Dear President Obama and Members of the Democratic Party Leadership:
STOP trying to be reasonable with the Republicans, just STOP.
They are not bargaining in good faith, they are incapable of doing so if they want to achieve their agenda, they will take every concession you make and use it against you, and they will never act for the good of the citizens of this country.
We are in a critical time, and should you give in to the demands of cutting everything and no new revenues, particularly not on the oil industry or the ultra rich, you will be selling us all down the river of continuing depression (it's not a recession, there are over 25% unemployed), increasing foreclosures, soaring homelessness and complete loss of respect and trust by the rest of the world.
By trying to be the better person and reach a consensus, you are giving away much of the birthright of our children. Things that my parents and grandparents fought for their whole lives - decent working conditions, child labor laws, pay equity, food safety, the right to medical care, a small measure of security for old age.
What do our children and grandchildren have to look forward to in their lives in this country? Less opportunities in education, longer working hours for lower wages, inability to become homeowners, decreasing access to medical care, no option to retire?
Please, STOP, and stand for what we elected you to do. Represent us. Protect our rights and our futures.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
On school days and such
I was just reading a friend's blog, he is one of the funniest people I know, and one of the deepest also. This entry was about being the fat kid in school and it really resonated with me - no, not from me being the fat kid, but how we are so shaped by our "educational" experiences.
I was not the fat kid, in fact, I was so skinny that my Grandmother gave me tonic to stimulate my appetite when I was a teen. I was almost always the new kid, there were 16 school changes in my sojourn from 1st to 12th grade, miraculously completed in the usual 12 years. Sometimes we moved so often the school records didn't keep up with us so my mom started getting them and hand carrying them to the new school.
School started for me in a one room building with six grades represented within the student body of 12 or 14 of us, many of whom were cousins of mine. Our teacher was Miss Dick, which was really difficult for a lisping 6 year old, and my dad would tease me by calling her Miss Stick because that's evidently how it sounded when I said it. It was super compounded the next year, when we moved to the new "big" school with 3 rooms, and went up to grade 7, and Miss Dick got married and became Mrs. Sinema. There is no mercy for little kids!
Isn't it funny what details you remember?
I did what most kids did at the time, took a lunch or walked home and ate. Pretty great actually compared to what I found out later about schools that had cafeterias.
In second grade, about halfway through the year, we moved from the lower mainland of rural B.C. to the rural north of Wisconsin. That was pretty blissful from a 7 year old viewpoint because my Mom taught me at home and I had a lot of time to play or read because I could complete everything as quickly as I wanted. There were many opportunities to skate on the street, build snow forts and funny kinds of igloos, and play with some kids who lived up the street and had a fox in in their yard (tied to a dog house). Back in those days they parked old cars on the river and made bets on when they would go through the ice. Can you even imagine doing that now?
There were so many moves after that it was hard to keep track for a while, we went to the north west Washington peninsula, then back to the first school for a half year each, then it went crazy, hopping all over - Texas, Washington, Tennessee, Oregon, Kentucky, Washington, Oklahoma, until finally to start junior high in school number 15 in central Washington. And, we stayed, for three years!!
You can't possibly imagine how horrible that is, unless you have been the new kid 14 times, and don't know how to stay anywhere. I had kind of gotten used to the rudeness of teachers, assuming since I started in Canada or moved so often I must be behind whatever level my mother was saying I need to be assigned to . Or, assuming since we often rented mobile homes, that we were "trailer trash" and treating us accordingly. Fortunately, I was up to or ahead of the pack academically, so didn't end up being put back anywhere.
The venality of some teachers couldn't compare to the ability of children to be absolutely horrible, from the casual snubs because you are new or have funny clothes, to the deliberately mean and vicious.
At least I wasn't fat, I had glasses by grade 3, was a head taller than the other kids and a penchant for weird clothes (that was mostly in Jr high and high school when one of my mom's friends gave me her cast offs, most of which were designer duds - very stylish if you were 30 something and lived in a big city, not so much if you were 13 and living in some totally backward trash heap - but they fit).
Jr. High was in a lovely summer resort town, the redeeming factors were having a lake, a horse, a dog and a friend. We lived 100 yards from the lake and had so much freedom. On non school days, we left the house in the morning and came in for meals and since there was a party line that all the moms used to call us in if they needed us, no one cared.
I had just kind of adjusted to staying and another mid-year Christmas time move happened - on to school 16. Good God, it was beyond belief: small minded, bigoted, primitive, over-religious, sanctimonious, you name it, it was there. And, a ferocious mean-ness for anyone not of the in-bred local clan. The decent, kind and considerate were so rare they still stand out in memory. The best thing from high school happened in my senior year, just before I dropped out, we got a new music teacher. He was a phenom, and brought a life long love of music to a new level with skill and humor. He became friends with the whole family and we still see him.
Since we moved many times outside of the school year also, by the time I was 20 I had 61 addresses.
When I look at the rare pictures of me from then I am amazed. I don't look at all like the image I had of me. I had always thought I was a big, clumsy, ugly kid. Evidently not, but I've been trying to get over that ever since.
More later on the fat kid stuff and weight.....
I was not the fat kid, in fact, I was so skinny that my Grandmother gave me tonic to stimulate my appetite when I was a teen. I was almost always the new kid, there were 16 school changes in my sojourn from 1st to 12th grade, miraculously completed in the usual 12 years. Sometimes we moved so often the school records didn't keep up with us so my mom started getting them and hand carrying them to the new school.
School started for me in a one room building with six grades represented within the student body of 12 or 14 of us, many of whom were cousins of mine. Our teacher was Miss Dick, which was really difficult for a lisping 6 year old, and my dad would tease me by calling her Miss Stick because that's evidently how it sounded when I said it. It was super compounded the next year, when we moved to the new "big" school with 3 rooms, and went up to grade 7, and Miss Dick got married and became Mrs. Sinema. There is no mercy for little kids!
Isn't it funny what details you remember?
I did what most kids did at the time, took a lunch or walked home and ate. Pretty great actually compared to what I found out later about schools that had cafeterias.
In second grade, about halfway through the year, we moved from the lower mainland of rural B.C. to the rural north of Wisconsin. That was pretty blissful from a 7 year old viewpoint because my Mom taught me at home and I had a lot of time to play or read because I could complete everything as quickly as I wanted. There were many opportunities to skate on the street, build snow forts and funny kinds of igloos, and play with some kids who lived up the street and had a fox in in their yard (tied to a dog house). Back in those days they parked old cars on the river and made bets on when they would go through the ice. Can you even imagine doing that now?
There were so many moves after that it was hard to keep track for a while, we went to the north west Washington peninsula, then back to the first school for a half year each, then it went crazy, hopping all over - Texas, Washington, Tennessee, Oregon, Kentucky, Washington, Oklahoma, until finally to start junior high in school number 15 in central Washington. And, we stayed, for three years!!
You can't possibly imagine how horrible that is, unless you have been the new kid 14 times, and don't know how to stay anywhere. I had kind of gotten used to the rudeness of teachers, assuming since I started in Canada or moved so often I must be behind whatever level my mother was saying I need to be assigned to . Or, assuming since we often rented mobile homes, that we were "trailer trash" and treating us accordingly. Fortunately, I was up to or ahead of the pack academically, so didn't end up being put back anywhere.
The venality of some teachers couldn't compare to the ability of children to be absolutely horrible, from the casual snubs because you are new or have funny clothes, to the deliberately mean and vicious.
At least I wasn't fat, I had glasses by grade 3, was a head taller than the other kids and a penchant for weird clothes (that was mostly in Jr high and high school when one of my mom's friends gave me her cast offs, most of which were designer duds - very stylish if you were 30 something and lived in a big city, not so much if you were 13 and living in some totally backward trash heap - but they fit).
Jr. High was in a lovely summer resort town, the redeeming factors were having a lake, a horse, a dog and a friend. We lived 100 yards from the lake and had so much freedom. On non school days, we left the house in the morning and came in for meals and since there was a party line that all the moms used to call us in if they needed us, no one cared.
I had just kind of adjusted to staying and another mid-year Christmas time move happened - on to school 16. Good God, it was beyond belief: small minded, bigoted, primitive, over-religious, sanctimonious, you name it, it was there. And, a ferocious mean-ness for anyone not of the in-bred local clan. The decent, kind and considerate were so rare they still stand out in memory. The best thing from high school happened in my senior year, just before I dropped out, we got a new music teacher. He was a phenom, and brought a life long love of music to a new level with skill and humor. He became friends with the whole family and we still see him.
Since we moved many times outside of the school year also, by the time I was 20 I had 61 addresses.
When I look at the rare pictures of me from then I am amazed. I don't look at all like the image I had of me. I had always thought I was a big, clumsy, ugly kid. Evidently not, but I've been trying to get over that ever since.
More later on the fat kid stuff and weight.....
Sunday, January 30, 2011
dinner at a really nice restaurant and a sense of loss
Yep, linen, silver and all. We went out for Mom's 84th, which was actually the 19th, but this is when we could all get there. Dad set it up, of course, Mom did the reservations and calling us to be there, but he's feeling well enough to orchestrate.
It was really good to get together with my sibs and thier spouses and celebrate the survival of this past year. It has been a real roller coaster, and I am hereby declaring that 2011 is going to be a much better, less stressful year all around.
2010 came in with some issues, Dad became progressively more ill and ended up in the hospital several times. Mom was frightened and anxious. By May it was obvious that surgery was Dad's only option, and he had investigated the alternatives, so he had an aortic valve replacement in June.
While doing most of the support care taking, because they live closest, my brother and his wife also had to deal with her Dad's decline and eventual death to cancer.
By September Dad was failing again and the determination was made that the stitches weren't holding and the leakage was causing the red blood cells to be sheared, and he was also extremely anemic. Two days before Thanksgiving he went back into surgery for the "full meal deal", a complete medial sternotomy, cracked chest/ ribs spread/ open heart. It was tough, there were problems during surgery and he was on the heart-lung machine a long time, including having to restart it when they discovered a leak before closing and they had to go back and see if they could find it. Evidently most of the leak was sealed, although the surgeon told me he couldn't see it, there was no loss into the cavity but he put in stitches where it showed on the ultra sound.
Now, he's organizing dinners for Mom. And, he gave her a wonderful toast - apologizing for losing his composure, but a great tribute to all of her support and effort over the year.
It was a really great evening, except Himself didn't feel well enough to go, but I was happy to be with my family, and am blessed with a BIL and SIL who are superb people. And reminded again that it is very special and unique to have parents who have been married for 61+years and still love each other.
The sense of loss stuff is a totally different issue, changes. Two weeks ago my director went on administrative leave pending investigations of performance issues; and, my local pharmacist and grocery told us they are closing, where we've done business for 26 years; then, last weekend my minister announced she is retiring. Honestly, I really don't want to deal with changes like this, at least it's 3 and so that should be done with, if you believe my Scottish grandmother.
I just want a calm year, with good health, happiness and employment for all.
It was really good to get together with my sibs and thier spouses and celebrate the survival of this past year. It has been a real roller coaster, and I am hereby declaring that 2011 is going to be a much better, less stressful year all around.
2010 came in with some issues, Dad became progressively more ill and ended up in the hospital several times. Mom was frightened and anxious. By May it was obvious that surgery was Dad's only option, and he had investigated the alternatives, so he had an aortic valve replacement in June.
While doing most of the support care taking, because they live closest, my brother and his wife also had to deal with her Dad's decline and eventual death to cancer.
By September Dad was failing again and the determination was made that the stitches weren't holding and the leakage was causing the red blood cells to be sheared, and he was also extremely anemic. Two days before Thanksgiving he went back into surgery for the "full meal deal", a complete medial sternotomy, cracked chest/ ribs spread/ open heart. It was tough, there were problems during surgery and he was on the heart-lung machine a long time, including having to restart it when they discovered a leak before closing and they had to go back and see if they could find it. Evidently most of the leak was sealed, although the surgeon told me he couldn't see it, there was no loss into the cavity but he put in stitches where it showed on the ultra sound.
Now, he's organizing dinners for Mom. And, he gave her a wonderful toast - apologizing for losing his composure, but a great tribute to all of her support and effort over the year.
It was a really great evening, except Himself didn't feel well enough to go, but I was happy to be with my family, and am blessed with a BIL and SIL who are superb people. And reminded again that it is very special and unique to have parents who have been married for 61+years and still love each other.
The sense of loss stuff is a totally different issue, changes. Two weeks ago my director went on administrative leave pending investigations of performance issues; and, my local pharmacist and grocery told us they are closing, where we've done business for 26 years; then, last weekend my minister announced she is retiring. Honestly, I really don't want to deal with changes like this, at least it's 3 and so that should be done with, if you believe my Scottish grandmother.
I just want a calm year, with good health, happiness and employment for all.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
On Speaking in Public
Or, something like that. And, I volunteered!!
Seriously, I've wanted to participate in the Sunday Celebration at Youth Team Conference for YEARS!! I actually thought I'd have to wait until I retire and have time to serve on the regional planning team to be able to do so.
Surprisingly, the call was made Saturday, the celebration is being reconfigured a little and who would like to represent the YOU group? I thought about it over lunch for a few minutes, Diane said I should go for it, but I had that inadequacy quiver in my stomach and the "What on earth would I say?" ricocheting around in my head. So I thought, maybe next time. Then, when the question was asked and my hand went up - even I was surprised.
First, the format is kind of like the table talk segment of Toastmasters - the wonderful Mark, our amazing musician, takes 5 of his songs and places them face down on the floor. Then, someone from the group comes up and picks one up and hands it to Mark, who reads off the title and the speaker who is moved to speak on it gets up and has 3 minutes to deliver their message.
I went first, not necessarily because I wanted to get into "Love My Enemies", I thought it would go well to get it done and not sit and worry, and I knew youngest child was going to speak also and she wanted to go last.
It wasn't too bad, I managed to get the topic in at least once, and also got in the 2 stories I really wanted to share, and only pushed the time a little.
since those folk are my peers in something that is critically important for me, it was a great step, and I really felt OK with it. Sure, I could have done this or that a little better, but it worked and I liked what I said and, for the most part, the way I delivered it.
I wonder what will come next???
Seriously, I've wanted to participate in the Sunday Celebration at Youth Team Conference for YEARS!! I actually thought I'd have to wait until I retire and have time to serve on the regional planning team to be able to do so.
Surprisingly, the call was made Saturday, the celebration is being reconfigured a little and who would like to represent the YOU group? I thought about it over lunch for a few minutes, Diane said I should go for it, but I had that inadequacy quiver in my stomach and the "What on earth would I say?" ricocheting around in my head. So I thought, maybe next time. Then, when the question was asked and my hand went up - even I was surprised.
First, the format is kind of like the table talk segment of Toastmasters - the wonderful Mark, our amazing musician, takes 5 of his songs and places them face down on the floor. Then, someone from the group comes up and picks one up and hands it to Mark, who reads off the title and the speaker who is moved to speak on it gets up and has 3 minutes to deliver their message.
I went first, not necessarily because I wanted to get into "Love My Enemies", I thought it would go well to get it done and not sit and worry, and I knew youngest child was going to speak also and she wanted to go last.
It wasn't too bad, I managed to get the topic in at least once, and also got in the 2 stories I really wanted to share, and only pushed the time a little.
since those folk are my peers in something that is critically important for me, it was a great step, and I really felt OK with it. Sure, I could have done this or that a little better, but it worked and I liked what I said and, for the most part, the way I delivered it.
I wonder what will come next???
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Healing Your Brain
In "Heal Your Brain, Heal Your Body" Dr. Amen shows us scans of brains, healthy, alzheimers, smokers, drinkers, meth users, heroin users, etc. He prescribes what it takes to have a healthy brain, and therefore a healthy body. Eat good food, don't drink, don't smoke, limit coffee to 2 cups each day, exercise - wait, isn't that the same thing we have heard everywhere?
Of course, we all want to have the healthy version, but how many of us are willing to do what it takes to get it and keep it that way?
Personally, I like coffee, and drink, now, about two cups a day. Sometimes I drink more, but I have realized, just this year, that if I over indulge I don't sleep.
Oh, and getting enough sleep, that was another big prescription. I would love to get 8 hours sleep, he says 71/2 is the minimum, I usually mange 6 1/2 to 7. I can personally attest that sleep deprivation is not only aging but truly makes you crazy. There were a few years when I had either a child with night terrors - oh yeah, WEEKS with 2-3 hours of sleep each night, or a husband with apnea who snored and Snored and SNORED. I couldn't make decisions, balance my check book, one day I couldn't remember how to sign my name and then I started to have panic attacks - it was amazing to find out that a week away from home with "regular" sleep changed my whole world view - I actually had one.
What would it look like if we all structured our lives to the healthy brain lifestyle? Not only would we individually be healthier, I think our whole society would be improved. When we are healthy and operating from a place of wholeness we have enhanced reaction time and fully functioning thought processors. Our analytical abilities and our capacity for tolerance are stepped up, critical thinking abilities are fully functional. Our ability to care about the situations of others is free to operate.
Imagine a world full of considerate, thoughtful, insightful, tolerant people interacting with each other.
Of course, we all want to have the healthy version, but how many of us are willing to do what it takes to get it and keep it that way?
Personally, I like coffee, and drink, now, about two cups a day. Sometimes I drink more, but I have realized, just this year, that if I over indulge I don't sleep.
Oh, and getting enough sleep, that was another big prescription. I would love to get 8 hours sleep, he says 71/2 is the minimum, I usually mange 6 1/2 to 7. I can personally attest that sleep deprivation is not only aging but truly makes you crazy. There were a few years when I had either a child with night terrors - oh yeah, WEEKS with 2-3 hours of sleep each night, or a husband with apnea who snored and Snored and SNORED. I couldn't make decisions, balance my check book, one day I couldn't remember how to sign my name and then I started to have panic attacks - it was amazing to find out that a week away from home with "regular" sleep changed my whole world view - I actually had one.
What would it look like if we all structured our lives to the healthy brain lifestyle? Not only would we individually be healthier, I think our whole society would be improved. When we are healthy and operating from a place of wholeness we have enhanced reaction time and fully functioning thought processors. Our analytical abilities and our capacity for tolerance are stepped up, critical thinking abilities are fully functional. Our ability to care about the situations of others is free to operate.
Imagine a world full of considerate, thoughtful, insightful, tolerant people interacting with each other.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Catch-up Time
It's been a long time since I sat down with a few minutes to add to this journal. Many, many things have been happening and it has worn me down somewhat. As therapeutic as it is to write, sometimes it's such an effort.
Last week I was too sick to work 4 of the 5 days, well really all 5, but I went in Monday and even though I felt really bad, I was driving the car pool. I haven't spent that much sick leave on myself in years. Even when I had surgery a couple of years ago I missed only 2 work days.
It was weird to be sick, I don't really know how :-) , it started as a cold over a month ago and seemed to be all gone except for the blasted cough, then came roaring back right into bronchial pneumonia. I just felt too crappy to do the usual things I do and wasn't willing to make the effort to go out to get groceries or anything. Also, antibiotics are a trip, they seem to have all sorts of effects on me besides the killing bad bugs part, and mostly put me to sleep. In any event, it looks as though I'm back to the care-taker role as Himself seems to have fallen to the cold/flu that I started with.
Current situation:
Greatly encouraged by national news and the improving condition of Rep. Gifford.
Dismayed by things taking place at work, going back tomorrow to see if I can help prop up some edges.
Happy that things seem to be going so well for Dad, he seems to be steadily recovering more and more of his "regular" routine. Calling later to see how Mom is doing since she to a fall, over his new treadmill, and didn't break anything, but is pretty bruised. It's been very difficult not being able to go see them again.
Still worried about youngest child, there doesn't seem to be any break in her horizon as far as a job goes, and all this news stuff about mental health upsets her no end.
Oldest child is apparently coping, having regular employment, even low end, is very beneficial and his temp job keeps being extended.
I am looking forward to going away next weekend with fellow youth group leaders, it's always a restorative thing to hang out with my friends and compare notes about working with teens. Mark Stanton Welch's wonderful music is a bonus.
There are a few times I would have posted rants here if I'd been home or able to do so from my phone. I have found it gives me a better perspective on my own foibles to write them out. I'll try to remember them long enough to record them articulately.
Last week I was too sick to work 4 of the 5 days, well really all 5, but I went in Monday and even though I felt really bad, I was driving the car pool. I haven't spent that much sick leave on myself in years. Even when I had surgery a couple of years ago I missed only 2 work days.
It was weird to be sick, I don't really know how :-) , it started as a cold over a month ago and seemed to be all gone except for the blasted cough, then came roaring back right into bronchial pneumonia. I just felt too crappy to do the usual things I do and wasn't willing to make the effort to go out to get groceries or anything. Also, antibiotics are a trip, they seem to have all sorts of effects on me besides the killing bad bugs part, and mostly put me to sleep. In any event, it looks as though I'm back to the care-taker role as Himself seems to have fallen to the cold/flu that I started with.
Current situation:
Greatly encouraged by national news and the improving condition of Rep. Gifford.
Dismayed by things taking place at work, going back tomorrow to see if I can help prop up some edges.
Happy that things seem to be going so well for Dad, he seems to be steadily recovering more and more of his "regular" routine. Calling later to see how Mom is doing since she to a fall, over his new treadmill, and didn't break anything, but is pretty bruised. It's been very difficult not being able to go see them again.
Still worried about youngest child, there doesn't seem to be any break in her horizon as far as a job goes, and all this news stuff about mental health upsets her no end.
Oldest child is apparently coping, having regular employment, even low end, is very beneficial and his temp job keeps being extended.
I am looking forward to going away next weekend with fellow youth group leaders, it's always a restorative thing to hang out with my friends and compare notes about working with teens. Mark Stanton Welch's wonderful music is a bonus.
There are a few times I would have posted rants here if I'd been home or able to do so from my phone. I have found it gives me a better perspective on my own foibles to write them out. I'll try to remember them long enough to record them articulately.
Friday, September 17, 2010
A Rant ~ All dogs go to heaven, and so do suicides
Obviously, another controversial thought has wandered through and I am compelled to write something about it.
This is actually the result of two separate posts today: one about dogs going to heaven and the other about the disposition of the souls of people who kill themselves. More, they were both about the mean things people say to the bereaved.
Having experienced the one, because people say things, often thinking they are helping, but without thought, when you lose a pet. And studiously kept the secret of the other, because people would have said mean things. I want to say a few words.
I remember a few years ago a wonderful email went around the spam circuit showing a series of reader board signs, a debate between a evangelical church on one side of the road an a Catholic church on the other. The first was "All Dogs Go To Heaven" on the Catholic church, and then a rebuttal from the other side of the street, and it went on several panels from there.
Of course I have an opinion about that! If my love objects aren't going to heaven, or Heaven, I'm not interested in whatever it is. Maybe it comes from Reading "The Bridge Across Forever" too young and being impressed with radical thought, but I don't think so. To my way of thinking, if love is involved, the Divine, by whatever name, cannot be exclusionary.
Yes, I am aware of the argument about animals not having souls, but having loved and been loved by a series of wonderful beings clad in fur, I cannot agree. A canine can certainly be a finer friend than many people I know. Felines, well they express their loving natures differently and still, better than some human folks. Don't even start me on the equine set (although I've known a couple who behaved like mean girls, but I blamed their humans). I will let you who have reptile and avian friends form your own opinions, but won't exclude any one else's love objects either. I've lived with a bird (corvidea) and have friends who have snakes, but they really aren't my choice for urban spaces. Still, I asert that they go to Heaven, too.
Now for the other subject. I was reading a post about the mean things people said to the parents of a young man who killed himself, as they were leaving the funeral. Seriously "he's in Hell", "his soul will never rest". WTF?? Some people' beliefs are a little frightening.
Suicide has got to be the most difficult thing I can imagine. Just last fall my neighbor lost a child to what may have been suicide, or an accidental overdose (aren't they by definition accidental?). The pain of that loss was so hard to see. In our minds the loss of any child is wrong in the natural order, but the added stigma of it maybe being a suicide?? Just that someone would rather think of their child as a drug user than having taken their own life is so sad.
Many years ago my then boyfriend died in a car accident with his best friend. It was catastrophic and it was impossible to determine who had been driving, let alone what caused the wreck.
For over 25 years I did not tell anyone that it wasn't an accident, he had left me a note. At the time, I could not have given that note to anyone. His parents were devastated as it was. I knew he was a much wanted younger child with a much older sibling, but didn't know until visiting with them weeks afterward that I was the only girl he had ever brought home. How could I add to the tragedy by letting them know he was so unhappy he wanted to die? By their beliefs he would have been consigned to Hell, they would never see him again, and he would have had to be re-interred outside the family cemetery plot ~ outside the whole cemetery.
At the time I was young and confused about a lot of things, but I knew that it would have been cruel to take what little consolation reuniting in an afterlife could be. I have always believed in something, and it was not well defined then, but now I would say it this way ~ all souls return to God, in whatever framework you see IT. To me, the Deity is all encompassing Love, and we are pieces of that, manifesting it to some degree or another in our everyday lives.
God is, God loves, we are as little or as much of that as we can handle expressing at any given time and our furry friends, and the people who can't see that they are also part of that still get to reunite with the totality when they are done on this plane.
This is actually the result of two separate posts today: one about dogs going to heaven and the other about the disposition of the souls of people who kill themselves. More, they were both about the mean things people say to the bereaved.
Having experienced the one, because people say things, often thinking they are helping, but without thought, when you lose a pet. And studiously kept the secret of the other, because people would have said mean things. I want to say a few words.
I remember a few years ago a wonderful email went around the spam circuit showing a series of reader board signs, a debate between a evangelical church on one side of the road an a Catholic church on the other. The first was "All Dogs Go To Heaven" on the Catholic church, and then a rebuttal from the other side of the street, and it went on several panels from there.
Of course I have an opinion about that! If my love objects aren't going to heaven, or Heaven, I'm not interested in whatever it is. Maybe it comes from Reading "The Bridge Across Forever" too young and being impressed with radical thought, but I don't think so. To my way of thinking, if love is involved, the Divine, by whatever name, cannot be exclusionary.
Yes, I am aware of the argument about animals not having souls, but having loved and been loved by a series of wonderful beings clad in fur, I cannot agree. A canine can certainly be a finer friend than many people I know. Felines, well they express their loving natures differently and still, better than some human folks. Don't even start me on the equine set (although I've known a couple who behaved like mean girls, but I blamed their humans). I will let you who have reptile and avian friends form your own opinions, but won't exclude any one else's love objects either. I've lived with a bird (corvidea) and have friends who have snakes, but they really aren't my choice for urban spaces. Still, I asert that they go to Heaven, too.
Now for the other subject. I was reading a post about the mean things people said to the parents of a young man who killed himself, as they were leaving the funeral. Seriously "he's in Hell", "his soul will never rest". WTF?? Some people' beliefs are a little frightening.
Suicide has got to be the most difficult thing I can imagine. Just last fall my neighbor lost a child to what may have been suicide, or an accidental overdose (aren't they by definition accidental?). The pain of that loss was so hard to see. In our minds the loss of any child is wrong in the natural order, but the added stigma of it maybe being a suicide?? Just that someone would rather think of their child as a drug user than having taken their own life is so sad.
Many years ago my then boyfriend died in a car accident with his best friend. It was catastrophic and it was impossible to determine who had been driving, let alone what caused the wreck.
For over 25 years I did not tell anyone that it wasn't an accident, he had left me a note. At the time, I could not have given that note to anyone. His parents were devastated as it was. I knew he was a much wanted younger child with a much older sibling, but didn't know until visiting with them weeks afterward that I was the only girl he had ever brought home. How could I add to the tragedy by letting them know he was so unhappy he wanted to die? By their beliefs he would have been consigned to Hell, they would never see him again, and he would have had to be re-interred outside the family cemetery plot ~ outside the whole cemetery.
At the time I was young and confused about a lot of things, but I knew that it would have been cruel to take what little consolation reuniting in an afterlife could be. I have always believed in something, and it was not well defined then, but now I would say it this way ~ all souls return to God, in whatever framework you see IT. To me, the Deity is all encompassing Love, and we are pieces of that, manifesting it to some degree or another in our everyday lives.
God is, God loves, we are as little or as much of that as we can handle expressing at any given time and our furry friends, and the people who can't see that they are also part of that still get to reunite with the totality when they are done on this plane.
Friday, September 3, 2010
On authors and categories and confusion
Well, I can't say that I never read romance novels, because that would be a complete lie. I certainly don't consider myself too good to read them, or anything else for that matter. Those of you who know me know that I read almost anything that comes along. And, in need of a book, a formulaic romance is as time killing as anything and requires no real mental effort.
I also read the same book over again, sometimes because I re-bought it in a new cover (Argh - there is a book budget after all!!) and sometimes because it happens to be handy and I DON'T HAVE A BOOK! That is the real crux of things, not having a book can be critical in a lot of situations, like every time there's a waiting room involved.
However, the point of this little diatribe is that I found a perfectly lovely little novel at Third Place Books on the SF/Fantasy cart that had a little magic, a little more lust than necessary, but not gagging, and some quality of story (that means I wanted to finish it, as opposed to not caring).
Soooo, I went looking at Half Price ( I know, but it's close and I was just looking) for some more by the same author, and got an bit of new information. There is (maybe nowhere else) a category called "Paranormal Romance", I mean shelf labels and everything, a whole row! I was stunned.
I did discover that most of them involved vampires which is probably why I've not been in that area before, and the only other volume that they had by the author I was looking for was #3 in another series.
Oh well, it's a long weekend, I may get to Third Place or Village Books.
I also read the same book over again, sometimes because I re-bought it in a new cover (Argh - there is a book budget after all!!) and sometimes because it happens to be handy and I DON'T HAVE A BOOK! That is the real crux of things, not having a book can be critical in a lot of situations, like every time there's a waiting room involved.
However, the point of this little diatribe is that I found a perfectly lovely little novel at Third Place Books on the SF/Fantasy cart that had a little magic, a little more lust than necessary, but not gagging, and some quality of story (that means I wanted to finish it, as opposed to not caring).
Soooo, I went looking at Half Price ( I know, but it's close and I was just looking) for some more by the same author, and got an bit of new information. There is (maybe nowhere else) a category called "Paranormal Romance", I mean shelf labels and everything, a whole row! I was stunned.
I did discover that most of them involved vampires which is probably why I've not been in that area before, and the only other volume that they had by the author I was looking for was #3 in another series.
Oh well, it's a long weekend, I may get to Third Place or Village Books.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Wonder.....
I do believe that people live up to, or down to, what is expected of them, or (as has recently occured to me) what they believe is expected of them.
Communication is so crappy between humans, even those who communicate well go off the rails some times, and it is actually a miracle to me that information is shared as well as it is.
Of course, to me it goes back to that expectations thing. We are so much our socialization, our enculturalization, that even when presented with a radically different format, we can't recognise it as different - our expectations are too set.
Likely you have have heard, in late night paper finishing, article writing, report preparation, the phrase "we see what we expect to see" referring to someone often being unable to edit their own work because they know what it is supposed to say. (Not unlike the occasional typo or the like in this blog).
That is how I have come to see relationships between humans. Not just those ones referred to as "primary", but at some level or another, all of them.
We know that if you take a room full of kids and divide them into groups, then tell them one group is "smart", one is "average" and one is "slow", they will perform to order. Even when particularly assigned to the wrong group.
I have come to understand that people raised in families, whatever label put on the upbringing, expect that everyone else came from similar situations. So, simplistically, if you were raised in a stable, supportive, encouraging household, you expect that everyone else has had that same experience, at least until you are educated otherwise. Conversely, if you are raised in an unstable, abusive, non-supportive or similar household, you expect that situation for everyone else. And, even if educated otherwise, your early training has established habits which persist in your behaviors towards others.
So, that's a long way to get to expectations, but as I see it, if you are raised with expectations of success, you expect success, and if you aren't, you don't. It seems to be a difficult thing to change. I work with that principle with employees, and have seen people so caught in their history that compliments are seen as criticism, and affirmations of ability are seen as a setup. I have also seen the other side, people who are so accustomed to always being praised or complimented, but if they are corrected or criticised at all, it is taken as a devastating slam.
Communication is so crappy between humans, even those who communicate well go off the rails some times, and it is actually a miracle to me that information is shared as well as it is.
Of course, to me it goes back to that expectations thing. We are so much our socialization, our enculturalization, that even when presented with a radically different format, we can't recognise it as different - our expectations are too set.
Likely you have have heard, in late night paper finishing, article writing, report preparation, the phrase "we see what we expect to see" referring to someone often being unable to edit their own work because they know what it is supposed to say. (Not unlike the occasional typo or the like in this blog).
That is how I have come to see relationships between humans. Not just those ones referred to as "primary", but at some level or another, all of them.
We know that if you take a room full of kids and divide them into groups, then tell them one group is "smart", one is "average" and one is "slow", they will perform to order. Even when particularly assigned to the wrong group.
I have come to understand that people raised in families, whatever label put on the upbringing, expect that everyone else came from similar situations. So, simplistically, if you were raised in a stable, supportive, encouraging household, you expect that everyone else has had that same experience, at least until you are educated otherwise. Conversely, if you are raised in an unstable, abusive, non-supportive or similar household, you expect that situation for everyone else. And, even if educated otherwise, your early training has established habits which persist in your behaviors towards others.
So, that's a long way to get to expectations, but as I see it, if you are raised with expectations of success, you expect success, and if you aren't, you don't. It seems to be a difficult thing to change. I work with that principle with employees, and have seen people so caught in their history that compliments are seen as criticism, and affirmations of ability are seen as a setup. I have also seen the other side, people who are so accustomed to always being praised or complimented, but if they are corrected or criticised at all, it is taken as a devastating slam.
Monday, August 16, 2010
What do I want to be when I grow up??
I was just poking along, you know, totally overwhelmed by my life and obligations as usual, and posting positive, inspirational thoughts on my FB status. Then, my friend Jan posts "so, when are you going to ministerial school"?
She and I were in classes together several years ago, working our way through the steps of course work to qualify to apply to the Unity Ministerial School. And, she did. I didn't, because I had small people in my life and other obligations, etc., as usual.
But, she wasn't accepted. So, the next thing we are talking about is what that means, and probably there is another path that's a better alternative, and she goes and finds The New Seminary on line. And signs up!
She started as a correspondence student, after going to NY and interviewing, but sometime between September and January she experienced a big shift, and boom, she packed up or sold everything and moved to New York to become a "totally immersed seminarian". Now, if you look up their web site, she is one of the folks in their graduation pictures.
She is an incredibly talented musician, and composer and teacher - I forgot to mention that she was my voice coach for a while - and has made a place for herself in Connecticut.
She is doing what we dreamed of so many years ago.
Which caused me to reflect on a conversation I had with my sister-in-law's sister at a large family gathering, talking about being afraid to speak in public. I was relaying the story of another friend, Racquel, who taught Sunday school with me when our children were little. We were so afraid to speak in public that we would hold hands and shake in front of our own congregation doing announcements. We decided that we could not go on that way and took steps to get past it.
She and her husband also took Unity ministerial classes together with Jan and I.
She and her husband also applied to Unity School, and were accepted, but at the last minute decided not to go. However, she continued with her studies through a field program and is now a Unity minister and has started her second church.
In thinking about it I find I still want to be a full practicing minister. It is all well and good to be able to marry people, but I also want to have a center with study groups, discussion sessions, worship services and musical celebrations.
Oh my God, what does that mean? As usual, I get myself tangled in the steps - how to proceed.
What about all the things I have to get done in my current everyday world?
Fixing the house or letting it go? Finding the funding to do the fixing. Spending the weeks to clean it up either way, and getting Himself to agree to each individual step, up to and including having people in and around our house creating chaos and such. It even looks chaotic written down.
Talking the classes, committing to a course that will take at least two years to complete, but does not involve living in Kansas City at all.
Getting credentials that are recognised by most churches.
Finding a place, or having a home that has a place to start out. Holding courses, speaking where they'll have me, building a foundation.
She and I were in classes together several years ago, working our way through the steps of course work to qualify to apply to the Unity Ministerial School. And, she did. I didn't, because I had small people in my life and other obligations, etc., as usual.
But, she wasn't accepted. So, the next thing we are talking about is what that means, and probably there is another path that's a better alternative, and she goes and finds The New Seminary on line. And signs up!
She started as a correspondence student, after going to NY and interviewing, but sometime between September and January she experienced a big shift, and boom, she packed up or sold everything and moved to New York to become a "totally immersed seminarian". Now, if you look up their web site, she is one of the folks in their graduation pictures.
She is an incredibly talented musician, and composer and teacher - I forgot to mention that she was my voice coach for a while - and has made a place for herself in Connecticut.
She is doing what we dreamed of so many years ago.
Which caused me to reflect on a conversation I had with my sister-in-law's sister at a large family gathering, talking about being afraid to speak in public. I was relaying the story of another friend, Racquel, who taught Sunday school with me when our children were little. We were so afraid to speak in public that we would hold hands and shake in front of our own congregation doing announcements. We decided that we could not go on that way and took steps to get past it.
She and her husband also took Unity ministerial classes together with Jan and I.
She and her husband also applied to Unity School, and were accepted, but at the last minute decided not to go. However, she continued with her studies through a field program and is now a Unity minister and has started her second church.
In thinking about it I find I still want to be a full practicing minister. It is all well and good to be able to marry people, but I also want to have a center with study groups, discussion sessions, worship services and musical celebrations.
Oh my God, what does that mean? As usual, I get myself tangled in the steps - how to proceed.
What about all the things I have to get done in my current everyday world?
Fixing the house or letting it go? Finding the funding to do the fixing. Spending the weeks to clean it up either way, and getting Himself to agree to each individual step, up to and including having people in and around our house creating chaos and such. It even looks chaotic written down.
Talking the classes, committing to a course that will take at least two years to complete, but does not involve living in Kansas City at all.
Getting credentials that are recognised by most churches.
Finding a place, or having a home that has a place to start out. Holding courses, speaking where they'll have me, building a foundation.
I am toying with the idea as a five year plan. Starting now.....?
Monday, August 9, 2010
Heterosexuality and the Sanctity of Marrage
"—it's clear that straight people see heterosexual monogamy as highly dispensable. Straight people long ago gave up on "one of the great ideas of Western civilization," a.k.a. "one man, one woman, for life." And there are no signs that straight people want to return to the bad old days of impossible-to-dissolve marriages that frequently owed their longevity to the economic and legal enslavement of women. " Dan Savage reviewing Ross Douthat
I am often amazed at the surprise some people express when they find out how long Himself and I've been married. Really??, I thought that was the point. What about Mom and Dad and their 60+ years, that's amazing, but really only because they are both still here. They had every intention of staying the course, so they did.
It's work, it's about intention
But gay people don't understand and are going to screw it up? PHFFFT!!
Commitment is commitment.
Lot's of gay people I know are many, many years partnered, just as many as my straight acquaintances. And there are several in both camps who are single, willingly or not. I also have some hetero friends who are partnered but not married, for a variety of reasons.
I also know several people who are into what appears to be disposable relationships. They never commit, or over commit, or just plain aren't willing to stick when things get difficult. I don't hang out with them much.
Once upon a time a "friend" counseled me to move on from my husband because of his serious illness. They saw the relationship as not worth pursuing because there was too much work and it would cost too much. At the time he was not expected to live more than a couple of years, and was incredibly difficult to live with (he was really sick??), but I never considered leaving him as an option. That was over 25 years ago, and he's still here, the "friend" is long gone.
I was pretty mystified that my friend could think that was an appropriate approach, but that was before I met a couple who split because he wanted to date someone else (surprisingly, now I recognise a kind of chivalry that at least he waited until he told his wife and moved out) and another couple who split after she had been involved in several affairs -they evidently had different conceptions of the boundaries of their marriage.
We never had the traditional words at our marriage ceremony, the "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part", but I never thought that it wasn't implicit. Our intention has always been to stay together.
All that said, I have never felt threatened by same sex couples, and I really don't see how one could be. It's not like I'm worried some guy is going to steal my husband. They aren't his type, and I've seen what happens when women play up to him - he's a terrible flirt, but for the most part he's so oblivious he doesn't notice until it's pointed out.
Not threatened here.
I am often amazed at the surprise some people express when they find out how long Himself and I've been married. Really??, I thought that was the point. What about Mom and Dad and their 60+ years, that's amazing, but really only because they are both still here. They had every intention of staying the course, so they did.
It's work, it's about intention
But gay people don't understand and are going to screw it up? PHFFFT!!
Commitment is commitment.
Lot's of gay people I know are many, many years partnered, just as many as my straight acquaintances. And there are several in both camps who are single, willingly or not. I also have some hetero friends who are partnered but not married, for a variety of reasons.
I also know several people who are into what appears to be disposable relationships. They never commit, or over commit, or just plain aren't willing to stick when things get difficult. I don't hang out with them much.
Once upon a time a "friend" counseled me to move on from my husband because of his serious illness. They saw the relationship as not worth pursuing because there was too much work and it would cost too much. At the time he was not expected to live more than a couple of years, and was incredibly difficult to live with (he was really sick??), but I never considered leaving him as an option. That was over 25 years ago, and he's still here, the "friend" is long gone.
I was pretty mystified that my friend could think that was an appropriate approach, but that was before I met a couple who split because he wanted to date someone else (surprisingly, now I recognise a kind of chivalry that at least he waited until he told his wife and moved out) and another couple who split after she had been involved in several affairs -they evidently had different conceptions of the boundaries of their marriage.
We never had the traditional words at our marriage ceremony, the "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part", but I never thought that it wasn't implicit. Our intention has always been to stay together.
All that said, I have never felt threatened by same sex couples, and I really don't see how one could be. It's not like I'm worried some guy is going to steal my husband. They aren't his type, and I've seen what happens when women play up to him - he's a terrible flirt, but for the most part he's so oblivious he doesn't notice until it's pointed out.
Not threatened here.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Some Summer Fish and Chips Reviews
I think that, sometimes, fish and chips can be the perfect food. but, in order to justify the calories from being fried, it has to be above average. While we were on vacation I took notes, since the first thing my husband wants when we go to the ocean is F&C and I thought it might be interesting to compare what we discovered.
We started with a place recommended by the receptionist at the condo - Alec's by the Sea in Ocean Shores. That was a really good tip, not only was the fish part fresh halibut that had been filleted and breaded right before it was cooked, the fries were fresh made and really good. The fish breading was a very light, crisp tempura - we actually went back before leaving town to get more.
One day Himself really wanted to go somewhere special (??!!??) so we went to the restaurant at the Shilo Inn. there was really nothing I can say about the food, except for the salsa fresca, obviously made there, was delightful, the accompanying tortilla chips were simply awful, my fish taco was a disaster of fried chunks of tough, previously (and long time) frozen cod and a chipotle aioli was much like Miracle Whip with powdered chili added. Himself said his was the best clam chowder that he'd had in a long time, and he really needs to get out more, 'cause I thought it was a lot like bland paste. However, the hot, multi grain bread with it was yummy.
We also tried Mike's Seafood Co., which is a fish market with a restaurant in back. Their F&C was halibut with a light, crispy coating, and they had really good fries. I would go back there again.
So, just to validate the search and ground ourselves back at home, we went back to our favorite local place yesterday. I think the best local F&C are found at Tin Fish in Mukilteo. (Fortunately, they are only 10 minutes away.)They have such an extensive menu there is really something for everyone, but the F&C remains our dish of choice. Like everywhere, we share, and we also share an order of their chips and salsa. The chips are homemade and different enough to be special, and we always order extra salsa. The fish is coated with something like a crumb coating, light and crunchy. the fries are home made and taste like - - gasp - - potatoes!!
We may have to go somewhere else soon to try again.
We started with a place recommended by the receptionist at the condo - Alec's by the Sea in Ocean Shores. That was a really good tip, not only was the fish part fresh halibut that had been filleted and breaded right before it was cooked, the fries were fresh made and really good. The fish breading was a very light, crisp tempura - we actually went back before leaving town to get more.
One day Himself really wanted to go somewhere special (??!!??) so we went to the restaurant at the Shilo Inn. there was really nothing I can say about the food, except for the salsa fresca, obviously made there, was delightful, the accompanying tortilla chips were simply awful, my fish taco was a disaster of fried chunks of tough, previously (and long time) frozen cod and a chipotle aioli was much like Miracle Whip with powdered chili added. Himself said his was the best clam chowder that he'd had in a long time, and he really needs to get out more, 'cause I thought it was a lot like bland paste. However, the hot, multi grain bread with it was yummy.
We also tried Mike's Seafood Co., which is a fish market with a restaurant in back. Their F&C was halibut with a light, crispy coating, and they had really good fries. I would go back there again.
So, just to validate the search and ground ourselves back at home, we went back to our favorite local place yesterday. I think the best local F&C are found at Tin Fish in Mukilteo. (Fortunately, they are only 10 minutes away.)They have such an extensive menu there is really something for everyone, but the F&C remains our dish of choice. Like everywhere, we share, and we also share an order of their chips and salsa. The chips are homemade and different enough to be special, and we always order extra salsa. The fish is coated with something like a crumb coating, light and crunchy. the fries are home made and taste like - - gasp - - potatoes!!
We may have to go somewhere else soon to try again.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Summer Blues
It has been a long time since I had time to sit down and write something. Life has been very complicated this year, not that that is unusual in our house, but it has had some different aspects. Primarily, this year it has been my Dad's health that has been the biggest issue, not Himself's, which is a major change.
It started in February or March, and Dad finally had aortic valve replacement June 17th. then there was the very difficult first few days, where his reactions to the medications,surgery and heart/lung machine produced some effects and behaviors that scared him and a couple of family members.
If you ever know someone who goes through heart surgery, or any other that requires a hear/lung machine, be prepared for something called ICU dementia, (or "pump head", depending on the hospital you are in.) Every patient experiences it differently, but you can imagine how that impact, combined with all of the sedatives and other very powerful drugs, can cause some one's mind to be a little off track.
It would have been much easier if my brother hadn't freaked out, since Dad was upset by it already and thought he was losing his mind, and I had to remind everyone (including the nurses) to reassure him that it was temporary.
Reminding me, talk with the nurses a lot. I was dumbfounded to find out that they had Dad noted for difficulty swallowing, which means they really bring awful food and those Glucerna drinks, and the whole problem wasn't that he couldn't swallow, he just wasn't interested in eating anything that came on the tray. Once we figured it out and mom started bringing home canned fruit, sandwiches on their favorite bread and her special cookies, things started to turn around. Not that it's all great yet, those drugs make everything taste weird, and even the old favorites may not be appealing.
Another issue to talk with the nurses about, the Physical Therapist noted that Dad had right side weakness because he couldn't get up when he was working with him. What Dad and I both tried to tell him was the aggressive movement he was using trying to swing Dad out of bed had produced vertigo and that was why Dad couldn't follow through. That guy was really obtuse and I would have told him not to come back, but sometimes Dad is even more stubborn than I.
After spending much less time than we had anticipated in a pretty serious rehab facility Dad went home on July 17th, and is slowly improving. Yesterday he took himself out to the pickle ball court and just walked around there for some exercise. And, a PT person was supposed to visit him today, but I haven't heard what happened with that.
Actually, some of the summer hasn't been blue, but when my car blew up on Monday it kind of leveled the really great weekend I had just had at camp with my youth group. Check my FB for pictures from the event, there aren't enough superlatives for how much I enjoyed the people and activities that I experienced at camp. And, the whole car thing could have been so much worse, but that will be another blog.
It started in February or March, and Dad finally had aortic valve replacement June 17th. then there was the very difficult first few days, where his reactions to the medications,surgery and heart/lung machine produced some effects and behaviors that scared him and a couple of family members.
If you ever know someone who goes through heart surgery, or any other that requires a hear/lung machine, be prepared for something called ICU dementia, (or "pump head", depending on the hospital you are in.) Every patient experiences it differently, but you can imagine how that impact, combined with all of the sedatives and other very powerful drugs, can cause some one's mind to be a little off track.
It would have been much easier if my brother hadn't freaked out, since Dad was upset by it already and thought he was losing his mind, and I had to remind everyone (including the nurses) to reassure him that it was temporary.
Reminding me, talk with the nurses a lot. I was dumbfounded to find out that they had Dad noted for difficulty swallowing, which means they really bring awful food and those Glucerna drinks, and the whole problem wasn't that he couldn't swallow, he just wasn't interested in eating anything that came on the tray. Once we figured it out and mom started bringing home canned fruit, sandwiches on their favorite bread and her special cookies, things started to turn around. Not that it's all great yet, those drugs make everything taste weird, and even the old favorites may not be appealing.
Another issue to talk with the nurses about, the Physical Therapist noted that Dad had right side weakness because he couldn't get up when he was working with him. What Dad and I both tried to tell him was the aggressive movement he was using trying to swing Dad out of bed had produced vertigo and that was why Dad couldn't follow through. That guy was really obtuse and I would have told him not to come back, but sometimes Dad is even more stubborn than I.
After spending much less time than we had anticipated in a pretty serious rehab facility Dad went home on July 17th, and is slowly improving. Yesterday he took himself out to the pickle ball court and just walked around there for some exercise. And, a PT person was supposed to visit him today, but I haven't heard what happened with that.
Actually, some of the summer hasn't been blue, but when my car blew up on Monday it kind of leveled the really great weekend I had just had at camp with my youth group. Check my FB for pictures from the event, there aren't enough superlatives for how much I enjoyed the people and activities that I experienced at camp. And, the whole car thing could have been so much worse, but that will be another blog.
Friday, May 28, 2010
The Retributive Workplace, or WHY do I still work here?
So, I had this very interesting conversation with my big boss. I (of course) questioned some inappropriate behavior on the part of some middle management folks. What I consider the using a hammer rather than a flyswatter approach, and got his rather specious explanation.
It seems, since we in gubbmint are under so much scrutiny, what with all the public disclosure requests and such, we are going to see more "definitive" approaches to direction. Rather than get a warning or a discussion about what is needed, there will be more written reprimands and performance improvement plans issued.
I, of course, find this approach not only antithetical to all of our supervisory trainings, but unprofessional and unethical. If we are going to go ballistic for minor things, where is there room for progression if major problems occur? Where is the respect and assumption of professionalism? We are working in an atmosphere of nerves and suspicion. An increasingly hostile and retributive environment that batters staff morale and grievously affects production.
I have been attempting to counter this pervasive mentality with an affirmative outlook, but I find myself increasingly feeling depressed and helpless.
Is this everywhere? Is this the new professional workplace?
It seems, since we in gubbmint are under so much scrutiny, what with all the public disclosure requests and such, we are going to see more "definitive" approaches to direction. Rather than get a warning or a discussion about what is needed, there will be more written reprimands and performance improvement plans issued.
Evidently we are so afraid of what happens when a few really bad managers/directors make the news we are going to over react so that we can document that our butts are covered. We can't seem to get rid of a management team that is openly passing dirty pictures around on office email until they are outed for such egregious behaviour in public that the local papers bring it up in every article, related or not, but we can now punish people for minor infractions so it looks like we really took care of business.
I, of course, find this approach not only antithetical to all of our supervisory trainings, but unprofessional and unethical. If we are going to go ballistic for minor things, where is there room for progression if major problems occur? Where is the respect and assumption of professionalism? We are working in an atmosphere of nerves and suspicion. An increasingly hostile and retributive environment that batters staff morale and grievously affects production.
I have been attempting to counter this pervasive mentality with an affirmative outlook, but I find myself increasingly feeling depressed and helpless.
Is this everywhere? Is this the new professional workplace?
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Sometimes When We Touch
This was oridinally written on June 7, and for some reason dropped ito my draft box and not recovered and final edited until 7/29. But, it says it was written on May 13 - I don't get that at all. So, here it is....
"You ask me if I love you, and I choke on my reply.
I'd rather hurt you honestly than mislead you with a lie.
But who am I to judge you and what you say or do,
I'm only just beginning, to see the real you."
[Dan Hill]
Yesterday was our anniversary and this is the first line of "our song" from when we started dating in 1976. Our first date was for coffee at Tony's in Fairhaven. We had known each other for well over a year, and were least likely to get together, all of our friends told us that, and kept pairing us up anyway. We were the only single people invited to so many dinners and such, and then the primary instigator was soooo mad at me for years after we made it official. Funny how that works.
It has not been an effortless run, there have been enough challenges that I have often asked God for a "little talk", and several times have wondered if I seriously harmed someone in a past life .
I never trained to be a nurse, but I sure have a lot of OJT
But, you don't get to choose what you get. Like having children, being married is an ongoing evolve-ment of coping and accommodating. occasionally it needs a moderator, or translator, and we have done that, and will probably do so again.
Commitment is a funny thing, if we knew how things were going to turn out we probably wouldn't get into this in the first place.
"You ask me if I love you, and I choke on my reply.
I'd rather hurt you honestly than mislead you with a lie.
But who am I to judge you and what you say or do,
I'm only just beginning, to see the real you."
[Dan Hill]
Yesterday was our anniversary and this is the first line of "our song" from when we started dating in 1976. Our first date was for coffee at Tony's in Fairhaven. We had known each other for well over a year, and were least likely to get together, all of our friends told us that, and kept pairing us up anyway. We were the only single people invited to so many dinners and such, and then the primary instigator was soooo mad at me for years after we made it official. Funny how that works.
It has not been an effortless run, there have been enough challenges that I have often asked God for a "little talk", and several times have wondered if I seriously harmed someone in a past life .
I never trained to be a nurse, but I sure have a lot of OJT
But, you don't get to choose what you get. Like having children, being married is an ongoing evolve-ment of coping and accommodating. occasionally it needs a moderator, or translator, and we have done that, and will probably do so again.
Commitment is a funny thing, if we knew how things were going to turn out we probably wouldn't get into this in the first place.
Monday, May 10, 2010
On Mother's Day
I had a really great Mother's Day, as those things go, I got to spend most of the day with people I love, doing things I enjoy. pretty super actually.
I went to church in the a.m., and was pretty frustrated at the antics of the kids, but overall a good morning and then a brief chance to connect with adult friends and exchange Mother's Day greetings.
I was home to eat lunch and pack up himself and some contributions for dinner, and we were off. We picked up our son and then continued to the closest Haggens so the guys could get an extra lunch for himself and brunch for son. And I could get a card for my mother since I had neglected to do so earlier. (I know, but it's now an ingrained habit).
On arriving at the parental residence we found them in the back yard, Papa having decided to try a walk and it was so nice he just sat out there for an hour or more. We visited for while and Papa said he'd like some pruning done, so Himself and Son grabbed loppers and set to work. this is not an unusual pastime for Himself, he likes to fuss with landscaping and such when he feels well, but I think it was a first for Son, I know it was a first for him to use a pitch fork.
And I got a BIG first - Papa let me drive the tractor!! I can drive, of course, but hadn't been offered the controls of the special toy before. What fund, I had to get a crash course in shifting and the hydraulics, and I was off ~ at about 2 mph, but....
In any event, the guys cut and then loaded the brush into the bucket on the tractor and I drove it back to unload. Twice!!
All that and sunshine :-) (and the Mariners won, helping Papa's outlook).
Oh, and I was still wearing a skirt and flip-flops, so tempting fate also, but didn't rip anything or grab any stinging nettles, or any of the other feats I often manage when confronted with wild
fauna and such,
Son and I filled the bird and squirrel feeders, and all the time we were outside there was a family of red squirrels eating and chirping at each other and us. The red squirrels are the preferred attendees at the feeders, the grey squirrels are the "bad guys" that the parents try to discourage.
We had a nice summer type of salad supper with a lot of good stories. Capped by carrot cake. Mom's favorite.
There was lots of discussion about the upcoming Tuesday trip to the UW for a cardiac consult regarding the possibility of Papa getting a new procedure for heart valve replacement, and the Thursday visit to the local cardiologist. Papa seems pretty much resigned to the possibility of open heart surgery if the UW review doesn't pan out.
Then - reality Monday - - the trip to the UW is off. It seems that the GH referral was flawed, the named cardiologist was wrong, the one who was scheduled isn't approved by the insurance carrier, or some such, and the capper, the appointment, although arranged by my sister, and confirmed by Papa himself, was done in the wrong name, which further flummoxed GH. OF COURSE, it was just his first and last names reversed, but that is evidently insurmountable, and the wrong Dr. part is completely unimaginable in the GH world.
Poor Mom, she spent the whole day on the phone trying to straighten the mess out and it appears that there is a layer of depression sinking in up there.
Time to pray for the Highest and Best outcomes and let it go? Probably, but that will likely work better for me than for them.
I went to church in the a.m., and was pretty frustrated at the antics of the kids, but overall a good morning and then a brief chance to connect with adult friends and exchange Mother's Day greetings.
I was home to eat lunch and pack up himself and some contributions for dinner, and we were off. We picked up our son and then continued to the closest Haggens so the guys could get an extra lunch for himself and brunch for son. And I could get a card for my mother since I had neglected to do so earlier. (I know, but it's now an ingrained habit).
On arriving at the parental residence we found them in the back yard, Papa having decided to try a walk and it was so nice he just sat out there for an hour or more. We visited for while and Papa said he'd like some pruning done, so Himself and Son grabbed loppers and set to work. this is not an unusual pastime for Himself, he likes to fuss with landscaping and such when he feels well, but I think it was a first for Son, I know it was a first for him to use a pitch fork.
And I got a BIG first - Papa let me drive the tractor!! I can drive, of course, but hadn't been offered the controls of the special toy before. What fund, I had to get a crash course in shifting and the hydraulics, and I was off ~ at about 2 mph, but....
In any event, the guys cut and then loaded the brush into the bucket on the tractor and I drove it back to unload. Twice!!
All that and sunshine :-) (and the Mariners won, helping Papa's outlook).
Oh, and I was still wearing a skirt and flip-flops, so tempting fate also, but didn't rip anything or grab any stinging nettles, or any of the other feats I often manage when confronted with wild
fauna and such,
Son and I filled the bird and squirrel feeders, and all the time we were outside there was a family of red squirrels eating and chirping at each other and us. The red squirrels are the preferred attendees at the feeders, the grey squirrels are the "bad guys" that the parents try to discourage.
We had a nice summer type of salad supper with a lot of good stories. Capped by carrot cake. Mom's favorite.
There was lots of discussion about the upcoming Tuesday trip to the UW for a cardiac consult regarding the possibility of Papa getting a new procedure for heart valve replacement, and the Thursday visit to the local cardiologist. Papa seems pretty much resigned to the possibility of open heart surgery if the UW review doesn't pan out.
Then - reality Monday - - the trip to the UW is off. It seems that the GH referral was flawed, the named cardiologist was wrong, the one who was scheduled isn't approved by the insurance carrier, or some such, and the capper, the appointment, although arranged by my sister, and confirmed by Papa himself, was done in the wrong name, which further flummoxed GH. OF COURSE, it was just his first and last names reversed, but that is evidently insurmountable, and the wrong Dr. part is completely unimaginable in the GH world.
Poor Mom, she spent the whole day on the phone trying to straighten the mess out and it appears that there is a layer of depression sinking in up there.
Time to pray for the Highest and Best outcomes and let it go? Probably, but that will likely work better for me than for them.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Yes, as a matter of fact, it IS my road!!
OK, so it's a "public highway", but at least you could use it correctly. Here are a few hints on how you could at least make my drive better, and right now, I don't particularly care about your point of view.
If you are changing lanes, please use the new fangled things called turn signals before you move over. If your car dates before 1950 you are excused, it's too late for me to talk about arm signals tonight.
If all the other cars on the road have their lights on, turn on yours, otherwise (especially on really rainy days like today) you disappear.
And, if driving in rain makes you nervous, consider: 1) not driving, or 2) moving to somewhere dry. It rains here about 300 days a year, sometimes very hard, it's not a surprise.
Wet pavement produces a lot of spray, if you are traveling too close on dry days it's dangerous ('cause, really, you can't stop) but on wet days, you also can't see. So, with double the dry day's emphasis - BACK the Hell OFF!!!
Flashing lights behind you mean move RIGHT, onto the shoulder if necessary, and slow down to a stop until the emergency vehicle passes - always. If it stays behind you while you pull over, stop, it's likely for you. (Note the buttons on the WSP uniform next time).
Did you know that it is illegal in Washington to drive in the left lane unless you are passing someone? Entering the freeway and immediately crossing over 3 lanes to plant your car at the speed limit in the fast lane is also stupid. All of the people who want to go faster will then do very stupid things to get around you. And, when your self righteous need to control other people's speed causes an accident, you might not be physically involved, but you certainly share moral responsibility. And, why do you care anyway, let the speeders go their way, and pay their fines when they get caught.
And, if you have a deep seated need to go 5 mph below the speed limit, do it in the right lane, period.
Remember the saying - lead follow, or get out of the way? I guess, in brief, just get off my road.
If you are changing lanes, please use the new fangled things called turn signals before you move over. If your car dates before 1950 you are excused, it's too late for me to talk about arm signals tonight.
If all the other cars on the road have their lights on, turn on yours, otherwise (especially on really rainy days like today) you disappear.
And, if driving in rain makes you nervous, consider: 1) not driving, or 2) moving to somewhere dry. It rains here about 300 days a year, sometimes very hard, it's not a surprise.
Wet pavement produces a lot of spray, if you are traveling too close on dry days it's dangerous ('cause, really, you can't stop) but on wet days, you also can't see. So, with double the dry day's emphasis - BACK the Hell OFF!!!
Flashing lights behind you mean move RIGHT, onto the shoulder if necessary, and slow down to a stop until the emergency vehicle passes - always. If it stays behind you while you pull over, stop, it's likely for you. (Note the buttons on the WSP uniform next time).
Did you know that it is illegal in Washington to drive in the left lane unless you are passing someone? Entering the freeway and immediately crossing over 3 lanes to plant your car at the speed limit in the fast lane is also stupid. All of the people who want to go faster will then do very stupid things to get around you. And, when your self righteous need to control other people's speed causes an accident, you might not be physically involved, but you certainly share moral responsibility. And, why do you care anyway, let the speeders go their way, and pay their fines when they get caught.
And, if you have a deep seated need to go 5 mph below the speed limit, do it in the right lane, period.
Remember the saying - lead follow, or get out of the way? I guess, in brief, just get off my road.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
On Guns and Old Guys and such
So today was the first time, since I left OK and TX, that there was a guy in my local grocery with a pistol on his hip.
I was really trying to figure out my reaction, when I came across him telling one of the staff why he was wearing a gun in the store. It was worth a linger over realtive merits of bagged chips. And it seems, his purpose is to reassure young women like her, and the elderly and frail, that they don't have to be worried about those "gangbangers and such" who want to shoot people . Guys like him will deter violence.
Then I realized what I was feeling - anxiety, and incredulity, mixed with a little downright hillarity.
Excuse me, Mr. ,you aren't a cop! Maybe you shoot at the range with your buddies once in a while, but you are not a trained specialist in public safety, and are well over the age when yuor reaction time starts to run rapidly away as your birthdays accumulate.
I know, because I'm younger than you and am well aware of the fact that things don't work like they used to, that's why most cops retire before they get to "late middle age".
You are the most dangerous thing on the street to me. Those gangbangers, thugs and miscreants are out there to be sure, and some of them are pretty frightening. But you, Mr. Lone Ranger wannabe, are really scary. The fate of innocent bystanders lies in a calm, steady, trained mind and temperment, and I would bet you aren't it.
Do you know that your "taking out the bad guy" endangers everyone near you? Not only escalating a situation that might not need guns, but those inacurate shots go somewhere, and you have no idea who might be there because you are so sure of your own skill - not only in truely identifying a real bad guy, but taking him out. What about the people behind him? What if it's just somebody's honor student in a hoodie and gangsta pants dragging past his knees who happens to cross your path and looks hinky to you - shoot first?
That's why cops are taught a lot of de-escalation techniques, using words instead of weapons.
If we are lucky the worst thing that will happen is, if you do run across some really bad guy, your own gun is used on you, not some family who happened to cross the street at the wrong time.
I was really trying to figure out my reaction, when I came across him telling one of the staff why he was wearing a gun in the store. It was worth a linger over realtive merits of bagged chips. And it seems, his purpose is to reassure young women like her, and the elderly and frail, that they don't have to be worried about those "gangbangers and such" who want to shoot people . Guys like him will deter violence.
Then I realized what I was feeling - anxiety, and incredulity, mixed with a little downright hillarity.
Excuse me, Mr. ,you aren't a cop! Maybe you shoot at the range with your buddies once in a while, but you are not a trained specialist in public safety, and are well over the age when yuor reaction time starts to run rapidly away as your birthdays accumulate.
I know, because I'm younger than you and am well aware of the fact that things don't work like they used to, that's why most cops retire before they get to "late middle age".
You are the most dangerous thing on the street to me. Those gangbangers, thugs and miscreants are out there to be sure, and some of them are pretty frightening. But you, Mr. Lone Ranger wannabe, are really scary. The fate of innocent bystanders lies in a calm, steady, trained mind and temperment, and I would bet you aren't it.
Do you know that your "taking out the bad guy" endangers everyone near you? Not only escalating a situation that might not need guns, but those inacurate shots go somewhere, and you have no idea who might be there because you are so sure of your own skill - not only in truely identifying a real bad guy, but taking him out. What about the people behind him? What if it's just somebody's honor student in a hoodie and gangsta pants dragging past his knees who happens to cross your path and looks hinky to you - shoot first?
That's why cops are taught a lot of de-escalation techniques, using words instead of weapons.
If we are lucky the worst thing that will happen is, if you do run across some really bad guy, your own gun is used on you, not some family who happened to cross the street at the wrong time.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
On writing
So, Fran held a contest, posed a question and asked for submittals. Of course, the prize is a book, and those who know me are well aware of my book issues. So, I went for it.
It was a pretty interesting prompt, and the response came to me almost immediately, but in my usual fashion, I wrote it as a word document and "hid" it on my desk top so that I could reconsider submittal. I kept going back to it and refining a little bit. In truth I didn't change much at all, just smoothed in into a short, short story. But I was still conflicted, I don't usually let people read my writing, I have never actually completed anything for years.
But, when she posted that time was running out, I bit the bullet and sent it before I changed my mind. And, she liked it, and I won a book. There were 4 winners, out of 8 submittals, I read them and they were really good, so I am flattered to be in that company.
That in itself is really cool, but something that really meant a lot to me was when I let Himself read it (that was very scary) he liked it too, in fact, he said that he wanted to know what was on the next page.
SO, maybe I'll have to take it the next step and see where it goes - if it wants to go anywhere at all.
It was a pretty interesting prompt, and the response came to me almost immediately, but in my usual fashion, I wrote it as a word document and "hid" it on my desk top so that I could reconsider submittal. I kept going back to it and refining a little bit. In truth I didn't change much at all, just smoothed in into a short, short story. But I was still conflicted, I don't usually let people read my writing, I have never actually completed anything for years.
But, when she posted that time was running out, I bit the bullet and sent it before I changed my mind. And, she liked it, and I won a book. There were 4 winners, out of 8 submittals, I read them and they were really good, so I am flattered to be in that company.
That in itself is really cool, but something that really meant a lot to me was when I let Himself read it (that was very scary) he liked it too, in fact, he said that he wanted to know what was on the next page.
SO, maybe I'll have to take it the next step and see where it goes - if it wants to go anywhere at all.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Wishing to be more tech savvy....
So, while I catch up with at least 4 days of online information; mail, Facebook, blogs and such, I am listening to a wonderful CD that I recieved as a birthday gift. It is Ladysmith Black Mambazo, and they have a wide variety of folks performing with them, including Mellissa Ethridge, Sarah McLachlan, Natalie Merchant amd several more. It is inspiring, as always, to hear the wonderful sound that just voices can make.
I have also come across a couple of really inspirational videos, which I'll see if I am savvy enough to link in this space, I managed on FB.I hope this works, it's hard for me to tell because I don't get the clip image as a guide on this page. I'll have to ask someone who is more adept for assistance.
Anyway, this first one brought me to tears, this is truely the power of gratitude. What a blessing this young man is, and talking his story to kids is so affirming.
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1199174473976&ref=mf
This one made me smile. I am a fan of inclusion, knowing that we are all Children of a loving God (Goddess/ Spirit/Power, or whatever rocks with you). This is truely the power of Love, and the manifestation of faith.
http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fuser%2Fuccvideos%23p%2Fu%2F2%2Fz9kCGWKhlH8&h=fa255dfc7b21b8d27f79a3356c36566d
I have also come across a couple of really inspirational videos, which I'll see if I am savvy enough to link in this space, I managed on FB.I hope this works, it's hard for me to tell because I don't get the clip image as a guide on this page. I'll have to ask someone who is more adept for assistance.
Anyway, this first one brought me to tears, this is truely the power of gratitude. What a blessing this young man is, and talking his story to kids is so affirming.
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1199174473976&ref=mf
This one made me smile. I am a fan of inclusion, knowing that we are all Children of a loving God (Goddess/ Spirit/Power, or whatever rocks with you). This is truely the power of Love, and the manifestation of faith.
http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fuser%2Fuccvideos%23p%2Fu%2F2%2Fz9kCGWKhlH8&h=fa255dfc7b21b8d27f79a3356c36566d
And for fun, some summer fun with a couple of silly kids:
So, someone let me know if I did it right and you can get to these pieces, or, look them up on my FB page. Have a Blessed evening.
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