Thursday, December 24, 2009

peace and darkness

Tonight is Christmas Eve. We are being smattered by pouring rain, while in the states south of us there are tornado watches, and over a foot of snow in Oklahoma. Even Texas will get a white Christmas.

I went to a candlelight service at a nearby church that I hadn't been to before. Since we moved here I've been intermittently attending a nondenominational "mega-church." Not much like me, considering that I was raised in what seems to be one of the most oppressive Protestant religions around. I won't name the church, because it already seems to be having enough trouble with the congregation without me helping it along.

The service wasn't exactly my idea of a candlelight service. I mean, they did light candles, but they kept the lights on. So it was hard for me to really focus on the service as I like to do when I attend these sort. I had too many distractions: holes in each of the big toes of my socks where I could feel them poking through, like a loose tourniquet (poor choice in socks--what was I thinking?); the headache I've had all day that Advil won't alleviate; my eyes going spazzy from the overhead lights, needing to constantly look down and not be able to watch the pastor speak, feeling rude; being tired from the end of a long day preparing for the big family meal tomorrow, mixing up desserts, vacuuming, scrubbing down bathroom walls.

I'd like so much to find peace and God in a church, but my body distracts me from it. I would think that most people, as they get older, tend to enjoy longer sermons. I've never asked anybody this question, but I would think that older people would be more patient with a long-winded pastor. But not me. The older I get, the more I want to get out. No, that's wrong. What I mean is that I love to listen to the teachings--I could listen all day--but the damn eyes won't let me just sit there and listen quietly. And even the noise from a crying baby makes it hard for me to stare straight. They seem to have a mind of their own lately.

I find more peace in my car, driving in the dark late at night when the roads are empty, than anywhere else. Tonight while I was heading home, the rain was coming down hard and my brights were on. I suddenly came upon a possum walking across the road. I was probably 8 feet away when I actually saw it. The little guy kept strutting along as if he didn't notice the large machine bearing down on him. That's one of those major decisions in life that are not very fair--where there is no turning back if you are wrong, yet you aren't given enough time to figure out the correct course of action. And I was wrong. Hoping he would stop walking and move safely through the underside of my car as I drove over him, I hit the brakes just slightly in order to give him a little more time to get between the wheels. But it didn't work, and I could feel the car slice into him as I rolled over his body with my right front tire. I cupped my hand over my mouth and tensed up. The thought went through my mind that possums are unfriendly creatures and hiss and bite when people come near, just for a split second, maybe as if to unconsciously exonerate myself from the murder of this animal. I drove most of the way home in a state of very little movement. What small amount of peace that I may have found in church while singing Christmas carols and taking communion was gone.

My only resort tonight is to go into the dark to find the calming love of Christ. We originated from the dark--the earth, our bodies, our knowledge--and we will someday return to it in death. It is in the dark where rest and growth occurs. And it is in this restful place where I will go when I need to be moved.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

christian liberals

In Defense of the Christian Liberal
October 12, 2002
By Frank Lovato

Traits I have observed in the behavior of many political conservatives that irritate me is their absolute confidence that they are "right" about anything and everything, and their misuse of the Christian religion to justify the inhumanity of many of their words and actions.

I remember a line in the movie "Inherit the Wind" in which the William Jennings Bryan character asks the Clarence Darrow character "Does right have no meaning to you?" to which he responds, "No! Right has no meaning to me, but truth does."

Conservatives tend to act as if "right" were revealed to them by a higher power and that everything they say is so because they believe it is "right." "Truth" they are willing to subvert, and in many cases violate, to further their perception of "right."

As a case in point, W scares me. He is quoted as saying, "I believe that what I believe is right." His own ignorance and stupidity are an asset to him because study and the knowledge gained from study might undermine his being "right." These attributes make him currently popular with some of the American public because they mistake ignorance for directness and stupidity for single-mindedness.

Willingness to examine one's position and to realistically appraise it is the hallmark of a mature and educated person, and it seems most conservatives never reexamine their positions because it might lead to the terrible prospect of being wrong.

In stark contrast, we liberals seem to always be questioning and rethinking our convictions and the reasons for those convictions. Maybe that is one of our political weaknesses; we think too much to always present a solid united front. But yet again, maybe that is one of our greatest personal assets.

The second thing that irritates me is the misuse of the Christian religion by many conservatives to justify their position in a political situation. It seems to be a planned conservative strategy to couch themselves as "godly" and "religious," as opposed to liberals who are "ungodly" or "non-religious." The Clinton impeachment debacle is a case in point.

Under his leadership the country was running great, but his abilities were completely overshadowed by his "sins." Conservative congressmen and senators went after him as if his sexual transgressions were the most terrible of all crimes. But when their own conservative leadership was found out to also be guilty of the same things, it was passed off as no harm, no foul.

It was all right for them to sin because they were "godly" people who made a small mistake, but even as Bill publicly confessed and asked for forgiveness, the conservatives pronounced that he was not truly repentant, and because he was "ungodly" he must be punished for his sins. Even the FBI was so busy trying to get him to lie to them that they completely forgot the possibility that terrorists could be planning something much more devastating than a little hanky-panky in the White House.

A very personal reason why this use of Christianity by the conservatives annoys me so much is that I consider myself a Christian, and I am also very politically liberal. I firmly believe a person who really tries to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ would be much more likely to be a political liberal rather than a conservative.

Despite all the religious trappings that conservatives are so prone to flaunt, most look down on their fellow man, especially if he is poor or non-Christian, and more so if he makes any demands upon their wealth or time. I like to call these people "Old Testament" Christians because they like to quote the Old Testament and never the words of Jesus Christ as related in the New Testament. I can very well see why they do this, because the Old Testament is absolutely full of death and revenge while Christ taught only life and peace. The various parables of Christ as related in the New Testament teach love and forgiveness and never revenge or war or judgment.

Christ taught us not to judge our fellow man, but the Pharisees (the conservatives of their time) ignored him because they thought they had every right to judge others because they were perfect, since they kept all the Jewish laws and the "sinners" did not. These present-day Pharisees are not much different from the old ones, and in their "righteousness" they quote the Old Testament because it justifies their lack of love or concern for their fellow man.

When asked by one of the Pharisees which was the most important of the commandments, Christ answered the most important was the first commandment concerning the love of God, but then he likened it to the second about the love of fellow man. Why did he do that? Because Christ knew it is impossible for a person to love God and at the same time not love his fellow man. Conservatives camouflage this lack of love by insisting that their overriding concern is for having people take responsibility for themselves and their actions. Noble-sounding, but it also lets them off the hook for providing for the needs of others. In a word, conservatives tend to be just plain cheap.

Looking after the poor and needy effectively is costly and generally means the use of tax money, and to conservatives those are fighting words. Help to the poor and needy can also be provided through charity, and conservatives are now introduced a new wrinkle. They are now willing to provide government funding for aid to the poor and needy through "faith based" charities. Why are they now so willing to provide funds to the poor and needy through charity and not through direct government support?

If a person is beholden to charity, he has no say in how assistance is administered or what that assistance entails. Being a recipient of alms, he can only keep his mouth shut and be grateful. If, on the other hand, the government were the source of the aid, the recipient, by the fact of being a citizen, would have a voice in the kind and administration of the aid. That in a word is entitlement, and that word causes shivers to run down the spine of any true conservative. Government assistance to the poor and needy through "faith based" charities is just another way of disenfranchising them.

Liberals, whether or not they are Christians, are often more Christian-acting than the more vocal conservatives, because they are truly concerned about the well being of people and do not rush to judge the righteousness of their fellow man. The Bible has a passage that states "Judge not least you be judged." A very good idea, but in any and every social controversy conservatives are there to judge who is right and who is wrong and believe they have every right to do so.

Conservatives are also very quick to shed tears over the death of innocent babies killed in abortions but not one for the killer on death row. I am firmly against abortion, but I am also firmly against the death penalty. In my opinion, it would seem that a true Christian society would be willing, if not eager, to provide a means by which a killer could save his soul and not prematurely end his life before he has had every opportunity to repent of his sins. If he repents, there will be great celebration in Heaven, and if he does not the responsibility is all his. Christian teaching holds that the innocent unborn child and the hardened killer are both precious to God, and not one more than the other. But the conservative is the first to defend the death penalty and cry out for revenge.

But as far as the abortion question goes, conservatives preach about how every unborn child is precious and how each one should be provided the maximum protection under the law. I agree, but just ask them if the government should provide funds to care for these children after they are born and for their mothers who would provide them care. They immediately fall back on the old line that it is their fault and they should take responsibility for their actions. This is a win-win argument in that conservatives can sound holy and still not have their holiness cost them anything.

Sometimes I get the feeling that the thought of sinners writhing in hell makes these folks really feel good. I read recently about a minister picketing a theater performance of a play about the homosexual young man that was killed in Wyoming. He seemed almost elated to announce with absolute certainty that the young man had already been in hell for two years. That doesn't sound very Christian to me. What do you think Jesus would say?

All these traits I mentioned are irritating, but the most dangerous to our American democracy is the conservative's use of government to forward their religious and philosophical views. They try to pack the courts with themselves, try to pass legislation that aids them in gaining control of government, and take every opportunity to label the opposition as traitors or at best unpatriotic. And they are ruthless in their attacks. Again, remember the Clinton impeachment.

They use government policy to further their own strange interpretation of scripture. They believe the United States should support Israel--not because of any affection for the Israelis, but because they believe the establishment of a Jewish state will speed or assist their concept of the second coming of Christ and, ironically, the conversion or elimination of the Jewish people.

They ridicule natural resource conservation because they believe the imminent second coming of Christ makes conservation of the environment unnecessary and even silly.

They espouse causes such as the anti-abortion movement because it gains them the support of Catholic voters while still avowing that the Catholic Church is the "whore of Babylon" and that the Pope is the "anti-Christ". They cite their extremely literal interpretation of the Bible as if it were fact and justify their vile and often untruthful attacks on others as being a service to God.

They ridicule Islam for its insistence that the words of the Prophet Mohamed are the only truth, while doing exactly the same thing with what they profess are Christian beliefs.

I hope, and yes, even pray, that this is just a passing phase in the political history of our country, and that soon we will wonder how a country supposedly based on the concept of freedom and fair play can have drifted so far from this concept. The mere suspicion of hostile intent and the possible possession of weapons of mass destruction by another country (this time Ira--who knows who will be next?) are grounds to make war against that country and encourage its citizens to overthrow their government.

Conservatives are turning our country, that historically has been a believer in the rule of law, into an international bullyboy who throws its weight around merely because he can. For a time, we liberals have got to adopt one the traits of the conservatives by standing united in our opposition to these terrible policies that threaten the safety and virtue of our beautiful country.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

an abandoned farmstead


The long arm of progress awaits the past














I am one with the mud.


Friday, December 11, 2009

A Dickens of a Christmas, 2009






















Monday, December 7, 2009

I choose to be a mother



I Choose to be a Mother

Some houses try to hide the fact that children shelter there,
Ours boasts of it quite openly, the signs are everywhere,
For smears are on the windows, little smudges on the door,
I should apologize, I guess, for toys shrewn on the floor,
But I sat down with the children and we played and laughed and read,
And if the windows do not shine, their eyes will shine instead,
And when at times I'm forced to choose the one job or the other,
I want to be a housewife, but first I'll be a mother.


Borrowed from http://angietolpin.blogspot.com

Sunday, December 6, 2009

the living frost




to the pre-lit christmas tree in my front room



Hello there, tree. Nice to make your acquaintance. I'm sure that you're feeling cramped in that box, and a little airing out will suit you well. It must've been a long and harrowing trip from China to my living room. Up on the stand you go. Now to add your midsection and top. All assembled. Feel better?

My husband recently inherited you from a co-worker and thinks that you'd be a more suitable choice for our Christmas decor this year. Let's make something perfectly clear: I do not agree. I know that you're probably confused, so I'll explain. I am a sentimental packrat, and I don't like replacing things that still seem to work fine and that I have an attachment to. You will soon find this out when you get crammed into the storage closet with the rest of the holiday decorations from years gone by.

I didn't see anything wrong with my old tree, but my better half says that it's missing too many needles. FYI, we have two kittens, and I can see them already eyeing yours like they're chew toys.

The real problem is that you're not really presenting yourself well. Sure, all of your lightbulbs are working. For now. But your shape is lopsided and I can see your pole. Don't be shy...I've seen many like this before. We'll just make some of your inner branches more erect to cover it up. Am I making you blush? Can we puhleeze keep this on a professional level???

Here kitty kitty. Excuse me for a moment while I dig my cat out from your innards. She's really just a baby, but recently came into that special time in life whereby she walks around moaning and rubbing her butthole on everything in sight. Laypeople such as myself call it "heat." Don't worry, this is not a permanent condition, and it won't cause you to burn down. We plan to get both of the cats sterilized...after Christmas.


I think that you and I are going to have some good years together.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

writing phenomenon

I've noticed that it's sometimes easier for me to uninhibitedly write a letter than a blog post. So I'm going to try a new format for awhile and see if it makes my efforts feel less labored. All my posts are going to be written as letters to someone or something. The subject will determine the recipient. I haven't seen this method used in a blog before. Time to climb out of the box. And maybe talking to inaminate objects suits me better anyways.

I hope this doesn't come off as totally insane, so at moments like this I feel honored to mention one of my favorite quotes by E.L. Doctorow: "Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia." All in the good name of unbridled creativity.

Friday, November 27, 2009

hands gone wild


I wonder if I am taking this handwashing thing a little too far with my 3-year-old. She seems to be a little over-enthusiastic about it!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thankfuls


For the past couple of weeks, I have committed to stating something that I am thankful for everyday. This is probably a routine that I should get myself into every morning--consciously thanking God for something--and yes, I do pray sometimes, but not often enough--I think I mentioned that before.

Prayer to me is a calming and meditative activity. Even if I don't always feel like someone "up there" is listening, it helps to set my mind free from the scattered and hectic thoughts that plague me throughout the day.

Anyways, here is the list:

1. For a husband who puts up with all my crap and rarely seems to get angry about it.

2. For all my fellow veterans (that includes ALL branches of the military, lol--go army!) keeping our country safe every day, including my uncle who was killed in Vietnam before I was able to meet him. You are all so brave!!!

3. For having a boss that I can talk to and know that she is sincere and caring. That she is German and brings lots of food from her native country for us (I have a soft spot for that place for some reason). And also for the fact that she likes my idea of sunglasses at work----just not during IV sticks!

4. As a tribute to Friday the 13th today, I'm very thankful that I have an old beater for a car. That makes it so much easier to accept the dings and scratches, especially when you get hit in the store parking lot!

5. Continuing on with the Friday the 13th thankfulness...thankful for my precious animals, as well as the veterinarian who cares for them...and also flea treatments, and vaccines to keep them healthy...all for only $499! It must be a FT13TH special!

6. For my friends, particularly the ones I can be myself around and not feel shy about it. ML, you are the most special to me. We've known eachother since 15 and nobody really knows me like you do. You never get on my case about being such a terrible correspondent. You are irreplaceable!

7. For keyboards, typewriters, pens, pencils, and paper (that includes scratch paper!). Basically, anything and everything to write on and with! No, not spray paint :)

8. For hot showers, cold drinks, and that I have not yet gone gray.

9. Thankful to be me. And I'm not even going to add any qualifiers in there, surprise surprise! :-)

10. For progress and ice cream, not sure in which order of importance.

11. It's Saturday and I'm home...thank you :) In fact, thankful for ALL days off from work!

12. To be done done done with the floor! (other than the quarter round, but who's really counting that?). And as my dear husband so astutely observed, without one argument or bicker at eachother. Good thing, considering we have several more rooms to do still.

13. For second chances, do-overs, redos, and encores.

14. For the rambunctiousness of my children, the calmness of the trees, filling meals, and that I made it to another Thanksgiving with all my senses intact (except maybe the common one :p).



Tuesday, November 24, 2009

B's tooth falls out



Today we learned that a pretzel can not only be used as a snack food, but also for wrenching a loose tooth free. I wonder if anyone has ever invented a loosetooth grabber device. This could be it!

It happened while he was sitting in class. The students have the freedom to eat their snack from home whenever they want during the day, as long as they keep it at their desk. This is so different from when I was growing up, or even from my oldest daughter's school--a strict parochial institution. I believe that this instills a sense of responsibility and individuality in the child--and, more importantly, gives them a little bit of control over their mostly structured day.

So, to make a long story short, the pretzel caught the tooth and pulled it out. Seeing the blood was not traumatic for him. We talk about things like that all the time. I refuse to shelter him about the world, lest he be shocked and terrified someday.

He brought the white jagged pearly thing home in a plastic bag, so proud of the accomplishment, like when he runs another lap in track. I'm sad because I won't be home tonight to witness the Tooth Fairy's first arrival to our house (yeah, I sometimes fail at teaching the ins and outs of reality, but whatever).

Okay, I'm going to make a confession now. Someday when you read this, B, you will gasp, but the Tooth Fairy had to borrow money from your Halloween card on the counter to pay you for your tooth. We love you :)

Thursday, November 12, 2009

southside

I've recently learned something about having a so-called "disability":

If you don't get a sense of humor about it, it will consume you.

So there I was at work tonight, sitting in the breakroom and working on the essays for my grad school application. My eyes were feeling sore. I glanced at them in the mirror, then realized I looked like I should be taken to drug rehab immediately.

I fumbled around in my bag and found my sunglasses. This is one of the "tools" that my boss agreed that I should use at work to get through the shift on the bad nights. Actually, they're my husband's, because I sat on mine in the car. Sunglasses have an extremely short half-life when they belong to me.

They are special sunglasses, fancy ones. They say "NASCAR" on the arm (the part that hooks to your ear) and have bluish-tinted lenses. Perfect for where I'm living now, although I think we bought them back in Illinois. Unfortunately, somewhere between my car and the locker here at work that poor fancy left arm got amputated.

I'm trying to be adaptive, but having just one side hang off my face isn't working, so I get out my baseball cap, the second "tool." One of my friends in the ER bought it for me. He calls me "Southside" and speaks to me in an exaggerated Minnesota accent, always mocking my northern roots, but sweetly picked this hat up for me when he spotted it at Target. I made sure I told him "thanks boy."

I adjust it on my head, try to stretch it out after leaving it in the dryer for too long, and what do you know? In walks my coworker, laughing immediately when she sees me. I can't help but laugh too. I look utterly ridiculous with polyester scrubs and this hat on. Just the fact that my boss said it was okay for me to walk around a nursing unit with a baseball cap and sunglasses shows how far we've come in the working world with disability accomodations. But no, I won't be leaving the breakroom like this. I'm not quite at that level of comfort with myself. The "tools" are reserved for those moments when there is no patient around!

Yes, you can always find something to smile about in almost every situation, if you look hard enough!

Friday, November 6, 2009

living in a white bread 'hood

B, my first grader, went on a field trip to a play yesterday.

"Mom, listen to this! This is cool! When we were riding on the bus a red car pulled up beside us and there was a Japanese person inside! A Japanese person in Tennessee!!!"

Of course, I am trying to be a good mother and teach my son to embrace diversity. So I proceeded to explain that there are plenty of Asian people living in Tennessee, as well as other ethnicities, and that they all contribute to the beauty of the collective human face of our world.

And then of course, I sighed, and said out loud "We definitely need to take more trips to Chicago."

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Forbes.com--"America's Safest Cities"=buncha crapola

Now, you know that I love my hometown of Chicago, but this survey is horribly skewed and shameful. Traffic fatalities in Chicago were ranked 9; in Nashville, 37. I drove the autobahn in Germany and was still scared to take the Dan Ryan after I returned home. The only complaint I have about Nashville drivers is that they don't seem to know what a turn signal is, nor do some here understand the concept of pulling forward in a left-hand turning lane once the green arrow is gone. But I must say that since moving here two years ago I have become a less hurried driver, and in turn, grip the wheel in a more leisurely manner and yell fewer obscenities into the air.


Forbes.com--America's Safest Cities

"To determine our list of America's safest cities, we looked at the country's 40 largest metropolitan statistical areas across four categories of danger. We considered violent crime rates from the FBI's 2008 uniform crime report; 2008 workplace death rates from the Bureau of Labor Statistics; 2008 traffic death rates from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration; and natural disaster risk, using rankings from green living site SustainLane.com. "

1 Minneapolis-St. Paul-Bloomington, MN-WI
2 Milwaukee-Waukesha-West Allis, WI
3 Portland-Vancouver-Beaverton, OR-WA
4 Boston-Cambridge-Quincy, MA-NH
4 Seattle-Tacoma-Bellevue, WA
6 Providence-New Bedford-Fall River, RI-MA
7 San Jose-Sunnyvale-Santa Clara, CA
8 New York-Northern New Jersey-Long Island, NY-NJ-PA
9 Cincinnati-Middletown, OH-KY-IN
10 Cleveland-Elyria-Mentor, OH
10 Denver-Aurora, CO
12 Detroit-Warren-Livonia, MI
13 San Diego-Carlsbad-San Marcos, CA
14 Phoenix-Mesa-Scottsdale, AZ
15 Chicago-Naperville-Joliet, IL-IN-WI
15 Austin-Round Rock, TX
15 Dallas-Fort Worth-Arlington, TX
18 Pittsburgh, PA
19 Los Angeles-Long Beach-Santa Ana, CA
20 Washington-Arlington-Alexandria, DC-VA-MD-WV
21 Philadelphia-Camden-Wilmington, PA-NJ-DE-MD
22 San Antonio, TX
23 Atlanta-Sandy Springs-Marietta, GA
24 Sacramento-Arden-Arcade-Roseville, CA
25 San Francisco-Oakland-Fremont, CA
26 Baltimore-Towson, MD
27 Virginia Beach-Norfolk-Newport News, VA-NC
28 Tampa-St. Petersburg-Clearwater, FL
29 Las Vegas-Paradise, NV
29 Columbus, OH
31 Charlotte-Gastonia-Concord, NC-SC
32 Kansas City, MO-KS
32 Riverside-San Bernardino-Ontario, CA
34 St. Louis, MO-IL
35 Orlando-Kissimmee, FL
36 Indianapolis-Carmel, IN
37 Nashville-Davidson-Murfreesboro-Franklin, TN
38 Houston-Sugar Land-Baytown, TX
39 Jacksonville, FL
40 Miami-Fort Lauderdale-Pompano Beach, FL

Monday, October 26, 2009

Fort Granger--an intact Civil War fort in Franklin, Tennessee











This is actually a little boy. Children wore this type of attire until they were potty-trained in order to make it easier to keep clean.





The bugle demonstrated. Five distinct notes can be attained by altering the pressure on the mouthpiece.





A soldier's underwear. This caught a few giggles from the crowd...and the soldiers themselves.






The heel of the shoe had a horseshoe pounded into it to keep it from wearing down quickly, and nails added to the sole so that there would be greater traction while walking on rugged terrain.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

friends

There is one thing in life that I have consistently prayed for whenever I get into a praying mood. It's something that doesn't come easy for me--something that I need to work hard at. When I was a little kid, I enjoyed spending time in my room reading and writing more than being around people. It started out that way because I am creative and introspective, then as I got older and went through different experiences, my loner tendencies slowly turned into a distrust of people in general. So I pull away from them, sometimes consciously, sometimes unaware of what I'm doing. I struggle with finding the proper balance of being an authentic person and protecting myself. I long for true friends, people that I can be honest and human with, and although some of the secrets I divulge may be shocking and weird, to still be loved by them. I'm sure that this desire is common for most people, although it's not something that we talk about in casual conversation.

Why am I writing this now? Because it is the eve of my long-awaited trip up to Illinois, and part of the visit will include old friends, some of whom I haven't seen since 2nd grade. Funny thing is, we weren't that close back then, but then again, how close can kids be in 2nd grade? But over this past year we have become reacquainted, and it's like those 30 years apart were nothing more than a few months. I have found that as I slowly let them into my world, these friends still care about me, and I trust them.


Those truly linked don't need correspondence. When they meet again after many years apart, their friendship is as true as ever--Deng Ming-Dao

Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom--Marcel Proust

We all need friends with whom we can speak of our deepest concerns, and who do not fear to speak the truth in love to us--Margaret Guenther

To find a friend one must close one eye; to keep him, two--Norman Douglas

I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and the new--Ralph Waldo Emerson


1st Cub Scouts campout with the kids, October 3, 2009

Set up tent in the back of the group, next to the woods. Nice spot for nature. Bad spot for sleep since kids playing in the woods and reinacting battle scenes ran by our tent yelling all day.

Naptime for Claire--after about 1/2 hour or more of her playing, she finally started twitching and shut her eyes. A moment later a group of kids ran by. Big brother Brandon spoke loudly to them--"my sister's sleeping in there, be quiet!" Next thing I know she's smiling at me. A precious smile, but I was zoned after dozing off myself and desperately wanted her to go back to sleep. No such luck. She had to go potty.

First excursion to the outhouse with Claire. Chose one without a daddy long leg in sight (on a subsequent visit we had to switch because there was a one resting on the extra roll of toilet paper sitting on the floor. That was unacceptable to the girl, even if there was another roll on the dispenser). I teach her the law of the outhouse: "Don't touch that urinal next to you--people pee in there, try not to touch the seat, sit still on there, you could fall in!" She tilts her head back and suddenly her Dora hat tumbles in slow motion down into the bowels of the outhouse. I was planning to leave it there, floating next to a pile of poo, ick, I get strange sensations in my throat just thinking about it--but she cried and cried, screamed actually, so I bravely stuck my hand in there and pulled it out. It was half covered in that blue disinfecting liquid they put in the toilets. I really do deserve Mother-of-the-Year for that feat. Several men were waiting near the door as we came out. "We were wondering what happened," they said in concerned voices. It's a preschooler and an outhouse. Do I need to explain more? Okay, just a Dora hat, folks, we're both alive and intact.

Walked about 1/2 mile up to the main nighttime bonfire. Nudged ourselves into a spot in the crowd to sit, and sure enough we couldn't see or hear much at all. I guess we weren't alone--the Cub Scout leaders on stage, all dressed in their regalia, kept asking if the crowd could hear. People repeatedly answered "no," but the sound never became any louder. Also, a couple of guys in front of us wouldn't sit down as if we were at some exciting concert. I wondered what this was all about. It seemed to be for awards, but nothing that pertained to us newbies. No scary indoctrination ceremony or anything like that.

Sat on the blanket that we had argued about back at the campsite. Husband didn't want to dig around in the van for it but I told him "I'd rather sit on a blanket than the bare ground." Good thing. He ended up sitting in a puddle of beer. After about 5 minutes we decided to trudge back to camp.

The den leader had a bonfire going and we got ourselves a spot far back from it, as sparks were flying in different directions from the wind. Claire and B were well-behaved and kept their distance. Roasted marshmallows, 2 for each of them, burnt to a delicious, cancer-causing crisp. Husband had a graham cracker and chocolate bar ready and grabbed my poker with it, pulled marshmallow off in a smooth stroke. Brandon had originally tried to roast his own, but they set on fire and he deduced that he should wave the flaming marshmallows my way. That was the end of that. Kids snuck a few more marshmallows off the food table and daddy gave them some Keebler cookies. Other campers in the group surrounded the fire in front of us, but I was okay with that. It's nice to be able to watch things from afar. Not only in camping, but in many other situations too. No campfire songs, to my surprise.

Didn't have a phone or watch to tell the time, but it was probably around 9 when we hit the sack. This is way early for me, but there was nothing else to do in a dark tent with two little kids. They fell asleep immediately on the air mattress across from us--no playing or goofing! They did better there than at home.

Most of the people were still up and about in our tent area. Kids were running by and kept mentioning/admiring/picking-up my walking stick that I bought for $15 at the main building--beautifully carved, and cheap--probably a boy scout project. Had to leave the bed to bring it into the tent. I wasn't going to let something that cost me so little get away!

Claire woke-up a couple hours later and asked "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?" This is the song that I sing her each night at bedtime. The night isn't complete without it. "It's the middle of the night honey, I'll sing it to you in the morning." Listened for B's snoring to make sure he was still alive after the little fall from the rock castle ladder where he cut the back of his head.

Dozed off for a couple of hours. The next time we woke up it was bright in the tent. I thought maybe daylight had come, was hoping for that actually, but it was only the full moon shining overhead. My head was elevated, but I could feel rocks under my butt. It was dead silent outside, but I woke Don up to reinflate our mattress anyways. I checked the time and it was 3 a.m. The motor of the air pump was loud and I was afraid that I would wake everyone around us up, but I wasn't going to lay on rocks to be popular.

I laid there for awhile listening to the snoring in nearby tents. After Don fell asleep he started to snore too. I could nudge him, but it didn't help cease the chorus of snores around me that echoed through the thin night air. I let out a loud fart, forgetting that we were in semi-public. Wondered if doing something like that was socially acceptable in that situation--at night in a zipped up tent, even if others could hear. Where do you draw the line with that? Snoring is okay but farts are not? We were at the "primitive" campsites. Maybe that allowed for all bodily functions.

Another small bonfire in the morning, scattered people gathered around, men at the grill station cooking breakfast. Nice to see lots of men cooking, although I see it in my own house on a daily basis. Lucky that I live with a man who likes to cook! Breakfast was pre-packaged danishes (B originally took a cheese one, the LAST one at that, and I nudgingly coveted it--"do you like cheese?" "Oh no," he remembered, and I swapped him out for a cinnamon one). Also scrambled eggs, chunks of ham, bacon, sausage links and pancakes. Milk, OJ, or yesterday's orange gatorade or lemonade to drink.

I helped my husband dismantle the tent (I wanted to learn the in's and out's of this simple nylon thing--in the military I was a lab tech and so we usually worked out of a metal pod, but when we weren't in there we had to assemble massive canvas tents). We had to brush a few more spiders off. He picked one up by its leg and threw it off. I felt glad that he was the one between the two of us who could put on a better brave show.

First thing I did when we arrived home was throw myself on the bed.

Monday, October 5, 2009

the cover letter and resume that should've stayed in draft

My husband was recently interviewing candidates for a job with his company. Amongst the shining examples, this shone the brightest by far.


Sir

I just saw that add on craigslist and wanna know how to apply. I know i am good for this job.. I got a clean record with no priors. was locked up at 13 for 3 years but thats off my record. Bullshit i didnt evend do I got my GED last summer so i am good with that. i am not lokin for much dough either cuz my baby momma is workin now to. I really only lokin to make 7-10 an hours. I dont have a resumee but we can do a Phone interview if yous like.
Thanks

Deli Present work their 8.50 an hour
Carpet cleaners 11.00 an hour
Motiviation (cleaned equipement) 14.80 an hour (fired due to illness)
Subway 7.50 an hour
McDonalds 7.50 an hour a yung pup makin a buck

Saturday, September 19, 2009

blog searchword fun

A compilation of some recent searches that crash-landed onto my blog:


computericed boc germani machine (Whatever it is, it's very cold.)

ingesting moonflowers (How did I know that writing about moonflowers would draw aspiring drug addicts to me?)

the proper southern baby shower (multiple searches from Florida and Georgia. You live there. There's no one around that you can ask?)

yankee jurs eyes (???)

southern men are babies (Could we generalize a bit further?)

baby shower mints Nashville TN (Hendersonville, TN. Go to your local Dollar General. I'm sure you'll find something suitable there.)

why are my moonflowers falling off? (Los Angeles, California. Other than the fact that the flowers naturally only last one day, could it be that they dislike the smog?)

what is causing the leaves on my moonflowers to turn yellow? (Georgia. Hot climate. Water them.)

laygs or lehgs (Champaign, Illinois. Come on people, this is a big college town. You can't spell legs? Did you get admitted because your daddy paid off a senator?)

u r my shoulder to lean on and i can always count on u to b there for me your my one and only, your my everything everytime i (Melbourne, Australia. So they're as lovesick on the other side of the world as we are here, I see.)

"my braces" "my baby" "my husband" site (Italy. "My life, my love and my lady...is the sea.")

pricking uncomfortable eye (Malta. Please don't do that. Pricking your eye will only make things worse for you.)

pedal on the floor, hand pumping my prick (California. Am I surprised? No. I'm now starting to realize that my botox entry is going to invite a lot of interesting traffic to my blog. Welcome, perverts!)

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

big boy B and update on "blank"

Two major events happened in the life of Brandon today:

1. First loose tooth

2. Baby blanket put away

The nightly toothbrushing ritual consists of checking for missed spots (there's always gunk on the same front teeth). I noticed that his bottom tooth was leaning a bit to the side. Crouched down with my nose all up in his face and tried to figure out what was going on, as if I had never seen this phenomenon before. "Oh, it's loose!" He walked out of the bathroom with a glowing smile, circling around in the upstairs hall. Nearly 7, first loose tooth!

Tucking in for bed. Do you want me to cover you with your blanket? No, I want to be a big boy now. Where do you want me to put it? In my drawer under the bed.

He had offered to pass the old blanket down to Claire a couple of days earlier. My husband retorted--"No, that nasty thing is getting retired!" I have to admit that it is a bit old--my 17-year-old's original crib blanket. I've replaced the batting once and it is pretty much a thin sheet of faded material with some random chunks of cotton hanging on in various places.

So there it sits, safely under the bed. Close enough for comfort, yet far away enough to make him feel like he's a big boy. And, in fact, he is, and I'm the one who can't always see it--or is it that I don't want to?

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

and we worried, fretted, and argued over Obama's speech to schoolchildren...

Short conversation with my first grade son after school :


"Did you get to hear the president speak today?"

"Yeah."

"Where? On TV?"

"On Good Morning America."

"What did he talk about?"

"I don't remember. I have a bad memory."

"Was it about school or a job?"

"I don't know. It was getting boring so I stopped listening."

Selective hearing loss starts much younger than I thought it did.

Monday, August 31, 2009

B-Day

Waiting room. There are such things as "botox buddies," sitting kitty-corner from me, discussing the workout sessions they attended yesterday. The nurse calls them back together. An overweight, lopsided woman enters, her clothes hang carelessly, looks me straight in the face with an understanding smile, sits down. I'm thinking that I don't look so bad to be in this cosmetic procedure/eye surgeon office--perhaps that's magical or wishful thinking though. I could pretend that I'm just getting a little touch-up because my kids and nightshift schedule are causing my face to age, since I don't smoke and I avoid the sun like it's poison. A few minutes later the fat lady is called as well. Get the saran wrap ready, she cheerfully commands.

Now it's my turn. Follow me please, right here, yes--the first room here on the left, where is the restroom?, sign consent (risk of blindness? and millions of women have this done
electively??), aftercare instructions (no lying down for 4 hours, no exercise today--we don't want you to sweat), but could I go for a walk?, yes that's fine. Nurse draws up 3 TB syringes and leaves them on the counter. Wait in chair a long 60-minute version of 20 minutes, read book the same line and paragraph a couple of times over, think, think, read, stare at door, note noises in hall, unstick my elbow from armrest, adjust wedgie, look in mirror and smooth down flyaway hair wisps, apply lipstick (I might as well look good for this).

He enters wearing a suit, asks how I've been doing with this
blepharospasm thing I've got going on somewhere inside my face and brain. Fine, it comes and goes, worse when I'm tired. Terrified of this. Why? Let's see, it's my first time, I'm a botox virgin. Are you sure you want to proceed then? Yes, yes, I'm not tired now, it hasn't been so bad lately, but who knows the future? Driving is still difficult in the morning. Staring into my eyes, yes, I'm still blinking a lot, just not now when you're looking at me so much. Did my eye doctor send you the memo that I am pretty much the worst patient ever?

Holds syringes up to light, checks for air bubbles, says I'm going to start with a relatively low dose if that's okay with you. Uh, yeah, that's perfectly okay. I have to work the next three nights, I was hoping my eyelids wouldn't be hanging over my mouth.

The needle comes near. I instinctively close my eyes. I only know I'm supposed to because a friend told me that's how it's done. Quick, cautious, seemingly inadequate wipe across my brow with alcohol. Prick, bee-sting burn, prick prick prick prick, ouch (my eyelid!), jump, grab around for arm of chair, prick prick prick. How many of those do you need to put in each eye? I don't count, he mumbles. A quick blot of dry gauze to indicate that he's through with the right side.

Can you give me a moment to compose myself? I need to breathe. I can't believe women have this done because they
want it done. That's what they say, he says, the ones who need it don't like it and the ones who don't need it say it's not so bad.

Now to the left side with barely a warning. Close eyes, quick. Prick prick prick ouch, damn! the eyelid again. Will my aqueous humor (this is far from humorous) leak out from my eyeball after he accidentally punctures it? I remember that word from anatomy class--a distraction. Prick prick prick prick. We're done. Blot blot. Call me in 10 days. Come back in 3 months.

The skin around my eyes is red and white dappled with tiny blood spots at the injection sites. I'm
embarrassed to walk out into public like this. The receptionist says it will go down in an hour. Beeline for the bathroom to wipe the blood off. First I have to make my way through a waiting room full of old people staring at my face, probably wondering if I had collagen injections out of vanity while still in my relative youth.

There's a numb sensation all around my eyes. I count the hours at home--1,2,3,4--
naptime. I've been up half the night worrying about this. I really am tired. I lied earlier, I guess. Or it is that I live my life in a state of exhaustion, so I don't really notice it anymore.

When I wake-up, that little furrow by my right eyebrow is gone. I smile. No forehead wrinkles. I'm still blinking a lot though, the sun a bit irritating. 3 days to work medically, 4 hours to take 5 years off. Nice. My face feels pretty normal, but normal for me is always tense and tight around my eyes, with my eyebrows having a mind of their own. Wondering if I will wake up in the morning and its contrary personality will be muted, or if I will need to tape my eyelids shut for the next 3 months.

So my little curse may be a blessing--only time will tell.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

tolerance

A great definition of the word by another blogger:

Being tolerant does not mean that I share another one's belief. But it does mean that I acknowledge another one's right to believe, or obey, his or her own conscience.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

grandpa

Today I found a copy of the eulogy and poem I wrote for my Grandpa's funeral from June 13, 2005. He died when he was 94. I thought I would share it here.

"My life will never be the same since you have gone. It is like there is a new chapter unfolding, one that reads 'you are no longer a child, and all the childish things have passed away.' It is very humbling to have your direct line of relatives gone this early in life. It makes you feel older than you really are, and gives the message that it is imperative to continue to pursue your dreams. You were my link to the carefree, happier times in my life when I was very young.

I hope that my family can someday, in years to come, build their memories on the fun and loving holidays like my cousins and I could always look forward to.

Grandpa inadvertently gave me wisdom for life, even after his death. Knowing him has taught me to stop withholding love to avoid the pain of loss. To say meaningful words to people while they are alive, and not just in eulogies, where they may or may not be listening. How important it is to maintain good relationships among your children. That it is never too late and you are never too old to grow closer to God.

As I grow old, and if I am fortunate to do so as you have done (perhaps avoiding McDonald's might help), I hope that I will leave something for the generations after me that incorporates all of the lessons that I gained from my ancestors before me."



Reunion

I will not ponder his reasons
In dashing your soul towards the throne
For now you belong to the ages
And Jesus has carried you home.

The tread of your footsteps fell lightly
As weary, you followed the days
In patience, awaiting reunion
With the sight of your loved one's gaze.

When over that bright hill you travel
And our planet appears but a star
All the long years of toil and trial
So suddenly banished afar.

Remember us as you are walking
Amongst those with whom you now lie
And send us new hope in our meeting
As we send you our loving goodbye.

Friday, July 17, 2009

queshtimation mark



!!!!!!!!!!

What is this symbol?, I asked my son in a teacherly manner while he was practicing reading.

A queshtimation mark, he replied. I corrected him, but thought, wow, that's a pretty cool word he stumbled upon.

So henceforth I am naming "?!," which I frequently use when emailing, the queshtimation mark, in honor of my blossoming wordophile B.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Growing moonflowers the slow and tedious way (A.K.A. the only way)

My first "official" garden entry is devoted to my namesake flower, the moonflower. This series is called "Gardening My Way" or "The Acrid Gardener," which means that I'm going to write about how I garden (which may or may not be correct) perhaps weekly or biweekly or monthly or yearly, depending on how busy gardening (or how lazy!) I am. Thumbs of all colors are welcome here.


Cultivating moonflowers is a bit of a process, albeit a worthwhile one. If you live in the far north, you can just forget it. You won't get a profusion of blooms. I know this because when I lived in Illinois I got about 5 flowers for the summer, and in Tennessee where the summers are unbearably hot I got new flowers almost everyday along with seeds at the end of the season. Moonflowers love HOT humid days, not the sissy 80's, but the beefy 90's. Just don't let them go dry in that kind-of heat, otherwise it doesn't matter what kind of day you have, because you will no longer have any moonflowers to speak of. They can be forgiving though, and if you do happen to bring them to the brink of death sometimes a little water and an overnight rest heals them.


Moonflower seeds. The cream and brown-colored ones are viable. The black one to the right came from one of my flowers last year. I had opened the seed pod immediately after pulling it off the plant, and I think it dried out too fast. When moonflower seeds are first harvested, their outer seed coat is soft. Exposure to the air is best done little by little. Let's move onto the actual growing of the seeds now.

The moonflower seeds must first be scored. No, this is not an activity that involves illegal substances. To score a seed means to make a tiny notch in the seed coat (A.K.A.--the actual seed), so that water can get inside the seed, and when the first leaves begin to grow out they will be able to break through the seed coat. Moonflower seeds are about 1/2 to 1 cm in diameter, and look and feel like little rocks. If you try to push them down into the soil and think that a little watering is going to start them, you will be looking at bare soil for a very long time.

To score a seed, all you need is a small steak knife and a willingness to sacrifice a bit of the skin on your index finger that is holding the seed. If your ear is itching while cutting, resist the temptation to dig. The combination of ear wax and a steak knife can be disastrous, and if you show up in the ER where I work I am going to just plain ignore you for not following directions.




Drop the seeds into a cup of water and let them sit there overnight.




Moisten a paper towel so that it is dripping wet, and lay it flat on a plate. Arrange the softened seeds on the plate, and cover them with another moist paper towel. Then wrap the whole thing in plastic wrap (like Saran wrap) to keep the paper towel from drying out when you are not around. Within 3 days, if you have decent temperatures in your house or sunroom (meaning that you don't need to be wearing a coat to be comfortable in there) you will see the sprouts breaking forth from the seeds. Hallelujah!






If you are forgetful like I am, you might happen to cut the top off a package of moonflower seeds and leave it standing upright on the kitchen counter in a moment of distraction. When you return to the package a half an hour later, after you have scored the first set of seeds, located a relaxing CD to listen to, poured yourself a drink of overpriced flavored soy milk, and visited the bathroom, you have forgotten that the seed package is still full. You grab it up by the bottom to throw it away, essentially spilling all the seeds across the floor. The redeeming part about this situation is that they are large and easy to locate. The problem part is that they are large and easy to locate. Make sure that you get them all up, because they could be a choking hazard to small children, and a hallucinogenic hazard to teenagers left home alone. Yes, you read that right, moonflower seeds can be toxic when ingested, leading to hallucinations and anti-cholinergic effects (according to the Merck Manual of Health and Aging, these include "confusion, blurred vision, constipation, dry mouth, light-headedness, difficulty starting and continuing to urinate, and loss of bladder control. Most of these effects are undesirable."). Undesirable unless you are suffering from irritable bowel syndrome.


As the sprouts continue to grow and the seed coat falls off, you can see the cotelydons, or seed leaves. As you can see in the photo above, they resemble a brain and a spinal cord (can you tell I'm a medical person yet?). As photosynthesis begins to occur, the leaves begin to turn green from the pale yellow they once were.

I placed my moonflower sprouts in a sunny window surrounded by a moist paper towel above and below. I found that by the end of the day the paper towel was dried out and the seeds were becoming shriveled, so I learned that the best way to allow the sprouts to grow safely is to cover the whole "apparatus" with plastic wrap during the day, and take the wrap off at night to allow everything to breathe and avoid mold growth.




An army of baby moonflower plants



I wish I could say that the "lesson" was finished, but unfortunately, there is a sadder ending.

If you look at the photos above of the seedlings, some of their stems curl around. This makes for difficulty when planting. Many of the plants above were placed very shallowly in the soil because of this, so that when I watered them they would tumble about, flop over, and get their leaves covered in moist soil. Dirty leaves prevent respiration from occurring in a plant, you know-- breathing, something even plants must do. Please consult your plant biology textbook for more information, as this is not meant to be a boring botany lesson.

Not only that, but I noticed that even though peat pots are convenient and better for the earth, they don't seem to hold water as well as plastic pots, so the soil would dry out rapidly. Not to bash peat pots so much, but they're pretty nasty when they start growing mold up the sides too!

Long story short, about half of the original seedlings died.

The moral of this lesson is to make sure you start lots of seeds, and don't give them pet names until their roots have become firmly established!