterflies, explained that in Mexico (the endpoint of these butterflies' migration) there is a legend that if you whisper a message to a Monarch, it will carry that message to a loved one in Heaven as it flies.  She and her oldest grandson then released a big bunch of butterflies into the air.  Many loving messages went up to Uncle Pat with those butterflies.

And then there's that moment that makes you laugh instead of cry--and you always need at least one of those moments on that kind of day.  The priest explained that when Uncle Pat was baptized, the Paschal candle was nearby, burning brightly.  Then he gestured toward the Paschal candle standing near the casket.  Little Brother turned to me and said, "It's the same one?"

Going the Distance

It's time my kids learned something about doing the right thing with the right attitude. It's not a lecture I want to deliver, but I think I'm going to have to. The thing is, while the lecture is needed, I don't think I'm going to be able to manage a graceful delivery. And since TheDad is out of town for the next couple of days, I'll have to fly solo on this one.

My uncle passed away Monday night. Until very recently, we didn't know just how sick he was. While we had mentioned a few times to them that he was in the hospital, kids are kids and teenagers are teenagers and some things just don't get through their heads very well, especially when they concern a relative who lives 2 hours away and whom we've seen 3 times in the past year.
I gave Big Brother, who's away at college (but not TOO far away) a heads-up on Monday evening when I heard that Uncle Pat had taken a turn for the worse. I hate to deliver that kind of news via text message, but there's just no good way to do it. Texting him to say "call home" isn't any better, really. And he was as gracious as you can get in a text, commenting "that's not good" and "let me know if you hear anything else." Tuesday morning, after I heard the news and dithered about how I was going to let him know, I got back a :[ and "ok." For him, that's as compassionate as it's going to get, I guess.
I have the feeling that my daughter, when I told her, was busy calculating just how many soccer games/soccer practices/trips to the mall/bonfires with friends she'll have to miss to attend the out-of-town funeral this weekend.
Little Brother is going to absolutely blow a gasket when he is informed that he won't be playing soccer on Saturday. To his credit, he did give me a hug and kiss when I told him the sad news.
Meanwhile, I grieve for my aunt and my cousins and my cousin's kids, two of whom are infants and who will have to grow up with no memory of their grandfather. I grieve for my dad, who has lost all 3 of his younger siblings to cancer. I mourn the loss of a veteran, a firefighter, the "fun uncle."
May you rest in peace, Uncle Pat. And may I find the grace and the words to guide my children through this time of mourning.

The Blunt Truth

Don't miss this on the feast of St. Francis--The Crescat puts into words, in no uncertain terms, the real deal about the "patron of animals and ecology."

Stop selling St. Francis short and read this article.

Pretty pictures

Big thanks to the very talented Esther (the Catholic Mom in Hawaii) for my beautiful new header image!  I had to redecorate to show it off to its full advantage.

It's a Catholic High School

I wish my high school had offered these opportunities!  Below is a quote from the daily newsletter at Middle Sister's school, describing the Campus Ministry's new activities for the year.  I'm impressed.

1. Communion Service is offered daily at 7:40 AM in the Chapel.
2. Weekly on Thursday at 2:35 PM there will be an opportunity for whoever is interested to come together to share experiences, ideas and prayer pertaining to the past Sunday’s Readings.
3. Weekly on Tuesday at 2:35 PM there will be Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament.  If you are interested in signing up to be a guardian for 5, 10, 15 minutes please let the Campus Ministry Director know.  Exposition will take place from 2:35 PM until 3:00 PM.  Remember, you do not have to sign up to be present for one minute or 25 minutes.
4. There will be a Book of Intentions in the Chapel for anyone who wishes to place their personal intentions in the Book. 

I'm thankful to the Campus Ministry, the principal, and anyone else who was instrumental in bringing this to the school.

One Up on Dad

Remember the dad in the movie "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and how he used Windex for everything?  My dad is the same way--with Brown Soap.

He swears by the stuff, and I'll bet that my brother and sister have a bar of it in their homes, just like I do.  It's probably in the basement, but although supermarkets sell this soap in the laundry section, we don't use it for laundry.

Dad has many ways to use this soap, but the one that has stuck with us kids is its anti-itch properties.  If Dad even sees poison ivy, he rushes home and scrubs down with Brown Soap.  I've really put it to the test this summer, what with the Kamikaze Mosquitoes that have taken up residence around here.

How to use Brown Soap on itches:  Get an edge of  your bar of soap wet.  Rub the wet bar of soap on the poison ivy or bug bites.  Do not rinse.

Little Brother picked up a few mosquito bites at soccer practice tonight.  After he went to bed, he wandered out of his room asking me for anti-itch medicine.  Instead of pulling out a tube of hydrocortisone cream, I took a page from Dad's playbook.

"Go into the bathroom and get a little soap from the dispenser.  Rub it on the bug bite and don't wash it off."

"Hey, that really works," he observed a minute or so later.

Yes, it does.  And a little extra soap on that kid won't hurt either.

If It's From the Fightin' Irish, It Can't Be Junk Mail

Little Brother noticed the pile of junk mail I'd tossed on the table (with the intention of ignoring it for a while before tossing it into the recycling bin.)  "Notre Dame!  You got mail from Notre Dame!"

"They're just asking for money.  You can throw it out," I told him.

He misunderstood.  "They're sending you MONEY?"

"No, they're asking me for money.  You can go ahead and open it if you want."

"Why don't you send them some?" he asked while tearing into the envelope.

"Because right now I send money to your school, Middle Sister's high school and Big Brother's college.  I don't have extra to give to Notre Dame right now."

Inside, he found a letter and a reply envelope.  He peeked in.  It was empty.

"Awww--a trick envelope!  I hate those!"

In Costume

I'm thinking in theater terms these days, since Little Brother has been rehearsing for a community-theater production of MAME, which opens on Friday.  Now that they're in dress rehearsals, I've been scrambling through his wardrobe assembling costumes.  And that's exactly what I was doing for myself yesterday afternoon.

I had to find myself a costume for Back to School Night.  And then I had to get into character.

While I love "back to school" time, I can't stand Back to School Night.  It's not so bad at the high school, though I still do call it the Handbag Fashion Show.  (When a nickname works, you go with it.)  Because of the school's block scheduling, a semester at a time, I have to attend two of these a year.  But with 700+ students, it's easy to get lost in the crowd while still running into a few parents of my kids' friends or teammates as we wander by looking for the next classroom to visit.

At the elementary school, though, Back to School Night is another matter.

There's a reason I don't do theater.  I'm just not cut out for this sort of thing.

It really doesn't matter what I wear to Back to School Night.  It's not going to make a difference.  What's important on that day is hearing what my child's teachers have to say:  their goals for the year, their expectations of the students, the ins and outs of the classroom routines and policies.

It really doesn't matter that I will never be part of that group of squealing moms who just saw each other at the 3 PM car line, but who act like this is the first time in years they've reunited.  Not only don't I have the clothes (or the handbag) to fit in there, but I don't squeal.

It really doesn't matter. I keep telling myself that, but I'm not convinced.

I was grateful, when we all proceeded to the cafegymatorium for a slide show and PTA meeting, that a parent whose older children are friends of my older children sat near me; we had a few moments to chat and she kindly offered to give Middle Sister a ride home from soccer games if it was ever necessary.  Then we both observed how very young the parents around us looked; we were both there with our youngest kids, and in both our families there's a 10-year age gap between oldest and youngest.

Back to School Night humbles me.  I guess that's a good thing.  I'm not a mover and a shaker in the PTA world; never was, never will be.  Schmoozing and small talk don't come easy to me, and we're not even going to talk about my wardrobe.

Walking back to the theater across the street where dress rehearsal was in progress, I couldn't wait to stop at my car, ditch my shoes and put on my comfortable sneakers.  I grabbed my favorite "Grumpy" sweatshirt in case it was cold inside.

Costume shed, I stepped back into my familiar role as Mom.

Ten Years After

Five years ago, I reminisced about where I was, what I did, what I thought, on that terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

There's not much to add to that.

Little Brother's teacher talked to his class yesterday about 9/11.  Most of those kids, like Little Brother, had not yet been born, and they came into a world that was forever changed and defined by that day.  Little Brother has been "processing" this lesson for the past two days.  Every now and again he approaches me and mentions something his teacher said.  Then we talk about it some more.  It's been good, to do that.

Tomorrow I will be at a rehearsal with Little Brother and Middle Sister, who's the stagehand for this play.  The plan is to rehearse from 1 to 4 and then take a break to go to the park next door to the theatre for a 9/11 memorial ceremony.  After that, potluck supper and more rehearsal.

It's good that we should pause in our day, to remember.

We're blessed to be able to do that.  We're blessed to be free to do that.  We're blessed to be alive to do that.

For those who gave their lives that day, and for those who have given their lives over the past 10 years to fight for freedom, I pray:  Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon them.  May they rest in peace, and may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

Her Logic Escapes Me

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Middle Sister was complaining last night about the fit of her new soccer uniform.  Apparently, the tops are cut small and the bottoms are cut large, for the pear-shaped soccer player.  (Note to manufacturers:  not too many soccer players are pear-shaped.)

She was worried about the shorts being too big, so I offered to see if I could take a tuck in the waistband or something so they wouldn't fall down during the game.

"You CAN'T do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because they're not MINE.  That would be like, vandalizing or something."

Things I Forgot Over the Summer

It's not only the kids who regress academically over the summer.  I'm really surprised what I've forgotten during the 2 1/2 months of summer vacation.

This is probably due to all the "Phineas & Ferb" exposure.  I've spent way too much time wondering where those kids go to school that gives them 104 days of summer vacation.  I know that's more than I could take.

I've been refreshing my memory this week regarding the ins and outs of getting through the school year.

Little boys who have been cooped up in school all day because they can't play outside at lunch during the Everlasting Rainstorm that is September around here are WAY more likely to bounce off the walls in the after-school hours than little boys who have been in the house all day on a rainy summer day.  Fortunately, little boys don't mind playing outside when it's drizzling.

School buses are great examples of Murphy's Law.  When you're outside all nice and early (and it's raining) they're late.  When you're running late, they're early.

I should really make part of Little Brother's packed lunches the night before.  He's not a sandwich fan, but he likes "ham-alami."  Here's the recipe:  Take a slice of salami.  Fold a slice of ham to go on top.  Add another slice of salami.  Roll up.  3 "ham-alamis" in a container is good for lunch, along with another container of fruit and a snack.  I find salami a little disgusting at 7 AM.

And then there's the pleasant surprises, like when I was cutting up brownies for lunchboxes today.  Some of those brownies never made it to the lunchbox.  Brownies go great with that first cup of coffee in the mornings.  Breakfast of champions!  (Just don't tell Little Brother.)

Geometry and Physics, All Rolled into One

It's probably mean to be laughing at this, but I am finding Little Brother & the Street Urchins hilarious as they try to retrieve a 4-inch diameter Nerf basketball from the exact center of a 21-foot diameter pool.  I'm not sure how long the pole is, but I know their arms are too short to make this work.

This is what happened after I sent them to play OUTSIDE, since they were tearing up my family room.  9-year-old boys denied "after-lunch recess" because of rain get pretty rambunctious, let me tell you.

(That's Little Brother in the center, with pole.  It comes within a few inches of the ball, but not quite far enough.)

Finder of All Lost Things

Yesterday I got a text message from my son at college.  He rarely actually calls home, and we do communicate via text, but generally I'm the one initiating the conversation.  So it was surprising to hear from him first.

Until I read the message:  "Did I bring my brown flipflops home?"

He had come home for a brief hour before Hurricane Irene blew through, to pick up work boots, bottled water and a swimsuit--and to appropriate his dad's rain poncho.  

I remembered that he had been wearing the flipflops at the time, and texted that back as I walked through the house, cell phone in hand, looking for where the stray beach shoes might be.

Of course, if he had the shoes on when he was here, he had to wear something on his feet to drive back to Philly.  They're certainly not here.

Even though my kids (and husband) firmly believe that my superpower is finding the stuff they lose, I'm pretty sure that my internal radar for such things can't cross the Delaware River or the Roosevelt Boulevard.

When we concluded the conversation, he told me that his roommate had rearranged the furniture this week, and that he'd go look under his roommate's bed for the shoes.  Good idea.  Maybe he is learning something at college.

But I have to admit--it's nice to be needed.

My Ultimate Playlist

Just for fun...since I am battling some sort of stomach bug today that left me too tired to do much else, I sat down with my iTunes and set up my Ultimate Playlist (Secular Version). I'll do a Sacred-Music Version another time, as well as a Motivational Version, which will include peppier tunes. Tracks are in alphabetical order by song title, and I can mix them up anytime I want by hitting SHUFFLE. Fun! I love that I can add or subtract from this list anytime I want, too.

• America by Neil Diamond
• Blowin' in the Wind by Peter, Paul & Mary
• Border Song by Elton John
• Brooklyn Roads by Neil Diamond
• Carolina in My Mind by James Taylor
• Carry On by Crosby, Stills & Nash
• Closer to Fine by the Indigo Girls
• Deacon Blues by Steely Dan
• Dear Amy by Minor Motion
• Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me by Elton John
• Eclipse by John Denver
• El Condor Pasa by Simon & Garfunkel
• End of the Line by The Traveling Wilburys
• Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears
• Fly Like an Eagle by Steve Miller Band
• Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John
• Happy Together by The Turtles
• How Long by The Eagles
• I'll Follow the Sun by The Beatles
• I Am a Rock by Simon & Garfunkel
• I Am...I Said by Neil Diamond
• I Got a Name by Jim Croce
• I Pray for You by Big & Rich
• I Want to Live by John Denver
• Lean on Me by Bill Withers
• Let It Be by The Beatles
• The Living Years by Mike & The Mechanics
• The Logical Song by Supertramp
• The Long & Winding Road by The Beatles
• Looking for Space by John Denver
• Mona Lisas & Mad Hatters by Elton John
• My Little Town by Paul Simon
• No One is To Blame by Howard Jones
• On the Road to Find Out by Cat Stevens
• Part of the Plan by Dan Fogelberg
• Put It There by Paul McCartney
• Run for the Roses by Dan Fogelberg
• Sailing by Christopher Cross
• Secure Yourself by The Indigo Girls
• Seven Bridges Road by The Eagles
• Shower the People by James Taylor
• Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons
• Something in the Way She Moves by James Taylor
• The Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel
• Southern Cross by Crosby, Stills & Nash
• Suite: Judy Blue Eyes by Crosby, Stills & Nash
• Sunshine on My Shoulders by John Denver
• Sweet Surrender by John Denver
• Take It to the Limit by The Eagles
• Take the Time by Freddy Jones Band
• Teach Your Children by Crosby, Stills & Nash
• Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton
• Turn! Turn! Turn! by The Byrds
• The Voice by The Moody Blues
• Walk of Life by Dire Straits
• Walking Man by James Taylor
• Wasted on the Way by Crosby, Stills & Nash
• Watching the River Run by Loggins & Messina
• We May Never Pass This Way Again by Seals & Crofts
• The Weight by The Band
• Where Do the Children Play? by Cat Stevens
• Wooden Ships by Crosby, Stills & Nash
• You've Got a Friend by James Taylor
• Your Smiling Face by James Taylor
• Yours is No Disgrace by Yes
• The 59th Street Bridge Song by Simon & Garfunkel

Put it all together and I've got 4 1/2 hours of my very favorites! What's on YOUR ultimate playlist?