The Soul of an Artist

When you pursue some skill that you love you reach a point where you wish people to take notice no matter how shy you are.  When I first joined the RedBubble, a photography website out of Australia (far away where no one knows me), I thought it would be a good source for feedback from professional and amateur photographers to help me grow.  I was most naive.  I posted a comment about how there was so much praise and no suggestions for change and improvement which was met with deadly silence!  As the months passed I submitted a few very veiled critical suggestions to others and they were taken with a grain of salt.  But I also noticed some very angry discussions unbecoming photographers when I perused other sites and journal entries.  It became clear to me that some artists have very sensitive egos and do not appreciate critical input.  Fortunately I was never on the receiving end of this, but I would not have been dismayed, and just accepted that I had bruised someone's sense of self.  Thus, I realized this was just a site to post and wait for praise or silence.  There is one venue for input from others, but it is somewhat complicated for me to figure out how to post the photograph for review so I have only posted one or two items!

I have entered contests on this site which are primarily set up to stimulate membership and have over 100 features of new work or photographs that have been selected for top ten praise in challenges that are put forth by volunteers hosting the various groups.  Some of these groups leaders are professional photographers, so I am honored in this selection. 

I have submitted photos for free for publication and been rewarded.  I have not won any of the local contests to which I submit.  I have sold a few photos as greeting cards.

Some of my readers of this blog are artists.  They write, paint, take photographs and feel comfortable that they are a perfect fit into the artist mold.  They are not intimidated by anyone or do not show it.  I, on the other hand, have a tiny ego in this world of the artist and see myself as a really struggling persona.  (Please note, I am not a shrinking violet and do NOT have a tiny ego in other areas of my life.)  While I love the praise my readers send with love on my photos and my prose and poetry, I never really feel as if I deserve it.  I accept it as encouragement and a pat on the back from a loving parent, but not recognition of  small genius...which we all would really love.

Okay, what is my point in this long, self-involved post?  I have recently been selected as a feature artist in a small (very small) online journal.  I do not know what is expected.  It seems to be not an interview but more so a write up by me of who I am and a selection from my works.  The surprise for me is that I have only entered two works into this group that selected me...others I have entered dozens.   I was told not to worry about that!  So, please wish me luck and tell  me how you would get in the mind set of an artist for this!

Glazing

It is early on a lazy winter morning at my daughter's house.  All is ominously quiet since there are three little kids that live here who could awaken at any moment with amazing energy that has been restored by a good night's sleep.  Actually two of them find mornings a bit of a challenge and on cold winter days burrow deeper into their soft blankets begging to be left alone.

This leaves the oldest, now at seven, who has always been an early riser.  He used to rise in the mornings by screaming his lungs out as if having a root canal.  Thankfully he outgrew that in a year or so and now awakens gently with a mischeivous smile on his face.  He skips downstairs to where I am reading my kindle and drinking my first cup of coffee.

After greeting me, he then snuggles for about three seconds before the squirming and stretching kicks in.  He had a bad dream that he tells me about in glorious detail.  Then he had a waking dream which he begins to explain.  Finally he changes the subject to Harry Potter and how well he can read small parts of this book with his mother and I tell him I am amazed at that.  Then we switch without segway to discussing comic books.  He asks if I know about Loud Boy, which I must answer in the negative as my reading genre is somewhat limited.  I must admit that my eyes begin to glaze over when he explains in all the dreadful detail how Loud Boy makes his escape from a video game and also saves the world from an asteroid with a configuration of rubber bands.

Finally he sighs and then asks if he can play some Wii before breakfast.

I never realized how much I could love a ball of imaginative energy.

Read it or not, the life of those you love is in your hands.

There is not a lot of data, but what little there is can be found here:

Regarding My Prior Post...

Seems that yesterdays post created a butterfly effect and that ripple that the other blogger created was far more significant than mine!!  Please go here and pat this woman on the back...better yet, give her a hug.

Touching Souls

Yes, we finally got some of the white stuff.

I have had a series of medical tests lately.  I have not written about them because this path of discovery is nothing serious and I am remaining optimistic for a solution.  The symptoms are vague and hardly debilitating and therefore not worth the tale.  But the doctor's visits are.

I was waiting in line in one office to pick up some documentation to take to another doctor, when the body movements of the elderly man in front of me caused me to breathe in quickly.  He had the same body build of my dad and the same body language.  When he turned to his wife, an elderly woman in a wheel chair with a left leg amputation, handing her some paperwork and speaking in a soft gravely voice, it completed the deja vu.  Suddenly tears came to my eyes.  His gentle and self-conscious manner so reminded me of my dad that I was going to start crying right there in the reception area.  I had to turn and sit down in a corner of the room until I caught my breath.

The man gently turned the wheel chair and pushed it toward the door leaning across his wife's lap to push down on the door handle.  He asked quietly of his wife is she was ready to hold the door open with her foot.  I jumped up and held it open for them trying to hide my tears.  They both thanked me and went on their way to the parking lot not noticing anything amiss.

The next day I was picking up some blood test results from another doctor's office, and after getting the paperwork, was deep in thought about a short drive I had to take to a nearby town for a meeting that I was attending.  A 40-ish woman dressed casually, hair in a pony tail, and wearing sun glasses preceeded me into the elevator.  There were only two floors to this medical building so she pushed the lower button back to the parking lot for the both of us.  Then she broke the silence by staring at the elevator buttons and saying in a broken voice, "I just got some bad news."

"I am so sorry." I replied suddenly giving her my full attention.

"I have to go into the hospital."  She looked at me with her dark sunglasses and I could not read her eyes.

"That is such sad news, but I am sure you will be fine."  I added ignorant of her illness.

She touched her right arm.  "I have a deep vein thrombosis in my arm.  I am so scared."  She held back a sob.

 "That is scary."  I said.  "But they have so many great technologies these days, I am sure you will be back home soon."

"I am just afraid."

I hesitated not sure what to add.   "You need a hug."  I wrapped her in a big hug thinking she may be going home alone to no one...no one to touch her or cheer her up.

She sobbed a little and thanked me.

As we left the elevator she smiled and thanked me again for my love.  "I just thought these things only happened in your legs."  I knew I was taking a chance bringing a political figure into the conversation, but was trying to hard to find something to encourage her, so I added "Hillary Clinton just recovered from a serious clot in her brain and she is doing fine."

We reached our cars and she turned once again, thanked me a third time and then said "She did, didn't she?"

I thought about that woman all the way home and thanked the energies that prevail that I was there and that she did not have to ride that elevator alone.  I was so glad to be there.

And, yes, my medical issues stand insignificant.

Mutual Concessions

Yes, I am basking in the warm feeling of the inauguration of the man I voted for.  But I still have close conservative friends who really think our President is going to bring this country to its knees.  Since the former President already did that, I cannot even begin to understand their concern.  My conservative friends are smart and hard working and devout and wonderful people...well, one of them has an obsessive compulsive disorder in fearing germs ...really, but as a medical doctor I will forgive him his use of cases of paper towels.  I just wish I could crawl inside their heads.

I understand the fear of socialism.  It is, like communism, an ideal that if left unguarded, can ruin a democracy.  I would like to see more control over welfare programs and unemployment benefits.  Many lazy folks take advantage and I need to do more research on this.  I think the earned benefit programs need to remain supported though.  It seems that Paul Ryan has indicated that Social Security is a "Ponzi scheme" which is a gross misinterpretation on his part.  Yet, Representative Ryan used the same benefits of this "Ponzi scheme" to get through college.  So, send me a politician who is not rich and/or has not taken advantage of any government program and I will be willing to listen to his/her side of the story.  If they can prove to me that most people on these programs are lazy and refuse to work than I will begin to understand their fear. 

If there is a man who lost his job at the age of 60 and who for 8 months looks for a job, and gets discouraged with being turned away time and again, and finally says he will just collect unemployment and wait until he can get his social security benefits, do you begrudge him this failure to continue to search for work...if he has worked hard all his life?  I know someone who is doing to do this.  I cannot judge him.

I know there is common ground.  It seems that a meeting of the Tea Party and the Move-On founder  opened a window recently. This little snippet gives me hope. We may always disagree on any number of significant issues, but we really are good people under all the rhetoric and we really can compromise on most of the issues in a way that can move this country forward.  If we keep the moneyed lobbyists out of the argument, I fee that we can reach reasonable compromises.

Leavings

After we removed the Christmas tree we were finally able to move our breakfast-lunch-formal-informal table back in the bay window area.  Prior to that I lifted the tree rug that covered the central space and noticed this which falls directly below the single leg stand of our table:

Hubby calls these little finds "spider spit."  I think that is not a scientific or technical term.  But if you live in the woods you will find these spider droppings beneath your window ledges, under your cabinet toe stops and behind those doors that you leave open most of the time.  They usually have delicate webs hanging above them and my grandson is the first to notice these when he visits and he is crawling around looking for some small toy that has rolled behind or under something.  It looks like I never clean house, which I do and often.  Some look like little beads and others like what they actually are!  But I will tell you that NASA is missing a phenomenal chemistry here.  These are harder than rocks and hang tighter than super clue to wherever they land.

Do you have spider spit?

Renewed and Improved

This winter has seemed like Ground Hog Day...all winter long.  The days are dark and unusually short.  I swear this year they seem much shorter than ever, maybe 4 hours long.  We get a few days of sunshine, but most are just gray.  Sometimes it rains all day long.  But even with these slight differences each day seems almost the same as each day before with no new edges or harsh angles.  I do tend to get a mild version of Seasonal Affective Disorder this time of year.  I understand why Scandinavian literature is so plodding and sad.

My usual reaction is to curl up on the couch in "seasonal-change-wait" mode and read or watch TV.  I have edited all of my recent photos and there is nothing new to play with as you can take only so many photos of birds and gray trees.  This is the season of boredom and depression.  No wonder the entire nation is arguing about guns instead of poverty and jobs or chocolate cake and wine.  (We own 2 guns, have no fear of anyone taking them, and are pro-gun control, of course.)

I got so bored a few days ago that I cleaned the two bathrooms downstairs toothbrush clean---actually using an old toothbrush at times.  Everything that wasn't bolted down was taken out and every corner was scrubbed.  Every rug was washed, every wall artwork dusted, every light fixture polished.  I threw away toothbrushes and extra lotions I hadn't used in years.  I even organized the drawers.  I turned on all the lights teasing the sun to come out.  Boy am I bored!

Then just when I was ready to start taking drugs, I woke early one morning to an unusual golden light peaking at my eyelids and saw this!  I could not contain myself, grabbed my camera and ran in slipper-socks to the dock.  My socks became heavy squishy sponges as I cross wet grass and wet wood, but the temperature was not brutally cold, just bearable.  I stood on the dock in my new white Christmas bathrobe and wet feet looking like a giant poodle with black paws and snapped away in wonder.  I even had time to look at the sky and enjoy the moment.  There were two and one was complete.

Today they are predicting snow!!  I am really excited for another change!  It seems that I will survive.  My hearing will improve.  (Oh, the prior post was about Justin Timberlake's new song "Suit and Tie.")

Senior Moments

I am eating breakfast and only listening with one ear to the news host.  I turn to hubby who is beginning to spread butter on his English muffin.

"Did she just say 'Soup and Salad'?" I ask.

Hubby turns his head toward me.  "Nope, she said 'Soup and Thai.  I am sure."

"'Soup and Thai?'"  I look at the TV screen.  "That can't be right.  That doesn't make any sense."

"Sounded like 'Soup and Thai' to me."

"Oh well, I don't buy his music anyway."  I say as I finish my coffee.

The Asylum

Yes, the retirement party was worthwhile.  The person we were honoring is one of those gems in life that those working under her weep at her departure.  She was nurturing, innovative and smart and a very close friend.

BUT I was also under social obligation to stop by my old department up several floors.

My final years I worked for the "guv'ment" in the Washington, D.C. area.  It was a service oriented job rather than research, and I was in a group where I sort of remained on the outside.  I had to bring in my own budget, and most of those I provided service to were not in the office, the building, or even the town.  So I did not work closely with those colleagues in the offices around me.  At times there was jealousy (surprise!) at my ability to have a little more independence with a budget.

But also, some days I really felt I was working in an asylum in my immediate department.  There were a handful of colleagues that were hardworking, professional and with whom I had a very collegial relationship.  Most of them moved on before me.  There were others that had serious personal problems.  #1 was emotionally unstable.  Some days she was friendly and some days she would bite your head off for no particular reason.  #2 was very competitive about her program and secretive.  I did win her over toward the end and she and I worked on a project or two successfully. #3 (the retiring program supervisor) was good at the job and did hold the unit together, but when she got bored she liked to play mind games with her staff and watch the chaos.  #5 (the new program supervisor) was treading water until his retirement and had no desire to manage anyone when he came on board and he hid in his office. #6 the office secretary was everybody's mother.   She had a million of her own life problems (money, live-in lover, divorcing son, etc.) but she always wanted to solve everyone's calamities rather than do her job.  She was out sick a LOT.  #7 also had serious mental problems.  She was cute and sweet, but behind the scenes she was frequently attaching herself to any new project and hung on for dear life trying to pretend she was making a contribution.  Once a contractor got in a shouting match with her across from my cubicle because she kept messing with his project.  She spent time telling tales on others and blowing things out of proportion.  She had a panic attack in one meeting and created a rift between another person and I that was totally unexpected until I saw how she liked to drive wedges.  She and another contractor had an ongoing feud which took up time in too many staff meetings.  When a position opened up for a promotion for her where she had criticized every prior candidate, she backed down and didn't take it, to no one's surprise.  For a full year I tried to develop a relationship with her and then just ignored her as best I could when I realized how dangerous she was.  #8 was in the cubicle near mine and I had to get her permission to use any of our major equipment such as the giant laser printer.  She was strict, demanded genuflecting, gave instructional lectures always and the only way I could get anything out of her was to praise the hell out of her....which I did.  #9 was the cleaning girl who stole food from our lunches in the kitchen.  Some days, you would be missing your lunch.

Everyone else was pretty normal and hardworking if a bit territorial which is not unusual in decades of tight government budgets.  I have maintained a close relationship we a few of these folks and we have even spent days hiking and boating after my retirement.  The night before this retirement celebration all the dysfunctional stuff I had had to deal with while trying to do my job came rushing back like a nightmare and that was the energy in the post below.

I regret that my final years were not spent in a place where people worked together with professional competitiveness but courtesy, where people had common goals, where there was some trust and sense of teamwork.  But, alas, I earned my money the hard way.

Friend's Retirement Parties

I embrace with no reservation

The peacefulness of solitude

and the songs of nature.

Yet for some too much of this

is a breathtaking loneliness

equal to waiting for death.

The mindless little chatter

of long ago acquantenances

fills me with emptyness.

Yet for some it is a

breath of oxygen

and injects lost energies.

The passing years

now clearly paint the obvious

shallowness, fear, and deception.

Yet for some it is

acceptance of imperfections

and silly weaknesses.

The hand extended still shows the scars where it was bitten,

Yet some wounds heal much better than others.

My memories are somewhat harsh

and heavy to recognize.

His memories are nostalgic

and bring surety, and perhaps,

assurance of goals met.

Are we of two imperfect worlds?

Are we of two weak minds?

We are of two imperfect worlds.

We are of two imperfect minds.

Honestly

Two updates to complicate the post below even more.  I ate out at Olive Garden last night because I wanted to support their support of their employees...and not to put too fine a point on it,  I just wanted to eat out after several weeks of cooking.  Anyway, the waitress comes to our table and asks for our drink order after we get settled.  She proceeds to sneeze into her elbow not once but twice before she can even speak.  She has been out the two prior days due to illness.

Yes, this was extremely off-putting, and if I was more religious, I would say this was a message of some kind from God.  Of course, I had to comment that I was pleased how the Darden franchise had decided to provide their employees with heath care instead of cutting hours.

She smiled ruefully and then said it was great if you could afford it.  Yes, they provided every employee with the opportunity for health coverage, but it was expensive and the coverage was minimal.  Then she said that if she didn't want it she still had to provide herself with health coverage from somewhere else by law. 

I also want to add, after talking to my husband, that my health coverage, which is taken from my pension check prior to my getting it, is also more expensive then I remembered.  My husband and I pay for single, not family, coverage as it saves us about $100 a year.   We are both on Medicare by age, but also must purchase the supplemental for coverage of what Medicare does not pay which is a lot!  We each pay $165.79 a month.  Last year it was $132.21.  This is almost a 25% increase in premium costs if my math is correct.  I could blame this on the implementation of the Affordable Health Care Act, but I am a pragmatist and think it would have gone up anyway and I do not know for what reason.  My co-pays creep up over the years as well.  Still this insurance is far less than we would pay through Part A and Part B supplimental Medicare insurance to pay for the things that the medicare basic does not cover.  It is similar to what Congress gets.

We also both carry long-term care insurance.  We would get about 3 years coverage each in a nursing home if needed and this costs us about $300 a year each.  We purchased these policies when we wer in our mid-fifties for greater savings   These are somewhat of a gamble, because in decades ahead the insurance company has to be there to pay out if needed and we are gambling that one or both of us will need to spend time in a nursing home.  Our company is large and bonded.

I took care of my mother in her last months in her own home and I took care of my Mother-in-Law in her last years in our home.  But she did have to spend a few months in a nursing home before her death when she required full time nursing care.  I just do not want my children to have to take us in if they cannot.  My father was taken in by my brother for a year before his death.  My Father-in Law spent about a year in a nursing home in Florida.

Food, Glorious Food

Mr. John Schnatter, owner of one of the largest mansions I have ever seen built by an American pastime, made news when he claimed that raising the price of his pizza by pennies would be too great a change to provide those working for him with health care, something he would be required to do under the Affordable Health Care Act.  Yes, folks this act is going to cost you more in pizza.  But if you eat lots of pizza, your health care costs are going to go up anyway.

I am willing to pay more for all types of things so that my fellow citizens can have decent health care.  It is the lower wage employees, many times the ones exposed to the worst working conditions and the most unpredictable employment stability, that are going to suffer by employers reducing their hours.  I was trying to cheer up a cashier at BJ's when he pointed out it was not the long hours but the shorter hours he was suffering from.  He was only allowed to work 24 hours a week.  I thought it was an overtime issue, but he clarified that if he put in 30 hours they would have to provide him with healthcare support.

Denny's restaurants in Florida said they would raise their meals by 5%.  Really!  I am willing to pay that during the few times I eat at Denny's.

The Darden restaurants (Olive Garden, Red Lobster, etc.) also claimed this healthcare law was just too costly and too burdensome on their business...until they found within weeks a drop in business by about 37%  when people found out and a drop in their standards of customer service when employees were spread out part-time.

Look, this national health care initiative is going to cost, but the cost will be spread out over us all and there are several provisions that tighten the waste and overspending done in hospitals and doctor's offices.

Just THINK for a minute.  Do you really want to be eat food that has been cooked, handled and served by staff who avoid seeing a doctor until the very last minute because they have no health care?  Let us be practical here and little more generous with our money.

I will watch the food industry and only eat in those places that care about the health of their employees.  You can take your own chances as you wish.

Dumber than Smart

A few years ago when I bought my HP PC they included not a single manual but a 3-foot wide foldout with graphics on how to put it together.  The limited written instructions were in a font size that could be read standing over the paper when laid out on the floor.  They they sent me online to learn how to use the PC.  That approach is most challenging if you are new to computers but it is efficient in the word arena if you need to know how to put it together.

With my Droid smartphone they gave me this many opportunities in the photo above to get it wrong and almost be reduced to tears on the day after Christmas.  The font size was 8!   How can an instrument that is primarily designed for communication get is so wrong?   Clearly they never learned the best from Cicero "When you wish to instruct, be brief; that men's minds take in quickly what you say, learn its lesson, and retain it faithfully. Every word that is unnecessary only pours over the side of a brimming mind."  Well, I have definitely brimmed here.  There are videos online that you can watch in the tiny screen to learn more.  They move very fast.  You will have to watch them enough times to memorize them and then perhaps apply.  (Anyone under 50 who is reading this, get over your miraculous selves because you WILL be here someday with some great new technology.)

I eventually went to the store where the phone was purchased and asked the 15-year-old working there if he could transfer my phone book from my old phone.  He fiddled for a while and had the same success that I did.  He took my phone to the computer and fiddled there and had more success.  I forgot to ask him to transfer the dozen photos that I had on the little pink device, but they were not important.  I purchased three screen protectors for the touch screen and a car charger and got out of there for about $40.00!  That used to be the price of a monthly phone bill so long ago.

I have had this phone since December 25 and hubby set it up so that it was ready to run on that day.  I have received exactly one call since then, and it was from my husband in a test call.   I told my husband that I really did not want this phone, but he is stubborn and probably thought I was trying to save money.  Well he was right about that as I am not sure how much more on a monthly basis this gadget will cost us.  My most recent cellular bill was 60$ more than usual, and I hope that means it included the cost of this slick pink thing.  As I said before it will be most easy to drop---compared to the files in the photo below.

I did figure out how to take a photo of someone and then add that as an icon to the favorites box for phone calls,  something hubby did not know could be done.  But he has probably 300 contacts on his phone!

Yes, I am trying to be grateful, but I would have been just as happy with a box of French chocolate truffles.

I have little use for the "APPs" except the GPS and mapping device which is like my Garmin GPS!  So, now I have two ways to get lost and two computer voices to ask me to make a U-Turn at the next available opportunity.  The game APPS are not free and who on earth can see stuff that small in order to play if you are waiting in a doctor's office?  I no longer need to carry a pocket calculator...I guess that is one of the things that will be obsolete in the future.  I do not know the difference between an APP and a WIDGET though.

If you keep your phone on off most of the time in your purse and IF you have connected to FaceBook via your phone, be aware when you boot it up that it will go back an eternity to update you on your FB notifications!!!   See the very top line in the phone screen shot below.  It does not let you know who is making these comments as it scrolls and updates, so it is less than useful.

Yes, I am trying to be grateful, but I would have been just as happy with a box (or a dozen boxes) of French chocolate truffles.

Abundance

We are both tired of the abundance that surrounds us over the holidays.

Hubby is tired of the abundance of germs that were shared by the most beautiful grandchildren in the world.  He has been coughing for days.

I am tired of the abundance of chores that must be done when one half of the partnership is down for the count.

I am tired of the abundance of calories that waited for me everywhere and I have started once again (after the second twisted ankle in late fall and the completion of the dose of weird medicine) to go forth on the elliptical.  Thank goodness this is not a New Year's resolution.

I am tired of the abundance of specialty stores in American malls.  We have not one but two 'eyebrow' stores in our city mall.

This list is just the self-indulgent list at the mall.  It will come as no surprise to my readers that I have NEVER had my eyebrows done in my life time.  At this time in my life they are thin and gray...so only hormone application would work and with my luck I would also get hair growing out of my nose and ears.

There was a store just selling olive oils and few specialty vinegars...talk about living in abundance in a world that has many going hungry each night.  (That guilt did not stop me from buying several expensive oils!)

There was an abundance of gifts in my life this year...two big ones that hubby bought me and which I did not ask for and am not sure I want.  One is a very fancy remote control movie camera (two actually) for watching animals, nannies, or neighbors when they do not know they are being photographed.  (This should just open up the world for more blog posts and perhaps resulting lawsuits.  Youtube here I come.)

The other was a smart phone.  It is thin making it very droppable.  It has a touch screen that zips and zaps and gets it right 50% of the time.  There are features upon features ... 90% of which I will never use.  After some effort I linked it to FaceBook and was a little frightened that it picked up a bunch of phone numbers from that link as well!  I bet half these people do not know that I have their phone number!   Please note that I get maybe three calls a month on my mobile phone...maybe.  Usually these calls are hubby trying to figure out where I am in the mall so that we can meet up for lunch.

The one abundance that I am always amazed about is the love of all the love-able people in my life.  I can never repay it, but that will be my New Year's resolution.

(One final abundance note is too many fruit flies...not from all the wine I have been drinking but all the fruit that went to ferment while we were gone.  I actually have one floating in the dregs of my coffee cup this morning.)

2013 Is Not an Unlucky Number

Responses to past questions in no particular order from ya'll:

Never played Angry Birds, but I do know what it is.  (I got a smart phone for Christmas, unasked for, and I am sure I will not play Angry Birds on it.  I am hoping I can just figure out how to make calls!)  The Angry Birds game in the post below was a lego-like game without the great Lego engineering behind it.

I do not know what Google Reader is and glad that I have 117 followers there--so should I shoot for 150 now?  How can I not know  about this stuff?

Regarding the malware issue, I deleted the html link from my side bar to another blogger and deleted the html link in my post to the same blogger and that got rid of my malware issue.  I still cannot go there to read her posts and I love her blog very much, so this is very frustrating!  I will try again soon.

I also cannot leave a comment on Murmurrs and I love her blog to death as well!!  I log in as Google reader, I log in as anonymous, nothing works.  I seem to have resolved The Chubby Chatterbox issue.  WILL YOU ALL PLEASE JUST STAY PUT!

On the bright side, 2013 is going to be a great year for us all...I just KNOW THAT!

Reviewing

The holiday was very nice this year.  One of those perfect ones where no one is sick, no one is grumpy, and no one has an agenda.  I will treasure it.

We got soft fuzzy things to hug, for me it was a bathrobe.

We got stuff to put on our head.

With or without tags, we really look cool.

Anyone for a game of Quidditch?

The adults got a little angry over assembly of Angry Birds.

Sometimes it was a little overwhelming.

Sometimes little animals friends went to hide under the furniture.

But it ended with the best double birthday party!

Happy

Follow Me!

All I want for Christmas (among other things money cannot buy) is 100 followers.  I am close!

I guess my blog is now safe from the malware notice that I got this morning??? I will let others know on the other blog if I get no problems later today.

Posting...or Not

I have been having trouble posting comments on a few blogs.   Murmurrs and Butler and Bagman to name two.  This may have been going on for some time because I assumed my comments were going through and I did not go back to read what I had written.  The other day I had wanted to add something and found that none of my posts were being accepted, at least to these two and maybe others.  I know that coding is becoming more individualized by bloggers, but does anyone know about this bug, and if so, found a solution?  (I tried IE and deleted all the cookies and that worked.  Mozilla is still being temperamental.  I am so depressed that all my wit and wisdom was for not lost in the Interknot!)

Now I find that Loose Leaf Notes is being blocked for Malware or something or other,no matter which broswer I use!  Sorry Colleen but Google will not let me comment!  Two bloggers forward and one backward.  Maybe this is a Mayan thing after all?

Godlessness Be Damned

As we get closer to a God-filled holiday, I am surprised, although I certainly should not be, at how many God-less situations are being pointed out to me by God-filled experts. The most recent being a justification for tragedies in schools and universities because they are God-less bastions of compromising lifestyles and philosophies, and the next at the funerals of some of the school victims where church-goers were protesting their Godlessness.

As my readers know I am not a religious person. I am not an agnostic or an atheist either. I am someone on a journey always looking for God-fullness and answers in religious and non-religious events alike.  I do not see God in my likeness but as a magnificent power or energy inside all living things, yet I do not see myself as a pantheist. I would never have the hubris to point out places where God does not exist.   But I am bold enough to say that I think God is goodness and God is everywhere.  God is the quiet and tiny.   God is sometimes the bold and loud. God is ALWAYS EVERYWHERE and we abandon God, God does not abandon us.  I do not think God is an evangelist demanding loyalty and creating punishment for those who stray.  We create our own punishment.  God is the softest act you will ever know seducing you into loyalty.  He is like the poet's (Autry) son who in his autistic struggle in this world caught not one but dozens of butterflies and hummingbirds in his child-hands in slow wonderment, named them and then set them free in love.

I see IT/God in the face of a child whose life was shortened by violence. I see IT in the eye of the whale. I see IT in the dance of youth at a party. I see IT in the hands of a nurse removing blood streaked gloves. I see IT in the bent and gnarled body of an old woman crossing the street. I see IT in all the music that man has created and invented. I see this power for goodness in the poetry I read. I see it in all the colored lights we string and all the candles we light when man celebrates any God-filled holiday anywhere in the world.  For that brief moment we concentrate outside ourselves.   I also see God in the anger and discouragement of mankind.  IT is hidden inside behind the fire waiting to be seen. 

I see IT when we sigh and forgive ourselves for our mistakes each year and promise ourselves a better year.  There sits God deep inside our soul waiting for us to recognize IT and not give up hope.

Got Your Attention, Didn't It?

I have had a mild infection that I have been unable to shake for weeks and I finally demanded help from a local Physicians Assistant since my doctor (well THAT is a whole other story) will be fired by me this month.  I am now on a drug that has the following uses:

"is used to prevent anthrax (a serious infection that may be spread on purpose as part of a bioterror attack) and  is also sometimes used to prevent or treat travelers' diarrhea and plague (a serious infection that may be spread on purpose as part of a bioterror attack)."  Were these explanations on labels years ago?  Do the U.S. embassies have this in their stock?  It also has not one but two black box warnings from the FDA.  Whatever THAT means.  I kept thinking of black boxes in airplanes as I read this.

The tablets are accompanied by a rather dense brochure.  This drug also has the following dangers:  "sudden pain, snapping or popping sound, bruising, swelling, tenderness, stiffness, or loss of movement in any of your joints."  It is that "snapping or popping sound" warning that makes me more than nervous in taking this.  No popcorn or fires in the fireplace tonight.

The above is, of course, in addition to a whole slew of possible reactions you would never want to happen to your worst enemy ever.

There, now aren't you feeling much, much better about your current problems?

Waves on the Water

This is how one email begain when I opened my inbox today:

This was a hard day telling Michael about what happened before knowing names. He is handling it well by asking thoughtful questions and knows that there are kids in heaven with Orazio(grandfather), Ricardo (horse), Elmo (fish), and his hermit crab.

Michael is the grandson of a friend of mine who just earlier that week attended a birthday party of one of the children who was killed in the tragedy at the elementary school and who also attended CCD (Catholic school) classes at his church taught by the mother of the same child.  The wife of my friend who sent this email, who is also a friend of ours, is a nurse and was at the hospital working with a father, a NICU Physicians Assistant who has save so many babies lives, when he learned that his daughter had been shot at the school.  This is the little blonde girl whose face has appeared in so many news stories.  These tragic waves keep on expanding.

This is such a tough holiday season for us all.  I took an unplanned trip up to see my grandchildren on Sunday...just to hug them and see them.

Early Warming?

It is totally amazing to me that I had roses to pick a few days ago to add to some Christmas decorations that are on my dining table.  I also noticed this morning that some trees are beginning to have small buds swelling in anticipation.  This is so frightening to me as I do think we must have some cold weather ahead.  If we do not, how odd spring will seem in early March!  Which plants will survive this change, which birds and insects will be caught off guard and flying around somewhere they should not be?

Words...just Words

You can ask why?  No one will give you an answer that makes any sense.

You can ask how?  No untangled web will lead to the path of what the pattern meant.

You can ask what next?  Take one step and then breathe and then take the next step and then breathe.

The breathing hurts, I know.  It is harsh and sharp.

The first step feels as if there is no ground beneath your foot.

You may fall, but pick yourself up.

Reach for that nearby hand, it is firm and warm.

Take the next step.

You are part of the tapestry of this life.

Your presence helps keep it all from unraveling.

You are important.  Please stay strong.

To the Rest of the World...We Are Not as Crazy as We Seem...Maybe.

(Note:  This event and the writing about it happened days before the Oregon tragedy.)

I had a list...somewhere...I thought...looking for that wrinkled yellow paper torn from my notepad and now lying hidden beneath a wallet, a small camera, hand lotion, a pocket calendar, and stale gum deep in the bottom of my purse.  I must use the list or I will kick into that addictive mode where I keep buying gifts for loved ones as if that could make them love me more or longer.  I MUST STICK TO THE LIST!

I look around the mall filled with dazed shoppers and resigned children carrying bags of all shapes and sizes.  Down the center of the mall are young minimum wage employees standing expectantly outside their kiosks wishing to dab something on my hand or allow me to play with some automated toy.  They stand intensely watching for potential customers or absently texting wishing they were anywhere but here before displays of woven scarves or silver jewelry or brightly colored cell-phone cases.  I silently say a prayer (to whomever) that they make it through the season with a little more money than they had hoped for.  They deserve some reward after spending days rubbing lotion on old ladies hands.

Sighing to myself,  I have given up on the list.  I do remember my son asking for shirts and sweaters in medium and I turn to hubby and direct him away from watching some flying toy toward the large department store at the very end of the mall.  It will be a trek and an obstacle course, but we will get there.

Surprisingly, the men's clothing section in the back of the store is not in total disarray.  Shelves are neat and reasonably full of stock.  Some of the sale prices are very good.  I peruse tables avoiding the cream cheese golf look and the expensive European brands and turn toward the edgier clothing to match my son's 'rock star' personality.  After all, he texted yesterday that he will be opening for Sublime with Rome...whoever in the hell they are!  Striped shirts with thin bright bands or shiny black buttons which I match to a more subdued but very soft pullover sweater are my selections.

As I turn toward the checkout a tall woman about my age is standing just to my left.  She turns to the (Indian/Pakistani?) girl behind the counter and asks if the shirt she is holding out is more blue or more purple.  The girl hesitates and then answers "Purple" with a distinct un-American accent.  Then the woman pulls up a bright lime green shirt, and looking at both the girl and I, asks if we think it is too bright.  The girl demures clearly not sure what answer her customer is looking for.

I think her question is naive, but I tactlessly respond.  "Depends on the personality of the man you are giving it to.  Is he bold with personality or more conservative?"   She doesn't answer but tucks the shirt under her arm and then turns to me again with the blue/purple shirt and asks if I think it is blue or periwinkle.  I want to explain that looking at colors under store lighting is very deceptive, but being the photographer that I like to think I am, I boldly state that it has a little more purple in it and is probably closer to periwinkle.

I place my selections on the counter and hand the girl my credit card.

"I do not know what color is periwinkle," she smiles as she begins to scan the bar codes of my selections.

The tall, solidly built woman approaches the counter behind my husband and I, and looks around the store commenting that there is a lot of stock that still has to be moved by the holidays.  I respond that I have seen some stores that do not seem to have so much inventory and appear to be playing it more carefully.

Hubby says something about the recession and something else that I do not hear about the economy as I finish my check-out.  The woman responds to him with some comment I miss and he looks at a loss for words.  I grab my bags of clothes and turn to leave as the woman leans in close to hubby's ear and says something to him in a low voice.

As we are leaving the store and out of her hearing, I ask him what she said.

He takes a deep breath, "When all the goodies are gone, just make sure you have your gun loaded and ready."

And yet, she had looked so absolutely normal.

Continuing with the Holidays

I have little to add this week as I am up to my eyes in Christmas wrapping paper and there seems to be various amounts of scotch tape in my hair that I cannot get out.  I have misplaced the scissors once again yet I know they are somewhere here on the floor where I am sitting under tags and ribbons and boxes.  I refuse to get up and look around, because at my age getting up off the floor requires and Act of Congress and I find it almost impossible to get back down again.

Speaking of Congress no one from there sent me a single Christmas card!  And I did send a number of those folks money this past year.  But I got a 'BUNCH' of cards from the White House--each time asking me for money and I thought my candidate of choice had won that election?  Anyway, I thought I would share two of my favorites that came in the mail.  No matter who is in office I always love their pets!

The Annual Visitor

There it sits with patience, or is it insolence, in a dark corner of the basement.  Plastic green sheeting with bright red handles protects it from dust and mice droppings.  Every year it gains weight.  What does it eat down here?  It has melded into its little corner with such fossilized determination and like a big fat dog it fights our every tug and pull to break it free from other large unidentifiable objects.

Finally it falls between us with a soft whoosh like a beached green whale just inches from our toes.  Hubby lifts the heavy end and I lift the other heavy end.  We both grunt and groan and wonder if we really want to do this.  Every year we put off the task until we reach a tipping point in time.  The lump gets bumped and dragged past the covered unused dining room table, past the antique doll house and over the threshold toward the stairs.  This is where we wipe our brows and put our courage to the sticking place.  At our age this could be a life or death decision.

With hands tightly grabbing canvas and stitched pulls we drag it ever so slowly over each wooden step up to the main floor using our (my) body weight to prevent it from running back down the stairs and taking me with it.  At the main level it is like a heavy dust mop as we pull it down the hallway.  It accordians various throw rugs until it reaches the designated place: the bay window.  This means we no longer have a place to eat breakfast.

We should feel successful at this juncture, but an even greater effort and struggle awaits us our expended energies.  We catch our breath.

Hidden in the dense plastic branches, there are green tips to match green holes, red tips to match red holes and black tips which are impossible to see to match anything.   Then buried deeper in the darkness of the plastic pine needles, there are numerous male and female plugs, so many that we have never been able to count them all.  One year long ago when I was determined I labeled them AA, BB, CC, DD.  We have never again found the DDs in the dense green.  There is one string of lights that no longer lights (perhaps related to the DDs) and we must add our own little string across that area.

After an hour in which we do not swear because it IS the holiday season, we have a perfectly symmetrical plastic tree in place.  It does not smell of pine, but smells of age and mildew, a perfect tree for old people.  We tweak the ends of various wire branches turned inward like the bowed head of a timid dog that has been subdued by its master and does not want to be here.  Then we decorate each branch in red and gold glass ornaments because it is an adult tree with sophistication and no whimsy as all the family ornaments have been given to the children now that they have their own homes. 

Once it is lit sharing all its glory we remember why we go through this every year.  It cleans up pretty good and so does my floor!

Action vs Reaction

Continuing on a theme from the prior post.

This is why (not really) that I no longer go to church.  I wonder what the parishioners' "helping the poor" programs are like, because in spite of their misinterpretation of that quote from the Bible, Jesus did preach that we help the poor.  Do they offer free gun training or free ammunition to poor families at Christmas?  It reminds me of the dorm at the Colorado University that was set aside this year for students who wanted to bring their guns to college.  Keeping a concealed weapon is so important to learning.  No one signed up, which gave me hope that we were not returning to the uncivilized wild west where we must be ready to defend ourselves daily using violence.  There are those who live in fear of almost everything and need to stock up on food, water, guns and prayer with the belief that victory goes to those who are prepared for the very worst.  There are those who feel there is a master plan of which we are a small part or if no master plan is unfolding, then we must accept that each day is an energy of events and we can control it to a small extent by the way we live our lives.  But the greater control we have is how we react over time to what happens to us.  You know which one I am.

Tis the Season to Blow a Kiss

Up to 57% Off Concealed-Handgun  -  Permit Class

"A bullet travels at hundreds of miles per hour, much like a beam of light or a kiss blown by Paul Bunyan. Work on your quick-draw skills with this Groupon."

( Found in my "Groupon" email this morning.)

Ticky, Tacky Taste.

(In a pink fog mood.)

So my cold decides to stay a  little longer and that means that bacteria bring trunks of stuff and move in to keep the cold company.  Therefore, I am now on antibiotics.  The cough has reduced in duration and size, but the medicine I am taking to move these hanger on cells has given me tummy rumbles that are not wise to endure in polite company.  I am staying under cover for a day or two more and have now finished both books that I was reading.  Hubby is gone to babysit while I am bored and turn to TV.

Some  of my choices are:

The Shopping Channel
Ink Masters
Storage Wars
Pit Bulls and Parolees
SurvivorMan
Celebratory Ghost Stories
Redneck Island
Deadly Women
Amish Out of Order


Honey Boo Boo doesn't come on until another time, so I didn't list it, and there are bunches of 'housewives and wh++es' shows that feature plastic/saline enhanced women wearing skin tight clothes who spend too much of their time drinking and shouting at each other in expensive restaurants...shows that only a very lost soul would consider entertainment.  Even at death's door I would not invite these people into my home. (And people think the Hunger Games is a fantasy.)  Many times I turn to BBC, Aljazeera or RT (Russia Today) or MHz network for a fresh air change in news and re-runs. 

Main stream shows are interspersed with tasteless ads about some beautiful celebrity using expensive perfume and then having men chase her through the rain soaked streets of some European city while her diamonds and clothes drip away.  The next ad is developed with great Christmas spirit when a handsome young man shows up at the Holiday decorated house of his well-to-do parents and goes looking for them while they sneak out the back door and steal his fancy new car and go on a road trip laughing as they get traction on the snow.  This ad may be followed by a family being persuaded to go on a holiday cruise by a sea shell.  Yes, a sea shell!  Perfume, cars, cruises...all of the things that families will be buying this year I am sure, the 2% at least.  We are so tasteless, tacky and tawdry sometimes that I am embarrassed for us. 

At least I have Bill Moyers on PBS and that dignified costume drama on BBC starting in a few weeks.

Do you think this time in our culture will go down as the lowest in years or am I just not aging well?

Bah? Is there a bug humming?

Still sitting here waiting for the departure of this cold.  It is a moving target.  Fever and scratchy throat and malaise have given way to chest congestion, cough, runny nose and grumpiness   Taking various PM drugs to sleep, but decided to try without last night and now realize that getting about 4 hours of sleep does not put me in the best mood.  (Don't you just hate when bloggers whine about their winter colds?)

Speaking of wine, even that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  I seem to be able to eat cookies and cupcakes rather easily, though.  And Lindt chocolate truffles go down without a whimper.  I am living in stretch pants this week.

I have finished my Holiday newsletter and will print up a batch and distribute them to one and all who might scan them before tossing them in the trash.  There are only so many news notes on travels and photos of darling grandchildren and brags about adult children that my friends and relatives are able to endure before pouring more bourbon in the eggnog and watching a rerun of Miracle on 34th Street, or National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation or the Muppet Christmas Carol while wrapping some odd shaped item that was on sale and will find its way into the back of a relative's crowded closet.

Yes, I am grumpy.  I am heading back up to those darling grandchildren to babysit once again this weekend...unless I find my illness does not go away.  Then it will be up hubby to hold up my end.  It is only the baby that needs to be watched as all four other members of the family have different social obligations on Saturday.  They have full calendars most days.  Hope the baby can keep up!  Below is the command center that was recently installed.

I have finished much of my holiday shopping for them, but it is a bit of a challenge.  Just a photo or two of my granddaughters room is an example of holiday shopping headaches for those who are grandparents to over-privileged children.  (For the longest time I shared a bedroom with my brother AND sister until I was a teenager!)

Yes it does look like someone threw up a strawberry milkshake in here and one can get a headache if staying too long!

Oh well, I do not want you to think that these over-privileged children are spoiled.  They do their chores somewhat faithfully and seem to get along with each other phenomenally well.  I am blessed and will be in a better mood to realize that when this damn cold departs!

Lazy

There is a hedonistic side of me that emerges more as I age.  I guiltily like being able to be lazy when I have justification.  For the past two days I have been sitting and watching TV.  There is little on day time television that is worth my valuable attention, so I spend time watching reruns of old favorite programs instead.  Then I go through my holiday photos that I took and sort them and later I begin the reading of the Anne of Green Gables series that I bought at the bookstore near the author's home on my summer trip to Prince Edward Island.  I have caught up on reading current blog posts but not reading the past posts.  "Why", my eager reader's might ask with the holiday season hot on our trail and a tree to be decorated and gifts to be wrapped, "am I being so lazy?"

Well, the weekend before my long Thanksgiving Day drive north, I spent babysitting my three grandchildren.  Naturally my lovely granddaughter had a nightmare and about 4:00 A.M. I heard the soft patter of feet and little child whimpers and then a tearful child was beside my bed crying from a nightmare.  I allowed the sharp kneed and elbowed girl into my bed and dried her tears and comforted her as we both attempted a speedy return to sleep which she succeeded in doing.  But unfortunately, my little grandchild was fighting a cold, sore throat, and mild fever at that time.  And she shared that with me.

My husband developed the cold symptoms first on the day after Thanksgiving and two days later I came down with the same cold symptoms.  My response is always worse than his, and even though I have been taking Zinc lozenges regularly, I still have symptoms and feel tired from lack of a good night's sleep.

But, because I am not super sick, I am kind of enjoying this gold-bricking excuse.  Tomorrow I will return to my lists, errands and duties.  But for today, I am being the grasshopper.

In the photos above we are driving in and out of a little of winter on our return from the north two days after Thanksgiving.
  

Thursday Thoughts 13-#38 Thankfully

I will be sharing Thanksgiving away from home and with my son's future in-laws whom I have only met twice.  It will be a long drive and a bit of an experience, but I am sure by the end of the day I will be thankful that I didn't have to cook, didn't have to hostess, didn't have to eat with just the two of us and didn't have to bite my tongue once over something not worth such behavior.

Thus I am thankful that:

1. The holiday catalogs that will fill my mailbox on my return are not overdue bills.
2. The candles I light tonight are for beauty and not because of lack of electricity.
3. The fire in my fireplace tonight before departure is not the only warmth in my house.
4. The clothes that I pack are well-worn but by me and not a stranger.
5. The long drive that I take will be to see friends and not to seek shelter.
6. The food I eat will not be the only warm food  I have had that day.
7. The stories I hear will be followed by laughter and not tears.
8. The photos I take will be for smiles and not for insurance assessments.
9. The tours I take will be to see places for the rehearsal dinner and not the damaged neighborhood.
10. The thing broken will be my diet promises to myself and not something rare that I loved.
11. The loss will be the passage of time but not whole days in my life.
12. The hugs I share with others will be for the future and not to forget the recent past. 
13. The thankfulness I give will be no less sincere than that of others on this planet.

Whether you celebrate Thanksgiving this week or an other time in your life, I wish you peace, understanding and forgiveness as you break bread with strangers and loved ones.

(posted early due to travel)

Peacefulness is Here

I did not grow up in a family that listened to music, either at home or on the radio.  I never heard my father or mother sing that I can remember.  I could not sing with a bucket over my head and my flute playing in junior high school was a struggle for us all.  But I was able after my children were grown and moving out of their teen years to listen to music on the radio that was not just popular or contemporary stuff.  I was able to focus on what certain types of  music did for me during my pauses in busy work days.

With no more college bills and reduced food bills at that time I was able to peruse music shops and buy a number of CDs from all genres.  Classical, broadway, international, jazz, folk and even some popular artists.  I today am listening to something called African Tapestries and it is filled with percussion that mimics the sounds of a lion, drum beats from some village, a flute that calls like the tropical birds and the sound of rain now and again.  It is as if I am sitting in some rainforest bamboo hut waiting for the storm to pass.  I have not converted these CD's to digital and may never spend the money to do that.  I also purchased an expensive sound system at the same time and have wallowed in this delightful decadence for years.

Regarding my prior political post, it was not removed because I felt I cannot speak my mind on issues.  I feel strongly about my liberal social values and my more moderate to conservative fiscal values as well.  You can ask any of my relatives and they will tell you I am no wallflower when it comes to controversy.  I am willing to listen to their side, and they must listen to mine.  But this blog was not created as a forum for that, so I try to keep away from going down that road.  My conservative readers are moderates, I really think, and do not need my lecturing.  My liberal readers will only agree with me in spades.  My moderate middle-of-the road readers can find their way better through factual research than my specific arguments.  So do not feel that I removed it out of fear of making someone angry, only out of realization that the conversation tends to be more one-sided in blogdom.  I do worry about those who think that politics U.S. is too far gone for their voice anymore.  Every citizen that throws in the towel is more dangerous than they know.

Good Morning

So sorry for the prior post and I wish to formally apologize.  I just felt my head was going to explode.  These past few months have been like being on a diet of bitter coffee forever waiting for the hot chocolate to get delivered.  There is a SMALL segment of our society (much like deeply conservative segments in other countries of the world) that want their way but since they cannot form intelligent arguments or ways to compromise to convince their populace they instead resort to violence, anger, and other stupid ideas.  I will be a very good girl, now and avoid writing about them and certainly avoid reading about them. (I deleted the post...did not want to give them immortality.)

That Canned Meat

I doubt it is just me, but I have suddenly been hit with spam comments on a daily basis to both of my blogs.  I have my blog set up where I do not require those posting comments to go through that annoying word verification window that is set up to prevent spam robots from leaving comments.  I hate this gatekeeper because it also prevents real people from commenting on others' blogs. I also have no restrictions on who can comment on my posts...no registration,  etc.   I do have an approval requirement that kicks in on comments to my posts that are over 7 days old and this is where the spam comments are being posted.

I mark these comments as spam so they never get published.  They are drug ads mostly...some clothing ads.  All of them annoying and clearly from non-English sources due to the bad grammar.

I do not want to implement that nasty word verification window that Blogger has created which is so hard to read that I sometimes try three times to get the code right when trying to place a comment on another blog.  After that, if I still have no success I just don't comment on the blog.  Most readers refuse to use the word verification at all.

At any rate, here is hoping we soon get a much reduce diet of that canned meat, SPAM!

Relations

It was the end of a long day in the garden for hubby as he put his beds to sleep for winter and a long day for me going through all of my office files and moving an ugly wooden file cabinet out of my bedroom and up the stairs into my little office on the stair landing.  We had moved all the patio furniture into the shelter of the porch and finished the process of getting it ready for winter.  We both were basking in the success of a well organized day. We had just stuffed ourselves on spaghetti Bolognese with a side of garden vegetables while we were waiting for NPR news to start on TV when hubby turned to me and leaning forward asked:

"Do you think you will treat grandchildren differently from your new daughter-in-law than you do for those from your daughter?"

I thought for a minute and realized that indeed I probably would.

I know my daughter intimately and while I allow her to raise her children as she wants, I do sometimes offer just a little advice when I think she needs guidance.  I also stretch the rules just a little when they are alone with me.  With my daughter-in-law, if they are lucky enough to have children, I will stand back more and wait for her actions to help me.  I already love her, but I only 'think' I know her.  She is very close to both her mother and her grandmother...my role will be much smaller.

I will live closer to them geographically, so I hope they feel free to call on us for babysitting and child-watching.  I feel strongly that is my biological role in life.  I cannot explain. but being a grandmother is a calling in my book.  I think it goes to the deep root of reproduction that is the core of most of us.

As I pondered on my husband's unusual question, I realized I had never given thought to how different these two families would be in my life.  I accept that our relationship with our children colors so many things that happen in their lives.  So tell me, if you have children of both sexes, who marry and have children of their own...does it make a difference in your relationship with the grandchildren?  I am not asking if you love more or less, that I know is stupid.  I am just asking about your philosophy in providing guidance to the children and interacting with them and their parents on a subtle and small scale.

Post Mortum

The results of this election have not really changed the egg shell mood of this country.  Deeply conservative people are angry and terrified.  ( I remember how I felt when George W. Bush was elected.  I was sure he was going to destroy this country or bring it to the edge of destruction with Chaney.  Guess what?)

I have talked to (former) friends who are so mad they are no longer going to vote.  Trying to reason with that logic is hard.  Fortunately, most of my friends are moderates...they are Republicans married to Democrats and Democrats married to Republicans and Independents not yet married, who realize that politics is an evolutionary model.  It swings to the left and then to the right and makes most of its slow progress in the middle with compromise.

While Trump was adamant that Obama was very secretive about his background, I was concerned with the fact that Romney deleted his emails and sold off servers and PCs to employees when he was governor of Massachusetts with the result that there was no information to send when freedom of information requests were filed to find out how he really governed that state.  I was concerned that he did not reveal his taxes.  If you want to be the Head of State I want to know everything about your finances and I think I have that right.  I did research Bain's success under the time of Romney and found that the huge majority of companies purchased were sold off and shut down.  Of those that Bain did help, only seven really became successful under Romney and only four continued in the black being able to carry the debt that Bain left them after he left.

But I also want to point out I am not happy about Obama's record on the environment.  Neither candidate even touched these issues due to the recession.  Clean air and clean water are too expensive these days. The Keystone pipeline will be completed under this president...but perhaps that is the least of our environmental issues. 

This President is pretty moderate by standards of years ago.

This article here (not really tongue in cheek) makes the case against a liberal president and shows you we are in moderate, if not totally conservative, hands.    Read it before the link disappears as they all do.