Human Nature

I’ve been watching (too closely probably) the news about the Hurricane aftermath. The various media reporters are always looking for the ‘human angle’ in their stories and they certainly have much to choose from here. And as I am watching I can’t help but ponder the nature of 'human nature.'

That people are even willing to be interviewed or photographed for the national media seems extraordinary to me. But they are willing, and what they say, in these extraordinary circumstances, and how they say it, is worth attending to if you want to understand something about who Americans are in this age.

They talk of helping – neighbors pulling neighbors out of flooded homes, rescuers risking their own safety and comfort to help others – and of miraculous survival. There are stories of efforts to save a stranded seal; and joy at the survival of a pelican. People want their loved ones to know they are OK. There is great sadness. Promises to rebuild and assurances that they’ll come out of this OK are heartfelt and hopeful. One woman just looked around her and said “there are no words…”

And then there are scenes of looting. What is the “nature” of a person who would have stealing jeans and jewelry as their first reaction to a disaster of this magnitude? Sorry, but “I’ve been oppressed” just doesn’t even begin to explain, much less excuse. And there was the man who was so angry that “they” haven’t done anything to help him yet… But those were the exceptions, not the rule.

I want to think I know our “nature.” That we are a people of integrity, ability, character and self-sufficiency. That we value life over everything but liberty. That we appreciate beauty and grieve its loss. That we love with an almost unlimited capacity. That we can be outraged. That we help others when we can, but we know we are responsible for ourselves. That in the face of disaster, we can find no words, but we act.

Time

I think I had this day yesterday. It rained then - it is raining now. I futzed with my website then, and I am futzing with it now. (Just reloaded it for about the 15th time!) The cats are sleeping nearby, just as yesterday. The news is full of Hurricane Katrina, and that's a repeat too.

I spent all day last Saturday thinking it was Sunday. I am caught in a strange time warp.

There has been endless speculation, scientific and literary, about the nature of time. Jack Finney, in his book, Time and Again, postulated that we could "think" our way into another time, by re-creating that atmosphere and submersing ourselves in it. Scott Adams (Dilbert) offers the theory of infinite parallel universes that we are moving through but in which nothing else actually moves. Albert Einstein carried on about E=MC2 and maybe that means something and maybe it doesn't. 'Time' is weird. Or at least it might be.

My birthday is December 24th and I used to think I should just change it to July 24th and make it more convenient, but there was endless discussion among friends that if I did that it would make me six months older. Why wouldn't that mean I'd be six months younger instead?

Time is an inconsistent constant. It "marches on." Or at least I hope so. I think I had this day yesterday, but I can't be sure. If so, will I be six months younger or just in an alternate universe?

Futzing

I’m a “futzer,” evidently; one of those people who endlessly tweak their computer work. My husband hates the ‘type.’ But there you have it. I have met the idiot and it is me, so to speak.

I woke up this morning wondering why I hadn’t widened the format of my website document – it was very narrow on the screen because that’s the way my software had it configured; this after obsessing for the last two days on this project that is actually pointless in the first place. So I woke up thinking that I could just go into “page setup” and change that – and sure enough – with one click it was wider. Of course that meant all the formatting was off… And I noticed some of the pictures were too dark...

I’ve re-sized, re-positioned, added hyperlinks, and taken away extra text not needed because of the added hyperlinks. Twice I had to go to “tech help” and have an online “chat” in a “virtual chat room” with a technician (Cathy enters the room. Paul enters the room. How can I help you? says Paul, “virtually” so to speak, in this virtual room.) Very weird. I uploaded, got error messages, tried again, renamed files, replaced files, deleted pictures because I had once again exceeded the size limits, had excellent help from Mark, more excellent help from MJ (to reduce picture size!) added more pictures again, and finally got things working. Generally I'm happy with it. For now.

Until I look again and see something else that could be “improved.” I wonder if there is a cure for futzing? Maybe a good book.

What do other people do with their time?

Thunder and rain

Today I am watching a storm, here in Kentucky, in all its dark and dreary fierceness. I love storms, but have never experienced a bad one, a life threatening one. So I am wondering, with THIS storm outside my windows, what THAT storm, down there in New Orleans, is like. That Hurricane Katrina storm. And wondering if I'd be like the "die hards" who don't want to leave their homes and seek uncomfortable and inconvenient shelter elsewhere for an undetermined time. What a decision. What a mess!

But MY storm is a beauty - it is just pouring down rain and I can almost see the grass growing greener already. The worst that will happen here is that a few pumpkin leaves will be pushed down and maybe they'll have to close the Valley View ferry due to high water levels for a time.

My other plans for the day are delayed. I'm going to sit here and watch this wonderful storm. And keep my eye on THAT one too. And wonder about the whole business.

Dumpster Diving, or how I could succeed as homeless person

I saw a news report on some “regular” people in New York City who Dumpster Dive for food and other goods thrown away by businesses every day. They were trying to point out the waste that Americans – or grocery stores at least – generate unnecessarily. I am tucking the idea into my mental file folder of ‘how to succeed as a homeless, destitute person.’ I figure that I need to be prepared for my old age.

I first started thinking about how to be a successful “destitute” several years ago, when a man who walked into our community college counseling center was immediately identified by one of the senior staff as a homeless man who was just released from jail. Apparently the lack of shoelaces gave part of it away – you don’t get to keep your shoelaces in jail. I started wondering what other challenges – and solutions – might be involved if I were to find myself a participant in this “lifestyle.” (Of course if the "lifestyle" was forced on me, I'd be thinking other things entirely!)

Obviously this man knew that a college campus would provide shelter during long, odd hours, was located along a bus line, had a cafeteria with freshly dumped garbage cans and was full of sympathetic people. He may not have had his shoelaces, but he knew he could wash his socks in the men’s room.

It seemed to me that a person could be smart about being destitute and be OK – so I set out to develop a plan. (That would be just like me, wouldn’t it?)

Any good plan depends on a comprehensive needs-assessment (safety, temperature amelioration, mobility, nutrition, and sanitation) coupled with a list of challenges (having to push your shopping cart around with all your worldly possessions, where to wash your socks – although we may have that one solved) and an analysis of options. I always wondered, for example, why panhandlers in San Francisco were asking for change for a cup of coffee, cigarettes or a beer. There is no nutritional benefit to a cup of coffee. No, I would be smarter than that. I’d go for the big nutritional bang of a fresh tomato or banana or apple, or buy a can of soup. I’d also try to save for a bus pass – that would be very valuable for warmth and comfort as well as transportation. And don’t forget the possible benefits of "residing" in a wide interstate median with trees – roadkill could be readily available, as well as rubber tire debris for shelter. Potable water can be found at rest stops. In addition to the aforementioned colleges, libraries would also be a good place to spend some time. (Although the public library in Wrangell, Alaska specifically prohibits sock washing in the lavatories. There is a sign. I saw it. I think their problem was more that people left the socks hanging to dry afterward…)

I think this plan is shaping up nicely.

(Please, I know homelessness is a serious problem in the world. But this isn’t the world; it’s just my blog. And very little is serious here.)

My personal web page

My latest experiment finally worked: I have a personal web page with a link from this blog! As I mentioned before, it probably doesn't make sense as a web page per se - I just tried the first idea that came to mind and went from there. Hopefully I'll get a better idea before long and change it into something that might actually be legit but, for now, at least I know a way to create and publish.

And there is a promise for more now that I am learning some things as well - thanks to MJ - a frequent "commenter" on my blog! I LOVE the internet!

Are pigs flying?

Is my Plan progressing?

'Hand Crafted' Applied Differently

I spent most of the day yesterday developing a website. Of course I don’t have any reason to HAVE a website, but that didn’t stop me. I made up a reason just so I could play around with Microsoft Publisher to create one. I love that program, but must confess: This is NOT hand crafting.

It WAS wonderful fun though. I posted pictures, played with font style, size and color, rearranged the page, spun off new pages, formatted text boxes, tweaked alignment, changed templates and color pallets a dozen times, added and subtracted features, and endlessly tested it out in “preview.”

I may not have Content, but I have Style.

Then, of course, I had to go back and change it all again because I exceeded the 10MB of space my ISP provider offers in their "for free" deal. Oh well.

I also have no idea what I am doing from a technical standpoint. Do I need to learn about HTML and CSS and whatever other 'mystery acronyms' are out there that govern this stuff? Evidently not. Just like Blogger provided the means to set up this blog and make it all work and look good, there are lots of tools out there that will let me do just about anything else with my computer. So is this 'cheating' somehow?

I think my web page turned out great - or might, if I actually put it on the web. But it still might be cool to know all the inside stuff that makes this happen.

Aren’t I the one who loves “Hand Crafted,” after all?

Hand Crafted

We visited the Craft Fair at Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill (http://www.shakervillageky.org/) a couple of weeks ago. I love hand crafting – basket making, quilting, weaving, wood working, sewing, metal work – all of it (although I don’t stop to look at beadwork very much...) I love the skill, the care and attention… the love… that goes into each piece; but mostly I am fascinated by Creativity.

I have a friend in Florida who makes these incredible fabric bags to sell. The variety in the designs, the quality of materials and craftsmanship would take your breath away. They are simply stunning. I’m not sure I understand how she does it.

 

I used to make quilts. They were (are) beautiful but they are all copied designs. I’d find a pattern I liked and off I’d go. Believe me, there is a lot of time and care and attention that goes into making a quilt, and I can give myself credit for that. But I really wish I’d been able to design them too.

So without that spark of genius in myself, I’m afraid I’ve got quite a habit of acquiring beautiful, hand-crafted things from others. (When I die my son won’t inherit much money but he’ll sure have a lot of great stuff.) I bought a beautiful basket at the Craft Fair to put in my entryway. I also couldn’t resist a Shaker box that I sent right off to my mother. I’ve “invested” in hand-blown glass, pottery, metal work, ivory and stone carving, watercolors – you name it, I’m a sucker for it.

It is Genius I admire – and that can take many forms. Creativity is only one of them – probably the one I wish I had most.

Probability

A bath towel has two ends, and a label is sewn on one side of one end.
I fold my bath towel in half lengthwise and hang it over a towel rack.
The label can, by chance, be in the back (and not be seen,) or on either the front or back of the inside (and also not be seen) or in the front – where I see it every time I walk into the bathroom. The probability is that ONLY 1 time out of 4 will I hang my towel wrong – so that the label shows.

WHY IS THE LABEL ALWAYS SHOWING?

Who is responsible for the laws of probability? I have something to discuss with that person.

Pumpkin Progress

 



 

They sure are growing!

Hypnosis

I am constantly amazed at what you can find in a Google search on the World Wide Web. Today I discovered that you can actually download a hypnosis "script" to lose weight. Presumably this cuts out the middle man - the actual hypnotist. If this is what downloading can do, think of the possibilities!

Could this be the perfect method to “lose your sweet tooth?” (As advertised)

I love the internet.

Reading

I’ve been reading Scott Adams’ book, The Dilbert Future, a quite hilarious effort at “futuring” based on Dilbert’s unique perspective. The entire premise of the book is that we are all gullible imbeciles and I, for one, think that’s as good a starting point as any for predicting the future. (Perhaps more on that later.) It struck me that it wasn't my typical 'read' though - and now I am wondering what IS.

I’ve spent the summer reading Kurt Vonnegut with a little bit of Carl Hiaasen thrown in, as well as some Michael Chabon and a perhaps ill-advised plodding through Neal Stephenson’s ultimately disappointing ‘historical’ trilogy. (And, of course, I had a little romp with Harry Potter in July, but who didn’t?) I think I’m going to start on Tom Robbins again next, although I have whole shelves full of Martin Cruz Smith and John le Carre´ that I’d enjoy diving into again as well; and just bought one by Margaret Atwood...

I read for ideas, for the way words are put together to create images or humor, for the insights into the human condition – for pure enjoyment. The first ‘important’ book I remember reading was not the dark, unhappy literature of high school English classes; it was Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. Wow, what an impact that book had on my life and politics. I started reading Vonnegut in college and he and I sort of matured together, I almost think. (If you want to read his books, I'd recommend starting with his first one and continuing chronologically.)

My love of reading came from teenage summers spent with the books of British humor ‘master’, P.G. Wodehouse. Over the last 10 years or so, I’ve found some of his delightful brand of word-smithing and plot-circling in Terry Pratchett, author of the Discworld books. I read Ann Rice too, although I never thought I'd be interested in 'vampire' books until I was sick and needed something to occupy my mind while recovering. (My husband bought me the whole series-to-date of the Vampire Lestat and I’ve been reading all the new ones ever since, with their wonderfully complex relationships and morality issues.) For that matter I read Ann Tyler as well - go figure. And Sue Grafton and Dick Francis for simple recreation; and Richard Russo for his characters; and Patricia Cornwell for her compassion; and Neil Gaiman for his fantasies...

The thing is, I don’t remember the specific gems I've read and loved, once I am done with them. So I can rediscover them over and over.

Proving, thereby, that Dilbert is right – I, at least, am a gullible imbecile. And my future is in books.

A Weather Channel rant, again

Sorry, I can’t help myself. I’ve been watching the Weather Channel for news of Hurricane Katrina, and got the giggles over the very sincere “Storm Tracker, Jim Cantore” again. He is SO very sincere. What is the difference between a Meteorologist and a Storm Tracker? Is it that a Meteorologist is a career and a storm tracker is a made-up title they give to someone pretending to be a meteorologist?

You can do some great People Watching through the Weather Channel. (If you are easily offended by mild jeering at people, you should not read on!) The women are all dressed by someone who thinks people look best in clothes that are 2 sizes too small. And some of the make-up and hair cause me to wonder if there are real people under there.

But the funniest thing is to watch them do the 2-people-at-the-desk “report” where the one that isn’t talking is looking sincerely into the camera and nodding agreement with the one that is talking: “It is very hot out there today” (nod, nod, nod, sincere look, nod, nod…)

OK – I got it out of my system. Giggle, giggle. (nod, nod)

(Oh yeah, we actually got some rain tonight. It wasn't "predicted" but we got it anyway.)

And in other news...

The Kentucky State Fair is in full swing in Louisville this week. There is something about a state fair that I can barely resist. It isn’t the funnel cakes or the carnival rides as much as the quilt displays and peach preserve judging. According to the paper, today’s schedule includes:

• 4-H youth swine show
• Kentucky Farm Bureau Gospel Quartet Contest
• Miller’s Border Collie Show
• Cast-Iron Chef competition
• Kentucky Pork Producers Racing Pigs
• 4-H tractor contest
• Sale of champions
• Open Sheep Show
• George Jones and the Kentucky Sisters

How can we not be there? If you’ve never seen a little 4-H kid try to show a pig almost her own size in a ring when the pig has other ideas, you haven’t lived.

And how about that Open Sheep Show? I don’t even know what that means...

From the newspaper

I saw an article today, written by Kim Ode for the Minneapolis Star Tribune, about “muffin tops… the nickname for the roll of flesh that swells over” low-rise jeans. I love the way she put it:

“The low-rise trend has hung tough for about five years – longer than the fashion industry imagined or many parents wished. The phenomenon isn’t limited to girls, of course. Some women also like jeans that hug a spot that, for many, doesn’t benefit from scrutiny, much less bakery imagery.”

Isn’t that the truth?

Now Counting

I added a “counter” to my blog today – and wish I’d done it sooner. I had another one of those days yesterday where I got 7 new comments in a matter of a few minutes so it must have been my turn in the “random display” queue on Blogger. Very interesting, how that works. So now I am really wondering how many "hits" I am getting and this, I guess, is the way to find out.

(And anyway, I just wanted to note the date that the counter was added.)

I impress even myself with my new technical acumen. Ahem. Of course now I am feeling compelled to check it every hour to see if it is working and I don't think it is...

Incidently, one of the comments was even a coherent, thoughtful response to a posting, instead of just a "I was here - now look at mine!" sort of thing. Very nice.

Teachers teaching teachers-to-be

After my rant about auctioneering chants a couple of days ago I started thinking again about one of my ‘pet peeves’ in Education – students, loving a subject and the way it is taught, growing up to teach that subject in the same way they learned it. It spells doom for anyone not naturally inclined!

For example, in my experience people who ‘get’ math easily – and grow up to teach it – are already attuned to it in a way that the rest of us are not. It never bothers them that the ‘language’ of math is incomprehensible to those of us who love Language.

All the “therefore it clearly follows that…” statements in math texts left me frustrated that I didn’t follow ANY of it, clearly or otherwise. (Saying it is "clear" doesn't make it so.) “Let x be…” is never a statement I’d read willingly.

Math teachers (MY math teachers at least) never understand the challenges those things pose to their non-math-inclined students. They just keep right on teaching – and eventually authoring textbooks – according to time-honored tradition. I guess they just assume that the rest of us are idiots if we don't understand.

PE teachers are even worse! Surely they became PE teachers because they loved, and did well in, PE. (Why else would anyone do such a thing?) They are zealots about sports and exercise. And they just don’t understand why they can’t promote Lifetime Fitness by making their uncoordinated, fat and out of shape students run 3 miles in the heat on the first day of school. They make kids sick instead – and there never will be a Fitness Devotee who exercises because it makes him or her feel sick.

(And it would have saved my sisters and I a lot of getting-hit-in-the-face-with-the-ball if some PE teacher had just taken the time to explain about eye-hand coordination instead of just yelling "keep your eye on the ball" at us. We honestly couldn't imagine how that would help!)

Aspiring teachers should be encouraged to teach the subject they DIDN'T do well in. That’s what I think.

Todd's fish

In the picture of Frik by the piano in a previous post, you can see another picture ON the piano. In case anyone wanted a closer look, this is Todd and his big fish - taken in Alaska, lo these many years ago. Isn't it a doozy? Yes, he caught it himself, on a light salmon rod that he was using to try to catch "big-mouth-uglies" while being bored halibut fishing.

Figuring out Technical Stuff

This Blogger business is cool.

I managed to figure out how to edit my “Links” (on the right hand column of my blog) today. Of course I don’t know what to link to, particularly, since I usually just go to my news 'home page' and then to HGTV to enter some Sweepstakes or other and maybe to check out a sale at Pottery Barn.

But I managed to create a link to andreas.com because he has some other cool “stuff,” including a Cat User’s Manual that is written like a computer manual – and is fun to read. So maybe you'd enjoy it too. (Try it - the link really works! They are so clever, these blog-facilitator types.)

I also figured out how to get a quote at the bottom of my page; something I’ve been trying to do since I started and seemed to be just missing some mystical symbol or something. But that is what is so cool about this – they let you see the “code.” Makes me feel like an “insider” or something. Well, maybe not.

But I'm getting the hang of this Technical Stuff.

Playing Piano With Frik

Having caught a PBS program on composer/lyricist team Rogers and Hammerstein the other day, I’ve been playing some of their music on my piano lately. And Frik has joined in. Howling. (Doesn't he look more than a little crazed?)

Is he trying to make it known that he doesn’t like show tunes? Or is it simply the whole Piano Playing business? I wouldn’t like to think it is because I’m such a bad pianist... although there is some evidence that I should give consideration to this theory. No, my faults are more along the line of bad fingering and lack of technical competence, than of blatantly giving offense. Is Frik enough of a connoisseur that the occasional missed note would set him howling? I think not.

I really WANT to believe that he just can’t stand the fact that my fingers are occupied with some other activity besides scratching his ears. That’s because I DON’T want to believe that he is singing along.

At any rate, Playing Piano With Frik has been a less-than-satisfying experience. Quite possibly for both of us. But he is my constant companion at home and I can't really play the piano, or do anything else for that matter, without him.

Life is full of mixed blessings. And everyone's a critic.

Auction Chants

We were flipping through channels and ran across an auction of used cars and trucks on a local channel. I was surprised to hear the old-fashioned auctioneer’s chant – you know – where he is calling out numbers in a sing-song voice that is basically mumbling and you have no idea what he said until he yells “sold” and points at some poor hapless chap who was scratching his ear.

I had no idea that auctions were still conducted this way. And mostly I was wondering WHY they would still be conducted this way! So I looked up Auctioneering on the internet and found that there are Auctioneering Schools where you can develop and perfect your very own “chant” – as if this is a desirable thing! They focus on technique, voice control and ‘effectiveness’ and describe “little rhyming devices and shortcuts to keep their chants simple but interesting.” Effective? Interesting? Hmmmmm. They suggest that good bid callers “blend art and entertainment.” Evidently the assumption is made that this is necessary to keep buyers interested and the auction moving along. Could that be?

Or maybe this is one of those situations in which a method is passed on from one practitioner to the next and there is never any input from someone outside the “profession,” if you will, supporting its effectiveness. A practice goes on in perpetuity whether it makes sense to anyone other than the “perpetrator.”

I offer final proof of my argument: Used car salesmen and their “wheelin’ and dealin’.” ArghhhhhhH!

"Dated"

I have spent more time than I should have over the past several years watching decorating shows on TV. Lately I've been enjoying the ones about trying to figure out why a particular house hasn’t sold after being on the market for a period of time. Invariably some expert comes in and pronounces the décor to be 'dated' and in need of upgrading. Mystery solved – redo it all.

So my question is this: How would someone my age, who has been decorating (if I may use the term in its most casual sense) through the 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s and whatever-we-are-calling-these-years… how would I actually recognize 'dated' in décor? (Goodness knows it is enough of a challenge, at my age, to recognize it in clothes, hairstyle and make-up. I can’t really call that a success either!)

Yes, I do remember those Harvest Gold and Avocado color choices for appliances - was that the 60's? They might seem 'dated' to me if I saw them again. (Although maybe not – I just remembered that my crock pot and one of my cake pans are both avocado in color. Wow. How long have I had that crock pot?)

And how am I supposed to tell the difference between what is stylishly “retro” and what is simply 'dated?'

The truth is, I can’t hope to keep up. And can't understand why I would care.

I have spent entirely too much time watching HGTV.

A Confession

I'm not so much "running" the stairs
at this point as "walking" them, since
my knee gave out already,
but I AM persevering!

Cracker Barrel

Those readers who have actually visited us in Kentucky will be rolling your eyes already, just from reading this posting's title! (And those of you with visits planned, beware!) Yes, we drag all our out-of-town company to the Cracker Barrel restaurant for some down-home cooking and a taste of Southern comfort. It is, quite simply, a unique experience. Morbidly fascinating, as it were. And we can’t get enough of it. We were there last night.

What is it about Cracker Barrel? The one we go to most often serves a rural community, so the people-watching is World Class entertainment. People of all sizes and hairdos (yes, we are talking mullets here...) Families, large and small. A fair sprinkling of travelers. We were there on Mother’s Day last year (just a coincidence, since we don’t celebrate Mother’s Day between us, neither of us being mother to the other) and the crowd was of the once-a-year-out-to-dinner sort. There was ‘mama’ with her corsage and her huge beehive hairdo and polyester dress, surrounded by freshly scrubbed kin, all 14 of them. They were sitting up very straight in their chairs and the waitress was talking very slowly to them, evidently trying to explain what a menu was.

Last night we were nearly run over in the parking lot 3 times – and only one of those was by a car.

The variety of John Deere merchandise in the Country Store section is unparalleled – it is where we got a John Deere clock and a John Deere model tractor and a John Deere road sign…

Yep, fried chicken and fried catfish… Great place, Cracker Barrel.

Ghost writing good stuff

It is a matter of who wants America to be what it has always been and who wants it to be something new...

One of my good friends forwards email to me now and then of the "pass it on" variety. I find it interesting that these messages float around on the internet, evidently for years, and must go through millions of Americans who think "right on!" when they read them - enough to keep them going around and around and around.

I've kept two of those essays because I fancy that they speak to Middle America in a way that no political candidate would dare any longer. The essays are plainspoken without being offensive (I think so, anyway), and cut through some of the mud and mire of the national rhetoric on minorities in America and America's foreign policy. I'm guessing that their appeal would cross most of the American demographic yet they are probably in the "I can't believe someone said that out loud" category. (Or actually, more likely they are in the "why didn't someone say that sooner?" category.)

In any case, one peculiar thing about these essays is that they are attributed to some public person who evidently had nothing to do with them. One is supposed to be an essay by Andy Rooney of "60 Minutes" fame and the other is credited to Robin Williams, the comedian and actor. But the "rumor mill" investigation website truthorfiction.com says neither one is associated with anyone famous - and certainly neither Rooney nor Williams wrote them. I suspect the attribution has something to do with the aforementioned "saying it out loud" problem!

So if they weren't written by their stated authors, we can imagine that they could have been written by anyone. My dad, for instance...


Anyway, check them out if you are interested:

http://www.truthorfiction.com/rumors/r/robinwilliamspeaceplan.htm
http://www.truthorfiction.com/rumors/a/andyrooneycommentary.htm

Back to the Plan

When I started this blog I wrote that it was to focus on development of a plan for the near (if not far) future. Well, maybe not. Mostly I just saw an article about blogging that connected me to this site and when I saw how easy it was, I got started. (Or rather, I got started… to see how easy it was.) I love to write; thought it would be fun; and needed to create a title and have it be a URL that wasn’t already taken. Hence, cathywithoutaplan. A random thought became a project.

If you’ve been reading along from the beginning, you might be thinking that Plan Development seemed to be taking a back seat to trivia, fluff and the occasional, and probably ill-advised, foray into more serious topics. Stuff just occurs to me, and I start to write. Probably no “direction” is suggesting itself from all this, although I AM seeing that random thoughts CAN become projects. So maybe the Plan has a first step, anyway.

If I had to put a simple title to my professional background I’d reluctantly admit to having been a “Career Counselor” most of my life. So you can imagine how embarrassing it is to be without a career idea myself! But through all the years of doing career/guidance counseling and facilitating school-to-work transitions, I’ve always thought that the best results came from random connections – a person we met, a single opportunity that led to another and better opportunity, “resonance” with something we read or heard somewhere. Doors open, and the one we choose to enter means both that we don’t find out what was behind a bunch of other ones, and that new ones appear that wouldn’t have presented themselves if we hadn’t chosen one in the first place. Maybe a better characterization is that Sparks Ignite.

I don’t know if this is going to lead to anything or not – but I seem to be at least moderately obsessed with it, so I’ll continue with Random Connections and looking for sparks.

Weather forecasting

On Thursday the forecast for Sunday was 'rain, 72 degrees.' On Friday the forecast for Sunday was 'cloudy, 82 degrees.' On Saturday the forecast for Sunday was 'partly cloudy with showers developing, 85 degrees.' Today, Sunday, it looks to be sunny and hot. I know this from looking out the window.

That weather prediction is still as inaccurate as it was when bunions told us "it's gonna storm bad" is the worst kept secret of our age. The Weather Channel is big business with a huge following; every podunk TV and radio news station has its own Meteorologist on staff, all to let us know how to plan our week by their sure predictions of the weather. And we know, from almost daily disappointments, that they couldn't predict the weather an hour in advance, much less a 3-5 day forecast. But they keep predicting, we keep watching, and somehow we are all in on the conspiracy: Don't ever look back or acknowledge your mistakes.

Just once I'd like to hear a weather report that started with "Boy, were we wrong!"

Weekly Pumpkin Update

It's actually about 6 inches long!

Opinions abound

Cindy Sheehan, the mother of a soldier killed in Iraq, said she had questions to ask the President about the Iraqi war and was going to camp out by his Texas ranch until he came out and answered them. It seemed to me that she really didn’t have questions; she had opinions – strong ones – and wanted a chance to express them in a very public format. And I think that’s fine – but why try to disguise it? “Questions” suggest that a dialogue might take place or that learning could result. Cindy Sheehan wasn’t asking questions. She didn't care about answers. She was demanding action.

In the political world we don’t seem to do questions and answers any more. We think we already HAVE the answers. We have our opinions, and we just want someone to listen to us and change their behaviors or decisions – retroactively, no less – to match what we think they should have done. And we don’t especially want to listen to the opinions THEY have in turn. So what did we all base our opinions on in the first place?

Opinions abound in our political world, but real discourse - the desired starting point for opinion-forming - is elusive. It’s too hard; too uncomfortable; too time-consuming. We feel too impotent. We’ll be ridiculed for our arguments. Worse still, we could be accused of being politically incorrect, a tactic that has effectively gagged political discussion in this country for years. We’re racists if we talk about immigration or crime; we’re accused of anti-Semitism if we question Middle East peace; we’re just “stupid” if we aren’t liberals or “immoral” if we aren’t conservatives.

I have a good mind. I know I do. I’m smart. But I am so conditioned to stay out of the argument that I find I can’t – or simply won’t – apply my intellect to ideas and solutions in the political conflict. Question: Why is that? Answer: Who would listen?

The national media simply try to pretend that people are engaging in debate by conducting and reporting single-item polls with leading questions, or televising “man on the street” interviews with imbeciles, or quoting some Celebrity with a questionable IQ, a doubtful education and a sound-bite opinion that we are somehow supposed to find meaningful. This sort of thing doesn't inform us. It isn't thought provoking or even concept oriented. It is designed to generate a gut reaction of agreement so we can move on to sports or Jerry Seinfeld reruns.

We have a lot of “answers” but they sure don’t seem to be based on much. And we sure seem to be in a mess as a result.

Friday

I don't have anything to say today. I'm not sure why. I certainly have had plenty to say on all those other days. Maybe it's time for a break. Maybe an hour from now I'll be typing compulsively again, but right now I don't have anything to say. That should be OK, right? Not really surprising, I'd think. There's no reason to expect that I'll have something to say on a daily basis.

I suspect it has something to do with that incredibly black cloud that is coming right toward my window. Surely there is rain in it. And this wonderful possibility leaves all other thoughts in the background.

It might rain. And I don't have anything else to say.

Curiosities of the Blogosphere

I tried to establish, from the beginning, that I have no “street creds” for blogging – am not a tekkie, am not even in the typical demographic for bloggers – really just enjoy writing and thought this would be a good way to do some. I’m a little afraid of Cyberspace because of virus warnings and privacy issues, but not afraid enough to pass up the opportunity to learn about this phenomenon. So here I am, enjoying the chance to put ideas down, to stay in touch with family and friends in a way that communicates ME as well as my thoughts and ideas.

Don't get me wrong though - I absolutely understand that this is an open, public forum that anyone can read. That was part of the attraction - the possibility of a wider audience, however unlikely.

It was a spur of the moment thing – and I’ve been having fun with it, so I’ve kept at it. But not without a little trepidation (that’s a good word – I can use it again, right?) I kept testing it out. I would try entering key words into Google to see if it would come up in a search – it hasn’t – and so I gained a little confidence and figured that I pretty much know that I have "limited" readership. I know who you are who are reading it (because I have given the URL to you) and you know me – quite well, of course. Consequently, the whole business about the punctuation is an effort to broaden the “bandwidth” of communication-via-internet precisely because you do know me; to give MY voice, which you know, to these printed words so that greater meaning (and, largely, greater humor!) can be inferred. I’m pretty confident that you have all recognized the “tongue-in-cheek” nature of most of my comments. (Confession: I did know the real story on Milli Vanilli – though not all of it – but used that headline simply because it was a funny one to make my point; same with the business about Paula Abdul and the golfer guy.)

Also, I’m quite sure that you - the audience that I know about - don’t know much more about blogging than I do. OK.

So now, I've finally gotten some comments on my blog. Some nice (thank you, someone, for the whole scoop on Milli Vanilli); some totally irrelevant, but all of which surprised me since I think the only way for someone to find this blog without the specific URL is by “trolling” – and I'm just surprised to find that there are people who do that??? (When I tried it I eventually ended up on a blog that started opening up windows and downloading something! I shut the whole computer down, quick!) It’s an odd world out there.

Evidently at least a partial answer about why people would comment is so they can invite you to read their own blog in turn. Which – and please forgive this obvious gaffe, whoever you are – leads one to wonder why someone reading THIS blog might have thought I'd be interested in Russian Brides?

I’m learning new stuff all the time.

Pet Peeves and Positive People

I was waiting in the checkout line at the grocery store and the woman in front of me was standing at the register watching her groceries slide over the scanner. That’s fine – probably the most interesting thing she’s seen all day. But only when the clerk was all done and announced the total, did this woman finally reach into her purse, rummage around for her checkbook and start writing a check. She stopped writing, completely... twice... to turn around to say something to the little boy who was patiently waiting in her cart. I think it took as long for her to get that check written as it had taken her to shop in the first place.

(I am thinking about this now only because I have been in the disappointing position of not being able to buy ice cream at the grocery store any longer because it takes so long to go through the checkout, load the groceries in the car and drive the 12 miles or so back to the house in the heat. That people can further slow me down with such idiotic behavior might be cause to revise my fresh produce purchases as well.)

Anyway, this prompted me to start ticking off a list of my pet peeves as I finally left the store (slow checkouts being, at that point, #1, followed closely by stepping-on-gum-in-parking-lots and degenerating quickly into mad thoughts of dust bunnies and such at home…) I had to bring myself up short and revise my strategy for getting through the week.

I admire positive people. I would love to think I am one of them. I certainly am a “happy” person. But, “positive?” More and more the evidence suggests that I am not. Surely the “glass half full” kind of gal would have been spending the extra time in the checkout line gleefully pouring through the tabloids. I should be worried. But, perversely, I am not. The world needs cynics too. And peevish people. Happy to oblige.

Pumpkin plants take over the world

They sure are growing! They sure have spread! This is, of course, the amateur gardener's classic mistake, but even knowing that, we couldn't help ourselves. Sure, the seed packets had instructions on the back and yes, they might have said something about thinning the seedlings to 2 feet apart that we may have disregarded... mostly.

By now the plants have filled in the spaces between rows, to say nothing of filling in spaces between the individual plants. At this point the whole thing is a mass of flowers. (Thank goodness we didn't grow zucchini! We'd be out on the roadside trying to give them away by now.)

I was looking online for pumpkin-growing advice and found incomprehensible stuff about granular fertilizers, organic matter, foliar fertilizers, good soil tilth... There was also an alarming discussion about male and female flowers and manual pollination, making me think we might have a long weekend ahead of us.

But not to worry. Mark has it all under control. Bees have been spotted. Fertilizing has happened. Pollination is accomplished.

I obviously don't have enough to do.

Just sharing pictures

 

 

Volunteering

I had no idea that it would be so difficult for me to find a place and a way to be a volunteer. I wanted to have something useful to do with my time, get out of the house on a regular basis, meet some new people here in Kentucky, and maybe get an idea about a job possibility. I was looking for a close-to-home volunteer opportunity in which I could use some of my professional skills. A reasonable criteria, right?

As I started to search, I found that most volunteering opportunities involve either a one-on-one commitment for an extended period of time, or mindless envelope-stuffing, people-escorting, flower-delivering, rummage-sorting responsibilities. I didn’t think I was destined for either type.

Too many years working one-on-one with teens myself, and too many sensational headlines about people getting arrested or sued as thanks for their good intentions put me off on the “commitment” thing. I just don’t have that kind of commitment to give any longer. It is too frustrating, too consuming, too fraught with traps and frankly, too spare on rewards. That sounds really negative, but that is the truth for me. Been there. Done that. Can’t do it any more.

And mind-numbing tasks generate even more obvious “arguments against.”

So I found something through a local hospital – a “Patient Representative” program in which trained volunteers visit with patients on their 2nd day in the hospital to assure that they are satisfied with the services they are receiving from the hospital – nursing care, their room, and even the food (which strikes me as risky!) If there are complaints (and there have been very few!) I have access to the unit managers, nursing supervisors, housekeeping and dietary directors and anyone else I need to contact to get them resolved. I have the opportunity to write up a “Celebration” note when someone is reported as particularly helpful or nice.

Did it meet the criteria? Well, I have a 40 minute drive to get there. I have to use a private office to get organized and do the paperwork, so I don’t have much chance to meet new people or have regular conversations with anyone. It certainly isn't going to lead to a job. But I do talk to some great folks – patients or their family/friends who make jokes or carry on and on about this or that, or effusively compliment their nurses. Sometimes I hold a hand when I run across someone who is alone and scared. Yes, many of my professional skills are tapped. It is working for me. And hopefully it is working for them.

Running the Stairs

They’re noisy – our stairs – because they are made of wood with no covering over them, and because they are enclosed and leading to the basement. They aren’t really deep enough for my big feet and I have to hang on to the rail in case I trip over the edge of one, which I often do. There are 11 of them, if you don’t count the landing and angle to the final 3, which I don’t.

I am trying to run up and down, up and down… and it isn’t going well. First there is the whole motivation thing – a BIG thing, as it involves physical exercise – and then there is the whole “feet” thing – mine usually hurt whenever I am actually using them. And it is all further complicated by the breathing thing and the overheating thing and the sheer boredom thing. I’m not a natural, shall we say, for exercise.

Mark has been “running the stairs” for weeks now – after my comment that I was going to try that myself, because it would at least be inside where it is cool, and not out where dogs could follow me, or where I could otherwise make a fool of myself in front of other people. Of course I failed to follow through, but Mark thought it was a great idea and was off and running, as it were.

And then he announced the other day that it has helped enormously – his butt is cuter. How could I argue with that?

So I am running the stairs myself. Huff… puff…

Headline News

I am amazed at the headlines that appear in the news – those topics that are deemed important enough by some presumably experienced News Professional to appear each day as our “recommended reading list.” On my internet home page there are probably 100 different headlines, each meant to catch my eye and make me want to click to the next page for the complete story (and, more importantly, so I can see all the ads that are there.) Of these “news” headlines, possibly 1/10 of them are actual news, but usually with some bizarre twist:

• POLICE SHOOT MAN TWICE IN ONE NIGHT
• BANK HEIST GOES UNSEEN

A majority of the rest are related to Hollywood and celebrity updates. I am obviously not keeping up on all this, nor do I see any reason to even know who these people are. Why are they so prominent in my news? For example:

• CAN MICKELSON HOLD ON?– This was actually a banner headline - 'above the fold,' as it were. Who is this Mickelson and what is he holding on to?
• HAS KELLI CLARKSON BEEN DOING A MILLI VANILLI?– Again I ask, Who? Who? What does this mean?
• AFTER PROBE, ABDUL TO REMAIN ON 'IDOL' – Was s/he abducted by aliens?

Then there are the ‘unusual interest’ articles:

• COLONEL SANDERS KICKS THE HABIT – I admit, I had to click on this one. It was about KFC taking the high road about tobacco while keeping the low road regarding calories.
• HOW OLD IS TOO OLD TO HAVE A BABY?
• DOCTOR INVESTIGATED IN FLESH-EATING PASTE SCAM - Sorry, but this sounds like tabloid material.
• NOT ENOUGH TESTING FOR URINARY WOES IN PETS

And finally there is a section entitled: “READ MORE OF THE WEB'S BEST REPORTING”

I think I’ll pass.

Rain!

Yes! We finally had rain – a spectacular storm that blew through here with all the drama and enthusiasm we hoped for. That it didn’t drop all that much rain is disappointing but the cool wind, fresh smell and booming thunder did a lot to cover up that fact, and we were happy indeed.

And as it was blowing up, two little wanderers appeared in our yard – lost dogs who were very happy to find someone to talk to and sniff at. (Actually they first appeared in the yard next door where “Doc” was in our care while his dad, Ed, was on vacation. Since we had Doc’s garage door open part way, they went in to check out his food dish and so were still hanging around when we went out to investigate.) One of them had a tag with a phone number so we called, and Mark escorted them over to the fence across the street where their own “mom and dad” finally appeared in their truck to take them home to their farm.

And the wind blew, and it must have felt something like the Wizard of OZ to Mark, returning Toto to Dorothy. I hope it rains again soon.

Saving Time

One of my favorite authors, Neal Stephenson, just went down a few notches in my estimation. I looked at his website and found a plain blue page that basically said “Don’t email or try to contact me; I don’t have the time to read foolishness from regular people; all of my time and attention are spoken for--several times over. Please do not ask for them.” OK.

I understand an aversion to getting unwanted mail (goodness knows Capital One credit cards have been, for a long time, MY most frequent correspondent and I’d just as soon they weren’t.) But that notion of time – that a person hasn’t ANY to spare and whoever crosses his or her radar had better be quick or, preferably, not there at all – is pervasive in American business and, quite frankly, stupid.

These are generally the same people who sneak out of their offices to have a smoke 15 times a day. And the ones who can’t be bothered hearing out a whole argument so that they can make an informed decision about something. (When this is how valuable they imagine their time to be – I can certainly imagine the quality of their decision-making as a result. Actually, we SEE the quality of their decision-making every day and it is worrisome indeed. This is a topic of discussion at our dinner table frequently.)

I can guess how this whole trend got started. Years ago some peon told some other peon not to answer the business phone right away so that people would think they were busy when they were really sitting around the gas station playing cards. (This really happened – I have, well, 2nd hand knowledge of this. And the 1st peon did, in fact, end up managing the place!) This seemed like such a good strategy that it spread! Lots of phones went unanswered and then after a while that didn't seem overt enough so people started actually telling other people that they were too busy to answer their phones... Alright, maybe this isn’t actually how it got started, but you get the point. My suspicion is that the people who make the biggest fuss about how valuable their time is are the ones who mismanage their own enough that they have to pretend to be important because they aren’t doing anything anyway.

Saving time is important to us all. But since we don’t know where that next big idea is going to come from, or whether the next person we meet is going to turn out to be our new best friend, or the conversation we have with a stranger is going to result in the deal of a lifetime, or that the extra thought we put into solving a problem is going to mean the solution to twenty other ones, maybe we need to put a little more courtesy and consideration into how we save our time. The discussion you cut short may not yet have reached the point where someone asks the critical question that prevents you from looking up the launch codes.

I wasn’t interested in contacting Neal Stephenson in the first place. But I’m a lot less interested in his ideas now too.

A stay-at-home weekend

It's still too hot to do anything and we decided, yesterday and again today, to stay home. This is unusual for us. Our lifestyle for several years was to get out every weekend day to do some hiking or exploring. Our four years in the north Bay area was spent in a house too close to neighbors to be comfortable spending much time in, so we compensated by roaming the countryside, taking pictures, getting some exercise and fresh air - being tourists.

I have 6 photo albums full of remembrances of those adventures. We hiked in Pt Reyes, visited lighthouses, took ferry rides, wandered city streets, found charming little restaurants, walked through Golden Gate Park, hiked on Angel Island, shopped in the squares in Healdsburg and Sonoma, rode the skylift to the winery in Napa Valley, drove up and down the beautiful Sonoma Coast. Wow. What an adventure that was. We could put 400 miles on the car in a weekend. Goodness knows how many miles we put on our feet! The photo albums document all those wonderful times and places - and suggest that we were pretty busy during those years!

So now we are spending the whole weekend in the house - venturing out only for the mail and paper (and, of course, to water the pumpkins!) And I have to say, we are just as content, albeit not as fit. We have time to do the little things that need and want doing, and time to spend fussing with the cats, checking the weather radar (that would be Mark, to whom I have to say: it is never going to rain again - accept that and move on.) We are reading a lot. Some of us are even watching little bits of old western movies on TV (ahem.) We have time to offer little observations to each other and to engage in big conversations. Afternoon naps have featured prominently. (Good grief – sounds like we are just getting old!)

What do I know? Lifestyle can change with the setting and situation - but we always have control over making it work for us, regardless of our situation. Flexibility, adaptability and optimism are important ingredients to our happiness. Pleasure can come from the small things as well as the big. And looking back can be as entertaining, sometimes, as looking ahead.

I think I’ll spend some time looking through photo albums on this stay-at-home weekend day.

So let's review...

So far we have noted that cats are good, summers are bad, and hillbillies are helpful. Don’t ever move to Kansas. Turtles are worth spending time with; so are pumpkin patches. Todd has, thus far, escaped being pictured. (Don’t count on your good fortune lasting forever, Sweetie.) I have entirely too much of a focus on food, but we all knew that anyway. The spell check program on the blog editor doesn’t work – but I’m trying to go back and catch the misspellings!

I remain, obviously, without a plan. But it might not matter, for sooner or later I’m going to be carried off either by huge insects or too much punctuation.

Punctuation Run Amok

I’ve been noticing some excesses in punctuation as I write. I am getting carried away with quotes, commas, explanation points and dashes particularly, although the parentheses are creeping in with alarming frequency as well. (Here I was tempted to put in an exclamation point, but refrained.) So is CAPITALIZATION-for-emphasis. (Oops!) I’m normally a low-key sort of person, not given to excesses in expression much at all, so this seems uncharacteristic for me.

But I can’t seem to help myself. It IS a different sort of writing from the grant and report documents that I’ve found myself producing for so many years. THIS writing (oh dear...) wants to have a voice attached and I don’t have another way to do it. (This must be why actual writers work to improve their vocabulary!) (Yikes! It happened again!!)

So anyone reading this – just give me a little smile and shake your head and maybe roll your eyes, but don’t expect it to get any better.

What's for dinner?

When I first got married, some 35 years ago, I had to learn to cook, fast. I managed to develop a repertoire of 7 meals - one for each day of the week - and then repeated them, over and over. That's an embarrassing enough confession but here's a worse one: I'm sure that one of those meals was to boil some hot dogs and open a can of beans! (No, that marriage didn't last and we don't have to speculate about why any longer.)

Over the years I got better, even though at one point in my life the only things you could find in my refrigerator were a package of flour tortillas, a block of cheddar cheese and some chocolate ice cream.

I don't so much have 'recipes' as ways of cooking or particular things to serve. Of course many of my 'favorites' are favorites through the experiences and people associated with them. Food is so connected to feelings - it's no wonder I'm fat!

My mother's roast beef and mashed-potatoes-with-gravy holds such good memories for me that I make it often - don't even talk to me about cholesterol or calories. I had a friend who served Chicken Chalupas at a dinner party once, and I've served that dish myself to friends and family for 30 years (it was a great evening.) When I lived for years in rural Alaska, potluck dinners were our main form of entertainment and Jean Brown Chocolate Cake came out of that - yum! For that matter, my own famous Orange Stuff was a star at those potlucks as well.

I made a Shoefly pie for Mark many years ago and it is still his favorite pie - and the association factor there is undeniable for I've never known a non-native Shoefly pie eater with that much passion for the pie.

Although my teenage years weren't what one might call rebellious, my fast-food addiction surely comes from the feelings that 'stopping for french fries and a coke on the way home from a game' engendered. Scandalous.

My son, Todd, always wanted to make complicated, original foods - by standing at the pantry door and pulling out miscellaneous ingredients to combine into improbable culinary creations. He still likes to cook that way. Associations!

My father's tacos, Gail's Christmas breakfast, Janet's pizza, Eve's Thai food, Theresa's taco casserole, Carl's fruit pizza - mmmmmm - all delicious in and of themselves, but memorable for their associations.

By now I can make a different meal for months of dinners without repeating a single one. And none of those would involve hot dogs or canned beans. But through every one of them... comfort, friends, laughter, love… family.

Parental even-handedness

With Maddie's picture included, Frik's had to be too. Here is our little bud with his carrot - a fuzzy toy with catnip stuffed inside (cat toy makers are perverse) that he has been positively devoted to for the last 2 days. Catnip is quite the thing, I guess.

This "parental even-handedness" can only mean one excruciating thing for Todd...

Doing lunch

I had an invitation to go out to lunch today - something that hasn't happened in a long time and another indicator of my "recluse" status here. I looked forward to it all week and enjoyed it, all the parts... seeing familiar faces, people I know waving at me when I walk in the door, the tuna sandwich, trying to follow multiple conversations, the little bits of news and catching up, the occasional surprise comment, laughter, sympathy, funny little confessions - all very nice.

I've "done lunch" in a lot of memorable ways and with a lot of wonderful people over the years. It's a nice institution, lunch. Not in the "I'll have my people call your people" way that pop culture would have it, but in the very civilized world of friendships and contacts. Lunch is nice.

(The funny "take-away" from today? Evidently Kansas is to Kentuckians as Kentucky is to Northern Californians - oh those poor backward people. I don't think I want to live in Kansas!)

Infestation revisited

Here's a quote from "infestation" research:

Measuring almost two inches long, sporting yellow markings across a robust body and patrolling the ground with red wings and yellow legs, cicada killer wasps look intimidating. Although they look fierce and threatening, they’re more buzz than bite.

I say "hooray" to that! The "book club ladies" suggest that the noises in my woods are cicadas after all and that the big things that I see skulking around are Cicada Killing Wasps. Who knew?

Does any of this make me feel any better about What Is Happening in my woods? Not really.

For an even more gruesome reference, see: http://home.att.net/~larvalbugbio/wasps.html

A "computer" joke

OK, I'm not generally one for jokes - and almost never actually remember them - but this one I liked and wanted to keep - so it becomes a "post" here:


In a Spanish class the discussion concerned the 'gender' of nouns - la casa (f) or el nino (m) for example. Someone wondered what gender a computer was, leading to the following:

The women in the class concluded that computers are 'masculine' because:
1. In order to get their attention, you have to turn them on.
2. They have a lot of data but are still clueless.
3. They are supposed to help you solve your problems, but half the time they ARE the problem.
4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that, if you had waited a little longer, you could have had a better model.

The men, on the other hand, decided that computers are 'feminine' because:
1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic.
2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else.
3. Even your smallest mistakes are stored in long-term memory for later retrieval.
4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it.

Infestation

We have a forest at the back of our lot that is actually OUR forest, but seems to be occupied by enormous bugs of some sort. Having said that I am already wondering if the area qualifies as a "forest" around here or would better be described as a "woods" or even "wooded area" and if, in fact, those are giant bugs we hear or some other denizen of the deeps.

Their chatter is so fierce, though it waxes and wanes with the breeze and the temperature, that we are loathe to go too near the edge of the woods, for fear of being carried off. What could be in there?

We read about the cicadas last year, but didn't see quite the infestation we'd been led to expect. But this year the June bugs are so thick that they produce a rat-a-tat-tat sort of rhythm as they hit the windshield when we drive. There has been a huge butterfly sort of thing waving its wings at my window all day, and we have certainly shooed wasps off the house and deck. But do these things make that much noise? COULD they? Maybe, instead, we are hearing "tree frogs." IS there such a thing as a tree frog?

What really worries us is that anything that is in our woods in sufficient concentration to make that much noise must be eating something. Our trees, for instance. Will we wake up one morning to find the whole thing denuded?

Before all this heat and drought and noisy bug business, our woods was a cool, sweet smelling place to sit and watch fireflies. We put two Adirondack chairs at the edge and spent some nice evenings sitting there. I miss that. I really don't like summer. I really don't like bugs.

We have an infestation - of undefined or indeterminate proportions. I'm staying inside.

Cats

Our little Maddie has rediscovered a spinning cat toy that she somehow lost track of over the past few months. It is providing seemingly endless recreation as she creeps up on it, spins the ball in its track, pounces on top of the movement and then finally teases it with her paw to get it to move again. She recognizes the noise it makes, so if you walk by it and set it spinning she will come running from wherever she is in the house - every time. What an idiot. What a wonderful, silly, funny, lovable idiot.

Frik, on the other hand, is obviously too sophisticated for such pursuits. He prefers to play 'string' which requires a human participant, no doubt an affirmation for him that he has "staff" at his beck and call. He stretches out on the desk beside me while I write, flicking his tail periodically as a reminder that he could walk across the keyboard at any point and delete any comment he finds disappointing or misrepresentative. He knows I am writing about him.

A world without cats would be a mean and meager world indeed. Cats are so incredibly, improbably warm and soft; their bodies yield to your contours when you pick them up. If they are the Right Sort of cat (not the 'sharp' kind) they will curl into you and ride along wherever you take them, perfectly confident that wherever they end up, in whatever position or state, they will be sure of the affirmative answer to their most consistent question, "Don't I look nice here?" Who can resist the self-assurance? That all is right with THEIR world surely means your world is in pretty good shape too.

Besides, they purr. You can't top that.

Dogs, with their silly grins and aim-to-please attitudes are ridiculous by comparison. (Not that 'ridiculous' doesn't have its place in the world...) Cats, in my mind, are the top of the heap. Even Terry Pratchett's "Discworld" character 'Death' finds his mood improving when there are cats around.

So I'm going to try to stop thinking of myself as a recluse. I live in the company of cats. That's as good as it gets.

Saving turtles and contemplating decisions

Yesterday we saved a turtle. Or at least we hope so. He was obviously contemplating crossing the road, and certainly would have been at risk if he had tried. So maybe "saved" is a little too strong a term, but we'd like to think that's what we did. Last weekend we saw another turtle starting to cross a busy road and were in no position to stop, but as we swerved by him we saw him lift his front foot up to his head, as if to ward off the danger he obviously sensed. That little all-too-human gesture has haunted us all week, since we don't know if he made it. There were cars behind us as well, and his defensive maneuver was inadequate at best in the face of that much traffic. So we were glad to stop, this time, to save this new turtle in danger.

Just a few weeks ago we saved another turtle who was somehow, and improbably, on top of a stone wall at a highway overview, baking in the sun. We couldn't imagine that he'd gotten there intentionally, but could only too easily imagine what might happen to him when he tried to get down. So we set him down in the grass behind the wall, hoping he'd go safely on his way.

What's with all this turtle saving?

Many are those who have made ill-fated decisions regarding road-crossings, and worse. I've made my own share of bad choices, and more often than I'd like to admit I've just managed to 'get across the road' without getting hit. There haven't been "turtle-savers" around at those times. I pretty much know that consequences are mine to face. Nevertheless, I have reason to believe, based on past experience, that when I venture out in the world, things will be OK. Why? Because I don't expect that someone will, or should, save me. It is really up to me to make the best choices and then run the course as best I can to make sure they turn out to be successes.

Much like those turtles crossing the roads. They aren't counting on someone to come along and swoop them out of harm's way. They start out, fully expecting to get where they are going, under their own steam, in their own time. That their journey took an unexpected leap doesn't change their intentions or goals or efforts at all. When we set them back down, they continue on their way. They simply benefited from some unlikely but happy chance (even if they probably don't realize it!)

I'd sure like to win the lottery some day. Maybe saving turtles is my way of keeping that fantasy fresh.

Mark would, of course, tell me that I have to actually buy a ticket.

In the meantime, I'll keep making decisions and crossing roads.

So, how sincere does it have to be?

Mark was never a fan of the Peanuts cartoon, but now that he's so dedicated to the pumpkins he is trying to grow, one wonders if 'sincerity' is important after all. We certainly are expecting great results, fond as we are of Halloween pumpkin carving.

It's as good as any other summer distraction, as we plod our way toward fall and time when we might be able to hike again. It is SO hot!

Will it ever rain again?

I understand places where it just doesn't rain - they are mostly brown with interestingly adapted flora and fauna. What I don't understand is places with a whole lot of green stuff and no rain. My "green stuff" is turning brown.

We are having a drought here in Central Kentucky and every time a storm seems to be near, as one is now, I get my hopes up. I hear thunder and see big lightening streaks. The wind is howling... all very promising. But it seems to be blowing right on by. Some Other Place always gets it - not us and our pumpkin patch and our knockout roses and acre of brown grass. I won't get a chance to bounce around on my John Deere tractor/mower again any time soon.

I'm so disappointed.

Trepidation

"One shouldn't have to feel trepidation about car repairs" my husband announced on the way back from dropping our car off at the shop. Why not? The car needs work because the last guy who worked on it screwed it up. Is there honesty in the country today? We sure get worked up about foreign terrorists, but how much more damage are everyday Americans doing to each other through crooked business deals, insurance fraud, frivolous lawsuits and outright theft?

I read in the news today that some woman had run off with $4000+ in Girl Scout Cookie money and left the rest of her daughter's troop without funds for a planned camp visit. My local newspaer is full of reports of people knocking off Grandpa during his night shift at the convenience store so that they could steal a few hundred bucks. (Their OWN Grandpa, mind you - not even a stranger. More convenient if you know the person I guess.) Another kid evidently stabbed himself in the chest so he could claim that 'robbers' got the money he actually stole himself from the movie theater he managed. A woman I used to work with had her house broken into and her jewelry stolen when she was in the hospital recovering from surgery. She found out later that it was her daughter's boyfriend - he knew the house would be empty.

My father used to lecture us on the 'slippery slope' theory of moral degeneration. He'd rub his finger back and forth on the dining room table and say that while he wasn't making much of an impression on the table at the moment, if he kept it up he'd eventually wear a hole in it. Once we started hearing the word "damn" in everyday speech, we weren't too far from not flinching at "f***." Once we got over our initial disbelief over the McDonald's "coffee burn" lawsuit years ago, we weren't surprised that they were being sued for making someone too fat. After Enron, who can be surprised anymore at anything a big corporation does to put investor's money into individual pockets?

We aren't even outraged any more. We expect to be ripped off and just hope it won't be by too much.

Morality is, to some extent, an individual thing. I'm old enough to know that there are possible gray areas and differing, legitimate, opinions about what constitutes a wrong. But most of the time it is pretty clear, and we are all paying, dearly, for the slippery slope.

I just hope the car gets fixed and I can afford to "ransom" it back.

hillbillies?

I've recently moved from the west coast - Oregon and California - to Kentucky, and am suffering culture shock. Part of that is just the local speech patterns and accents, for even though I know I'm still in America, I can't understand a word most people are saying to me. But more than that, it's the differences in the people themselves - more "helpful" and more willing to impinge on a stranger somehow. The customs are a little different too.

Grocery shopping, for example: I always seem to acquire an "assistant shopper," someone who just can't resist telling me that "them thar is cheaper" or "if you buy 48 of them you'll save $0.32." (How do they know?) There is a whole freezer section in that grocery store devoted to Tater Tots. I've never known anyone who even eats Tater Tots. You don't find that in Northern California. There are more varieties of Little Debbie cakes than I've ever seen before.

The local barbecue place serves a little dish of cole slaw before they bring your main dinner plate - as a pre-dinner salad. Maybe that's not odd... I've just never seen it before. They also offer you "drinks to go" when you are ready to leave. And don't seem to recognize, somehow, that "sweet tea" - a southern favorite - is really sweetened iced tea. When we went to a ballgame (local minor league), we talked all night to the guy sitting in front of us (which also never would have happened in CA.) Almost no one gives you the finger in traffic (asserting that you are still number one...) And I actually know - and like - all my neighbors!

When I first got here, someone told me that people here are either rednecks or hillbillies. I can't remember the distinction now, but I do know she said hillbillies are the ones who say "It don't matter" when faced with anything from a broken dish to an insurmountable challenge. I wonder if it really doesn't?

Maybe it is the "rednecks" who care that I buy the brand name products and pay a few cents more. (It must be ALL of them that eat Tater Tots though!) Maybe it's a pretty nice place after all.

Beginning Blogging

OK - how do we start? As a "50-something" I don't take to the high tech stuff as easily as some but I don't do too bad. I am wondering if blogging is going to be my medium - and am pretty hyped on giving it a try. So here is a start!

But where to go with it? If I get personal will I be sorry?

I suspect this is going to be about what to do with a mid-life "stall" - I've had a good career, moved about quite a bit, married a man with a more aggressive career than mine and now find myself in a new place without a job possibility - and without, really, the necessity of finding one. What should I do? What AM I doing?

I'm reading, exploring, taking pictures, playing with cats, volunteering, cooking... and writing. And now, I suspect, I better be reading about blogging!