Patience Sayeth the Runes

As you can see from my profile, I have been on a spiritual quest since childhood. It all began when my parents saw fit to send me to the little local non-denomination chapel that stood behind our home. In the summer they would sponsor the vacation bible school where kids could go for a few hours a day to do arts and crafts, share cookies and a glass of water, and listen to bible stories. It was a way for the neighborhood moms to get some free time to do mom things. I had a hard time with arts and crafts because I couldn't use scissors (back then if you were a lefty you either learned to be a righty, which I eventually did, or you failed at art). When we were made to drink water out of a communal glass after our token cookie, I informed the teachers that we were sharing germs (for which I was labeled a smart ass), but story time was my favorite. I would be enthralled watching the ancient pastor talk of the flood and the ark, Jonah and the whale, and poor old Job. I had many, many questions about what this all had to do with being good. I was such a serious little pupil that the old pastor finally approached my parents about me joining the church because of my "special spiritual nature". They flatly refused because as my dad stated, "those bible thumpers didn't believe in dancing, drinking or TV", and so I was given a Bible and sent on my way. My mom tried her best to give me a Catholic upbringing, but again I had too many smart assed questions, "Why do the Indians have to go to hell just because they don't understand our language"? I never got good answers, only punishment. I was determined to find a religion that felt right for me by studying, going to other churches, but finally in adulthood I just gave up. So now, I meditate, reflect, recite Celtic prayers with an Earth based philosophy, and I do the Runes when I want to explore the depths of myself. Runes are stones with a form of Scandinavian symbol that randomly chosen corresponds to a meaning that helps guide the believer to a greater self awareness. Over time, you begin to see which meaning needs the most attention in order to better know yourself. The one most frequently chosen by and for me is Eihwaz, the counsel of patience. I know this is true as I yell at other drivers even when I am the passenger, yell at a boss when my bonus is meager, and generally get testy when things don't go my way. So lately I have been feeling very patient (having lost my job and given away my car) and yet I am trying to convince myself that the universe will know when the time is right for my house to be sold, so a new adventure can begin. I can almost taste it! But yet again when I consult the Runes about the timing for this great occurrence ......(you can guess), Eihwaz was drawn.

Neptunefest

What a weekend it was! The highlight of course was visiting our son Colin at his new apartment in VA beach. Now talk about a good sport, Colin had spent the week in Chicago on a business trip and graciously agreed to host us for the Neptunefest in VA Beach. We arrived before his plane to Norfolk did, and so we went to the main strip in town where all the action is, and stopped in a local raw bar for a beer and a snack. The music was rap and heavy metal, the decor was dark surf city and the clientele was young. I ordered a pint of Longboard draft and got a small plastic cup instead (I don't think they served pints or had any glasses). After spotting the "employees must wash hands" sign over an empty paper towel rack, we decided against the raw bar or any snacks for that matter, but we were in time for the Neptune parade. As we sipped our beer and watched 50 or so fire trucks and ambulances ride by, I wondered when the Neptune or mermaid floats would arrive, but they never did. It was a very disappointing parade, but.. no matter, we grabbed a slice of  pizza and headed to Colin's apartment. We found the complex but did not take in account that it would be dark and you just couldn't see the numbers. Undaunted, I got out of the car and walked around hunting for his apartment while trying not to appear suspicious. Now I know why they refer to these luxury apartments as a complex... they are. Luckily Colin arrived and lead the way, and then ordered Chinese takeout for his two weary guests. The next day we went to the beach to watch Colin surf, and how exciting it was to see him catch a wave!  It started raining, but within my prediction of 10 minutes tops, the sun came out and Gerry and I were frolicking in the surf. We had a full day at the beach and got back to the apartment for the WVU game (Colin's alma mater). I did the usual Mom cleaning routine, mostly because I find football boring as his apartment was pretty darned clean. At dinnertime, we hailed a cab and went to the Neptune festival. There were people of all ages and the wealthy were drinking and partying right along side of the not so wealthy. It was a truly diverse crowd and live bands kept pace with the frenzy of the crowd. A giant Neptune, in all his glory was looking down at the partying crowd, and so I knew this night would not disappoint. After a great seafood dinner and many cocktails, we wandered over to the band area, got some beer, and Gerry and Colin listened and laughed as I danced myself silly. The night went by so fast and we had such fun, even waiting for a cab to come by and take us home was a riot, even though it was 3 hours past our usual bedtime. The next morning I was a little crunchy, but Gerry got up and made breakfast and we headed home while Colin headed back to the beach to surf. What a great son we have that made us feel as friends and not old folks. We are so proud of him! 

Going Backwards in Time

Today as I was taking a walk to the grocery store, it dawned on me that without a car, I have gone back to a happy and simpler time. Before I got my license, I walked all over town to get the things I needed. Every Saturday I walked to the public library to take out a stack of books for the week, always taking time to watch clouds, notice flowers, rocks and trees and pick up pretty leaves or feathers to be used as my bookmarks. I loved to go to the supermarket with my Grandmother, as we would take the long walk from my house to market where she would buy me a soda to go along with the lunch she would prepare at home. This was a big deal because soda was only allowed at birthday parties in our house. My choices were either Fresca or Mountain Dew. Grandma wasn't a big talker, so I learned to walk in silence. I also enjoyed riding my bike to Victor Crowell Park, otherwise known as "the duckpond", early in the morning to watch the sun come up and shine so beautifully on the water. I could sit and watch the ducks and geese who swam there for hours. It was most beautiful in the fall when all the leaves changed colors. Today I relived all those memories in the present tense and felt exactly the same as I did when I was a kid. I didn't feel old, or worried, or impatient... I just felt alive. I watched the gray clouds cover the sun, and as I passed the duckpond I picked up two beautiful maple leaves whose colors were changing. I also got the bonus of a beautiful goose feather as a souvenir. And to reward myself for the long walk to the store I had a Fresca (with a straw in it) when I returned home and then made an arrangement of my treasures. It's funny but when it comes to your inner self things don't really change that much. 

Note: Many of the photos in the slideshow to the right were taken at the duckpond.

My Money Laundering Scheme

As a women without a job, I can tell you that finances are a little tight right now..especially when it comes to my own petty cash. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and so I am admitting guilt to my crime. My only victims at this point are my husband and son, but I have been rewarded handsomely with their inattention to financial detail. My husband is a money stuffer when it comes to certain purchases. The crumpled change will go into one of his pants pockets, as he is joking or flirting with the cashier. As he also is a clothes dropper and I am the picker upper, this makes my work easy. The clothes go into the hamper (I do check pockets for the wallet as I am not that interested in his credit cards or license), I gather them into the laundry basket and then ask if he will carry it down two flights of stairs to the basement. In this way I give him another chance to check his own pockets, so I'm really not that evil about it. Once they are in the basement it is my domain. I don't check the pockets directly before they go into the washing machine because I really do like clean money. Sometimes I am rewarded after the spin cycle with wet money that I carefully dry before it is slipped into my own wallet. More often than not, I get my payload after the drying cycle, which saves me some time. I have to be careful  because if the money is folded and dried, it could be mistaken for lint and thrown into the trash. There are dangers at work here. My son's contribution to my account is never in cash dollars because as a mother I have principles. His pockets are usually carrying various nuts, bolts and small tools that often give the dryer a headache, but the jangling also includes change that goes into my kitty. He thinks I am just being nice by offering to do his laundry so often. That change, added to what is found at the bottom of my pocketbook, along with my husband's pockets gives me a quarterly return of about $74. The larger bills are less frequent than the change, but yesterday I hit bingo with a $20 reward. Not bad work for a woman who almost didn't pass a finance class in grad school because her motto was, "money just comes."

Gunnar Needs a Home

I'm so very proud of my daughter for donating her time and home to the wonderful cause of being a halfway home for unwanted dogs. She works with a rescue foundation that saves dogs from being put to sleep. Always the animal lover, she can't bear to see an animal suffer for lack of a home. Our family has come to love many of the dogs that she cared for prior to them being adopted by new parents. Now she needs some help, as her current foster dog does not care much for her bulldog Lily (my grandbaby) and her cats are driving him nuts. He so hates cats that the Petsmart where she takes her foster dogs to be seen by prospective parents dismissed him because the cats in cages made him go berserk. He really needs a home where he can be top dog.  

So here is his information and picture. Please ask around.

Breed -Boxer/English Pointer Mix

He loves to chase rabbits and squirrels-no matter where they are-he's known to try to climb trees without success.

He does "donuts" in the yard when he has too much energy-very funny!

He is crate trained (with promise of a treat).

He loves to play 2-way fetch-you throw the ball and he fetches it-then you have to fetch it back to throw again.

He loves to sit on your lap no matter that he is 60 lbs. and growing. He'll find a way.

He loves to go visit the neighbors to see what they are up to-fence or no fence in between them.

You want to lose weight- take this guy for a walk. It's cardio and weight training in one!

He is neutered and at 1 year old his puppyhood is almost over.

He wants to learn-he already knows he has to sit for his water and food.

He is a jumper, so don't turn your back on him-he'll want to jump on you and tell you playtime is NOT over yet!

Tara's email is taralee118@yahoo.com 

Another Joyous Holiday

What I think we need in these times of crisis is more holidays... those joyous days of ritual, celebration and good old fun. Now I know what you're probably thinking...ye gads but that just adds more stress i.e shopping, spending, cooking, cleaning, not to mention the worry over who should be invited. Now, I'm not talking about frenzied preparations associated with the major calendar holidays, but rather the quiet, personal ones that mark an important event or turning point. I happen to celebrate the change of seasons on both the Equinoxes and Solstices and they are among my favorites. Today is the Autumn Equinox and to allow my husband to join in the festivities, we celebrated on Saturday night (when you create your own holiday you can pick the day that seems right regardless of what the calendar says). As the day began, we wished each other a Happy Holiday with a kiss. We went about our usual routine but centered a lot of the time on creating something special. My husband (who is the chef in our home) chose to make a Lebanese lamb stew featuring fresh garden tomatoes and okra. It was so wonderfully spiced that the whole house took on a holiday fragrance that no candle could match. We both love poetry, so he and I chose poems that reminded us of fall, and following our special meal, retired to the patio with Otis (my bunny) and our holiday cocktails. We sat and watched the leaves falling, the sun setting, our rabbit playing, and got giddy and silly in each other's company. At dusk we read our poems to each other and then lit a small bonfire in the fire bowl. We looked forward to hearing Van Morrison's, Autumn Song, but since our ipod died that day, we were content with the sound of birds and crickets. After the fire died down we enjoyed a special dessert (there is never any dieting on a holiday) and the night ended with sighs of contentment and a kiss. No budget was harmed in the making of this holiday and I look forward to the next. That will be Pumpkin Day. No, not Halloween, but the buying of the pumpkin for Halloween, that should come in about two weeks. I can hardly wait!

Early Winter

What a transition day it is! Yesterday I was in shorts and sandals, all windows open as the cool breeze blew in to give an autumnal freshness to the interior of my home. The sun shone against the occasional falling leaf, and summer's end was at hand. Today as I woke up late at 6:30 AM, it dawned on me that the sun was sleeping in too.  As I pushed the comforter off and swung my legs off the edge of the bed, I was hit with a blast of cold air that sent me searching for the fuzzy slippers and real clothes to put over the sleeveless nightdress that is my morning loungewear. The hot coffee mug felt wonderful against my cold hands, and I needed to wrap a couch blanket around  me as I sat in front of the morning news. "A beautiful day" was all the weatherman kept saying. Although chilled, I reasoned that it would warm up when the sun came up. At 10 AM I shut all of the windows. At noon I pushed the thermostat to 65, just to take the chill away. At 1 PM I added a sweater to my jean and long sleeved tee and decided that since I was so cold, it would be a great day to curl up on the couch with a book and a blanket and so that is what I did. It is now 4PM and it feels really cold. The sun did make an appearance, but mostly he stayed hidden behind the graying October-like clouds, and it just felt dark and damp. I'll make the first cup of hot tea that I've had since May, just to warm up my hands. The autumn equinox comes on the 22, but today I have had a sneak preview of winter, and I'm already hoping for an Indian summer. 

The Final Insult

I have been trying very hard to make this site a pleasant, day to day account of a middle-aged, middle class, corporate escapee, who usually in times of crisis sees the glass half full. But today, I digress. The current economic fallout has pissed me off to the point that I cannot shut up about it. Here is how I see it in a way that my poor, blue collar, retired arthritic father, with no Internet would describe it. "Well, it's all about greed. These corporate types got so confused about the "good books" and the "cooked books," and since accounting is such a low class job where accuracy and ethics might interfere, it was done away with". So bring on the gamblers, who with greater bravado, and money that was not their own, played high roller for a few good years. Yahoo! Now, the bravado has turned into a wimpy help call, and the very people who had their nickels and quarters stolen at the slots, so the bullies could play baccarat, will now have to foot the bill for the gambling debts of their nemesis! So you who are on unemployment and barely making ends meet, can do your duty to some lying, thieving, CEO and his glamour queen wife, so they can get their due severance of about 8 times the amount of money you will ever see in your life, to go away and live humbly in one of their many homes somewhere. Boo hoo. While you were too busy worrying over the antics of Britany Spears, or waiting for the  Lady Luck Lottery to bring you your millions, you should have been paying attention to who your elected officials were and what they were up to. They deregulated everything under this evil administration and now we have a world that is economically sinking like the Titanic. Kinda makes you wonder what kind of education is actually working in this country right now.  As an RN, AS, BS, and MS degreed person on unemployment, I feel guilty too. My solace is the vote I will clearly cast in Nov...it's probably all that's left to bet on. 

The Dramatic Quit

For the umpteeth time since my teens, I have again decided to break the cigarette habit. I had been successful for stints of varied abstinence, so I'm definitely not a loser, but this time a new revelation has literally smacked me in the face and kicked me in the knees. I've known for some time now that when you quit, there is always a drama that arises to test your resolve. Most times it is a fight with a family member, in which the martyr (myself) will always seek the solace of a few good smoky inhales... just this once (translation-just go buy a pack). Sometimes the drama comes as a overreaction to a news event such as 911 or global warming in which the ego yells, "grab your pleasures now cause you're gonna die anyway"! Even when the outlook is good the ego whispers a sweet talk, "you deserve to reward yourself, stop worrying, everything is fine." Well, Monday I armed myself with a nicotine patch, skipped my evening cocktail and had a wonderful nights sleep. It didn't take the ego long to catch up with me. Yesterday after a day of one too many iced teas and a patch that really stayed on all day, I went to bed with a flight of ideas and list of to-dos that made me feel like a bipolar maniac. Feeling thirsty and mentally crazy, I ripped off the patch and headed down to the kitchen (in the pitch dark) to fetch  a drink of water. I forgot that the rabbit gate was still barricading the kitchen, walked full force into it, and crash landed face down upon the kitchen floor. It took a full second for me to realize what happened, and then the pain set in. I got the water and limped back to bed. The ego started right in, "maybe a nice glass of whiskey and... ahem, a cigarette would help." "See, the universe is telling you that you are too hard on yourself." Could it be that SOB (Ego) was actually capable of hurting me over a lousy cigarette?  I didn't allow myself to get mad, but I got even as I hobbled down this morning to slap a fresh new patch on my arm. I guess this is warfare, and seeing the length at which the drama has surfaced has given me a great resolve to be victorious this time.

A Wander with Wonder

Over the past 12 years I have made it part of my exercise routine to take a 20 minute walk around the block. It started as an easy means to shed excess weight, and has morphed into what I now refer to as a wander. In the beginning, I would get dressed into the outfit of an exerciser and stridently walk as fast as I could with arms swinging and mind set to review all the worries that could possible enter. This was also the time to vent out things that made me angry, and I marched out all the little petty injustices that seemed to short circuit my mood. A brisk power walk truly became my stress buster. Little by little though, I seemed to build up a tolerance for the walking, and instead of focusing on what was going on in my own mind, I started noticing what was going on around me. The sounds of birds, the sights of new flowers in a neighbor's garden, the moon glistening on snow, all caught my fleeting attention. As years went by dancing, pilates, and biking supplemented the walk for fitness purposes, and meditation and reflection became better channels to relieve stress. As I took my walking stroll today, I realize that this is my time to watch the world around me as I float by. I watch the seasons change as evidenced by the activity of the birds and squirrels, the sky changes with colors and clouds, even the same neighborhood changes as people are ever improving their houses and yards...  I notice and appreciate. Everything seen on my wander enchants me; today it was a huge toadstool that looked like a brown and white beach umbrella. I feel like a child again as I wonder about all the sights and sounds that come my way. There is so much to see and hear and notice, that any walk of worry now seems like a good wander spoiled.

Dust Settles but Memories Linger

 One of the old houses on our block was recently sold, and although it was the victim of neglect amongst the proud homes that line our old established neighborhood, it was now devoid of any of the previously strangling foliage that all but hid the the front of it. The yard was completely stripped of every ancient tree, bush, and vine, and the house loomed lonely amongst the bare dirt and root piles. Surrounding the house were blue dumpsters that held various items of the massive yard clearing. As I road my bike towards the house this morning, a menacing sight caught my complete attention. A big yellow crane charged towards the gutted house, its neck outstretched, and its bucket head with the piecing fangs took a big chomp from the upper corner. There was a crunching of wood and and the tumbling of walls, as the iron beast swung it's ugly jaw of debris, and vomited into a waiting dumpster. I was thinking if this had been my home, I would probably be crying as I witnessed the savage attack on the past. Later in the day, I convinced myself that I needed a walk, and headed in the direction of the injured house. There was a big cloud of smoke where the house once stood, and the iron beast was chewing away at the concrete foundation. In less than a day, a house that stood for almost seven decades was gone. That home to many probably held fond memories of holiday celebrations, growing children, and the hustle and bustle of daily living. It may have also been home to tragedies, disillusions, and broken dreams, but these would have been well hidden behind doors and curtained windows. A house can keep a secret. Somewhere though, all these memories and secrets are being stored, shared, and remembered by it's past occupants, and its life was not lived in vain. Dust settles and a house is gone, but a home resides in the heart forever. 

One Crazy Nutbag

Today I had the humiliating experience of trying to retake my picture for my profile. My husband told me the other day that my writings were pretty good but my photo was atrocious. He then added that I looked like some kind of a crazy nutbag. Before I had the chance to react to his hurtful comment with my brand of pouty indignation, he quickly added, "I want people to see the real beauty that you are." The ego crasher turned masher was vindicated. My son gave his negative appraisal of my picture as "you look like a deer in the headlights." He then proceded to chide me for obviously taking a picture of myself against a wall, when our computer has a built in camera.  Who knew? So last night my husband found the photobooth application for me, and I painfully took pictures of myself (trying not to look like a nutbag). Now I am not known for my patience or my technical skills, and it became a lesson in futility. After about 12 shots and a movie clip (that I still don't know how it occurred),  I gave up and chose one that wasn't horrible. Now don't get me wrong, I love the camera when I am on the other side of it, snapping pictures of my beloved Nature, but this felt like torture. So, to my beloved....if this new profile photo doesn't suit my "beauty'', then I guess you can plan on spending Saturday taking glamour shots of me. As long as I don't have to look at them and choose. 

A Starry Remembrance

It started as a typical end of summer day, as I sat at my desk reading email, listening to the radio, and thinking of the start of a vacation getaway later that evening. A special report came to my attention with the announcement that a plane had just collided with the World Trade Center. I was stunned after a second plane was reported as crashing the second tower. Concern turned to horror as I realized this was no coincidence, we were being attacked. With a sick and sinking feeling I turned off my computer, packed my things, and left my building. Many employees were coming through the front door as I was leaving, some recounting the terrible news. As I rode home, I couldn't understand why people would continue to go to work, when it was now clear a war of sorts was in effect. Arriving home I immediately called my son who was headed for NYC that morning to install cellular equipment high upon some building. I hoped and prayed that he wasn't already high atop the fated towers. An hour passed and another plane crashed until I finally got a call from my son that he was OK, but had witnessed the collapse of the towers while on the road to NY. "It was horrible and I can't talk about it" is all he said. Crying from both relief and sadness I became glued to the TV trying to understand the senseless attacks. My husband came home from work as well, and quietly packed some belongings for our vacation and bid me into the car. As we drove along the Garden State Parkway, you could still see the smoldering fumes, which smelled like a whole world was burning. We rode in silence. Once at our motel along the Jersey shore we went to the beach bar to share the TV reports with other crestfallen vacationers. There was no laughing or running to the beach, only TV and refills on drinks. Later that night we took a blanket to the beach where the only sound was the occasional engine of a lone military plane that circled the area. The sea was quiet, the gulls were quiet, and moon was on the wane. Once darkness came, we laid down to look at the night sky. Suddenly there were flashes of light, a few at first, and then more coming with regularity. Shooting stars were lighting up the sky, clear and steady for what seemed like hours. In a search for hope, I thought of each star representing a person who perished during the vile attacks. These "stars" were not lost, but were finding their way to a safe place, where together they might set the stage for a better future somewhere. It's still the only way I can cope with the grief of so many loved ones.

I Love My Rabbit

Today I'd like to share the joy that my rabbit Otis has brought to me over the last year. He is a dutch dwarf that came to our home last June from a local breeder. I was feeling a little lonely at the time (as I suppose many women my age do) and because I was working long hours I wanted a pet who would not feel neglected by being home alone through much of the day. Well rabbits are crepuscular, meaning that they are most active at dawn and dusk, so it seemed a rabbit was a perfect pet for my schedule. He gives me a reason to want to get out of bed before sunup, as he is very fond of blueberries first thing in the morning. He will wait by his bowl knowing they are coming out of the fridge and eats them with his eyes closed. Once he has had enough, he will hop around the kitchen perimeter, inspecting every corner as if it is the first time he has ever been there. If I lay down on the kitchen floor he will hop over and give me little rabbit kisses all over my face. Sometimes he will even pluck a stray eyebrow from my face, but always very gently. I always take time to sit him on my lap and stroke him gently and tell him what a good boy he is. He will sigh and close his eyes and kiss my arm in appreciation. Just like a child, he barely plays with the many purchased bunny toys, but loves to hide in, and chew a simple cardboard box that we have cut holes as windows and doors. One of his tricks is to put his little nose out the window of his box and greedily grab a baby carrot from our fingers. He will chew and chew until it is eaten, and then amuse us by jumping on top of his cardboard house to rip the top layer of paper and nibble that too. Most of the day Otis will lay on the shelf of his cage with his little paws crossed in prayer fashion. He seems to be able to meditate for hours, occasionally stretching, and nibbling his timothy grass or his kibble. But in the evenings Otis can't wait to be let outside on the front porch to run and hop and jump to all the outside sounds. He even seems to have somewhat of a preference when it comes to music. If he doesn't care for it he will lay inside of his house, but if it pleases him he will sit quietly on top of his house with both ears up. He was named in honor of my favorite singer, Otis Redding, because when we first brought him home my husband pointed out that he had a lot of soul. And yes, he enjoys the music of Otis Redding as much as we do.

A Great Vacation Tumble

We just returned from our vacation weekend in Ocean City, MD, and because of a visit from Tropical Storm Hanna, it was an excellent trip! I almost forgot just how fun the beach is, and how if you suspend your adultness for a more spontaneous version of yourself, the greatest fun can occur. Like children, when me and my man vacation there are no rules, plans or judgements. We sleep til we feel like getting up, eat when and what we want, take a nap when the spirit moves us, and drink in greater excess than our usual moderation. On Saturday morning a short trip to the local store turned into a ride to the boardwalk, just as Hanna was racing towards the MD shore. We were able to wander down the boardwalk until the rain came, watching people of all sizes and shapes parade by us, watching struggling surfers from off a pier, as well as watching a corrugated tin roof being slowly pulled from off one of the local pubs by the increasing winds (that was our cue to leave). Once back at the hotel, we donned our weatherman parkas to play on the beach in the 35 mph winds and the steady rain. Though the seas were angry, a small tide pool formed on the beach where we could frolic in the water amongst the seagulls. Our patience was greatly rewarded on Sunday, as the sun came out, the winds died down, and the waves became the very best for playing in. At low tide we were able to walk past the shells to a drop-off to our waist, where, after a few swimming strides a sandbar gradually  appeared. Here, the breaking waves came rolling at us as big cascades of cool foamy sea. Most of the rolling foam allowed us to keep our balance, and occasionally we got to jump up with a clear surfing wave, but the best fun was had with the huge breaking waves that seemed to grab at our ankles and pull us into a somersault of foamy sea and sand. Oh the joy of being a kid again! Since we were the only two crazy people actually in the water, there was no worry that either of us would be beached into someone's mom or dad to whom we would have to apologize. No, it was too dangerous for kids to be in the water, and there was a serious lack of adults who longed to be kids, so we had the whole ocean to ourselves. There was a repeat of foamy tumbling fun on Monday morning before we had to leave for home. We had the best time doing the usual vacation things, but the best fun was had as a great tumble in the sea.

Savoring Summer Sights and Sounds

The awaited call comes informing me that there are two prospective buyers for my home of 12 years. As I sit in my front porch rocker, I know I must linger to notice the wonderful sights and sounds that have kept me company these many months of summer. As I gently rock and gaze up at the hazy blue sky with the pink tinged clouds, I hear the quiet chirping of the crickets as a black butterfly floats before me just long enough for me to glimpse its pale shimmering speckles. A blue jay lets out its taunting scream in a distant tree, as one lone carpenter ant zig zags crazily across the porch. A hot breeze sends down a few crisp leaves from the linden tree as two yellow jackets chase my hummingbird from his long beaked sip from the feeder. I have come to feel an affection for Mrs. Personality, who is a squirrel we named at summers beginning. She stealthily creeps on the shaded ground to grab a cracker thrown for her after last nights porch snack. It's as big as her little head, yet she holds it with her two tiny paws and munches it it circular fashion until it is small enough to greedily carry it up the tree. A daddy long leg makes his slow deliberate journey to my sandaled foot, and lifts a leg as if to say hello. I smile, as it seems he can discern an appreciative eye for his gentle being. I hear an occasional car drive by, although my vision is obscured by the unruly growth of the scotch broom that rises above the porch rail and is the perfect hiding place for the catbirds that visit. Another slight movement of air draws my attention to the gentle tinkling of my wind chimes and the twirling color of my sun catcher. I try to catch and store these sights and sounds that have given me such quiet joy this summer, as I prepare for the sale that will send me to my new home somewhere out in America.   

Wendilea for President

I was excitedly discussing politics with some close friends this past weekend, and I got to thinking about formalizing my personal platform in the event I were to run for the presidency. I think it is a good idea to know where you stand, so as to not be distracted by the media politicodrama that avoids the issues and broadcasts the gossip, like a tattletale on the playground. In this way I can be sure that I am making the most informed choice by comparing my platform to that of the candidates.

1. I would immediately pull our troops out of Iraq with an apology to everyone stating that we never should have attacked in the first place. There is plenty of work for our military to do without getting killed in a foreign land for a foreign cause. 

2. Every taxpayer would have the opportunity to send their taxes where they think the greatest need for spending is. Since we have so many agencies under the umbrella of our various departments (defense, education, transportation etc.) this could be done with a checkbox on the tax form itself. Then everyone will really have a say where their hard earned money goes.

3. It should be mandatory for our oil companies to take half of their profit and put it into safe  alternatives for energy. Since they seem to brag about their profits, they should foot the bill for the building of windmills, solar panels and hydroelectricity generators.

4. We need a brand new fishing and hunting industry that will rid the oceans and landfills of plastic garbage and recycle it. It seems there is enough plastic polluting the world and instead of making more (wasting petroleum) we should develop industries that can reuse what we discard.

5. Healthcare should be provided to all people and the insurance companies (not citizens) need to subsidize those who can't pay. If they aren't willing to do this then they should be made to perform as non-profit. This would also work well for the pharmaceutical companies.

6. Every child deserves a decent education and the schools need a complete overhaul. There should be more choices for students to learn various trades instead of placing so much focus on the college bound. The school day should be in sync with the workday, which means more teachers that will have the ability to work shifts and teachers in poorer communities should be highly paid. A students should have a free college education, B students pay a little more etc. A D student should be mentored into a trade program that will fit their talent, and all education should be subsidized by all the Fortune 500 companies. 

7. We need to remain a free country and our borders should be open to all people who want to make the USA their home. However, immigrants must work towards successfully learning the language, gaining citizenship, finding employment, and paying taxes. Community and business leaders should sponsor the new settlers, and corporations that do business in the countries from which the immigrants come from should foot the bill for the sponsorships, and for deportations for those who are badly behaved. If it is made easier to come here legally, perhaps we would not have all the problems of the illegal factor.

8. We need to decriminalize drug abuse in which no crime is committed. Instead, the profits made from alcohol, tobacco and pharmaceuticals should pay for the building of rehab centers all across America, especially in the inner cities, and then employ the very people who they are successfully treating. Prisons for the criminal offenders need to perform as factories for manufactured goods, where everyone has a job instead of just caged housing between crimes.

9. A complete ban should be placed on any food that contains the following: MSG, high fructose corn syrup, hydrogenated vegetable oil, transfats. Any product that contains these ingredients should not be labeled as food. These ingredients can be offered to the public for addition to food, but they would be labeled as chemical enhancers.

10. Social security needs to be funded with the money saved on the war and war related contracts effective immediately. No senior citizen should ever worry about where they will live or how they will eat if we are to be considered a civilized society. If you have worked your whole life (motherhood included) and find that you can no longer work at age 60, you should be funded by the collective family of employers and family members who have profitted from your labor. 

And that's just the tip of the iceburg.

  

Love from my Beatles

Friday night I celebrated my birthday with my best friend (who happens to be my husband) while listening to my favorite album from my favorite group of all time. The Beatles Love album is the best collection of all of their songs and each takes me on a tour down memory lane right through my childhood. Following my own advice (see entry Aug, 26, 2008) I decided that it was the perfect night to sing with all the lyrics that I know by heart. When "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" came on, I was right back in my grandparents living room watching the Ed Sullivan show and seeing what can only be described as a very spiritual moment. Those four young men came from England and charted a whole new course for the young people of America. Though I was only 7, I was deeply moved by their music and understood only that they sang of love. Songs such as "Love Me Do", "And I Love Her", "Can't Buy Me Love" and "All You Need is Love" were sang over and over by every kid in our neighborhood, and even the parents eventually got on board with songs such as "Michelle", "Something", and "Good Day Sunshine". When I was  very young my favorite Beatles were Ringo and Paul, as they were the cutest Beatles. However, as I grew older and was able to understand about the serious events in the world, my allegiance shifted to John and George for their tremendous positive social impact.  It felt so good to sing and reminisce and when Strawberry Fields Forever came on, I felt a fleeting sadness knowing that my two favs were no longer in the world. As I sat alone singing (while my husband went inside to refresh the cocktails that gave me the nerve to sing so loud), I felt the distinct presence of John on my left and George on my right, singing along with me as loving friends would do. Oh what a thrilling moment it was!!  Now you may think that this was a case of wishful thinking, or a whiskey induced hallucination....no matter. I had the BEST birthday with a little help from my friends!!!