What’s next?

I’m feeling a bit disconnected after my little trip and am wandering around wondering, “What’s next?” Of course there is a lot pending but nothing actually ‘next’ and so I am back to being without a plan. Disconcerting, it is. Much is 'up in the air' in our lives right now since Mark is working quickly toward a new direction too.

I'm glad it's Friday though. Glad to have some time to spend with Mark. Glad the weather is changing and that we are having company next week and will have a chance to show off the Bluegrass again. (And the John Deere tractor, of course.)

We've harvested 9 pumpkins already!

Disney fun

Had a great time!

We went on almost all the major rides (avoiding only the 'major' roller coasters) and really got into the spirit of the thing. Pooh was there, and Peter Pan and Buzz Lightyear, and there was a parade (but no shade - except our own umbrellas which we put to good use!) and flowers and ice cream and Everything! Two little kids helped us with the 'scary parts' of Big Thunder Mountain, and two lovely young Japanese women whiled away the time in conversation with us in the Pooh ride line. The Haunted Mansion and the Pirates, and even the Jungle Cruise were exactly as I remembered them being in Anaheim... although we were in Orlando... (are they all the same?)

Anyway, it was a great adventure and now I'm glad to be home.

An Adventure

I'm flying off to Orlando for a few days, meeting a friend to go to Disney World... or something. An adventure, as it were.

Yes, this is an odd thing for me to do. I don't usually do things separate from Mark; I don't especially like to fly anymore; I have to wonder about hurricane season, although maybe that part will be OK. I know, from a friend who lives in Florida, that it will be hot and humid there at this time of the year. I am not likely to stay 'fresh' in such circumstances...

But! It really should be a hoot and I am very much looking forward to it. It is just a quick trip - basically just one full day there. And I've never been there before - so it is something new.

So here's to Adventure.

Hurricanes, Global Warming, Politics and the News

There was a news story on my ‘news home page’ the other day about a weather expert/scientist speaking before a congressional committee about the prediction that hurricanes will occur more frequently over the next 10 years as a part of the Atlantic Ocean weather cycle. He indicated that another such high-incidence period was recorded earlier in the 20th century and that this anticipated cycle is part of normal Atlantic weather. But a congressman still wanted to know if this could be attributable to ‘Global Warming?’ The scientist was quoted as saying no, it was a normal weather pattern.

When I tried to refer Mark to the news story, it was no longer posted to the internet – and had been replaced by a different story about a different weather expert claiming that global warming is likely responsible for the expected increase in hurricane activity.

That was interesting. So was the fact that the first one only appeared to be on the internet for a few hours. Mark has been saying for years that there isn't any 'good' science to back up the Global Warming scare. And a year or so ago, I read Michael Crichton’s book, ‘State of Fear,’ asserting that global warming is a political myth designed to create ‘fear’ – a necessary condition for control of the masses. The book debunks ‘climate science’ as having been created with computer models rather than any real facts, and insists that most legitimate scientists have abandoned the theory. It persists because of government funding for research to make SURE that it persists.

I hate conspiracy theories. Especially when I start to wonder about them!

Craft Fair

We didn’t actually go to any of the appealing festivals happening this weekend, although they were tempting. But the temptation we did succumb to was another craft fair, where they had irresistible Halloween things. What can I say? It was the wart on her nose that did it.

Festivals

The Sixteenth Annual World Chicken Festival is happening in “beautiful downtown London” Kentucky this weekend. (That was a direct quote from their website; somewhat reminiscent of the claim that the 60’s TV show, “Laugh In” was broadcast from ‘beautiful downtown Burbank’ – remember?) Evidently this is a "filled with 'egg-citement' event." I won’t go into details, but the world’s largest stainless steel skillet is involved.

Marion County is having its annual “Country Ham Days” this weekend as well. They also have a website and claim that it will be an “Oinkalicious experience.”

On the other hand, Georgetown, KY is having a “Festival of the Horse” which is simply billed as a festival that “celebrates the tradition of the horse in central Kentucky, including agricultural, tourism, racing and breeding within the horse industry.”

I think Georgetown needs a marketing director. Or a sense of humor.

Philosophy

A comment made at my book club meeting the other day is haunting me. The person suggested that corporate corruption and greediness, the Tyco and Enron kind, is the legacy of Ayn Rand. To think that Randian philosophy means “What is good for me is what I’ll grab, and to hell with the rest of you” is a bizarre notion to me. I wish there had been time to ask her to elaborate. I think she’s missed the point.

In a true “Randian” business world the corporation pays its workers the highest salaries, values and preserves natural resources, engages in honest reporting to shareholders, produces the most reliable, safest and most desirable product or service – all because those practices are the best way to ensure long-term success. 'Profit' isn't evil. Instead, it is the very thing that keeps the business world 'moral.' In the personal world, the actions and their results are the same. True self-interest isn't evil - it keeps us moral and right.

I’ve had discussions with people for years over the morality of “other-serving” vs. “self-serving,” usually with these people telling me that 'serving others' is morally superior. And I agree that it is 'good' but then they insist on the opposite notion as well – that anything “self-serving” is inherently evil. That's the part I have trouble with. Benefit others – Good. Benefit self – Bad? Serving others 'selflessly' is what I don't accept as more moral.

What I got from Ayn Rand's writings was that valuing and serving yourself is the only way you can be a decent person. Yes, a decent person, in the traditional “American values” sense. (And no, I don't see the religious conflict there, although I suspect others might.) If you truly do things in your own best interest, then the interests of others will be equally served - with no danger of disrespect for the 'other.' This is the critical issue. The underpinnings for this position are simply that self-respect and respect for others are absolutely coupled; to value yourself is a necessary precondition for valuing others. If you respect yourself and therefore act in your own interest you will never hurt another; you won’t pollute, cheat, steal, insult, or commit offense against others. In mutual respect, you each, in turn, succeed, because you are on the same plane. If you are unable to see the ultimate value of “Me” then you have no hope of understanding the value of “You.”

What of the person who believes he must put others above himself? That nobility is in serving others while sacrificing self? What of those who think the communist mantra “to each according to his ability, from each according to his need” is an ideal to be admired, while believing that people are, unfortunately, incapable of achieving that “ideal?”

Me – Unworthy. You – Worthy? We all seem to agree that the principle doesn’t work in practice. But they think it doesn’t work because people are inherently evil. I think (and Rand does too) that it is because the principle itself is evil. It is the principle, not our “evil nature” that leads us to the superior-inferior, saver-victim, helper-helpless, pitying-pitiful attitudes that always seem to result from the 'selfless serving of others.' How can respect – how can decency – survive at all when the principle assumes that someone is unworthy?

Yes, we should volunteer our time; donate to charity; help others so that they can help themselves. But we can't pretend that we are not serving and honoring ourselves first in doing so. As long as we understand and believe that, we don't – can’t – indulge ourselves with thoughts of our own superiority over those we are helping.

And just think what we accomplish when we believe in ourselves.

Being careful in cyberspace

I did something stupid a few weeks ago. I replied to an email request for an update of my credit card information from a company with which I subscribe for computer virus protection. Maybe it was even a legitimate request. But I shouldn’t have done it and now I will worry forever to see if I really screwed up. Was it really from McAfee or was it a scam?

I am normally very cautious about this stuff. I don’t know what I was thinking. I regretted it as soon as I hit the ‘send’ button.

A few days ago my cable/internet provider company sent an email saying they had been informed that someone was sending a similar message, posing as their legitimate business, ‘phishing’ for credit card information too. They were warning people not to respond and assuring their customers that they would never send such a message.

I’m doomed.

I already was notified by ChoicePoint that I was one of the customers ‘compromised’ last fall in their data theft. Now this.

So yesterday, one of our credit cards was ‘denied’ at the gas station. I thought for sure this was the sign that the number had been stolen. I called the credit card company frantically as soon as I got home, and – after countless aggravating attempts to get to a real person to talk to – found that there was no ‘caution’ attached to the account at all. They had received the most recent payment, all was clear on the account… nothing wrong at all. Hmmmmm. They thought maybe it was just a glitch in the processing system.

Not very inspiring. I’m still worried.

100!

This is the 100th posting to my blog. Imagine that. “Who’d a thunk it?” One hundred is a good number. So is 42 (comments) and 750 (or so, ‘hits’ to read the blog, never mind that probably 150 of those hits are me, futzing with a posting… and I only started the counter several weeks into it.)

Has there been a point? No. Well, maybe just to see if I could sustain a writing habit. Or to see what style or preference would emerge. Or to pass the time agreeably. Or connect with people. Or, even, work out some of my frustrations. It has taken up an enormous amount of time – time that I had on my hands anyway. I'm obsessed.

I'm going for 200.

Can't help myself... oh dear

So I simply can't resist including the pumpkin pictures in the blog. What can I say? Every 'Friday' inspection reveals new ones or bigger ones or oranger ones. None of them are very big - but they're ours! (Aren't you glad I stopped with the spider pictures at least?)

Southern Belles

The heat and humidity are back in Central Kentucky. When you get out of the shower, even the slight exertion required to dry yourself with a towel means that you need another shower. I have fans running and the A/C as low as I can afford to keep it…

I was told that Southern Belles don’t sweat, they “glow.”

In the privacy of their gracious southern homes, doing their housework, perhaps, I can’t help but wonder how many of them are “glowing” in just their underwear. Oh, those Southern Belles.

Another “Enterprising” experience

Thinking about the yard sale reminded me of another ‘selling’ experience – this one that Todd had, also in Alaska. Is it OK that I tell another old story on my blog?

One of Wrangell Alaska’s claims to fame is the garnet ledge on the mainland just across the tide flats from the island. It was mined commercially in the early years and eventually willed to the Boy Scouts for use by Wrangell’s children, any of whom can get a permit and go over to collect garnets. It is a great trip – a lot of work to knock the garnet-filled rocks out of the ledge, a long day because it has to be done on the high tides – but a lot of fun.

Wrangell children collect the garnets for one reason – to fleece the tourists who come into town on the cruise ships and ferries and buy them. Since the Naturalist/Interpreters on the ferries give a talk about the garnets just before the ferry docks in town, there is often some enthusiasm already generated on board for this souvenir. As soon as the boat is tied up, tourists pour off and flock around the children with their trays of garnets and garnet rocks. It is big business. Todd just HAD to try.

So we mined them, cleaned them up, sorted them by size and quality, commandeered a muffin tin from the kitchen cupboard to display them in and agonized over prices. Finally we were ready to go. A ferry was due, and we had to meet it anyway (relatives coming, I think.) It was late, the weather, as usual, wasn’t very good, but...

He was the only kid there that night. And the Naturalist had given a particularly interesting talk, evidently. Before we knew what was happening, our little guy (around 5 at the time, maybe?) was surrounded by clamoring tourists. He was darling. He had his little baseball cap on and he smiled and peered up at them from around the too-big bill. He talked to people. Told them all about where and how he got the garnets. The ferry was going to leave again quickly and all the tourists wanted their garnets so they were stuffing money in his coat pockets and little hands and rushing back on board. A furious flurry of activity.

Pretty exciting. Very soon they were gone again. The tray was in disarray. So was Todd. At home, he started checking in his coat pockets, under his hat, inside the tray, in his pants… and he kept pulling out more bills and coins…

How much? $87!

Downsizing and Yard Sales

We’ve been talking a lot lately, Mark and I, about ‘downsizing’ our lifestyle. It will have to be done sooner or later; the question is when, not if. And how much, of course. Obviously I’m a collector – of memorabilia, photos, books, art, crafts, all manner of beautiful things. I didn’t set out to be one; it just happened. And now, what will I do with it all? What if the “Airstream trailer” fantasy became a reality?

Since starting the closet-cleaning project, I’ve really had to think about that question! Sell it? Donate it? Throw it away?

I had a ‘yard sale’ some years ago in my small town in Alaska. It was one of the most frightening experiences I’ve ever had. I didn’t know about Yard Sale Ladies. They all knew that I’d never put on a sale – or been to one myself – before. They knew that fresh stuff would be available – stuff that hadn’t already cycled around, countless times, within the usual ‘yard sale’ crowd. So they were ‘hungry’ – oh yes. I had no idea.

A friend had suggested that I put “No Earlybirds” in my ad for the sale. What a silly concept. I just wanted to sell the stuff. I didn’t care when. But evidently the Yard Sale Ladies get quite hostile if you give someone else a chance to ‘hi-grade’ your stuff. And then another friend said I would need to ‘rope off’ the yard (literally) to actually prevent those pesky Earlybirds from getting in among the stuff anyway before the appointed hour. I thought I’d be lucky to have someone wander by, from time to time, during the day – little did I realize that a crowd would form a half hour in advance! But one did.

And when we took down the boundary rope, in they poured. Chattering. Pawing through my carefully placed stacks of things. A cartoonist would be needed to really get the picture across.

Shudder.

I don’t think I could do it again.

Haircut

I actually got a good haircut the other day – just like a real person. I’ve been going to the cheap/quick places for over a year now, while we’ve been in ‘transition.’ Just haven’t had the energy or the interest in finding an actual Hairdresser. Or Cosmetologist. Anyway, the cuts just kept getting worse and worse. Like there just wasn’t a ‘line’ to follow any more. The last haircut I got was in a place where everyone but MY hairdresser looked like Mamie Eisenhower – why was I surprised when I came out looking like Mamie Eisenhower? Not that that wasn’t a good look for her… back in the 50s…

So in this place, “Kathe” actually looked at my hair first, to see what might work best. She shampooed it for at least 10 minutes with careful massaging finger action on my scalp besides – all the while I was sitting in a ‘massaging’ leather chair! I was there over an hour and actually came out looking like me!

I’ve had my share of odd beauty parlor experiences. I used to go to my neighbor’s shop in Alaska and we’d get to chatting and she’d be cutting and we’d be chatting… and cutting… And when she was getting her divorce and had an extra lot to say, well, it wasn’t pretty. I don’t look very good in very short hair.

In California, ‘Amelia’ was very confident about her hair color processes and thought she could use a different product than I wanted, and get the same results. Ha! I never came out with the same hair color I had going in. And the colors were lovely. Just not what might actually occur in nature. When I finally decided to just let it go gray, she insisted we had to do blond streaks first. That was an interesting look. I was so distressed that I immediately ran off to Macy’s cosmetic counter for advice on make-up for a blond – and came home with $250 in cosmetics besides.

My darling Mark just smiled and said it looked great… just great.

Todd on the mountain

I received an email, with picture attached, from my son (light of my life, who is studying for his Master's degree in Materials Engineering in Colorado) with the following message:

"The top of Quandary: here it is, where I nearly met my demise. Not really, but quite difficult."

"Demise?" Great. Just what I want to know. But actually I DO want to know - rather know than not, I think!

I had a friend in Alaska with 2 sons about 6 and 8 years older than mine. She was delighted when they went off to college and she no longer had to hear of their every day exploits. For me, that's precisely when the 'downhill' began - when HER sons went off to college and MINE was no longer convinced that mothers always went along with their sons to college.

And, of course, he did go off without me. To great success. Even without his mother to help him with his laundry.

Anyway, here he is (in the long pants) on top of one of Colorado's "14ers."

A Birthday Remembrance

Today is my father’s birthday. I won’t use the past tense for that, even though he isn’t alive to celebrate it. I think of him today as I have always thought of him – vibrant, funny, and loving; fascinated with nearly everything; passionate about life; a little “surprising” in his eccentricities on occasion; always ready with an opinion about nearly anything – welcome and requested mostly, but sometimes not. Bushy eyebrows, easy smile, twinkly eyes. For me, he is simply still there.

I certainly know all his opinions by now anyway. And they are great opinions. I even agree with many of them. And the older I get, the more that is true – just a little scary! I know his jokes and most of his ‘stories.’

When he became ill, friends told me that the important thing was to make sure we all had an opportunity to say what we wanted to say to him. As we went through that time I came to think that advice was wrong. I thought the more important thing was that he be able to say what HE wanted to say. But that forced me to wonder, over the past two years, if he had the time, or the peace of mind, or the energy to do that – which has been an upsetting speculation. His illness came on too suddenly, and was too difficult to manage in all its medications and complications. It took him, and us, so much by surprise, that we were never really able to adjust to it. And we certainly didn’t want to say good-bye.

But now…

Now I think neither ‘us saying to him,’ or ‘him saying to us’ really counted at all, at that point. He had 79 years to both talk and listen, and he did both, in abundance. I am doing him a disservice to focus on his last 6 months – and I am resolved to stop doing that. That wasn’t the ‘key’ time in his life. That part has no right to overshadow the rest. It isn’t the end that matters. It is the “being.”

I have to believe that he’s satisfied with it all. He earned the deep love and respect of many; he possessed both intellect and integrity; his life was full and varied and imaginative. Perhaps he wasn’t a saint – I’m not even sure he’d have wanted to be! But he sure was an interesting man. He had his share of disappointments and made a few mistakes, probably. He achieved tremendous successes, certainly. He enjoyed himself. And we should continue to celebrate that.

Happy Birthday, Daddy.

Misunderstanding Literature

I just finished "Reading Lolita in Tehran" by Azar Nafisi, an Iranian woman who was a professor of Western Literature in Iran after the Shah was overthrown and the Ayatollah Khomeini was re-fashioning the country into his own “Islamic” vision. Through discussion of the works of Nabokov, Fitzgerald, James, Austen and others, she talks about the impact of the “morality police” on her society.

It was a tough read for me. Since this was a book club assignment, I was reading it to prepare for a discussion – so I ended up with a lot of markings in my book. I’m not used to reading this sort of thing – non-fiction and “academic” besides. It took me back to literature courses (both my own and Todd’s) and my frustration with trying to find the ‘right’ hidden meaning. I didn't understand.

“What is the author trying to say here?” I never really knew.

But this book is full of the most remarkable revelations about literature and life. I went back at the end to look at some of the many the passages I highlighted:

Regarding “Lolita:” “Humbert, like most dictators, was interested only in his own vision of other people.” He was a villain “because he lacked curiosity about other people and their lives.” “All oppressors have a long list of grievances against their victims.” “Humbert exonerates himself by implicating his victim.”

“Dreams… are perfect ideals, complete in themselves. How can you impose them on a constantly changing, imperfect, incomplete reality? You would become a Humbert, destroying the object of your dream; or a Gatsby, destroying yourself.”

Relating “Gatsby” to Iran: “He wanted to fulfill his dream by repeating the past, and in the end he discovered that the past was dead, the present a sham, and there was no future. Was this not similar to our revolution, which had come in the name of our collective past and had wrecked our lives in the name of a dream?”

Nietzsche: “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.”

Or, finally, regarding James’s unhappy characters: “It is because these characters depend to such a high degree on their own sense of integrity that for them, victory has nothing to do with happiness. It has more to do with a settling within oneself, a movement inward that makes them whole. Their reward is not happiness… What James’s characters gain is self-respect.”

So this is my own conclusion: Education is largely wasted on the young. How much more I could have learned – and how much more I would have done in life as a result – if I’d been educated in my 40s and 50s instead of my teens and 20s.

And also: There is really nothing to "misunderstand" about literature. Except perhaps to think there is only one way to understand.

Show and Tell

We used to do fun things in Elementary School. Maybe we didn’t learn what we were supposed to – that’s a debate for another time – but we made flowery hats, put on classroom productions of Cinderella, learned to square dance. We did things that made us want to come back. Is Education today measuring up? We had show and tell.

It wasn’t my own best ‘event,’ mind you. I have the impression, now, that I was a shy child – who knows whether that was actually the case – but I know I never liked ‘show and tell’ or any other occasion where I had to be in front of people doing extemporaneous speech. Horrors! Others liked it though, not that they actually said anything themselves, focusing rather more on the ‘show’ part than the ‘tell’, it seems to me. We got to see a wide range of ‘found’ objects – driftwood, rocks that were shaped like Nevada, souvenirs from family vacations – but the explanations of origin or relevance were somewhat lacking.

When my own son was in kindergarten he wanted desperately to bring in the family dog for ‘show and tell.’ Our Irish Setter, Cinnamon, was pretty old and gray by that time and I figured the experience wouldn’t be too traumatic for either of them. So one day, teacher permission obtained, Cinnamon was loaded up with the lunchbox and trucked off to school. She was very polite. She lay on the rug and showed her profile off to its best advantage. She didn’t drool. She let everyone pet her. Todd beamed. He got to hold her leash.

He didn’t say a word.

Oh well. I have a picture of them. You can’t really tell, from the picture, that it was a silent show. But you can see he had a good time.

You ought to be able to have a good time in elementary school. Once in a while at least.

For emphasis, here is my own ‘show and tell’ for the day:


It’s Maddie. She is a ‘mutant’ with too many toes. Seven on each front foot. I have this to say about her:

“……………………….”

That's it.

Shiver me timbers

Yo ho ho!

Just a quick reminder that today is International ‘Talk Like a Pirate Day' - wouldn't want anyone to miss it...

It doesn't help that every time I try to say it, it comes out ‘Talk Like a Parrot Day,’ not that parrots can't feature prominently in Pirate Day, but somehow it just dilutes the thing.

Arghhh.

The paw-paw patch

We hiked this morning - way down yonder in the paw-paw patch, according to the sign by the trail. The goldenrod has suddenly burst into bloom and is just amazing. And the funny green thing is an osage orange fruit - about 6 inches in diameter. (If you click on it, you can see a bigger picture.)

Whacked

When we lived in Oregon our neighborhood was near some major shopping/eating areas and we often walked to the store or to a restaurant for lunch or dinner. On one walk we decided to stop in to a new A&W Root Beer place to get a root beer float - something neither of us had tried in years. Unfortunately, when we got in to the store, the two earring-ed and tatooed teens working there were unable to get us what we wanted. "The machine is whacked," they explained.

"Whacked?"

That simple explanation seemed to cover it all. Sort of a "Beavis and Butthead" kind of thing. They didn't know what was wrong, had no hope of changing anything, probably didn't really care, were unlikely to have reported it to anyone who DID care. Nothing they could do about it. Too bad. It's whacked.

For us - unhandy that we are at gadget repair and general fix-it stuff - that has become our mantra for the unworkable and inexplicable in our lives. If we both have something and one is not working: "Mine's whacked." If I make a desperate cry for help when a shelf falls down, for example, Mark will come running, stop short to apraise the situation and simply declare "It's whacked."

So - and I do have a point here - remember that I have a spider in my window that is like the spider in Mark's window? We noticed yesterday that she is missing one back leg. Well, I looked at her this morning and she's just hanging in a rather scrunched position, in her web. Mark came in to look too.

"She's whacked."

Apples and applesauce

We conquered the 2 bushels of apples! There are now thirty-one 3-cup freezer containers of homemade applesauce in my freezer, along with three others in the refrigerator that won’t fit. I’m going to have to foist some of the excess off on unsuspecting neighbors I guess.

But it feels good to ‘provision for the winter’ that way. At least we got a kick out of it. And that’s all that counts.

Inheritance (Stuff, revisited)

My sister and I are blaming our ‘stuff-keeping’ behavior on our maternal grandmother. She was the original Environmentalist and always reused, repurposed, recycled, or restored what she had rather than get rid of it. (Not that, in our case, we are actually using all this stuff that we have – we seem to just keep it all tucked away somewhere. Not quite the spirit of the thing, but there you have it.) My husband claims to have had a grandmother just like mine. It’s possible. They would have come into their own, so to speak, during the Great Depression. Since my sister and I have no such excuse, we are just claiming to have patterned after them. It’s our Inheritance.

I don’t think Grandma’s house was cluttered though. I suspect she didn’t acquire new stuff at the rate we do these days. But there are certainly things in my house reminiscent of her and her own collection of ‘stuff.’ I always admired her china cabinet filled with pretty things. While the memory of the specifics is probably faulty, the overall impression – crystal salt dishes, miniature tea sets, china cups – sure sticks and I’ve wanted one like it as long as I can remember. So now I do have a china cabinet myself, filled with just those kinds of things. It's getting full though. I can't bear to part with anything in it...

I also keep a glass jar for pretzels on my kitchen counter in her honor - since that was her habit too. (And so that I can eat pretzels more readily, of course…) And I have her berry bucket – which I used to pick blueberries during all those years in Alaska. That is stuff that I’ll never part with, no matter how cluttered things get.

Instead of ‘stuff-keeping,’ I’d have liked to inherit her kindness, her humor, her quick and sharp intellect, her patience and her charity. I know my mother got those ‘genes’ in abundance – along with the 'collecting stuff' one of course. Maybe it was a 'clustered inheritance' and there is hope for the other qualities too.

Certainly the jury’s still out on the rest of the ‘cluster’ for now. If we're eventually remembered for those things, we’ll credit them to Grandma. But I'm afraid that today, at least, we are just blaming her for our Excess Stuff.

That’s our story, and we’re sticking to it.

Yikes!

It's deja vous all over again (as Mark says.)

I seem to have acquired my own spider - just as big as the one outside Mark's office - only this one just dropped in outside my own office window. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I'm actually a bit squeamish about spiders ever since my mother stepped on one in a long ago kitchen and it exploded into seemingly hundreds of little baby spiders that ran everywhere.

But there she is, busy as can be, building a new web. There's no stopping the little buggers, is there?


(And for the weekly pumpkin update: We've picked one orange one and two white ones. Three other big ones are starting to get orange. And more are coming! Very satisfying. See the little white one in the back here?)

How liberating!

I’m still thinking about the Reality TV thing (see "Busted", below) and wondering, “How low do I go?” What other depravity could I be involved in, all the while deluding myself about my participation? Time to fess up!

I’m certainly guilty of gossip; we know that already (my neighbor and the Kentucky government hiring scandal) and petty peevishness (the grocery store customer) and hoarding (as in Stuff.) I’ve done some pretty serious time on embarrassing and pointless internet searches - not to mention getting hung up on jigsaw puzzles. And I’m a skeptic; and overly focused on aging, evidently (and food, of course, but I’ve acknowledged that before.) And while I haven’t mentioned this yet, I have to admit to having gone so far overboard on the closet cleaning project that I changed out all the plastic hangers so that my closet has all black ones and my husband’s has all white ones. What will be next? Color coding the spices? And goodness knows it's way past time to admit to a ‘pumpkin patch’ obsession.

Ah, confession is good for the soul. And laughing at yourself is even better. And when you are doing it ‘publicly’ – well, quite liberating!

As my mother would say, “This plan is shaping up nicely!”

All’s quiet on the back 40

Remember the mid-summer infestation in the woods behind my house? I think it has passed. I am more likely, just now, to hear traffic from the Interstate a mile or so away than I am the furious buzz of unknown insects, out here in the country. I no longer see those big wasps flying at my window. All that has passed. Not that there won’t be Something Different to come. Last year, when winter arrived, so did the ladybugs, in the thousands, seeking warm comfort for the winter in my eaves, rafters and ceilings. I expect I’ll see them again. There is, after all, that whole life cycle thing about ‘nature’ that is inescapable.

But life has always seemed more linear to me – mostly because I’m not fond of repetition and so don’t structure my life in such a way that I’d have to do the same things in the same pattern over and over. While not being adventurous in the usual sense, I am, nevertheless always looking for a way to avoid the routine and mundane. I seldom circle back to a previous position. That’s probably why I am so at odds with being ‘Cathy, without a plan.’

The plan could, of course, be to watch for the ladybugs and then the snow flurries until spring flowers and next summer’s infestation taking flight once again. But I don’t even want to think that way.

Busted!

A while back I ranted and raved about the stupidity of Reality TV and claimed I’d never watched it. I have an embarrassing confession to make – I have! Good grief.

My brother just pointed that out to me. He reminded me that I used to watch – and actually enjoy! – The Osbournes. My husband is a long time fan of rock and roll and started telling old Ozzy stories when we heard it was going to be on, and then it was just irresistible. There was the dog pooping all over the place and Ozzy being befuddled and the whole comparison to that other Ozzy who, along with Harriet and Dave and Ricky did that other sort of pretend reality show in the 50s.

Still. I should be more careful with my claims. Thanks for keeping me honest, Carl! Gee, with my record broken, maybe I should try some more of them. (I probably already have and don't remember!)

Stuff

I have a lot of stuff. We’re talking major league here – collected over a lot of years and schlepped from one house to another across more miles than I care to count up. I have stuff, I’m sure, that I don’t actually know I have, still packed in boxes that have the label of a moving company I used back in 1981.

So I’ve been cleaning closets – determined to rid myself of some of this stuff. I ran across a grass mat that I bought in Hawaii in 1983 for $1 to use on the beach. That's sure been worth hauling around from Alaska to Oregon to California to Kentucky. I have single gloves that must, by now, have historical significance, or something. Since I used to be a quilter, I have stacks and stacks of fabric scraps that never did go together – I just bought them because they were calico and on sale I guess. And they’ve moved with me ever since.

And I’m not just keeping my own stuff. I have drawers and boxes and shelves stuffed with my son’s stuff too. Stuff that I know he’ll throw right away if threatened the return of – things like the “Road to the Final Four” t-shirt from 1997 and a Chicago Cubs jersey with Sammy Sosa’s name on it. Well, maybe he’d keep those, but I bet he’d toss his “honor student” t-shirts from high school and the prom glasses I’ve carefully stored. And while I don’t know that he has any particular interest in his baby clothes, books, stuffed animals, toys and crib, I can’t bear to part with them myself. Don’t even get me started on the baseball card collection. Or the Legos!

Does anyone else ever throw old purses away? Not me. Or old keys. Or jackets, or knit tops or cooking utensils.

I'm lucky to have had houses with attics and basements and crawl spaces and all kinds of “collector-enabler” room, over the years. I can't stand clutter, but when I can hide it away... it seems to just stay. This house has huge closets and an unfinished basement that one of my friends threatens to use as a skating rink, so there is still plenty of room in spite of it all. While we’ve moved around a bit (an opportunity that most people would take to cull the excess) our moves have always been through 'corporate relocation services' and they just send professionals in to pack and carry without regard to value – even the trash comes along. I never have enough advance notice to do something about it.

So stuff has collected. Well, now I have the time. No more excuses. Onward! I'll beat this stuff down yet.

Internet Wonders

Mark was what you would have to call an “early adopter” of the World Wide Web. And even 10 years ago he was telling me that I could find anything I might want to know about – any information at all – on the internet. I couldn’t imagine how. Wouldn’t someone have to take the time to put it there in the first place? And why would they do that? Talk about time consuming! I thought it was one of those things where you thought everything was there because so much was there that you’d stopped looking elsewhere. (Did that make sense?)

I’ve become a believer though.

A few months ago we were in a small museum where there was a display of early Kentucky life. On the wall there was a “Grammatical Chart” of unbelievable detail – a convoluted attempt to categorize English grammar in a circular chart in order, presumably, to teach it to poor, unfortunate pioneer children. We’d never seen such a thing before, so I took a picture and started looking, when we got home, for any reference to this amazing thing on the internet. There wasn’t much – this Clark guy was evidently on his own with this idea – but I did find one link, and there it was – the same chart as in my picture.

(this is MY picture – now check out the internet site.)

... and, Internet Wonders II

Yesterday I was trying to find a particular website and mistyped the URL with apalling results! I won't finish that explanation. Suffice it to say that I will be working on my typing from now on.

And that reminded me of an unfortunate Google search I did one time. We used to watch the cooking show “Two Fat Ladies.” It featured a couple of rather large and decidedly middle-aged British ladies who always cooked with “lots of lovely butter.” Maybe others remember their show – one of them drove a motorcycle and the other one rode in the sidecar? Most of what they made didn’t actually sound edible but the show was quite entertaining. And I tried to look it up on the internet once.

Now all my readers probably know – but I’ll elaborate anyway – that an internet search engine looks for combinations of the words you enter – hence Two, Fat, and Ladies are all seen as separate entries, rather than as the one continuous TV show title I was looking for. Websites that include all three words are presented first. That said, you probably know where I’m going with this…

The term ‘ladies’ does have an unfortunate connotation in some circles. Add ‘fat’ to your Google search and you’ve gone in a direction you probably didn’t want to go. And, of course, the addition of ‘two’ brings up a whole new genre. Dear me.

(Don't try this at home.)

"Talk Like a Pirate" Day

Next Monday, September 19, is "Talk Like a Pirate" Day. Argh.

Yep, you’ll be wanting to mark that one down on your calendars. I’m not sure yet how we’ll celebrate but you can bet there will be lots of swash-buckling going on at our house on that day. Oh yeah.

Columnist Dave Barry has gotten involved in promoting this Special Day. He wrote an enlightening column for the Miami Herald about it that you won’t want to miss, providing information on the origins and founders and potential sponsors - all the good stuff that Dave Barry does so well. (Unfortunately you'll have to Google it - Dave Barry Pirate - to find it because a link just puts you to a page to subscribe to the paper - maybe I'm doing something wrong there...)

Anyway, I’m commenting about it now because it would appear that there is absolutely nothing we need to do to prepare for this occassion – and we should all be able to relish that to the fullest. So far, at least, Hallmark seems to have passed up the opportunity for a greeting card. Imagine. An occassion without any decorating, cooking, gift-wrapping, greeting-sending or anything else to do... We'll have to figure out how to celebrate this on our own.

I don't even want to think about it.

Maybe we could just practice saying Argh.

Aging in unexpected ways

I did always know I would 'age' – and when it came, I thought, I’d have aches and pains and sags; hearing loss, bad knees, gray hair and varicose veins… I knew my arms wouldn't be long enough and my feet would end up too far away. The potentials seemed limitless, but they were expected.

What I didn’t expect, in aging, was that I’d not be able to SEE fast enough. I just didn't know I'd need to improve my 'seeing' speed to cope with progress. Forgive me for using the term, but in my day if you drove a car or supervised a toddler, you could obviously see 'fast' things. I had skill sufficient to the task, right? But in today’s world? Um... not so much.

I couldn’t play a video game on a bet – and not because of my reaction time per se, but because I simply don’t see the ‘threats’ pop up or the ‘corners’ come at you or whatever is happening on the screen at such a pace. I can't react to what I can't even perceive!

Just looking at movie previews gives me a headache and makes me close my eyes; so many flashes of scenes in such a short period of time. How can anyone get the gist? They must think someone does.

So my conclusion is that I can't see fast enough any more. Maybe I never could.

I’m already being left behind, in the most unexpected of ways, by old age. And I didn't even see that coming.

Making good use of all those little stories

I know someone who once happily confessed to being a closet Ding-Dong eater. I can’t remember her reasoning just now for wanting to hide that particular vice. Perhaps it was because eating Ding-Dongs offered a poor example for her children – or maybe she just didn’t want to share, though I really doubt that was it. But what I do remember is the sheer hilarity of the conversation. And I don’t know where she eats her Ding-Dongs today but I do know that every time I see a display in a store with that particular ‘toothsome delight’ I have to smile.

My husband – with whom I am hopelessly and madly in love – likes to read in the bathroom. Late one evening, long after it was time to retire for the night, he went into the bathroom just as I was climbing in bed. And he was in there a long time. When I finally called to him that it was getting late, the toilet flushed immediately and he yelled “I am so reading.” (I’m sure the thought crossed his mind briefly that he should say “I am not reading” but I guess he knew such a claim wasn’t going to fly.) His timing, as always, was perfect; his delivery, appropriately pouty and defiant. The surprise assertion, as opposed to the expected denial, was the perfect retort. We’re still laughing about it.

During a visit with my parents some years ago, we were trying to plan a day of sightseeing etc. and, while I don’t remember the details any longer, I do know that, somehow and improbably, cinnamon buns were figuring prominently. My mother, who has never met a cinnamon/icing combination she didn’t like, brightened right up and said “Well, this plan is shaping up nicely!”

How many funny, endearing stories do we collect in a lifetime through the people around us? Since I really like the ‘uncomplicated’ in people – relishing small pleasures, engaging in easy and frivolous conversation, sharing embarrassments and laughing about them, finding simple joy in each other’s company – I know I have thousands of those stories in my own memory.

I’m determined to do a better job of ‘cataloguing’ them so that I can quickly recall and substitute one of them every time I start to dwell on more negative ‘stuff.’ I’m tired of negative stuff. Let’s start a new trend.

The apple festival

I know it looks more like a pumpkin festival, but we went to the Apple Festival at Evans Orchard on Sunday (before getting stuck in computer hell, of course.) We had a little bit of pumpkin-patch-envy but we got over it, and bought 2 bushels of 3 varieties of apples to make applesauce.

We'll be at it all week!

Welcome to computer hell

We spent most of the day today trying to buy a new laptop because mine refused to open up Internet Explorer this morning. Something got hung up and everything went haywire (that’s all technical jargon, I’m sure) and I kept getting a file that wouldn’t run (MSMSGS.exe ??) and all kinds of other mystical problems occurred. Anyway, considering that the fan has been running amok and it takes forever to boot up and it’s 3 years old already, we thought maybe we’d need to just replace it. It doesn’t do me much good if I can’t access the internet, right?

And that’s how we happened into computer hell. Four stores and 6 computer salesmen (and another customer who just latched on to us like we had started a parade) later, we’d had recommendations on every model and make – and dire predictions of ‘dead in the box’ on all of the same as well. They rattled on about processors and upgrades and MBs and ROMs until our eyes were glazed over. Price seemed to be no object. Neither did our current objectives for computer use, even though each salesperson, and even the ‘parade marcher,’ wanted to know the details of our expectations. Once learned however, our current needs became irrelevant as future scenarios were drawn and increasingly outlandish (and expensive) solutions were offered. In one store 2 salesmen gave widely disparate opinions at the same time. We really didn’t even need to be there, ultimately.

And, of course, ultimately we weren’t. We just faded away sometime during the argument. They probably never noticed. The parade marcher came with us and we all wandered into the store next door.

We did finally settle on something – just in sheer frustration, as in a close-your-eyes-and-point-at-one sort of selection process. (Well, truth to tell, Mark’s process was undoubtedly more scientific than that – and he ultimately made the choice.) I groused all the way home about how it was going to cost a fortune in software costs besides, just to load up all the programs I use for various hobbies, and I'd gotten myself into quite a stew by the time we unloaded the car at home.

And then, of course, my old laptop started right up – no problem. Now what? Welcome to computer hell.

I'll be up all night wondering what happened to the parade guy.

Painting and Planning

Yes, I finally got back to the paint project – though not without Further Developments. I thought I could paint around the trim and ceiling without taping them off, which I didn’t want to do because I always have ‘bleeding’ under the tape. But it didn’t take long to see that ‘freehand’ wasn’t going to work. I only relate this part of the story because it meant that I had already started to paint before I realized that I couldn’t get the ladder close to the wall on the toilet side of the little room, meaning that there was no way for me to reach the top part of the wall on that half. Good grief. Remember now, I’d already painted the other half… I thought I was going to have to hire a 7 foot tall painter.

So, I know what you’re going to say. That “Cathy without a plan” should have Planned Ahead! Anticipated. Thought it all out before diving in. And you’re right. I fell down on the job there. I’m embarrassed.

But this blog is all about Plan Development (well, I do stray a bit…) and I am able, as a result of this almost-a-mess project, to add a couple of rules to the mix. Number One is obvious – work out the details of your Plan before you are committed to something that May Not Work! And Number Two, learn your own problem solving process and respect it. Mine seems to be to panic first, call someone for moral support next and then brainstorm solutions after the panic has passed.

Well, maybe panic isn't the right word. Maybe it is more like a compulsion to 'confess' – when I've done something truly stupid and therefore have something to laugh with someone about – than actual panic in these situations.

But the result is the same – share the laugh first, then try to solve the problem.

It's a good strategy. And planning is all about strategy. (Results would be good eventually too, but that's getting ahead of ourselves.)

Mostly I learned that having Remodeling figure prominently in any real Plan is probably not going to work for me. Disappointing, that is. I really thought it might. But clearly I don't have the knack.

Is Fall finally falling?

It is getting just a little cooler here during the day, and the evenings are almost tolerable. Some mornings this week have felt like the promise, at least, of fall weather. I'm excited.

I used to consider summer to be my favorite season - probably a hold-over from those long and lazy school breaks spent reading P.G. Wodehouse or something. But then there's spring... During the years we spent in Oregon and Northern California I got about as excited as anyone could over the bulbs coming up and the wild irises blooming on the trails. I also have to admit to overindulging in the Christmas season, decorating the house (I have an enormous collection of Santas somehow...) and baking cookies by the hundreds. And I've even been known to enjoy 'sweepstakes' season in January. Winter is the time to snuggle in with a good book and eat popcorn - what a pleasant time of year.

So with all the delights of the other seasons, that I should have settled on Fall as my favorite seems odd. There is something about how the air smells. There is the anticipation of the color changes in the trees. And there is Halloween. (I have almost as many Halloween decorations as I do Christmas ones - can't seem to resist them and you find them everywhere.) And here in Kentucky people decorate their front yards with scarecrows and straw bales etc. Quite the thing. Yes, fall is the best.

So I'm excited about the weather change. I hope we can get out a bit more. I'll share pictures if we can! This part of the country is beautiful in the fall.

In the meantime - our pumpkins are starting to get their own fall color! (We sure have had our share of entertainment value out of 4 seed packets!)

Being a skeptic

I have to send an apology out to the cosmos (or something) for thinking negatively last week about the world’s reaction to our natural disaster. Yes, the Muslim radicals did declare that Katrina was God’s wrath on the infidels – though I’m still not clear why the tsunami wasn’t God's wrath on someone else – but we’ve come to expect that; they never disappoint. No, I was thinking that there was a decided lack of statements issued, aid offered, prayers made and sympathy expressed from all the factions that normally weigh in on a country’s misfortune. Maybe it was just that I missed it all in the flurry of news. Last week it looked like no one else cared; like we were on our own to deal with the mess. But now it seems that I was just being a skeptic.

That other countries are actually sending money and doctors, donating oil, and expressing their concerns and best wishes is very heartwarming to me. The music industry has finally gotten on the ‘bandwagon’ with a benefit concert. I don’t know that Hollywood has weighed in yet, although, since they are such absolute authorities on everything I'm sure they'll be sharing their wisdom and political condemnation soon. I don’t remember yet seeing a statement from the Pope, though maybe I just missed that. But Mexico (Mexico!) is sending a convoy of kitchen trucks and medical workers (although the picture of Mexican troops driving into Texas is disturbing, as, frankly, is the dominating presence of our own military taking over a US city – but that’s another thing.) Middle East countries are donating oil, and even tiny, poor countries are sending nominal amounts of money. While Chinese newspapers condemned us (“the looters showed the dark side of American life,”) the Chinese government has, nevertheless, expressed its sympathy to Katrina’s victims, sending the U.S. a $5 million donation plus tents, bedding and electricity generators.

Amazing.

But I reserve some of my sarcasm. The political fight got nasty quickly – just as I’ve come to expect. Jesse Jackson finally showed up to get some press coverage for himself. Nanci Pelosi got nasty and Hilary called for a 'commission.' Geraldo Rivera was in the thick of it, surpassing even his own usual audacity by claiming that he was pleased to see some of the men “I served with in the Gulf” as he met various National Guard groups. So I can still be a little bit of a skeptic, right? We’d be worried if there wasn’t some of that.

Along came a spider

A spider has taken up residence. She is outside Mark’s office window, which is at the second story level, so we can't easily get rid of her (I'd be afraid to, anyway!) I guess she can stay. She seems to be thriving.

I usually only see her toward the end of the day. By then the light is poor and she just looks large and black. But I just had to have a picture, so I got out the camera and took one with the flash - and the extra light revealed a more interesting creature. She’s about 2 inches across and looks hairy. Yikes!

Inconvenience

I had a plan for the day today. I don’t usually have one – which might be obvious to someone reading this blog. But today I did – and a good one. I was going to paint the little 3 x 5 ‘water closet’ room in my master bath. (I didn’t say it was a BIG plan, did I?)

I collected the paint, brush, pail, and ladder, and all the other accoutrements of the job. I laid out the drop cloth, taped off the trim, removed the switch plate. The cats nestled into the plastic on the floor to watch.

And then I opened the paint can. Pink! I didn’t want pink. I wanted a deep, dark red.

So much for The Plan. I have to take the paint back and try again another time. I am feeling more than “inconvenienced!”

Vocabulary words

I ran across a new word the other day and can’t seem to get it out of my head:

Bloviate \BLOH-vee-ayt\, intransitive verb:To speak or write at length in a pompous or boastful manner. Bloviation is the noun form; a bloviator is one who bloviates. (from Dictionary.com)

Some words just stick to me. I think it is because of the way they feel when I say them. Bloviate. “A bloviator is one who bloviates.” Wonderful word. If you saw the Harry Potter movie that starts with Harry getting mad at Mr. Dursley’s sister, who was bloviating as well as criticizing Harry’s parents, you saw the physical effects – she puffed up like a balloon and flew out the window. Now THAT was bloviating.

I’ve always had a fascination for individual words. When I was in high school my friend Thea and I used to get hung up on unusually pronounced words. ‘Refrigerator,’ for example. Or ‘porch.’ Since different letter sounds are produced in different parts of the mouth, using the tongue or teeth in different ways, some spoken words seemed inherently funny, just from their ‘location’ of origin.

Sometimes there just isn’t a word to fit the bill, so to speak. I feel perfectly justfied to just make them up then. Or sometimes there is a word, but it seems inadequate anyway. For example, the little things that form on sweaters – the result is called ‘pilling’ but somehow ‘a pill’ doesn’t say what the individual thing is. So to me it is a ‘nerny.’ I’m not sure why – that just seemed like the right thing to call it one time and it stuck – so obviously that IS what the name is, right? Or the thing that contented cats do with their front paws to something soft (or, usually, to me) – it is called ‘kneading.’ Which is fine if you write it, but to say it, you risk confusion with ‘needing.’ So, to us, it has become ‘smoofing.’ A good word. Go ahead, use it. You are welcome to it.

Maybe it will stick with you too. But for heaven sake don't bloviate about it.

Reality TV

Am I the only person in the US who has never watched a reality TV show? (That was actually a rhetorical question. I do have more faith in people than that.) Why would someone watch a bunch of exhibitionists hamming for camera attention and shock value? That I have to see the endless stream of commercials hawking them between news, travel and food programs is quite enough, thank you. From even those distasteful previews I know that the contests are formulaic; the celebrity shows are just promotional and ’Court TV’ is plain embarrassing. Daytime ‘shock-schlock’ shows like Jerry Springer must even be several rungs lower.

And yes, I am once again reminded of a book, written some 50 years ago, before Reality TV. Ray Bradbury, in “Fahrenheit 451,” wrote about a society so focused on making sure people were comfortable, content and satisfied (and hence decidedly un-revolutionary) that they were also, of necessity, unimaginative and mundane. In that fantasy world they burned books. In our world, they promote Reality TV. Either way, they burn all the ideas and challenges. They dull the intellect.

“Give the people contests they win by remembering the words to more popular songs… Don’t give them slippery stuff like philosophy or sociology to tie things up with. That way lies melancholy.”
-- Fire Captain Beatty, in Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury.

Influencing the Future

Remember the Scott Adams “Future” book that I was reading? Sorry to be going back to that again but there were some pretty interesting bits in it that related back to many of my previous observations (saving turtles, personal responsibility, life planning…) so I’m still thinking about it. Mr. Adams was promoting the view that things aren’t necessarily as they seem in terms of the “laws of nature” that we assume govern our lives - and our future. At least our individual 'futures.' (He described a 'lucky' family he had known once that just KNEW they’d be lucky, and so they were.) With this as his starting point, he suggested that we could all influence specific outcomes – attain specific goals in our lives – with, basically, a positive attitude and an open mind.

Think butterfly wings flapping and changing global weather patterns here.

He is advocating the process of “Affirmations,” which I always saw as a California ‘woo-woo’ sort of thing and really am not interested in. But, in its essence, it is just the old idea of the Power of Positive Thinking (or, some might even say – looking at it yet another way – the power of Prayer.) And there, I think, is merit.

At least I am certain that the ‘opposite’ proves the case – that not thinking about, planning for, and being open to a positive future dooms us to a bleak one.

Kurt Vonnegut Jr made up a story once about how ideas come to us – that each idea, creative thought or inspiration is actually a physical ‘ray,’ randomly shooting through the universe, which may or may not hit someone in the head and come to fruition, as it were. Obviously any progress in civilization depended on the right ray hitting the right person at the right time. For example, if E=MC2 had hit me instead of Einstein, the Theory of Relativity could never have been developed since I am, clearly, not the right person for such stuff. I'm not sure why that whole idea appealed to me... But, this ‘Positive Thinking’ idea appeals as well, seeming to be sort of the opposite-action-with-similar-results: We’re the ones shooting out ‘rays’ of goal statements, which in turn start bouncing off all the possible ‘outcomes’ and directing the right ones our way.

Of course formulating the goal statement in the first place is a challenge. So is recognizing an opportunity, when one zaps us, as being a step in the right direction.

So, if I HAD a plan, I might have the right attitude to achieve it!


Curious about the book? Here's two sources:
Review
Criticsm and Response

A Labor Day hike at Raven Run

There is a nature sanctuary near our house that we first visited this past spring. We hiked the trails and took endless pictures of the array of wildflowers - it was wonderful. But it's been too hot to go back. Until today.

While there are probably miles of little trails crisscrossing each other - and a map that we can't seem to read - we took the main trail, just as we had done in April. There is a meadow at the top, now full of thistles, and from there the trails move into the forest, eventually coming to an overlook above the Kentucky River. The return trail takes you along a beautiful stack-stone fence. Wonderful place!

When we first moved here, we read about the Kentucky River Palisades - beautiful rock walls that were formed by the river over the millennium. I saw an incredible picture on the internet of them once (but can't find it again, of course.) I've since led us on many a fruitless excursion to get a good view of them. Not possible, evidently. There are a few trails that wander near the river on public lands, but they don't ever really break out of the trees enough to see the river below, much less the rock above. And my own attempt at capturing the beauty that I can find in photography looks washed out with too much sun. So, I tried. But am not happy with the result.

We'll have to go back, again and again.

I did find a site advertising the photos-for-sale of a local photographer that might help you get a better look: James Archambeault

Snoring and observing

Yes, my cat snores. Maybe he is just trying to keep up his end of the nighttime “conversation” but I have to say that it has been harder getting used to his funny little snore on the bottom of the bed than it was the rather larger one on the pillow next to me. So I’m not getting a lot of sleep in this season of allergy-related breathing problems which sometimes brings on Deep Thought.

It has occurred to me that this blogging business is taking up a lot of my time – not that I don’t have a lot to be taken up by something, but… maybe it is time to stop focusing on my computer screen and look around again to see what else is going on. Besides, this is seriously interfering with my nap taking.

So, in addition to the aforementioned snoring oddity, what other observations are worthy of note? (Sorry, that statement implies that the news that my cat snores is “worthy of note.” Hang in there with me, surely something will occur to me here…)

Here's an idea...

There are some grandmothers in England who are wearing hooded sweatshirts and baseball caps (backwards) in an attempt to reverse a gang trend. They figure that once the gang ‘uniform’ is sported by old and definitely un-cool people like grannies, the kids won’t find it so attractive any more. Interesting strategy, but I suspect they missed the point somewhere.

Life goes on

We are discovering new pumpkins every day - they are hard to find since the leaves are so big. But we have 4 or 5 of significant size now. Good thing too - it's September already!

I'm having technical trouble with my blog, trying to replace the pictures with 'downsized' ones. Why? So I can use more, of course! I love the pictures. Anyway, I ended up deleting a post entirely, messed up a few other ones, got back the messed up ones... This technical stuff isn't for technical idiots! (And truthfully, it isn't really very 'technical.')

But... Onward! It is better than watching the disaster coverage over and over.

Speechless

I feel like I’m falling down on the job here with fewer postings, but I do, in fact, find myself speechless in the face of the hurricane disaster. It is catastrophic in so many ways: the loss of a major American city; the failure, on so many levels, of the government response; the lawlessness that has broken out; the sheer helplessness of a natural disaster of this magnitude. And then there is heartbreaking empathy for people who, today at least, have NO personal control in their lives.

If there is anyone out there today who still thinks a large federal government is a good idea – who thinks that government programs are the cures to our problems – I hope that you have the courage to rethink your position. FEMA is being led by a political appointee with no “disaster” experience. That doesn’t surprise me – but neither am I surprised that FEMA’s response to this disaster has been a disaster itself. When that is the way the government operates, we can’t really expect much. You could go on forever listing the other reasons that this mess is happening: “Private” money isn’t there because a huge percentage of our personal incomes are sucked up in taxes. “Public” money (all those taxes) isn’t there because we are sending it all to Israel and to corrupt South American and African regimes, and because we diverted it to ill-advised and hopeless strategies to “fight the war” on terror and drugs. In spite of trillions of dollars spent on “help” programs like welfare, Head Start, after-school care, Sesame Street and all the rest, we have countless numbers of people mired in poverty because of their inability to make good choices and delay gratification in order to make preparations for success. Individual accountability is what has been lost from all that “help.” What have we gained? We gained a bunch of people with no means to help themselves.

The old joke about “I’m from the government; I’m here to help” isn’t so funny.

OK – maybe I wasn’t speechless after all.

Good Grief! (And a helpful suggestion)

I entered a contest today – at HGTV again, of course – and, in filling out the form, had to indicate my birth year by selecting the appropriate year from a pull-down list. I am REALLY close to the age category “Or Earlier.” Good grief.

The suggestion: In the medical world, ICE stands for “in case of emergency.” Paramedics may turn to a victim’s cell phone for identity information – but most of us simply have a list of names and numbers. Who should they call? If you add “ICE” to the entry of the person you want to be called in an emergency, you can save time and have your “near and dear” contacted quickly.

Ramblings about local happenings (and old adages)

The water bill came today and was only $27 compared to $173 last month, so they probably DID just misread the meter last month. I’m relieved! I guess Two ‘Wrongs’ make a ‘Right.’ Of course those thoughts created a stream of other thoughts. So…

… Speaking of our water bill, our drought was officially declared over and we could start watering the lawn again if we needed to – and didn’t mind paying for it, of course. But the leftover moisture we got from Hurricane Katrina, coupled with the rain we got from the northwest last week, has already restored the lawn to its former glory. 'A stitch in time saves nine' I guess. Or, almost. Some parts are definitely NOT restored. They look very dead, and probably are, but most of the lawn looks good. (Especially the part right over the septic system.) So…

… Thinking about the lawn, I mowed the grass today. Yep, dusted off the ol’ John Deere and bounced up and down our hill. Had a grand time. Now, the guy who graded our lot when it was originally put in obviously didn’t believe that 'something worth doing is worth doing right.' I watched him also put in the lawn next door – he uses a little backhoe, not a grader, so it’s no wonder we all have “bumps” in our lawns. So…

… As I was mowing, and bouncing, and thinking about the guy grading lawns without a grader, I started thinking about my neighbor – the one who is “big” in Kentucky State government and was indicted this summer over illegal state hiring practices. (I was also thinking about him because the last time HE mowed, he took out some of our pumpkin vines – and no, they didn’t cross over his lot line!) So…

… That got me thinking about the KY state government mess: the first Republican Governor in 30-some years got into a bit of legal trouble along with his minions because they seemed to be using state jobs as political rewards. Gee – what a concept! I wonder why others haven’t tried that? No, wait – it seems that the Democrats did just that in Kentucky for years! And, evidently, the Governor's Boys DO believe that 'something worth doing is worth doing right' - because they really went all-out with political favoritism. Anyway, Governor Fletcher just announced that he will “Pardon” all those indicted, thereby blowing off the Grand Jury and leading to calls of impeachment. (A stitch in time...) As near as I can tell, the Governor’s justification regarding all the party-affiliation-and-donation-list-checking-as-hiring-criteria was that the Democrats did, in fact ‘do that’ for years. So…

… Two ‘Wrongs’ make a ‘Right.’ Isn’t that where we started?