I’m disgusted. I noticed the other day that one of the families who lost a loved one at the Indiana State Fair last month is preparing to sue. This sparked my interest and I began to check out the situation. My conclusion was if ever something fell into the “act of God” category, this incident was it!
Let me explain. Last month, the band Sugarland was getting ready to perform to a very packed audience at the Indiana State Fair. Just as they were about to go on stage, the sky darkened ominously and a wind gust of close to 70mph began to blow. Literally, within seconds, the entire staging area collapsed! This was not your average small town fair staging. This was huge, tall, pro’s on the road staging! The video is horrifying!
I realized as I watched that it was nothing short of a miracle that only 5 people were killed. Reading more about it I found that I was right. The only reason that the band and crew were not on stage at the time was a manager who listened to her promptings and held them back for a few minutes. They were in a prayer circle when it happened. There is no doubt that they all would have been killed had they been on stage as they were supposed to be.
It is heartwarming to watch the video and see so many rush to the collapse to help those caught underneath. Above the storm still rages, bolts of lightning flashing above their heads as they grab hold of the metal staging with apparently no fear for their own lives.
To win such a lawsuit, negligence must be proved. There is an allowance for the unforeseen “acts of God” as it is called. As I stated earlier, this is obviously one of those times. What a contrast between the “heroes” who helped and those who would wish to profit from such an unfortunate event.
Everyone handles grief differently. No one who was a personal witness to this calamity will ever forget it. It has been seared into their memory forever. Some will carry scars both physical and emotional for the rest of their lives. A lawsuit keeps those scars and memories alive and hurting. It will increase the pain and anger that grief brings. It does NOT bring healing.
And it is a lousy way to keep the memory of a loved one alive. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, September 16, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
9/11 memories
My 9/11 memories are very similar to others. Shock, pain, sorrow, grief, anger and miracles are among them. For me, that day changed life as I had known it and catapulted me into an unexpected and unseen future. I, too, lost loved ones….. not to the fiery deaths of so many that day but to the evil and indifference that had caused those deaths.
The morning started as usual getting children ready for school. For some still unknown reason, one of them had turned on the television. It was not hooked up to anything but a VCR. We never received a channel. That day, however, the local FOX station was coming in clearly. I told someone to shut it off.
“Mom, you’ve got to come see this- we’ve been bombed!”??? I thought. I stepped into the living room just in time to witness the falling of the second tower. “Oh, dear God, help them!” I muttered. We watched for a few moments then I gathered my children together to pray for all those in New York. Then they headed off to school.
I watched a few more minutes before I woke my husband. “You have to come see this. We are at war!” He stumbled out, watched for about ten minutes, told me not to bother him again and headed back to bed. I realized that working 2nd shift was taking its toll but I could not believe his indifference to this monumentus event. That indifference did not change over that week or ever.
I spent the day in front of the TV, crying, praying, wondering, as did so many others. My children, too, had all had coverage on in their classrooms. We watched as flights were canceled. We watched as coverage included D.C and Pennsylvania. We watched for three days until the TV stopped receiving just as unexpectedly as it had begun.
I called my family all over the US. They called me. Late in the day, we finally made contact and reassured each other. My husband, at no time, showed interest in any of this. It was at that time I realized that the underlying feelings of disconnection I had been feeling for so long were real. He was no longer part of our family.
Within three months he left but not until he had dropped a few very destructive bombs of his own. One such bomb found me coming home with a carload of kids and groceries only to be met by two police officers. They informed me that I had fifteen supervised minutes to pack my things and leave the premises. Apparently, my husband had spent the day in court convincing a judge that I was a danger so he could get a restraining order against me!! There was no history, police or otherwise, and I was completely shocked that he was able to do this!
I threw some things in a Wal-Mart bag trying hard to think. My children were crying, screaming and one actually assaulted her dad. I gathered them in my arms for ten of the fifteen moments trying to assure them that everything was alright. We prayed and I left.
I had no where to go and no money to get there! Friends and family pitched in. This lasted for one week. He gave up when he realized that he couldn’t go to work AND take care of a houseful of hostile children including a devastated one year old. It went down hill from there and now, ten years later, the battle is still raging even though I have removed myself from it.
The events of 9/11 changed us as Americans. We felt vulnerable in ways we never had before. We also felt empowered- no one will ever do that again- we will not allow it! I have been through my own war, I, too, feel vulnerable but after all is said and done, I have been empowered, also. It will never happen again!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
The morning started as usual getting children ready for school. For some still unknown reason, one of them had turned on the television. It was not hooked up to anything but a VCR. We never received a channel. That day, however, the local FOX station was coming in clearly. I told someone to shut it off.
“Mom, you’ve got to come see this- we’ve been bombed!”??? I thought. I stepped into the living room just in time to witness the falling of the second tower. “Oh, dear God, help them!” I muttered. We watched for a few moments then I gathered my children together to pray for all those in New York. Then they headed off to school.
I watched a few more minutes before I woke my husband. “You have to come see this. We are at war!” He stumbled out, watched for about ten minutes, told me not to bother him again and headed back to bed. I realized that working 2nd shift was taking its toll but I could not believe his indifference to this monumentus event. That indifference did not change over that week or ever.
I spent the day in front of the TV, crying, praying, wondering, as did so many others. My children, too, had all had coverage on in their classrooms. We watched as flights were canceled. We watched as coverage included D.C and Pennsylvania. We watched for three days until the TV stopped receiving just as unexpectedly as it had begun.
I called my family all over the US. They called me. Late in the day, we finally made contact and reassured each other. My husband, at no time, showed interest in any of this. It was at that time I realized that the underlying feelings of disconnection I had been feeling for so long were real. He was no longer part of our family.
Within three months he left but not until he had dropped a few very destructive bombs of his own. One such bomb found me coming home with a carload of kids and groceries only to be met by two police officers. They informed me that I had fifteen supervised minutes to pack my things and leave the premises. Apparently, my husband had spent the day in court convincing a judge that I was a danger so he could get a restraining order against me!! There was no history, police or otherwise, and I was completely shocked that he was able to do this!
I threw some things in a Wal-Mart bag trying hard to think. My children were crying, screaming and one actually assaulted her dad. I gathered them in my arms for ten of the fifteen moments trying to assure them that everything was alright. We prayed and I left.
I had no where to go and no money to get there! Friends and family pitched in. This lasted for one week. He gave up when he realized that he couldn’t go to work AND take care of a houseful of hostile children including a devastated one year old. It went down hill from there and now, ten years later, the battle is still raging even though I have removed myself from it.
The events of 9/11 changed us as Americans. We felt vulnerable in ways we never had before. We also felt empowered- no one will ever do that again- we will not allow it! I have been through my own war, I, too, feel vulnerable but after all is said and done, I have been empowered, also. It will never happen again!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, September 12, 2011
Calm Down Pills
As many of you know, I am a transplant from the northeastern part of the United States. I now live in the West. One of the things that surprised me was the attitude towards health care. Maybe it was just the people that I knew back home but we as patients were very involved with our own health. We researched our symptoms before seeing a doctor. We researched our diagnosis and prescriptions after we had seen a doctor.
Each new doctor I see has the unpleasant task of learning that about me. I should say here that as I get older and the doctors get younger it gets a little easier. They seem to enjoy that I know what I’m talking about. By the way, I used to hate being thoroughly examined by a doctor who was the same age as my husband. It gets much harder when the doctor is the same age as your son!
This past year, I was suffering a multitude of symptoms. Because of my fibromyalgia and being of menopausal age, the blame was placed squarely on them. As symptoms worsened, I realized that more was going on. I began researching. I went to my next appointment with a list of symptoms and the diagnosis that fit- low thyroid activity. He was impressed, did the test and yes, my thyroid was whacky.
I share this as a preface to my next story. This was a time that I did not do the research! I was in the middle of some very heavy emotional stuff. It was coming at me in several directions. My doctor suggested a tiny pill called “Xanax”. He told me that it was a “calm down” pill given most often to people who are afraid of flying to help them through the flight. It sounded reasonable. At the time, I had never heard of it before.
I had a particularly hard court appearance to make. I was a wreck. I took a couple. During the procedure, my lawyer kept telling me to calm down. Okay, I thought, I must not have taken enough. I took another. I became more agitated. Each time my lawyer whispered, “Calm down!” I took another tiny white pill. By the time the procedure was over, I wasn’t sure who or where I was.
Have you ever seen the movie “Six Days and Nights”? The plane is flying through a storm and Anne Heche is taking pills. Those were the same pills! Remember how she was acting? YUP! My lawyer was furious, my husband confused and I stumbled to the car to pass out!
My next appointment I asked about the pills. I was told that they have the same effect as alcohol!! Thanks a lot!! This I should have known, don’t you think? More is definitely not better. And alcohol, when I drank it thirty-something years ago did NOT have a calming effect. Quite the opposite!!
I threw them away. Now, I understand that particular medicine is one of the hottest drugs on the street. I can see why! Lesson learned- NEVER put something in your body that you don’t know anything about!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Each new doctor I see has the unpleasant task of learning that about me. I should say here that as I get older and the doctors get younger it gets a little easier. They seem to enjoy that I know what I’m talking about. By the way, I used to hate being thoroughly examined by a doctor who was the same age as my husband. It gets much harder when the doctor is the same age as your son!
This past year, I was suffering a multitude of symptoms. Because of my fibromyalgia and being of menopausal age, the blame was placed squarely on them. As symptoms worsened, I realized that more was going on. I began researching. I went to my next appointment with a list of symptoms and the diagnosis that fit- low thyroid activity. He was impressed, did the test and yes, my thyroid was whacky.
I share this as a preface to my next story. This was a time that I did not do the research! I was in the middle of some very heavy emotional stuff. It was coming at me in several directions. My doctor suggested a tiny pill called “Xanax”. He told me that it was a “calm down” pill given most often to people who are afraid of flying to help them through the flight. It sounded reasonable. At the time, I had never heard of it before.
I had a particularly hard court appearance to make. I was a wreck. I took a couple. During the procedure, my lawyer kept telling me to calm down. Okay, I thought, I must not have taken enough. I took another. I became more agitated. Each time my lawyer whispered, “Calm down!” I took another tiny white pill. By the time the procedure was over, I wasn’t sure who or where I was.
Have you ever seen the movie “Six Days and Nights”? The plane is flying through a storm and Anne Heche is taking pills. Those were the same pills! Remember how she was acting? YUP! My lawyer was furious, my husband confused and I stumbled to the car to pass out!
My next appointment I asked about the pills. I was told that they have the same effect as alcohol!! Thanks a lot!! This I should have known, don’t you think? More is definitely not better. And alcohol, when I drank it thirty-something years ago did NOT have a calming effect. Quite the opposite!!
I threw them away. Now, I understand that particular medicine is one of the hottest drugs on the street. I can see why! Lesson learned- NEVER put something in your body that you don’t know anything about!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
To moan or not to moan?
I am speaking up today for all those men, women and children in the world who try to make the best of a bad situation. Those of us who have embraced life with all its pitfalls and just DEAL! I’m sure that you are as sick as I am of the people who assume that whatever it is you are dealing with can’t be that bad because you are not whining, complaining, staying in bed, etc.
And maybe you are a little fed up with those around you who are NOT dealing so they get all the sympathy because they ARE whining, complaining, staying in bed, etc. We wouldn’t want to be like that for anything but wouldn’t it be nice to have your Herculean efforts noticed just once in awhile?
For instance, I have fibromyalgia. I have had it for years but it was diagnosed about 8 years ago. This means that on a good day, I feel like a giant toothache. On a bad day, I feel as if I had just run a marathon, my muscles burn. On a really bad day parts of my body refuse to work. It figures that much pain must be causing damage.
So far, there are no cures for fibro. I know that I will have to live with it for the rest of my life. I do not want it to have more control over my life than it already does so I have worked hard at controlling it. This has meant some lifestyle changes. I watch what I eat and drink. I exercise regularly. Since emotions and stress can greatly affect my pain level I have learned new coping skills.
I take pain medication sparingly because I know that our bodies become accustomed to them. Over time it takes more and more to have an effect. I force myself to be active at times. I also force myself to do nothing when recharging is needed. I have remained fairly active and most people don’t know I have this problem.
But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say about another with the same problem- “So and so has fibromyalgia too. She has it really bad!” This because they went to bed and stayed there when they were diagnosed!
Another case in point, my ex-husband during the labor of our 9th child, listening to a woman in the next room moaning and screaming- “What the hell is the matter with her?!!”
So this is to all you non- woosies in the world- I feel your pain-literally! I think there is a special blessing in Heaven for us, don’t you? That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
And maybe you are a little fed up with those around you who are NOT dealing so they get all the sympathy because they ARE whining, complaining, staying in bed, etc. We wouldn’t want to be like that for anything but wouldn’t it be nice to have your Herculean efforts noticed just once in awhile?
For instance, I have fibromyalgia. I have had it for years but it was diagnosed about 8 years ago. This means that on a good day, I feel like a giant toothache. On a bad day, I feel as if I had just run a marathon, my muscles burn. On a really bad day parts of my body refuse to work. It figures that much pain must be causing damage.
So far, there are no cures for fibro. I know that I will have to live with it for the rest of my life. I do not want it to have more control over my life than it already does so I have worked hard at controlling it. This has meant some lifestyle changes. I watch what I eat and drink. I exercise regularly. Since emotions and stress can greatly affect my pain level I have learned new coping skills.
I take pain medication sparingly because I know that our bodies become accustomed to them. Over time it takes more and more to have an effect. I force myself to be active at times. I also force myself to do nothing when recharging is needed. I have remained fairly active and most people don’t know I have this problem.
But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say about another with the same problem- “So and so has fibromyalgia too. She has it really bad!” This because they went to bed and stayed there when they were diagnosed!
Another case in point, my ex-husband during the labor of our 9th child, listening to a woman in the next room moaning and screaming- “What the hell is the matter with her?!!”
So this is to all you non- woosies in the world- I feel your pain-literally! I think there is a special blessing in Heaven for us, don’t you? That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The weed of pornography
There is a weed growing in several of my flower beds. My husband calls it a Morning Glory but it is very different from the Morning Glories I remember back east. He told me to kill every bit I could find but I found this difficult to do. It is a vine plant, needs little attention and can be quite pretty. I preferred to call it a wild flower and let it do its thing.
As usual, my husband was right and I was wrong. This pretty little plant is a killer! It is not content to grow on the trellis’s I put up. It is not content to be ground cover in my bare spots. It is not content to stay in the container I placed it in. No, it is not content with anything short of choking out the life of every other living thing growing around it!
It is by far the sneakiest of plants. It sends it’s feelers under the ground until it finds living roots. It then comes out with the other plants own growth and winds itself around and around. The speed with which it can appear and destroy is scary. One day it is not evident. The next day finds it already entangled. Sometimes it is impossible to pull out without destroying the plant it has attached itself to.
We have a weed like this in our society today. It is called pornography. Its influence starts out small and seemingly harmless but it is not! Like the weed in my flower beds it spreads and spreads attaching itself to all areas of life until it chokes out the life of those who have become involved in it. Please listen to me- NO pornography is okay!!
I have watched families be destroyed by this weed including my own. I didn’t know what was happening. My family, my marriage, my spouse were all being choked by this life sucking weed. I saw the destruction but because the weed was spreading and growing under the surface I had no idea what the real causes were.
I was naïve about many things. The symptoms were all around me but I didn’t know the disease. It was only after the destruction was complete that it reared its ugly head and revealed itself. It has taken me several years to even understand it all and to finally recognize it for what it truly was.
A few years after my divorce, I was staying in a motel by myself. As I flipped thru the channels I was shocked to find an actual porn channel!! I had never seen anything stronger than Playboy. I watched for a few minutes- YUCCHH!! But thru the evening I flipped to it again and again for a few minutes to see if it was all the same. It basically was. It answered a lot of my questions about things I didn’t understand in my family especially the huge lack of respect for womanhood.
And I realized this- pornography is like a real loving sexual relationship the way that WWF wrestling is like the Olympics- in other words, IT’S NOT REAL!!!! It is fake and overacted and empty! If you base your relationship on what you learned from porn you are missing the whole boat!
Please…please…please..if you are letting this weed grow in your life, GET RID OF IT!! It will choke out everything that’s good in your self and in your life. Please believe me- I know!!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
As usual, my husband was right and I was wrong. This pretty little plant is a killer! It is not content to grow on the trellis’s I put up. It is not content to be ground cover in my bare spots. It is not content to stay in the container I placed it in. No, it is not content with anything short of choking out the life of every other living thing growing around it!
It is by far the sneakiest of plants. It sends it’s feelers under the ground until it finds living roots. It then comes out with the other plants own growth and winds itself around and around. The speed with which it can appear and destroy is scary. One day it is not evident. The next day finds it already entangled. Sometimes it is impossible to pull out without destroying the plant it has attached itself to.
We have a weed like this in our society today. It is called pornography. Its influence starts out small and seemingly harmless but it is not! Like the weed in my flower beds it spreads and spreads attaching itself to all areas of life until it chokes out the life of those who have become involved in it. Please listen to me- NO pornography is okay!!
I have watched families be destroyed by this weed including my own. I didn’t know what was happening. My family, my marriage, my spouse were all being choked by this life sucking weed. I saw the destruction but because the weed was spreading and growing under the surface I had no idea what the real causes were.
I was naïve about many things. The symptoms were all around me but I didn’t know the disease. It was only after the destruction was complete that it reared its ugly head and revealed itself. It has taken me several years to even understand it all and to finally recognize it for what it truly was.
A few years after my divorce, I was staying in a motel by myself. As I flipped thru the channels I was shocked to find an actual porn channel!! I had never seen anything stronger than Playboy. I watched for a few minutes- YUCCHH!! But thru the evening I flipped to it again and again for a few minutes to see if it was all the same. It basically was. It answered a lot of my questions about things I didn’t understand in my family especially the huge lack of respect for womanhood.
And I realized this- pornography is like a real loving sexual relationship the way that WWF wrestling is like the Olympics- in other words, IT’S NOT REAL!!!! It is fake and overacted and empty! If you base your relationship on what you learned from porn you are missing the whole boat!
Please…please…please..if you are letting this weed grow in your life, GET RID OF IT!! It will choke out everything that’s good in your self and in your life. Please believe me- I know!!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Weaving Webs
A few days ago in the big town that is closest to us there was an incident. We don’t have incidents much in our neck of the woods so it’s always news. This particular incident seemed newsworthy to me if only because of the stupidity involved. I’m still shaking my head in disbelief!
A 29 year old man was picking up a few things at a corner store. For reasons unknown at this time, he chose not to pay for these items. The value was just under $20. That’s a minor shoplifting charge.
He exited the building, jumped into a pickup that was not his and took off heading for the freeway and a way out of town. Now, he’s looking at shoplifting AND a grand theft auto charge.
Two policemen catch up to him. He takes off even faster leading them in a high speed pursuit. Shoplifting, grand theft auto AND evading police. They try to get around him. He rams into both police cars. Shoplifting, grand theft auto, evading capture AND two attempted murder charges!!!
They did catch him. But I’m trying hard to comprehend the reasoning (or lack of) that took place in this person’s brain. Do the math! He is looking at spending the next 30 years in prison for less than twenty dollars- WHY???
I know the argument- he wasn’t thinking- he was probably tanked on something, etc. etc. But I see it as a symptom of the world we live in. So many of us make a small mistake and instead of claiming responsibility and paying for it, we go to extremes to cover it up. It is more important for us to “get away” with it than to just own up. The results are the same. The ending price is much, much higher than if we had taken care of it in the first place
You know- “What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive”. That applies to ALL dishonesty. What huge burdens of guilt are we carrying around? In the long run wouldn’t it be easier to put the burden down by unweaving the web and fixing the original mistake? I think so.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
A 29 year old man was picking up a few things at a corner store. For reasons unknown at this time, he chose not to pay for these items. The value was just under $20. That’s a minor shoplifting charge.
He exited the building, jumped into a pickup that was not his and took off heading for the freeway and a way out of town. Now, he’s looking at shoplifting AND a grand theft auto charge.
Two policemen catch up to him. He takes off even faster leading them in a high speed pursuit. Shoplifting, grand theft auto AND evading police. They try to get around him. He rams into both police cars. Shoplifting, grand theft auto, evading capture AND two attempted murder charges!!!
They did catch him. But I’m trying hard to comprehend the reasoning (or lack of) that took place in this person’s brain. Do the math! He is looking at spending the next 30 years in prison for less than twenty dollars- WHY???
I know the argument- he wasn’t thinking- he was probably tanked on something, etc. etc. But I see it as a symptom of the world we live in. So many of us make a small mistake and instead of claiming responsibility and paying for it, we go to extremes to cover it up. It is more important for us to “get away” with it than to just own up. The results are the same. The ending price is much, much higher than if we had taken care of it in the first place
You know- “What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive”. That applies to ALL dishonesty. What huge burdens of guilt are we carrying around? In the long run wouldn’t it be easier to put the burden down by unweaving the web and fixing the original mistake? I think so.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, August 29, 2011
Chicken Run
I’m more than a little embarrassed to share the following story with you. I , who is known as the ultimate animal person, must admit that I had forgotten an important lesson. It had to be taught to me all over again. It is the lesson of love and patience.
It all started several weeks ago when one of our hens began to get “broody.” This means she started getting possessive about her eggs and not only her eggs but others as well. She claimed a nest for her very own, refusing to budge, even for me to gather the eggs.
She started with pecking at my hand when I tried to slip under her to pull out the eggs. Then she made a lot of noisy complaints and began to peck at my arm as soon as I was close. One day, she pecked me hard and I dropped the eggs. At this point, I was pissed! My arm hurt and the broken eggs were running down my legs.
So, contrary to everything I know to be right and true- I engaged in warfare with this chicken. She squawked, I squawked louder. She ruffled her feathers to appear bigger, I stood towering over her. She got in my face, I got in hers. We had a few knock down, drag out fights with both of us trying to out ruffle and out squawk each other.
This went on for about ten days. Each day the battle escalated. She started to attack the other chickens that were allowing me to reach under them. I began to use a shield to back her off the nest. I began making plans to execute her to end the problem once and for all. My husband thought it was funny until he tried to gather the eggs one night!
So one morning I lay in bed hating this hen and dreading the idea of chores that morning. While reviewing the past weeks events in my mind I realized suddenly (and to my shame) that there WAS one thing I hadn’t tried. I hadn’t tried to be nice. I was so pissed about her rotten attitude that I had completely ignored my own. I felt like an idiot.
That morning, I talked softly to her, being careful to move slowly and appear non-threatening. I used my shield but I used it matter of factly not angrily. She didn’t know what to do! I have continued to treat her gently and like a friend. She still doesn’t like me taking the eggs but the fight is gone. All is quiet on the western front and in my henhouse.
This principle works with people as well. I know it does. I’ve seen it so many times. Jesus said “Love your enemy”. Our grandparents said, “You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” Take your choice. The fact is that kindness ALWAYS works better than anger.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
It all started several weeks ago when one of our hens began to get “broody.” This means she started getting possessive about her eggs and not only her eggs but others as well. She claimed a nest for her very own, refusing to budge, even for me to gather the eggs.
She started with pecking at my hand when I tried to slip under her to pull out the eggs. Then she made a lot of noisy complaints and began to peck at my arm as soon as I was close. One day, she pecked me hard and I dropped the eggs. At this point, I was pissed! My arm hurt and the broken eggs were running down my legs.
So, contrary to everything I know to be right and true- I engaged in warfare with this chicken. She squawked, I squawked louder. She ruffled her feathers to appear bigger, I stood towering over her. She got in my face, I got in hers. We had a few knock down, drag out fights with both of us trying to out ruffle and out squawk each other.
This went on for about ten days. Each day the battle escalated. She started to attack the other chickens that were allowing me to reach under them. I began to use a shield to back her off the nest. I began making plans to execute her to end the problem once and for all. My husband thought it was funny until he tried to gather the eggs one night!
So one morning I lay in bed hating this hen and dreading the idea of chores that morning. While reviewing the past weeks events in my mind I realized suddenly (and to my shame) that there WAS one thing I hadn’t tried. I hadn’t tried to be nice. I was so pissed about her rotten attitude that I had completely ignored my own. I felt like an idiot.
That morning, I talked softly to her, being careful to move slowly and appear non-threatening. I used my shield but I used it matter of factly not angrily. She didn’t know what to do! I have continued to treat her gently and like a friend. She still doesn’t like me taking the eggs but the fight is gone. All is quiet on the western front and in my henhouse.
This principle works with people as well. I know it does. I’ve seen it so many times. Jesus said “Love your enemy”. Our grandparents said, “You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” Take your choice. The fact is that kindness ALWAYS works better than anger.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, August 26, 2011
WHAT???
An older friend of mine was sent a invite from a prominent hearing aid company. It wasn’t exactly a scam as it was a very complex marketing technique but to the unsuspecting it sure can feel like one. This invite was for “free” hearing tests and some great deal on the hearing aids.
This couple both know that they are have problems hearing. My friend told me, “We sit in front of the TV at night asking each other- what did they say?” So they went prepared to accept the deal for one of them and pay for the other.
They made the appointment and did the testing. Yes, they both need hearing aids. The next part was the shocker. My friend says she couldn’t get over how the man looked straight into her face and said without a blink, “Your devices will cost $4500.” !!!!!!!! That was just for hers!!!
They managed to get out of the office and into the car before she blurted to her husband, “There’s nothing I want to hear that badly. You better get used to yelling, dear.”
When she shared the story with me, I was equally shocked at the high price tag. I told her that an antique ear trumpet only cost a few hundred. I decided I’ll just carry a pad of paper and pen around with me as my hearing gets worse. That might help my memory, too.
We have computers that can do everything but the dishes for less than $1000. How can tiny radio type devices cost so much? I’m thinking it’s because the young brilliant people haven’t realized the need. It’s only us older not so brilliant people that see it but we still have problems with programming our TV’s and phones.
I’m in hopes that some brilliant young college student reads this and decides to be the one that invents the next big, new, thing and revolutionizes the hearing aid industry. Or maybe it’s already been invented but isn’t being utilized yet. Either way I can’t believe that in a day and age with such amazing technology this is still even an issue.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
This couple both know that they are have problems hearing. My friend told me, “We sit in front of the TV at night asking each other- what did they say?” So they went prepared to accept the deal for one of them and pay for the other.
They made the appointment and did the testing. Yes, they both need hearing aids. The next part was the shocker. My friend says she couldn’t get over how the man looked straight into her face and said without a blink, “Your devices will cost $4500.” !!!!!!!! That was just for hers!!!
They managed to get out of the office and into the car before she blurted to her husband, “There’s nothing I want to hear that badly. You better get used to yelling, dear.”
When she shared the story with me, I was equally shocked at the high price tag. I told her that an antique ear trumpet only cost a few hundred. I decided I’ll just carry a pad of paper and pen around with me as my hearing gets worse. That might help my memory, too.
We have computers that can do everything but the dishes for less than $1000. How can tiny radio type devices cost so much? I’m thinking it’s because the young brilliant people haven’t realized the need. It’s only us older not so brilliant people that see it but we still have problems with programming our TV’s and phones.
I’m in hopes that some brilliant young college student reads this and decides to be the one that invents the next big, new, thing and revolutionizes the hearing aid industry. Or maybe it’s already been invented but isn’t being utilized yet. Either way I can’t believe that in a day and age with such amazing technology this is still even an issue.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, August 22, 2011
My Song
One fine summer evening, a young couple took their 5 year old son to a piano concert. He was learning to play piano and he loved it. Featured at this concert was a Master pianist. While waiting for the concert to start, the young boy disappeared. The parents began to search frantically when a familiar sound met their ears. It was the tune to “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” being played on the magnificent concert piano. They had found their son!
Chagrined, they headed for the stage to remove him. Before they could reach him the Master pianist came on the stage. He leaned over the boy and whispered, “Keep on playing”. He then reached for the keys and added his music to that of the small boy’s. The result brought tears to many in the audience. The sweet simple tune blended with the more complex music the Master was playing to create something beautiful and unique.
There are days and sometimes whole weeks when I tire of my little song. I want to do so much more. I want to be so much more. Sometimes I just want the pain of life to stop. I want to see success instead of failure. I want my song to be sung to the ends of the earth. And yet, I realize that my song is still too simple, too ordinary.
But I want to state right here, right now, that I KNOW there is a Master leaning over me. He adds to my simple song the fullness and richness that I lack. He fills in the gaps and hesitations. The music rises in perfect crescendos when needed. It falls into perfect silences at times so that I may hear my own song.
I know that my song played along with the Master’s is something beautiful and unique. I also know that your song is too. I hope and pray that you feel the Master behind you, that you feel his arms around you. Can you hear the incredible music you are making together? It’s there, all around you. Take a moment this week to stop and listen to it. It is awesome!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Chagrined, they headed for the stage to remove him. Before they could reach him the Master pianist came on the stage. He leaned over the boy and whispered, “Keep on playing”. He then reached for the keys and added his music to that of the small boy’s. The result brought tears to many in the audience. The sweet simple tune blended with the more complex music the Master was playing to create something beautiful and unique.
There are days and sometimes whole weeks when I tire of my little song. I want to do so much more. I want to be so much more. Sometimes I just want the pain of life to stop. I want to see success instead of failure. I want my song to be sung to the ends of the earth. And yet, I realize that my song is still too simple, too ordinary.
But I want to state right here, right now, that I KNOW there is a Master leaning over me. He adds to my simple song the fullness and richness that I lack. He fills in the gaps and hesitations. The music rises in perfect crescendos when needed. It falls into perfect silences at times so that I may hear my own song.
I know that my song played along with the Master’s is something beautiful and unique. I also know that your song is too. I hope and pray that you feel the Master behind you, that you feel his arms around you. Can you hear the incredible music you are making together? It’s there, all around you. Take a moment this week to stop and listen to it. It is awesome!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, August 19, 2011
Ink City
I took a trip to the “Big City” today. Actually, I’d like to call it Babylon. I realize that I am very sheltered on my small farm in my small town but I mean, really? I feel as if I visited another planet! Even my husband, who goes out among the natives every day was feeling it.
The first thing we noticed was the number of people sporting tattoos. And not just cute little tattoos. We are talking about whole arms, chests, backs or legs being covered with multiple markings. We estimated 80% of the shoppers were inked. We even saw a small baby with an arm tattoo. We are hoping it was fake but both parents were covered so what are the chances? Does anyone know if that’s even legal?
Now, I don’t have a thing against tattoos themselves although I’m not sure they are healthy. I also know what they look like when bodies age. It does concern me, however, that they are permanent and fads are not. What shocked me was the sheer number and size of them. The tattoo trend started out with the desire to be “different” as most fads do. And just as most trends it has ended up with everyone looking the same.
I have seen a few large tattoos that are works of art. One young man I saw once had the characters from “Lord of the Rings” entwined together on his arm. It was beautiful. I would have loved to see it on a canvas rather than an arm.
But most people don’t have a natural sense of style. So many of the markings I saw today looked cluttered and too busy. It was hard to know what to look at- the tats drew attention from the clothing being worn and definitely from the person sporting them.
It is hard to notice a beautiful face or body or hair or eyes when a dozen or more tattoos are clamoring for attention! And what happens when the tattoo craze is over? A whole generation is marked for life.
It all reminded me of a Dr.Suess book I used to read to my children. There were some creatures with star shaped belly buttons and some without. Those with the stars thought they were better than those without. Of course, those without were miserable.
Along came a clever person who had invented a machine that could make star belly buttons. Happy day!! All the no star bellies paid him to get new star bellies. That made the star bellies mad. They paid him to have theirs removed. Then the others had theirs removed. Then they all paid to have them put back on again. This went on for days until they were all broke and nobody could remember what their original belly buttons looked like.
The only winner in this story was the man with the machine. Oh, yeah, I have seen a billboard offering laser tattoo removals. Uncanny, don’t you think? I guess good old Dr.Suess knew what he was talking about. I wonder how much money is going to be spent getting inked and then getting uninked? Way too much I’m sure!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
The first thing we noticed was the number of people sporting tattoos. And not just cute little tattoos. We are talking about whole arms, chests, backs or legs being covered with multiple markings. We estimated 80% of the shoppers were inked. We even saw a small baby with an arm tattoo. We are hoping it was fake but both parents were covered so what are the chances? Does anyone know if that’s even legal?
Now, I don’t have a thing against tattoos themselves although I’m not sure they are healthy. I also know what they look like when bodies age. It does concern me, however, that they are permanent and fads are not. What shocked me was the sheer number and size of them. The tattoo trend started out with the desire to be “different” as most fads do. And just as most trends it has ended up with everyone looking the same.
I have seen a few large tattoos that are works of art. One young man I saw once had the characters from “Lord of the Rings” entwined together on his arm. It was beautiful. I would have loved to see it on a canvas rather than an arm.
But most people don’t have a natural sense of style. So many of the markings I saw today looked cluttered and too busy. It was hard to know what to look at- the tats drew attention from the clothing being worn and definitely from the person sporting them.
It is hard to notice a beautiful face or body or hair or eyes when a dozen or more tattoos are clamoring for attention! And what happens when the tattoo craze is over? A whole generation is marked for life.
It all reminded me of a Dr.Suess book I used to read to my children. There were some creatures with star shaped belly buttons and some without. Those with the stars thought they were better than those without. Of course, those without were miserable.
Along came a clever person who had invented a machine that could make star belly buttons. Happy day!! All the no star bellies paid him to get new star bellies. That made the star bellies mad. They paid him to have theirs removed. Then the others had theirs removed. Then they all paid to have them put back on again. This went on for days until they were all broke and nobody could remember what their original belly buttons looked like.
The only winner in this story was the man with the machine. Oh, yeah, I have seen a billboard offering laser tattoo removals. Uncanny, don’t you think? I guess good old Dr.Suess knew what he was talking about. I wonder how much money is going to be spent getting inked and then getting uninked? Way too much I’m sure!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Judgements
We all know the story about Jesus walking on water. He was walking from the shore to the ship that awaited him. The sea was choppy and the wind blew hard. As he neared the boat, Peter climbed overboard and began walking towards Jesus. He became fearful after a few steps and began to sink.
Much attention is given to the fact that he lost his faith and sank. Many sermons have been given on this subject. But not much is ever said about the facts that I think are important. Peter climbed over the railing of the boat, he stepped into stormy seas and he actually walked on the water for a few steps! How many of us could have done that much?
There were others on that boat. Did any of them climb the rail? Did any of them risk all to attempt the impossible? No. They stayed on board, safe and dry. But Peter wanted to walk on water. He made the effort. He risked everything to make that attempt. Yes, he failed. But isn’t it remarkable that he even tried?
I was reminded of this on a recent road trip with some of my children. One of my teenagers was very vocal about what she perceived to be my past failures and bad choices. Of course, most of her information came from her father. It was one sided at best. I pointed out that there are always two sides to every story and usually both of those sides are a little warped.
But as I pondered on the things she had said I realized that her focus was on what she thought were my failures. She had no concept of the efforts, circumstances or atmosphere surrounding each of my “failures”. She is too young to know of the blood, sweat and tears that accompanied these events.
And I came to understand more deeply the instructions to “judge not”. Only God can know all the circumstances. Only God can know the intentions in a person’s heart. Only God can make a true judgment. He knows what it took to climb out of the boat.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Much attention is given to the fact that he lost his faith and sank. Many sermons have been given on this subject. But not much is ever said about the facts that I think are important. Peter climbed over the railing of the boat, he stepped into stormy seas and he actually walked on the water for a few steps! How many of us could have done that much?
There were others on that boat. Did any of them climb the rail? Did any of them risk all to attempt the impossible? No. They stayed on board, safe and dry. But Peter wanted to walk on water. He made the effort. He risked everything to make that attempt. Yes, he failed. But isn’t it remarkable that he even tried?
I was reminded of this on a recent road trip with some of my children. One of my teenagers was very vocal about what she perceived to be my past failures and bad choices. Of course, most of her information came from her father. It was one sided at best. I pointed out that there are always two sides to every story and usually both of those sides are a little warped.
But as I pondered on the things she had said I realized that her focus was on what she thought were my failures. She had no concept of the efforts, circumstances or atmosphere surrounding each of my “failures”. She is too young to know of the blood, sweat and tears that accompanied these events.
And I came to understand more deeply the instructions to “judge not”. Only God can know all the circumstances. Only God can know the intentions in a person’s heart. Only God can make a true judgment. He knows what it took to climb out of the boat.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Window Washing
I stood outside in the sun scraping paint and fuming! I felt like slave labor. My forte is in organizing. I can put a house together in one day but windows have never and will never be top on my chore list. How dare she treat me this way?
Then I took a deep breath and another and even another. I began to think the situation over from her point of view. I came to the realization that she knew how far I had driven. She knew how busy I was. If she asked me to scrap the windows it was probably because it was important to her.
And wasn’t that what I had offered? I had offered to give her my time and help. How she wanted to use that time was her choice. I hadn’t specified what I was willing to do or what I wasn’t willing to do. I had told her I’d help and by cracky, I’d do whatever it was SHE felt she needed. I could give her that. I even began to feel a little honored that she had entrusted me to do that which was so important to her.
It was an extremely important lesson in service to others. True service is giving what is needed. She was grateful for the work and I went home very tired but a little wiser.
Now, for the rest of the story- a number of years later I shared this story with some friends. I changed the names to protect the innocent. One of my friends spoke to me later. She named the woman. I asked her how she knew. Because “she” has a real thing about her windows being clean! That WAS her most important thing and she had asked me to do it.
That lesson has come in handy many times over the years as I have tried to serve in ways that are needed instead of what makes me feel better. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Then I took a deep breath and another and even another. I began to think the situation over from her point of view. I came to the realization that she knew how far I had driven. She knew how busy I was. If she asked me to scrap the windows it was probably because it was important to her.
And wasn’t that what I had offered? I had offered to give her my time and help. How she wanted to use that time was her choice. I hadn’t specified what I was willing to do or what I wasn’t willing to do. I had told her I’d help and by cracky, I’d do whatever it was SHE felt she needed. I could give her that. I even began to feel a little honored that she had entrusted me to do that which was so important to her.
It was an extremely important lesson in service to others. True service is giving what is needed. She was grateful for the work and I went home very tired but a little wiser.
Now, for the rest of the story- a number of years later I shared this story with some friends. I changed the names to protect the innocent. One of my friends spoke to me later. She named the woman. I asked her how she knew. Because “she” has a real thing about her windows being clean! That WAS her most important thing and she had asked me to do it.
That lesson has come in handy many times over the years as I have tried to serve in ways that are needed instead of what makes me feel better. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, August 8, 2011
AVisit to Nazi Occupied Poland
My daughters and I spent time in Nazi occupied Poland this weekend via Netflix. We watched several movies, some documentaries and a revealing film made by the Nazi’s.
We hid in a small attic crawl space with 13 Jews. They could not stand or speak or move. They felt like the rats that also occupied their small space. They could not bathe or wash their clothes. Their toilet was a communal bucket. They had no privacy whatsoever. It was 2 ½ years of hell but they thanked God for every moment because they were alive!
We worried along with the young Christian girl who kept them alive. She put her life on the line for what she felt to be right. Immediate shooting was the consequence for hiding Jews. She put her faith in God asking for and receiving help for each obstacle she had to surmount. When asked she said, “I didn’t do anything special.”
We then lived in one of the Polish ghettos with one million other Jews. It was crowded. Each family was allowed two rooms. Each home was occupied by several families mostly unknown to each other. People starved to death and were thrown out into the street for pickup by the body crew. They were then slid down a slide into a mass grave to be bulldozed over.
We walked among those who knew that their life could end at any moment just on a soldier’s whim. We watched as slowly both Germans and Jews lost their humanity. “You cannot live with such things and allow yourself to feel” was one survivors comment. “We just stopped feeling.”
We felt the pain of families torn apart, the fear of the unknown, the despair of helplessness and the terror of the trains. We watched the smugness of the German leadership during trial still sure that they were right. They had done nothing wrong.
We saw footage of the skeletal remains of people, both dead and alive. We looked into eyes that were no longer recognizable as human. We saw the eyes of trapped animals, willing to chew off their own legs if needed to attain freedom.
We watched as Auschwitz was planned, designed and built to be a killing factory so that the work would be more efficient - the work of eliminating the entire Jewish population. We watched the still overwhelming numbers of dead fill the screen.
And my daughters asked questions that after 70 years can still not be answered. They wanted to know- WHY? They wanted to know- HOW? Mostly, they wanted to know- COULD THIS HAPPEN AGAIN?
One of the statistics that struck me was the estimation that less than 1% of the non-Jewish population in all the occupied countries did anything to help. Less than 1%! Would that figure be any higher today? I don’t think so. And that disturbs me the most. Have we really learned anything? As the last of that generation pass away, I’m afraid that no- we haven’t.
The people of today think stress is being late for a coffee date or a pedicure. Put to a real stress test would we crumble like a house of cards or are our foundations stronger than we think? Would we step up to the plate or hide in the bleachers? What would you do? That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
We hid in a small attic crawl space with 13 Jews. They could not stand or speak or move. They felt like the rats that also occupied their small space. They could not bathe or wash their clothes. Their toilet was a communal bucket. They had no privacy whatsoever. It was 2 ½ years of hell but they thanked God for every moment because they were alive!
We worried along with the young Christian girl who kept them alive. She put her life on the line for what she felt to be right. Immediate shooting was the consequence for hiding Jews. She put her faith in God asking for and receiving help for each obstacle she had to surmount. When asked she said, “I didn’t do anything special.”
We then lived in one of the Polish ghettos with one million other Jews. It was crowded. Each family was allowed two rooms. Each home was occupied by several families mostly unknown to each other. People starved to death and were thrown out into the street for pickup by the body crew. They were then slid down a slide into a mass grave to be bulldozed over.
We walked among those who knew that their life could end at any moment just on a soldier’s whim. We watched as slowly both Germans and Jews lost their humanity. “You cannot live with such things and allow yourself to feel” was one survivors comment. “We just stopped feeling.”
We felt the pain of families torn apart, the fear of the unknown, the despair of helplessness and the terror of the trains. We watched the smugness of the German leadership during trial still sure that they were right. They had done nothing wrong.
We saw footage of the skeletal remains of people, both dead and alive. We looked into eyes that were no longer recognizable as human. We saw the eyes of trapped animals, willing to chew off their own legs if needed to attain freedom.
We watched as Auschwitz was planned, designed and built to be a killing factory so that the work would be more efficient - the work of eliminating the entire Jewish population. We watched the still overwhelming numbers of dead fill the screen.
And my daughters asked questions that after 70 years can still not be answered. They wanted to know- WHY? They wanted to know- HOW? Mostly, they wanted to know- COULD THIS HAPPEN AGAIN?
One of the statistics that struck me was the estimation that less than 1% of the non-Jewish population in all the occupied countries did anything to help. Less than 1%! Would that figure be any higher today? I don’t think so. And that disturbs me the most. Have we really learned anything? As the last of that generation pass away, I’m afraid that no- we haven’t.
The people of today think stress is being late for a coffee date or a pedicure. Put to a real stress test would we crumble like a house of cards or are our foundations stronger than we think? Would we step up to the plate or hide in the bleachers? What would you do? That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, August 5, 2011
Meals on Wheels
I’ve been in a blue mood for the past few weeks. I know some of the causes but my usual coping methods are not available to me at the moment. It’s hot where I am so most of my outdoor activities are limited. It is also hot inside. Our 20 year old system isn’t keeping up well. So my indoor activities are also limited. What can I say? I’m a New Englander- I don’t do heat well!
So, this morning, I say to my husband, who by the way is a Westerner, he does heat just fine- it’s cold he can’t do! I say- “Life sucks and then you die.” I say this when I am in my blue moods although they don’t accurately describe my philosophy. They do, however, describe my feelings.
So, I’m in bed, staring at the ceiling, telling my better half- “Life sucks and then you die.” I’m getting ready for a full fledged pity party. I want to moan and groan and cry and just be miserable! I’m waiting for my sweetie to take me in his arms and tell me how much he loves me. I want him to put the pieces of my broken heart together and hold them tight in his hands. But this is not his way.
He tells me, “Someone told a good joke last night (at work).” Now, first you need to understand that my husband doesn’t tell jokes, he tells stories. He is captivating! Second, you need to understand that I have learned over the years that he is not ignoring my pain. The story is his response to it. It is always relevant. I have learned to listen carefully.
“A big, white, fluffy cat dies. He finds himself standing before the pearly gates of heaven. Saint Peter looks down on him. “You’ve been a good cat. I will let you into heaven. Is there anything I can do for you to make your stay more comfortable?”
The cat thinks for a few minutes. “All my life, I had to sleep on hard surfaces. I would really like a big soft cushion.” Instantly, he has one. “This is wonderful, thank you!”
A few days later some mice appear at the gate. Saint Peter tells them that they have been good mice. They will be admitted but is there anything he can do to make their stay better? “Oh, yes, we want some roller skates. All our lives we had to run away from people, from cats, from traps, etc. We are soooo tired of running! Can we please have roller skates?” Instantly, they have them. “Oh, this is great, thank you!”
Some time passes. One day, Saint Peter passes by the cat sleeping on his cushion. He asks how things are going. The cat stretches lazily. “This cushion is so comfortable, I love it! And those meals on wheels aren’t too bad, either!”
When I stopped laughing, I realized that one of the reasons I love this quiet, strong man is his ability to head people off at the pass and avert the coming storm. He is truly a peacemaker. All who know him feel this even if they don’t recognize how he does it. You gotta love someone like that and we all do!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
So, this morning, I say to my husband, who by the way is a Westerner, he does heat just fine- it’s cold he can’t do! I say- “Life sucks and then you die.” I say this when I am in my blue moods although they don’t accurately describe my philosophy. They do, however, describe my feelings.
So, I’m in bed, staring at the ceiling, telling my better half- “Life sucks and then you die.” I’m getting ready for a full fledged pity party. I want to moan and groan and cry and just be miserable! I’m waiting for my sweetie to take me in his arms and tell me how much he loves me. I want him to put the pieces of my broken heart together and hold them tight in his hands. But this is not his way.
He tells me, “Someone told a good joke last night (at work).” Now, first you need to understand that my husband doesn’t tell jokes, he tells stories. He is captivating! Second, you need to understand that I have learned over the years that he is not ignoring my pain. The story is his response to it. It is always relevant. I have learned to listen carefully.
“A big, white, fluffy cat dies. He finds himself standing before the pearly gates of heaven. Saint Peter looks down on him. “You’ve been a good cat. I will let you into heaven. Is there anything I can do for you to make your stay more comfortable?”
The cat thinks for a few minutes. “All my life, I had to sleep on hard surfaces. I would really like a big soft cushion.” Instantly, he has one. “This is wonderful, thank you!”
A few days later some mice appear at the gate. Saint Peter tells them that they have been good mice. They will be admitted but is there anything he can do to make their stay better? “Oh, yes, we want some roller skates. All our lives we had to run away from people, from cats, from traps, etc. We are soooo tired of running! Can we please have roller skates?” Instantly, they have them. “Oh, this is great, thank you!”
Some time passes. One day, Saint Peter passes by the cat sleeping on his cushion. He asks how things are going. The cat stretches lazily. “This cushion is so comfortable, I love it! And those meals on wheels aren’t too bad, either!”
When I stopped laughing, I realized that one of the reasons I love this quiet, strong man is his ability to head people off at the pass and avert the coming storm. He is truly a peacemaker. All who know him feel this even if they don’t recognize how he does it. You gotta love someone like that and we all do!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
It's A Wonderful Life!
I love the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”. I love even the story of how it came to be. It was a low budget, last minute thrown together affair that had no idea it was going to grow up to be one of the world’s best known movies.
It is its simplicity that makes it such a classic. It is also its complexity. It very simply tells the story of a man. But because one person’s story is never just one person’s story but the story of all who cross that person’s path, it is the story of a marriage, a family, a neighborhood. It is the story of a town.
It is chock full of things that are truths. We feel these truths deep in our hearts as we watch George’s life played out. We recognize that there is a loving Father in Heaven who watches out for us. We see that there are both good and evil influences in the world. We see that love in what ever form it takes (romantic, familial, neighborly, etc.) is the key to winning the never ending conflict between those influences.
We learn that all of us are subject to temptations as we struggle with George on that bridge. Often, the strength to overcome is given to us by others whether they be angels, spouses, children, friends or neighbors.
We learn how key forgiveness, gratitude and service to others are to the happy flow of life. We see the positive, giving, caring George win over the grasping, negative, hateful Potter. This victory is clear and complete as we witness the payoff of a life well-lived during that last unforgettable scene. The outpouring of love drowns the evils done that day.
But the most important message is the one we all long to truly know- have I had an impact on the world around me? Do I matter? Have I done any good? Is my life worth something? This movie assures us that “no man is an island”. It is impossible to go through a life not touching anyone else’s. Our choice is whether that touch has helped or hurt.
Most times we won’t even know what our influence has been. Sometimes it’s as simple as a smile, a wave, a kind gesture that we forget almost as soon as we’ve done it. But for the person on the receiving end it could make all the difference.
We live in a world of Potters, trying to make their mark with power and control. Many of us have experienced those moments when we think as George did, “I’m worth more dead than alive!” When we have those worthless moments, let’s remember those seen and unseen who would gather round to lift us up.
Let us also try to be those who will reach out in times of need to lift a fellow human being. We all count!! Our lives matter!! Pull out your copy of “It’s a Wonderful Life” if you don’t believe me. It is not just a Christmas movie!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
It is its simplicity that makes it such a classic. It is also its complexity. It very simply tells the story of a man. But because one person’s story is never just one person’s story but the story of all who cross that person’s path, it is the story of a marriage, a family, a neighborhood. It is the story of a town.
It is chock full of things that are truths. We feel these truths deep in our hearts as we watch George’s life played out. We recognize that there is a loving Father in Heaven who watches out for us. We see that there are both good and evil influences in the world. We see that love in what ever form it takes (romantic, familial, neighborly, etc.) is the key to winning the never ending conflict between those influences.
We learn that all of us are subject to temptations as we struggle with George on that bridge. Often, the strength to overcome is given to us by others whether they be angels, spouses, children, friends or neighbors.
We learn how key forgiveness, gratitude and service to others are to the happy flow of life. We see the positive, giving, caring George win over the grasping, negative, hateful Potter. This victory is clear and complete as we witness the payoff of a life well-lived during that last unforgettable scene. The outpouring of love drowns the evils done that day.
But the most important message is the one we all long to truly know- have I had an impact on the world around me? Do I matter? Have I done any good? Is my life worth something? This movie assures us that “no man is an island”. It is impossible to go through a life not touching anyone else’s. Our choice is whether that touch has helped or hurt.
Most times we won’t even know what our influence has been. Sometimes it’s as simple as a smile, a wave, a kind gesture that we forget almost as soon as we’ve done it. But for the person on the receiving end it could make all the difference.
We live in a world of Potters, trying to make their mark with power and control. Many of us have experienced those moments when we think as George did, “I’m worth more dead than alive!” When we have those worthless moments, let’s remember those seen and unseen who would gather round to lift us up.
Let us also try to be those who will reach out in times of need to lift a fellow human being. We all count!! Our lives matter!! Pull out your copy of “It’s a Wonderful Life” if you don’t believe me. It is not just a Christmas movie!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, August 1, 2011
Government Standoff
A few weeks ago, my almost thirteen year old daughter stormed into my office. “Mom, you’ve just got to do something!!!! Sarah (her younger sister) is writing terrible things bout me in her diary!!! Do something about it!!!”
My husband and I exchanged looks before we both started laughing. She looked properly insulted and indignant as she proceeded to tell us about the things in her sister’s diary. As soon as I could catch my breath, I responded. “Honey, there is so much wrong with what you just said that I don’t even know where to begin!!”
She was furious!! No amount of discussion helped her to see her culpability in snooping. Another family favorite occurs during prayer time- “Mom, so and so wasn’t keeping their eyes closed during prayer!!” My response has always been “How do YOU know?” Some get it- some do not.
Which leads me to the real subject today- the U.S. Government’s inability to work together. I do not intend to take sides in this blog. I do intend to say that some of you are acting like my daughter. Instead of taking a firm stand in defending what you want, you are instead tearing apart the opponents stand. There is so much wrong with that method that I don’t know where to begin!
I hate to break this to you but you are grownups not children. Somewhere along your personal journey, you should have learned the art of compromise. COMPROMISE; an adjustment for settlement by arbitration and mutual concession, usually involving a partial surrender of purposes or principle.
In layperson terms, one side gives a little, the other side gives a little and the end result is something neither side particularly cares for but it will work. A divorce attorney once told me that if neither party liked the result it was probably a fair compromise. The same principle holds true in politics!
So, please stop acting like a bunch of 12 year old girls and get your act together. The people of this country are depending on you. This is more than just being right- it’s about being fair and just!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
My husband and I exchanged looks before we both started laughing. She looked properly insulted and indignant as she proceeded to tell us about the things in her sister’s diary. As soon as I could catch my breath, I responded. “Honey, there is so much wrong with what you just said that I don’t even know where to begin!!”
She was furious!! No amount of discussion helped her to see her culpability in snooping. Another family favorite occurs during prayer time- “Mom, so and so wasn’t keeping their eyes closed during prayer!!” My response has always been “How do YOU know?” Some get it- some do not.
Which leads me to the real subject today- the U.S. Government’s inability to work together. I do not intend to take sides in this blog. I do intend to say that some of you are acting like my daughter. Instead of taking a firm stand in defending what you want, you are instead tearing apart the opponents stand. There is so much wrong with that method that I don’t know where to begin!
I hate to break this to you but you are grownups not children. Somewhere along your personal journey, you should have learned the art of compromise. COMPROMISE; an adjustment for settlement by arbitration and mutual concession, usually involving a partial surrender of purposes or principle.
In layperson terms, one side gives a little, the other side gives a little and the end result is something neither side particularly cares for but it will work. A divorce attorney once told me that if neither party liked the result it was probably a fair compromise. The same principle holds true in politics!
So, please stop acting like a bunch of 12 year old girls and get your act together. The people of this country are depending on you. This is more than just being right- it’s about being fair and just!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, July 25, 2011
UN- Real Estate?!
We’ve been house shopping, no, not shopping, more like browsing. I like to do my homework before we make any kind of big change. I have been checking papers, gathering flyers, doing drive bys, using online sites, investigating repos and fore closures, etc. I started the process about six weeks ago when I noticed that area real estate prices were dropping.
I have spent less than 20 hours comparing properties. This has been sufficient to get a good idea of the market. What keeps stunning me is that many sellers we’ve come across aren’t doing their homework before marketing their properties. They seem to pull a “wish” price out of thin air and expect someone will come their way and pay it.
We just returned from viewing a 3br,2 bath home on 1/3 acre with a large garage/shop in the city limits of our small town. This property is right next door to a low income housing project. It is owned by a small investment group. They have rented it out for a few years. Neither tenants or owners thought it important to keep the grounds watered. The once beautiful lawn and flower beds are dead. The asking price $160,000. They have not received any bites.
Outside of our city limits is a beautifully landscaped 3br, 3 bath home on 4.85 acres of trees, corrals and pastures. This property has a shop, a barn, a garage and a lawn. It’s price is $170,000.When I mentioned to the investment rep that there were better places available in that price range, he sadly shook his head and replied that the local realtor had told them the same thing but $160,000 was what they had paid for the property. I realize that where they come from $160,000 was a good deal but this isn’t the same market. Wouldn’t you have thought they’d done some checking?
There have been a number of similar situations in my hunt but I have to share this next one. It’s a doozy! We are looking at homes in the nearby small town. Many homes in that town are manufactured houses. We have seen 4 or 5 nice homes in the $70,000- $110,000 price range. The amount of land included was the biggest factor in pricing. We found one 4br,2 bath on a large fenced in lot on a private road for $69,000! It was a repo.
As we are driving out of town a little bit, we come across a dilapidated old manufactured home on 1.3 strangely formed acres. This place has been TRASHED!! The house and yard are full of junk, the roof needs replacement, several windows are broken, every interior door needs replacement, all the flooring must be replaced, there are holes in most of the walls and in some of the floors. The smell alone was unbelievable. However, with our apartment manager eyes, we can see past all that to possibilities. Wow, we think, this is doable. This might be the good deal we are looking for. We call the number, leave a message and await the return call.
It comes that evening. We chat, I ask for the price- $139,000!! WHAT?! I ask. He repeats. I blurt out- “Have you seen it recently?” Yes, he has. He then adds that price is if he does the needed work. I breathe again and ask” what if we do the work?” The reply- “I’ll take ten thousand off.” ????? Are you insane? I wanted to say! I think I muttered thanks and hung up. And we wonder why our economic system is a mess. Nobody seems to know basic math!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
I have spent less than 20 hours comparing properties. This has been sufficient to get a good idea of the market. What keeps stunning me is that many sellers we’ve come across aren’t doing their homework before marketing their properties. They seem to pull a “wish” price out of thin air and expect someone will come their way and pay it.
We just returned from viewing a 3br,2 bath home on 1/3 acre with a large garage/shop in the city limits of our small town. This property is right next door to a low income housing project. It is owned by a small investment group. They have rented it out for a few years. Neither tenants or owners thought it important to keep the grounds watered. The once beautiful lawn and flower beds are dead. The asking price $160,000. They have not received any bites.
Outside of our city limits is a beautifully landscaped 3br, 3 bath home on 4.85 acres of trees, corrals and pastures. This property has a shop, a barn, a garage and a lawn. It’s price is $170,000.When I mentioned to the investment rep that there were better places available in that price range, he sadly shook his head and replied that the local realtor had told them the same thing but $160,000 was what they had paid for the property. I realize that where they come from $160,000 was a good deal but this isn’t the same market. Wouldn’t you have thought they’d done some checking?
There have been a number of similar situations in my hunt but I have to share this next one. It’s a doozy! We are looking at homes in the nearby small town. Many homes in that town are manufactured houses. We have seen 4 or 5 nice homes in the $70,000- $110,000 price range. The amount of land included was the biggest factor in pricing. We found one 4br,2 bath on a large fenced in lot on a private road for $69,000! It was a repo.
As we are driving out of town a little bit, we come across a dilapidated old manufactured home on 1.3 strangely formed acres. This place has been TRASHED!! The house and yard are full of junk, the roof needs replacement, several windows are broken, every interior door needs replacement, all the flooring must be replaced, there are holes in most of the walls and in some of the floors. The smell alone was unbelievable. However, with our apartment manager eyes, we can see past all that to possibilities. Wow, we think, this is doable. This might be the good deal we are looking for. We call the number, leave a message and await the return call.
It comes that evening. We chat, I ask for the price- $139,000!! WHAT?! I ask. He repeats. I blurt out- “Have you seen it recently?” Yes, he has. He then adds that price is if he does the needed work. I breathe again and ask” what if we do the work?” The reply- “I’ll take ten thousand off.” ????? Are you insane? I wanted to say! I think I muttered thanks and hung up. And we wonder why our economic system is a mess. Nobody seems to know basic math!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, July 22, 2011
The ants go marching......
You know the song- “The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah”? Well, in my house during the past week, they have been marching 100 by 100 and hurrah is not exactly the word I use when I see them. We have been hit by a Moses type plague. It’s making me crazy (maybe the correct word here is crazier).
Our best guess is that when the water pipe broke last week it flooded under the house. Since we are built on an anthill they had no where to go but up! They are crawling up behind the paneling to find tiny gaps near the woodwork. They are crawling across ceilings. They are getting into my high cupboards as well as my low.
As soon as we see them we swoop down with the vacuum, ant traps and cinnamon. Cinnamon will not kill them but they won’t cross it. I’ve sprinkled it everywhere. We have spent several hours just tracking them to their entry point. I then fill the crack with caulking. Battle won!! But not the war- the next day we wake up to find a new invasion area and the next battle ensues.
I even took the war outside and sprinkled poison around the base of the house. This is not my usual MO. I have a kind of treaty with the natural world especially insects- I won’t bother them in their habitat if they won’t bother me in mine. These ants have broken the pact and all is fair in love and war!
So, Wednesday, we decided to drop the bomb and put an end to this for good! We prepared the house, set up foggers in the house, set up foggers under the house, locked the cats in the garage and the dogs in their kennel and BAM, we set them off. We left the property for 8 hours. It was late when we returned home. Opened all the windows, turned on all the fans to air out the overpowering insecticide stench and began detox procedures. There were dead insects everywhere but we saw something moving…. we crept over…..moved the things on the counters……….it was the stinking ants!!! They were trying to get into my sugar canister!!!! DAMN!
However, today, I get up and check the kitchen.. no ants….garbage..no ants..outside patio..no ants…it’s too good to be true…..maybe the $80.00 of poison that lays all over the place is working!!! But I won’t get my hopes up. I think I’ll just enjoy the reprieve today and finally get something else done. My happy thoughts about the situation- my girls finally realized why their rooms need to be clean and all my cupboards are clean and organized. Now, I hope we don’t all die from insecticide overdose!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Our best guess is that when the water pipe broke last week it flooded under the house. Since we are built on an anthill they had no where to go but up! They are crawling up behind the paneling to find tiny gaps near the woodwork. They are crawling across ceilings. They are getting into my high cupboards as well as my low.
As soon as we see them we swoop down with the vacuum, ant traps and cinnamon. Cinnamon will not kill them but they won’t cross it. I’ve sprinkled it everywhere. We have spent several hours just tracking them to their entry point. I then fill the crack with caulking. Battle won!! But not the war- the next day we wake up to find a new invasion area and the next battle ensues.
I even took the war outside and sprinkled poison around the base of the house. This is not my usual MO. I have a kind of treaty with the natural world especially insects- I won’t bother them in their habitat if they won’t bother me in mine. These ants have broken the pact and all is fair in love and war!
So, Wednesday, we decided to drop the bomb and put an end to this for good! We prepared the house, set up foggers in the house, set up foggers under the house, locked the cats in the garage and the dogs in their kennel and BAM, we set them off. We left the property for 8 hours. It was late when we returned home. Opened all the windows, turned on all the fans to air out the overpowering insecticide stench and began detox procedures. There were dead insects everywhere but we saw something moving…. we crept over…..moved the things on the counters……….it was the stinking ants!!! They were trying to get into my sugar canister!!!! DAMN!
However, today, I get up and check the kitchen.. no ants….garbage..no ants..outside patio..no ants…it’s too good to be true…..maybe the $80.00 of poison that lays all over the place is working!!! But I won’t get my hopes up. I think I’ll just enjoy the reprieve today and finally get something else done. My happy thoughts about the situation- my girls finally realized why their rooms need to be clean and all my cupboards are clean and organized. Now, I hope we don’t all die from insecticide overdose!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, July 18, 2011
Advice on Life (from a 10 yr. old)
My guest blogger today is Sarah Martin, my ten year old daughter. She wrote this last week and although the spelling and grammer leave a lot to be desired, the ideas are original and fascinating. I hope that you will enjoy them as much as I did.
I’ve always wanted to know what it
would be like to write a book. So that’s
what this week is all about. Want to know
what, I’m a ten year old girl who’s parent’s
got divorced when I was three, two of my
five brothers got arrested, and my family
just went through bankruptcy. I have to
admit that I’ve had my ups and downs
so far; But haven’t we all. It’s not like we
all don’t have are moments, it’s just the
fact that non of us are perfect to every
one at the same time; It’s just part of life.
See and that’s the point, you can’t just live
your hole life thinking that your better
than every one and that’s why I’m writing
this book; for people who know someone
who thinks or acts that there better than
everyone. In my years I’ve always had
atleast one or two people who think there
better than every one, usually one boy
and one girl at the same time. But
sometimes more, like in fourth grade.
Even though I’ve had some bad times, that
Does not mean I did not live right. Life is
a work of art. You could write a song, a
little poetry, take a photograph or make a
memory it’s your choice it’s who you are
and it’s what you’ll be. I guess what I’m
saying is that it’s your choice how you live,
it’s not your grandma it’s not you aunts it’s
not your cousins and it’s not your uncles
it’s yours and yours alone. Life is not all
about people being better than eachother,
it’s actually about every one around you,
and what they feel like, It’s also called
caring, loving, and charity.
And that's the view from my side of the street, what's yours?
I’ve always wanted to know what it
would be like to write a book. So that’s
what this week is all about. Want to know
what, I’m a ten year old girl who’s parent’s
got divorced when I was three, two of my
five brothers got arrested, and my family
just went through bankruptcy. I have to
admit that I’ve had my ups and downs
so far; But haven’t we all. It’s not like we
all don’t have are moments, it’s just the
fact that non of us are perfect to every
one at the same time; It’s just part of life.
See and that’s the point, you can’t just live
your hole life thinking that your better
than every one and that’s why I’m writing
this book; for people who know someone
who thinks or acts that there better than
everyone. In my years I’ve always had
atleast one or two people who think there
better than every one, usually one boy
and one girl at the same time. But
sometimes more, like in fourth grade.
Even though I’ve had some bad times, that
Does not mean I did not live right. Life is
a work of art. You could write a song, a
little poetry, take a photograph or make a
memory it’s your choice it’s who you are
and it’s what you’ll be. I guess what I’m
saying is that it’s your choice how you live,
it’s not your grandma it’s not you aunts it’s
not your cousins and it’s not your uncles
it’s yours and yours alone. Life is not all
about people being better than eachother,
it’s actually about every one around you,
and what they feel like, It’s also called
caring, loving, and charity.
And that's the view from my side of the street, what's yours?
Friday, July 15, 2011
Overwhelm Land
I found myself in “overwhelm land” a few weekends ago. Actually, it was the Saturday evening before the 4th. I don’t think men visit “overwhelm land” often but we women usually know it well. I hate being there so I work hard to maintain balance. But even in the most balanced of lives a trip to “overwhelm land” once in awhile is inevitable.
“Overwhelm land” is that place in our minds when suddenly the responsibilities we have all come crashing down at once and seem completely undoable! It doesn’t matter that we’ve been doing them right along. Something, usually something small, gets added and like the proverbial straw our camel’s back gets broken. Once that happens, there is nothing to be done but let overwhelm and its accompanying feelings of helplessness, hopelessness and then anger wash over you. To maintain some kind of damage control, I try to be by myself during this time.
Logical thinking does not work your way out of it. Even when it’s me doing the thinking! I can’t talk myself out of it. My husband can’t talk me out of it. I’ve learned that I just have to feel that way until I don’t feel that way anymore. Since it most often occurs when I am tired, I put myself to bed. I cry and mutter and mentally yell. If I’m lucky, I’ll go to sleep and it with be all over when I wake up.
Now, if you are a man reading this, let me tell you a secret that I shared with my husband when we first were married. If your woman is in that highly illogical, highly emotional place called “overwhelm land” DON”T try to talk her through it- that doesn’t work. She is not really thinking at the moment. She is feeling! The best thing you can do is hold her and tell her everything will be alright as if she were a small child with a boo boo. Do this lovingly, not condescendingly! Let her words just spill out if she wants to talk- don’t answer or fix or comment in any way other than to use soothing words or sounds. If you can not do this, than do NOTHING!! Leave her alone and she’ll get over it quicker!
For instance, my recent trip to “overwhelm land” was caused by marshmallows! What a stupid thing, right? Marshmallows! That week had seen me coping with 2 yappy dogs, Devil Cat, my almost 13 year old’s constant arguments, killing/ gutting chickens, a financial disaster and a funeral. I handled all that like a trooper. But finding out that the marshmallows I had put aside for 4th of July s’mores were missing had me ready to line up the whole household and shoot them! I was furious! Then the whole week came crashing down.
I told everyone to pretend I was dead and put myself to bed at 6pm. In my room, I ranted and raved. I even complained to God- BIG mistake! When I woke up the next morning, I opened my door and stepped on to a sopping wet carpet! Our cold water pipe had broken during the night, we were flooded. We went without running water for two days while we fixed that pipe and several others.
Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor? I sure got the message and snapped out of it real quick! That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
“Overwhelm land” is that place in our minds when suddenly the responsibilities we have all come crashing down at once and seem completely undoable! It doesn’t matter that we’ve been doing them right along. Something, usually something small, gets added and like the proverbial straw our camel’s back gets broken. Once that happens, there is nothing to be done but let overwhelm and its accompanying feelings of helplessness, hopelessness and then anger wash over you. To maintain some kind of damage control, I try to be by myself during this time.
Logical thinking does not work your way out of it. Even when it’s me doing the thinking! I can’t talk myself out of it. My husband can’t talk me out of it. I’ve learned that I just have to feel that way until I don’t feel that way anymore. Since it most often occurs when I am tired, I put myself to bed. I cry and mutter and mentally yell. If I’m lucky, I’ll go to sleep and it with be all over when I wake up.
Now, if you are a man reading this, let me tell you a secret that I shared with my husband when we first were married. If your woman is in that highly illogical, highly emotional place called “overwhelm land” DON”T try to talk her through it- that doesn’t work. She is not really thinking at the moment. She is feeling! The best thing you can do is hold her and tell her everything will be alright as if she were a small child with a boo boo. Do this lovingly, not condescendingly! Let her words just spill out if she wants to talk- don’t answer or fix or comment in any way other than to use soothing words or sounds. If you can not do this, than do NOTHING!! Leave her alone and she’ll get over it quicker!
For instance, my recent trip to “overwhelm land” was caused by marshmallows! What a stupid thing, right? Marshmallows! That week had seen me coping with 2 yappy dogs, Devil Cat, my almost 13 year old’s constant arguments, killing/ gutting chickens, a financial disaster and a funeral. I handled all that like a trooper. But finding out that the marshmallows I had put aside for 4th of July s’mores were missing had me ready to line up the whole household and shoot them! I was furious! Then the whole week came crashing down.
I told everyone to pretend I was dead and put myself to bed at 6pm. In my room, I ranted and raved. I even complained to God- BIG mistake! When I woke up the next morning, I opened my door and stepped on to a sopping wet carpet! Our cold water pipe had broken during the night, we were flooded. We went without running water for two days while we fixed that pipe and several others.
Who says God doesn’t have a sense of humor? I sure got the message and snapped out of it real quick! That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Harry Truman- a man of the people
I have always thought that Harry Truman was one of our best Presidents. I did a report on him in high school and basically fell in love with his down to earth, practical sensibility. His love of family, God and his country were his guidelines for choices in life. His love for his longtime sweetheart, Bess, was deep and enduring. And you just have to respect someone who has “The buck stops here” on his desk!
So when I came upon the following information today, I knew I had to share it. Apparently it was an e-mail that has been forwarded around. I saw the print out at a doctor’s office. Here are some facts about this man of the people.
“Harry Truman was a different kind of president. He probably made as many, or more, important decisions regarding our nation’s history as any of the other 42 presidents preceding him. However, a measure of his greatness may rest on what he did after he left the White House.
The only asset he had when he died was the house he lived in. His wife had inherited the house from her mother and father and other than the years spent at the White House, they lived their entire lives there.
When he retired from office in 1952, his income was a U.S. Army pension reported to have been $13,507.72 a year. After President Eisenhower was inaugurated, Harry and Bess drove home to Missouri by themselves. No Secret Service or other fanfare accompanied them.
When offered corporate positions at large salaries, he declined, stating, “You don’t want me. You want the office of the President, and that doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to the American people and it’s not for sale.”
When Congress was preparing to award him the Congressional Medal of Honor on his 87th birthday, he refused to accept it, feeling that he had not done anything to earn it.
As president, he paid for all of his own travel expenses and food.” Don’t you think the budget would be rapidly balanced if today’s politicians were using their own funds? Harry Truman remembered that he was a servant to the people of the United States. He remembered his own accountability. I can only dream of the America we would have if this attitude still prevailed!
He once observed , “My choices in life were either to be a piano player in a whorehouse or a politician. And to tell the truth, there’s hardly any difference!” My own reaction to that? I think a lot more prostitution takes place in politics than in the whorehouse.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
So when I came upon the following information today, I knew I had to share it. Apparently it was an e-mail that has been forwarded around. I saw the print out at a doctor’s office. Here are some facts about this man of the people.
“Harry Truman was a different kind of president. He probably made as many, or more, important decisions regarding our nation’s history as any of the other 42 presidents preceding him. However, a measure of his greatness may rest on what he did after he left the White House.
The only asset he had when he died was the house he lived in. His wife had inherited the house from her mother and father and other than the years spent at the White House, they lived their entire lives there.
When he retired from office in 1952, his income was a U.S. Army pension reported to have been $13,507.72 a year. After President Eisenhower was inaugurated, Harry and Bess drove home to Missouri by themselves. No Secret Service or other fanfare accompanied them.
When offered corporate positions at large salaries, he declined, stating, “You don’t want me. You want the office of the President, and that doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to the American people and it’s not for sale.”
When Congress was preparing to award him the Congressional Medal of Honor on his 87th birthday, he refused to accept it, feeling that he had not done anything to earn it.
As president, he paid for all of his own travel expenses and food.” Don’t you think the budget would be rapidly balanced if today’s politicians were using their own funds? Harry Truman remembered that he was a servant to the people of the United States. He remembered his own accountability. I can only dream of the America we would have if this attitude still prevailed!
He once observed , “My choices in life were either to be a piano player in a whorehouse or a politician. And to tell the truth, there’s hardly any difference!” My own reaction to that? I think a lot more prostitution takes place in politics than in the whorehouse.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, July 11, 2011
Star Trek Time Warp
O.K. so my ten year old daughter and I are having quality alone time this past weekend. We are eating junk food, watching old movies (some are black and white) and playing go-fish. It’s my turn to pick a show. As I’m scrolling through the Netflix listings, I become excited to see the original Star Trek series.
I’m a Trekkie from way back- I was only a few years older than her when I wrote several scripts. No, they were never used but I loved that show. I’m explaining about its awesomeness as I’m quickly adding it to my queue and choosing an episode.
I’m also remembering how I shared the reruns with her older brothers and sisters. Only one loved it as much as I did but the others would watch with us. So I’m really psyched about it now. The episode begins. I’m humming along with the well known theme song and we are off.
It’s like seeing old friends that you have not seen for a long time. The people, the ship, the gadgets are as familiar as old family photographs. I’m loving it!!! Then Sarah starts asking questions. Once again I am reminded of how different the world which she is growing up in is from my childhood world. It is even different from the world her siblings grew up in. It went something like this-
Captain Kirk pulls out his communicator, flips it open and says those wonderful words, “Beam me up, Scotty.” She giggles, “Mom, they have those old fashioned cell phones. You know, the kind that flip open.”
In a tense moment, the captain pulls his phaser out and fires. “Mom, why are they using stun guns?”
The computer systems left much to be desired in her mind, “why aren’t they using laptops or their phones?”
“What are those things in their ears?” Remember the coil things in Spock and Aurora’s ears? I explained they were listening devices- “those are funny looking blue tooths, Mom”.
We were only ten minutes into the show! She decided to go to bed! I finished the episode and thought about how new and different Star Trek was when I was a child. In fact, it was considered too “edgy” by the networks. The impossible has not only become possible but almost obsolete in today’s world.
Remember talking computers, recreation computers that simulated real life, medical scanners that could diagnose and incredible data bases at the tip of Spock’s fingers? We live with those things daily now.
There are some things that haven’t changed- people and relationships. I still enjoy watching Bones and his cynicism, Spock trying to be human, Scotty’s salt of the earth bluster, and Captain Kirk’s sense of humor. I loved that such a diverse group of people could work together, disagree often and yet we always knew that they would lay down their life for one another.
The show is full of characters who truly have character. I enjoyed watching it today as much as ever for those very reasons. And that’s what makes it timeless to me. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
I’m a Trekkie from way back- I was only a few years older than her when I wrote several scripts. No, they were never used but I loved that show. I’m explaining about its awesomeness as I’m quickly adding it to my queue and choosing an episode.
I’m also remembering how I shared the reruns with her older brothers and sisters. Only one loved it as much as I did but the others would watch with us. So I’m really psyched about it now. The episode begins. I’m humming along with the well known theme song and we are off.
It’s like seeing old friends that you have not seen for a long time. The people, the ship, the gadgets are as familiar as old family photographs. I’m loving it!!! Then Sarah starts asking questions. Once again I am reminded of how different the world which she is growing up in is from my childhood world. It is even different from the world her siblings grew up in. It went something like this-
Captain Kirk pulls out his communicator, flips it open and says those wonderful words, “Beam me up, Scotty.” She giggles, “Mom, they have those old fashioned cell phones. You know, the kind that flip open.”
In a tense moment, the captain pulls his phaser out and fires. “Mom, why are they using stun guns?”
The computer systems left much to be desired in her mind, “why aren’t they using laptops or their phones?”
“What are those things in their ears?” Remember the coil things in Spock and Aurora’s ears? I explained they were listening devices- “those are funny looking blue tooths, Mom”.
We were only ten minutes into the show! She decided to go to bed! I finished the episode and thought about how new and different Star Trek was when I was a child. In fact, it was considered too “edgy” by the networks. The impossible has not only become possible but almost obsolete in today’s world.
Remember talking computers, recreation computers that simulated real life, medical scanners that could diagnose and incredible data bases at the tip of Spock’s fingers? We live with those things daily now.
There are some things that haven’t changed- people and relationships. I still enjoy watching Bones and his cynicism, Spock trying to be human, Scotty’s salt of the earth bluster, and Captain Kirk’s sense of humor. I loved that such a diverse group of people could work together, disagree often and yet we always knew that they would lay down their life for one another.
The show is full of characters who truly have character. I enjoyed watching it today as much as ever for those very reasons. And that’s what makes it timeless to me. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, July 8, 2011
Devil Cat
We have a new family member, a large black male cat named Ani (it’s short for Anikan, the sweet boy who turns into Darth Vader in the Stars Wars movies). It is appropriately named. I just call it Devil Cat.
One of my daughters traded a kitten for this cat. She was pleased that she had found a home for one of the kittens. Me? Not so much! She says I gave her permission but I thought she was joking at the time. So now we have Devil Cat.
Devil Cat allows you to pet him, no, wait, he demands that you pet him. Just when you think you are getting into the cat/owner groove thing, he attacks you. Teeth, claws, the whole bit flash out at you. If you’re quick enough there is no injury. If not, ouch!!!
He prowls the house looking for victims. He’ll hide so you don’t notice that you are in his space until with a growl and a swipe he’s got you again. A few minutes later, he’ll jump on your lap and purr!
Watching him with the dogs is really interesting. Actually, watching the dogs reaction to him is what is so captivating. Our older, bigger dog, Meesha, completely ignores him. He’ll do his prowling, hunting thing and she just lays there seemingly not noticing. We can tell she’s on high alert but to most she looks like she hasn’t a care in the world. It’s driving the cat crazy!
Our medium more insecure dog, Tressa, has let the cat know he can bring it on anytime. He starts his intimidating thing and she watches for a few minutes before being the first one to pounce on him. This sends him snarling to another room. But a few minutes later, he is back to try again.
He has the most fun (and drives me crazy) with the two new, small dogs, Mo and Stu. Mo will not pass by him. Dog stands there barking like crazy at cat. Cat just sits refusing to take notice. Dog gives up. Stu, however, is even more intimidated. All Devil Cat has to do is look casually at him and he runs yelping the other way. The cat is in his element and loving it!
So I got to thinking about the bullies in the human world. And the different ways we react to them. Some of us ignore them, some fight back, some of us just cower and give in. There is a higher way, though. We can “love our enemies” and “do good to them that despitefully use us”. This is not a new concept and yet, we still hesitate to believe it will work. How can loving someone who is hurting us help?
I don’t know but it does. I know that it does. So maybe if we all start trying it, we can change the world one bully at a time. Maybe even Devil Cat. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
One of my daughters traded a kitten for this cat. She was pleased that she had found a home for one of the kittens. Me? Not so much! She says I gave her permission but I thought she was joking at the time. So now we have Devil Cat.
Devil Cat allows you to pet him, no, wait, he demands that you pet him. Just when you think you are getting into the cat/owner groove thing, he attacks you. Teeth, claws, the whole bit flash out at you. If you’re quick enough there is no injury. If not, ouch!!!
He prowls the house looking for victims. He’ll hide so you don’t notice that you are in his space until with a growl and a swipe he’s got you again. A few minutes later, he’ll jump on your lap and purr!
Watching him with the dogs is really interesting. Actually, watching the dogs reaction to him is what is so captivating. Our older, bigger dog, Meesha, completely ignores him. He’ll do his prowling, hunting thing and she just lays there seemingly not noticing. We can tell she’s on high alert but to most she looks like she hasn’t a care in the world. It’s driving the cat crazy!
Our medium more insecure dog, Tressa, has let the cat know he can bring it on anytime. He starts his intimidating thing and she watches for a few minutes before being the first one to pounce on him. This sends him snarling to another room. But a few minutes later, he is back to try again.
He has the most fun (and drives me crazy) with the two new, small dogs, Mo and Stu. Mo will not pass by him. Dog stands there barking like crazy at cat. Cat just sits refusing to take notice. Dog gives up. Stu, however, is even more intimidated. All Devil Cat has to do is look casually at him and he runs yelping the other way. The cat is in his element and loving it!
So I got to thinking about the bullies in the human world. And the different ways we react to them. Some of us ignore them, some fight back, some of us just cower and give in. There is a higher way, though. We can “love our enemies” and “do good to them that despitefully use us”. This is not a new concept and yet, we still hesitate to believe it will work. How can loving someone who is hurting us help?
I don’t know but it does. I know that it does. So maybe if we all start trying it, we can change the world one bully at a time. Maybe even Devil Cat. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, July 4, 2011
We the people
We the people of the United States in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this constitution for the United States of America.
My country! ’tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims pride, From every mountain side, Let freedom ring!My native country, thee, Land of the noble, free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills. My heart with rapture thrills Like that above.Let music swell the breeze And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom’s song; Let mortal tongues awake; Let all that breathe partake; Let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong.Our fathers’ God to thee, Author of liberty, to thee we sing. Long may our land be bright With freedom’s holy light. Protect us by thy might, Great God, our King!
Oh, beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountains majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed his grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea. Oh, beautiful for pilgrim feet, Whose stern impassioned stress A thoroughfare of freedom beat Across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self control, Thy liberty in law. Oh, beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife, Who more than self their country loved, And mercy more than life! America! America! May God thy gold refine Till all success be nobleness, And every grain divine. Oh beautiful for patriot dream That sees beyond the years. Thine alabaster cities gleam Undimmed by human tears. America! America! God shed his grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea!
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands under God indivisible with justice and freedom for all.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours? Have a happy and safe 4th!
My country! ’tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims pride, From every mountain side, Let freedom ring!My native country, thee, Land of the noble, free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills. My heart with rapture thrills Like that above.Let music swell the breeze And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom’s song; Let mortal tongues awake; Let all that breathe partake; Let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong.Our fathers’ God to thee, Author of liberty, to thee we sing. Long may our land be bright With freedom’s holy light. Protect us by thy might, Great God, our King!
Oh, beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountains majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed his grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea. Oh, beautiful for pilgrim feet, Whose stern impassioned stress A thoroughfare of freedom beat Across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self control, Thy liberty in law. Oh, beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife, Who more than self their country loved, And mercy more than life! America! America! May God thy gold refine Till all success be nobleness, And every grain divine. Oh beautiful for patriot dream That sees beyond the years. Thine alabaster cities gleam Undimmed by human tears. America! America! God shed his grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea!
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for which it stands under God indivisible with justice and freedom for all.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours? Have a happy and safe 4th!
Friday, July 1, 2011
What kind of leader are you?
What kind of leader are you? Now, you are about to tell me that you are not a leader, aren’t you? That is simply not true. Are you someone’s boss or supervisor? Are you a parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle? Are you a brother or sister? Actually, unless you are reading this blog from your bomb shelter deep in the mountains, you are a leader to someone. Even then, the local tribe of Sasquatches is probably learning from your example so even you are not off the hook!
What kind of leader are you? Do you know the difference between a shepard and a sheepherder? Picture them both in your head- a shepard leads his flock of sheep. He walks in front of them to show the way. He sleeps with them at night to comfort and protect them. He knows and loves each of his flock intimately. He is gentle, kind and firm. He is loved.
A sheepherder drives his sheep in front of him. He rides a horse so that he is above the flock. He uses his dogs to keep the sheep in line. He does not really know one sheep from another nor does he care to. He is harsh, demanding and punitive. He is feared.
I was reminded of this comparison last week at our class. The presenter put the words teacher and enforcer on the board as she discussed children and discipline. A teacher uses discipline to teach correct behaviors- a shepard! An enforcer uses punishment to stop bad behaviors- a sheepherder!
What kind of leader are you? The shepards of the world inspire. The sheepherder intimidates. Do you want to be feared or loved? Do you want to inspire or intimidate? Do you want to teach or enforce?
Spend some time this 4th of July to think of the leaders that first established this country. Think of the type of leaders they were trying to break away from. And ask yourself again and again- what kind of leader am I?
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
What kind of leader are you? Do you know the difference between a shepard and a sheepherder? Picture them both in your head- a shepard leads his flock of sheep. He walks in front of them to show the way. He sleeps with them at night to comfort and protect them. He knows and loves each of his flock intimately. He is gentle, kind and firm. He is loved.
A sheepherder drives his sheep in front of him. He rides a horse so that he is above the flock. He uses his dogs to keep the sheep in line. He does not really know one sheep from another nor does he care to. He is harsh, demanding and punitive. He is feared.
I was reminded of this comparison last week at our class. The presenter put the words teacher and enforcer on the board as she discussed children and discipline. A teacher uses discipline to teach correct behaviors- a shepard! An enforcer uses punishment to stop bad behaviors- a sheepherder!
What kind of leader are you? The shepards of the world inspire. The sheepherder intimidates. Do you want to be feared or loved? Do you want to inspire or intimidate? Do you want to teach or enforce?
Spend some time this 4th of July to think of the leaders that first established this country. Think of the type of leaders they were trying to break away from. And ask yourself again and again- what kind of leader am I?
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Here we go again!
Oh, help!!My sixteen year old daughter has her permit to drive. We went driving for the first time yesterday. On our way to the marina park to pick up her sister she had to bear left, go downhill and make a sharp turn all at the same time. When she did it, she said with a sigh, “That was the scariest thing I ever had to do!!” Me, too!!!!!
I don’t know what it is about girls and driving. I have taught three sons and several of their friends to drive. It didn’t bother me. I actually thought it was fun. Do boys get driving quicker? Or do they just act like they do which instills a little more confidence in the accompanying adult?
Maybe it’s just a mother/daughter kind of thing but I have a lot harder time with teaching my girls to drive. I tried for a day to teach my oldest daughter to drive a stick shift. I quit! My husband took over and did just fine.
So far, she has forgotten to put the car in park before turning it off. She forgot to take it out of park to go ahead. She failed to stop and look both ways before pulling out into a road. She has driven on the left side of the road. She panicked when I was giving her instructions she didn’t understand and let the car just wander into the intersection. This was all in the first hour!
She keeps saying, “Oops.” Really?... Oops?.....I think that I better stock up on hair coloring. I’m pretty sure I’ll need it when this time around is over. Does the government give any kind of valor medals for this? They should.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
I don’t know what it is about girls and driving. I have taught three sons and several of their friends to drive. It didn’t bother me. I actually thought it was fun. Do boys get driving quicker? Or do they just act like they do which instills a little more confidence in the accompanying adult?
Maybe it’s just a mother/daughter kind of thing but I have a lot harder time with teaching my girls to drive. I tried for a day to teach my oldest daughter to drive a stick shift. I quit! My husband took over and did just fine.
So far, she has forgotten to put the car in park before turning it off. She forgot to take it out of park to go ahead. She failed to stop and look both ways before pulling out into a road. She has driven on the left side of the road. She panicked when I was giving her instructions she didn’t understand and let the car just wander into the intersection. This was all in the first hour!
She keeps saying, “Oops.” Really?... Oops?.....I think that I better stock up on hair coloring. I’m pretty sure I’ll need it when this time around is over. Does the government give any kind of valor medals for this? They should.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Here we go again!
Oh, help!!My sixteen year old daughter has her permit to drive. We went driving for the first time yesterday. On our way to the marina park to pick up her sister she had to bear left, go downhill and make a sharp turn all at the same time. When she did it, she said with a sigh, “That was the scariest thing I ever had to do!!” Me, too!!!!!
I don’t know what it is about girls and driving. I have taught three sons and several of their friends to drive. It didn’t bother me. I actually thought it was fun. Do boys get driving quicker? Or do they just act like they do which instills a little more confidence in the accompanying adult?
Maybe it’s just a mother/daughter kind of thing but I have a lot harder time with teaching my girls to drive. I tried for a day to teach my oldest daughter to drive a stick shift. I quit! My husband took over and did just fine.
So far, she has forgotten to put the car in park before turning it off. She forgot to take it out of park to go ahead. She failed to stop and look both ways before pulling out into a road. She has driven on the left side of the road. She panicked when I was giving her instructions she didn’t understand and let the car just wander into the intersection. This was all in the first hour!
She keeps saying, “Oops.” Really?... Oops?.....I think that I better stock up on hair coloring. I’m pretty sure I’ll need it when this time around is over. Does the government give any kind of valor medals for this? They should.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
I don’t know what it is about girls and driving. I have taught three sons and several of their friends to drive. It didn’t bother me. I actually thought it was fun. Do boys get driving quicker? Or do they just act like they do which instills a little more confidence in the accompanying adult?
Maybe it’s just a mother/daughter kind of thing but I have a lot harder time with teaching my girls to drive. I tried for a day to teach my oldest daughter to drive a stick shift. I quit! My husband took over and did just fine.
So far, she has forgotten to put the car in park before turning it off. She forgot to take it out of park to go ahead. She failed to stop and look both ways before pulling out into a road. She has driven on the left side of the road. She panicked when I was giving her instructions she didn’t understand and let the car just wander into the intersection. This was all in the first hour!
She keeps saying, “Oops.” Really?... Oops?.....I think that I better stock up on hair coloring. I’m pretty sure I’ll need it when this time around is over. Does the government give any kind of valor medals for this? They should.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, June 27, 2011
You can't teach an old dog new tricks
We adopted two small dogs last week. Their owner had been ill for quite awhile. She was unable to do much but keep them in their cage and take them out to potty several times a day. She loves them dearly. Letting them go hurt her but she knew it was for the best. They were accompanied by a lengthy, detailed letter describing schedule, habits and personality traits. This was great except for one thing- life here on our little farm is very different from what they have been used to. They are different dogs now!
Basically, they had few “social” skills. The first 24 hours they humped each other incessantly! It was driving us crazy! So was the non-stop barking. A friend suggested that being cooped in the kennel led to the humping. Nothing better to do was her thought. She also reminded us to be patient while the dogs’ brains rewired. She was right. Both behaviors have greatly lessened as we have worked with them.
In one week, they have learned to go to the door when they want out or in. They sleep on the couch at night instead of their kennel. They used to be fed in separate dishes to avoid conflict. They now share a dish with two other dogs and some cats. They are learning to play, to obey and to get along.
This past weekend, my husband and I sat through sixteen hours of a class preparing us to become foster parents. As we discussed case histories, childhood trauma, trust issues, etc., I continually thought of Stu and Mo. Children are a little more complex than dogs but the same principles apply. Patience, kindness, firm boundaries, lots of praise, cookies, timeouts and clear consistent rules can work miracles in an animal’s life. Can’t those same miracles be brought about in a child’s life?
Each time we bring new animals home, I am amazed at how quickly they adjust to new environments. I believe that people and animals can make incredible progress when the atmosphere is right. My own life attributes to that. My husband and I have both made many changes since we married five years ago.
So, the next time someone says, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks”, I’ll reply, “oh, yeah?!” Maybe I’ll even bark a few times.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Basically, they had few “social” skills. The first 24 hours they humped each other incessantly! It was driving us crazy! So was the non-stop barking. A friend suggested that being cooped in the kennel led to the humping. Nothing better to do was her thought. She also reminded us to be patient while the dogs’ brains rewired. She was right. Both behaviors have greatly lessened as we have worked with them.
In one week, they have learned to go to the door when they want out or in. They sleep on the couch at night instead of their kennel. They used to be fed in separate dishes to avoid conflict. They now share a dish with two other dogs and some cats. They are learning to play, to obey and to get along.
This past weekend, my husband and I sat through sixteen hours of a class preparing us to become foster parents. As we discussed case histories, childhood trauma, trust issues, etc., I continually thought of Stu and Mo. Children are a little more complex than dogs but the same principles apply. Patience, kindness, firm boundaries, lots of praise, cookies, timeouts and clear consistent rules can work miracles in an animal’s life. Can’t those same miracles be brought about in a child’s life?
Each time we bring new animals home, I am amazed at how quickly they adjust to new environments. I believe that people and animals can make incredible progress when the atmosphere is right. My own life attributes to that. My husband and I have both made many changes since we married five years ago.
So, the next time someone says, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks”, I’ll reply, “oh, yeah?!” Maybe I’ll even bark a few times.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, June 24, 2011
It takes a village....
Long, long ago in a galaxy far away from ours, people knew that “it took a village to raise a child”. It was a time when people looked out for one another, especially when it came to helping. Someone usually had your back.
I’d like to tell you a story about our village raising a child. There is a single mom in our town with three beautiful daughters. They moved to this area the same year we did. This mom loves her girls very much and has tried to teach them good values. It has not been easy for her to raise them. As with many single moms, her income is very small. She is unable to drive so her choices are limited. And she has struggled for years with a drug addiction.
The girls were between the ages of six and ten when they first arrived. Two are still in high school- one graduated last year and goes to a local college. They are smart, caring, compassionate girls. They have all participated in sports and other school activities. They love their mother.
I saw the oldest the other day working for our local parks and recreation department. The sight of her giving back to the community brought tears to my eyes. I know so well what she and her sisters could have turned into but this town would not let that happen.
Sport participation through the years has been paid for by local citizens. The beginning of each school year has seen someone taking them school shopping. Bags of clothes have been dropped at their door numerous times. Phones have been provided, food donated, rides given and safe homes made available as needed.
Others have gone to games to cheer them on, checked on report cards, and offered shoulders to cry on. They have been included family vacations and other outings. The girls have always been grateful and appreciative but I’m not sure they will truly understand what amazing things have happened until they are much older.
They struggle sometimes with the residue of such a life. They may always have scars but I hope that the day will come when they will remember the “village that raised” them. I pray they will have an understanding of how much love has been sent their way. Those inevitable days will come when they question their self-worth and their mother’s inability to choose their well being over her next fix. I think that at those times if they will hold tight to the love of all the other mothers they have known maybe it will be enough.
And I know that crowns of glory await all those mother hens who gathered the strays to their bosoms. I wish more of us could follow their example. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
I’d like to tell you a story about our village raising a child. There is a single mom in our town with three beautiful daughters. They moved to this area the same year we did. This mom loves her girls very much and has tried to teach them good values. It has not been easy for her to raise them. As with many single moms, her income is very small. She is unable to drive so her choices are limited. And she has struggled for years with a drug addiction.
The girls were between the ages of six and ten when they first arrived. Two are still in high school- one graduated last year and goes to a local college. They are smart, caring, compassionate girls. They have all participated in sports and other school activities. They love their mother.
I saw the oldest the other day working for our local parks and recreation department. The sight of her giving back to the community brought tears to my eyes. I know so well what she and her sisters could have turned into but this town would not let that happen.
Sport participation through the years has been paid for by local citizens. The beginning of each school year has seen someone taking them school shopping. Bags of clothes have been dropped at their door numerous times. Phones have been provided, food donated, rides given and safe homes made available as needed.
Others have gone to games to cheer them on, checked on report cards, and offered shoulders to cry on. They have been included family vacations and other outings. The girls have always been grateful and appreciative but I’m not sure they will truly understand what amazing things have happened until they are much older.
They struggle sometimes with the residue of such a life. They may always have scars but I hope that the day will come when they will remember the “village that raised” them. I pray they will have an understanding of how much love has been sent their way. Those inevitable days will come when they question their self-worth and their mother’s inability to choose their well being over her next fix. I think that at those times if they will hold tight to the love of all the other mothers they have known maybe it will be enough.
And I know that crowns of glory await all those mother hens who gathered the strays to their bosoms. I wish more of us could follow their example. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
SNAFU
I am in the middle of a snafu concerning our health insurance coverage. While trying to get to the bottom of things, I have discovered several other snafus. Actually, it’s a chain of people dropping the ball. The problem is I’m the person all the balls landed on and nobody wants to pick any of them back up!
Apparently, our insurance has a “six month” pre-existing condition wait. So for the first six months of our coverage, my fibromyalgia was not covered. Problem #1- employees do not get this information unless they ask for it. And we don’t know to ask for the info unless a problem arises. Even our local HR department did not know about this clause.
Since we did not know this, my doctor who was waiting for the insurance to kick in sent me to a specialist. The person who normally did these referrals and would have checked with our insurance company before doing so, was on maternity leave. The person filling in didn’t bother to check-problem#2.
Problem #3- the specialists’ office did call the insurance company before I started going there. That person was told that I was not covered. She was told that it would be better to postpone the appointment. She was given the date coverage started. But she did not pass this info along to me or to any other staff. I only know because the insurance company keeps good phone records. I have happily been paying my co-pay as requested with each visit.
And now, I owe over $2000. It has taken me a whole week and literally 30 phone calls to piece this puzzle together. I had to call multiple times because I didn’t know some of the right questions to ask until I received another puzzle piece from someone else.
I am trying to hold each person in the chain accountable for their part. They, however, have different ideas. So I’m getting the phone records from the insurance company to prove that that doctor’s office knew. I’m sharing that information with the lab that office used. I’m taking on the HR department of the huge corporation of Con-Agra to get them to automatically give out the benefits booklet to each new employee.
I’m sharing this because every step of the way I have been told- “this doesn’t come up much”, “nobody has ever asked that “, “this situation has not occurred before” and my personal favorite, “would you like a job in our office?”
I figure that they are a) lying thru their teeth or b) other people in similar circumstances just don’t do anything but complain about it- maybe they never get around to doing something or they think there is nothing they can do.
Which brings me back to the “snafu”, this term was first used as a military term- SNAFU. It means Situation Normal, All F….. Up. I think that pretty well describes the world we live in today, don’t you?
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Apparently, our insurance has a “six month” pre-existing condition wait. So for the first six months of our coverage, my fibromyalgia was not covered. Problem #1- employees do not get this information unless they ask for it. And we don’t know to ask for the info unless a problem arises. Even our local HR department did not know about this clause.
Since we did not know this, my doctor who was waiting for the insurance to kick in sent me to a specialist. The person who normally did these referrals and would have checked with our insurance company before doing so, was on maternity leave. The person filling in didn’t bother to check-problem#2.
Problem #3- the specialists’ office did call the insurance company before I started going there. That person was told that I was not covered. She was told that it would be better to postpone the appointment. She was given the date coverage started. But she did not pass this info along to me or to any other staff. I only know because the insurance company keeps good phone records. I have happily been paying my co-pay as requested with each visit.
And now, I owe over $2000. It has taken me a whole week and literally 30 phone calls to piece this puzzle together. I had to call multiple times because I didn’t know some of the right questions to ask until I received another puzzle piece from someone else.
I am trying to hold each person in the chain accountable for their part. They, however, have different ideas. So I’m getting the phone records from the insurance company to prove that that doctor’s office knew. I’m sharing that information with the lab that office used. I’m taking on the HR department of the huge corporation of Con-Agra to get them to automatically give out the benefits booklet to each new employee.
I’m sharing this because every step of the way I have been told- “this doesn’t come up much”, “nobody has ever asked that “, “this situation has not occurred before” and my personal favorite, “would you like a job in our office?”
I figure that they are a) lying thru their teeth or b) other people in similar circumstances just don’t do anything but complain about it- maybe they never get around to doing something or they think there is nothing they can do.
Which brings me back to the “snafu”, this term was first used as a military term- SNAFU. It means Situation Normal, All F….. Up. I think that pretty well describes the world we live in today, don’t you?
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, June 20, 2011
Yucchh! Old People Love!
I just heard a new Brad Paisley song about a couple wanting to feel the same excitement and get lost in the loving feelings that they had when they were a “new” couple. I have some things to share on the subject. If you, like my children, think that “old” people love is ggrrrooosss, stop reading now. If you have the wisdom to realize that you too will experience “old” people love one day, (if you are very lucky) then read on.
“New” love is like eating at a five star restaurant. Each course is tantalizing in its newness. It is tempting in its presentation. The excitement of discovery accompanies each new dish. The meal is designed to leave you wanting more and you do. Scanty portions and unfamiliar tastes combine to lure you on to the next dish. Rarely do you leave such a meal full and satiated. Few are those that could eat like this all the time.
“Old” love is like Grandma’s Sunday dinner. The menu may not vary much but the minute you step into the house and smell those biscuits the promise of complete satisfaction starts those taste buds salivating! You know what to expect. There are always perfect mashed potatoes. The ham is always accompanied by peas and the roast beef with a salad. Dessert may vary some but it’s always good. You know for sure that you will not go away hungry.
During the child raising years- McDonald’s might be on the menu more than you like but believe me when I say that nobody has forgotten how to cook. The hardest years are when you have teenagers to keep up with. Careers, too, might be needing extra attention at this time. Sometimes there isn’t even time for McDonalds- you may have to settle for tossing a poptart at each other.
Don’t panic!! This period of life is relatively short! Once the kids start leaving- whoa- you both get REAL interested in home cooking again. It’s really the best time of all because sometimes it’s the five star restaurant and sometimes it’s Sunday dinner and sometimes it’s McDonalds. Sometimes it’s all three!
Sometimes it’s just the poptart but even that is more filling than it ever was before because years of togetherness has flavored it until it’s just right for both of you. As a matter of fact, it’s even better than the five star meals used to be. This is because it is your own poptart, made from wholesome ingredients such as patience, unselfishness, experience and love.
And then you feel sorry for all those who think that five star meals are the best. They sure don’t know what they’re missing! That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
“New” love is like eating at a five star restaurant. Each course is tantalizing in its newness. It is tempting in its presentation. The excitement of discovery accompanies each new dish. The meal is designed to leave you wanting more and you do. Scanty portions and unfamiliar tastes combine to lure you on to the next dish. Rarely do you leave such a meal full and satiated. Few are those that could eat like this all the time.
“Old” love is like Grandma’s Sunday dinner. The menu may not vary much but the minute you step into the house and smell those biscuits the promise of complete satisfaction starts those taste buds salivating! You know what to expect. There are always perfect mashed potatoes. The ham is always accompanied by peas and the roast beef with a salad. Dessert may vary some but it’s always good. You know for sure that you will not go away hungry.
During the child raising years- McDonald’s might be on the menu more than you like but believe me when I say that nobody has forgotten how to cook. The hardest years are when you have teenagers to keep up with. Careers, too, might be needing extra attention at this time. Sometimes there isn’t even time for McDonalds- you may have to settle for tossing a poptart at each other.
Don’t panic!! This period of life is relatively short! Once the kids start leaving- whoa- you both get REAL interested in home cooking again. It’s really the best time of all because sometimes it’s the five star restaurant and sometimes it’s Sunday dinner and sometimes it’s McDonalds. Sometimes it’s all three!
Sometimes it’s just the poptart but even that is more filling than it ever was before because years of togetherness has flavored it until it’s just right for both of you. As a matter of fact, it’s even better than the five star meals used to be. This is because it is your own poptart, made from wholesome ingredients such as patience, unselfishness, experience and love.
And then you feel sorry for all those who think that five star meals are the best. They sure don’t know what they’re missing! That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, June 17, 2011
Growing up
My almost 13 yr. old daughter is furious with me because I won’t allow her to dye her hair. I can’t believe she wants to. Especially after I told her about the damage dye can do to hair and bodies. I said that when she is eighteen, she can choose for herself.
This is one of many “discussions” we’ve had about this type of thing. I am consistently dismayed to see her classmates with dyed hair, false nails, professional pedicures and waxed everything. Girls in her class have bras and underwear from stores whose wares used to be peddled from brown paper wrapped catalogues not in TV commercials.
My dismay is the fact that these “perks” used to come with being grown-up. When I see little girls like this, I wonder what they have to look forward to. Aren’t we depriving them of important “rites of passage”? We spent years waiting for the right to do some of these things! And it meant something when we passed each milestone.
I didn’t get my ears pierced until I was 18. My first sexy underwear when I was 21. I was already married! I was in my 40’s when I had my eyebrows waxed and my 50’s before I had a pedicure. These were privileges that came with aging. We didn’t change things about our looks until we’d had a chance to get comfortable them. I fear that today’s girls are changing who they are before they even know who they are.
And when do they get to be just kids? Being a kid is in itself an important “rite of passage”. We have eighteen short years to experience childhood before we have to spend the rest of our lives experiencing adulthood. It happens soon enough- parents, please, don’t rush it!!! Don’t let your children rush it!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
This is one of many “discussions” we’ve had about this type of thing. I am consistently dismayed to see her classmates with dyed hair, false nails, professional pedicures and waxed everything. Girls in her class have bras and underwear from stores whose wares used to be peddled from brown paper wrapped catalogues not in TV commercials.
My dismay is the fact that these “perks” used to come with being grown-up. When I see little girls like this, I wonder what they have to look forward to. Aren’t we depriving them of important “rites of passage”? We spent years waiting for the right to do some of these things! And it meant something when we passed each milestone.
I didn’t get my ears pierced until I was 18. My first sexy underwear when I was 21. I was already married! I was in my 40’s when I had my eyebrows waxed and my 50’s before I had a pedicure. These were privileges that came with aging. We didn’t change things about our looks until we’d had a chance to get comfortable them. I fear that today’s girls are changing who they are before they even know who they are.
And when do they get to be just kids? Being a kid is in itself an important “rite of passage”. We have eighteen short years to experience childhood before we have to spend the rest of our lives experiencing adulthood. It happens soon enough- parents, please, don’t rush it!!! Don’t let your children rush it!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Magic in the Park
Summer started Monday night. Well, maybe not according to the calendar or the weather, but definitely according to me! And yet again, I was reminded of why I love small town life.
In our little podunck town on the Columbia River, we have a beautiful riverside park, marina and campsite. In that park is a covered pavilion. On Monday nights throughout the summer, we have entertainment in that pavilion. We call the program, “Music in the Park”. Townspeople bring chairs, drinks, food, pets and children with them for an hour of magic.
The music is not always the best. The weather is not always cooperative. But the magic…….yes, the magic is there every time. Let me try to share the magic.
It begins with people carefully selecting the best place for them to place their chairs. Some choose to sit near friends, some choose the shade while others choose the sun. Some seek protection from the wind while others brave the wind to watch the glorious fiery sunset over a choppy Columbia River. Those with children position themselves to be able to watch both the playground and stage. Those with dogs sit in the outskirts.
Everyone is waving and calling out to each other. Our daily grind means nothing here. We have chosen to leave it all behind as we participate in this important rite of summer. This year has brought an ice cream vendor to the parking lot. Although we are freezing, he is kept very busy.
The welcome, the thank you for coming and the entertainer introduction is made. The crowd applauds. The music begins. This night brings a vocalist with his computer accompaniment. He sings some country, some Sinatra, some Elvis and some Ronnie Milsap. He’s okay.
A few couples get up to dance. They are over fifty. Someone tells the singer about a birthday. We all join in to sing it. The close to sixty year old birthday girl is on the dance floor. She is giggling, blushing and hiding her face on her husband’s shoulder. The magic has taken hold- she looks and feels like a fifteen year old girl!
More magic- a group of campers from Quebec are meandering around taking pictures excitedly. They join the dancers. It is obvious they are having the time of their life. Many dancing now are in their seventies and eighties but it’s Elvis! They look like teenagers in love as they bebop around. We are keeping rhythm with our claps.
A young man of eighty-three sets his wife in her chair and turns to one of our century old citizens. Is he asking her to dance? Can’t tell…..oh, yes, he is……she is getting up…..they are slow dancing to a love song. It’s the magic again. All of us are watching, some with smiles, some with tears. The editor of our small monthly paper hurries over to take pictures. There is a feeling of intimacy as we all share this moment and memory.
And suddenly, it is over. The magic dissipates as we again become people of different ages, cultures, languages, economic backgrounds, etc. We say our good-byes with reluctance and head home already looking forward to the next week and it’s magic. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
In our little podunck town on the Columbia River, we have a beautiful riverside park, marina and campsite. In that park is a covered pavilion. On Monday nights throughout the summer, we have entertainment in that pavilion. We call the program, “Music in the Park”. Townspeople bring chairs, drinks, food, pets and children with them for an hour of magic.
The music is not always the best. The weather is not always cooperative. But the magic…….yes, the magic is there every time. Let me try to share the magic.
It begins with people carefully selecting the best place for them to place their chairs. Some choose to sit near friends, some choose the shade while others choose the sun. Some seek protection from the wind while others brave the wind to watch the glorious fiery sunset over a choppy Columbia River. Those with children position themselves to be able to watch both the playground and stage. Those with dogs sit in the outskirts.
Everyone is waving and calling out to each other. Our daily grind means nothing here. We have chosen to leave it all behind as we participate in this important rite of summer. This year has brought an ice cream vendor to the parking lot. Although we are freezing, he is kept very busy.
The welcome, the thank you for coming and the entertainer introduction is made. The crowd applauds. The music begins. This night brings a vocalist with his computer accompaniment. He sings some country, some Sinatra, some Elvis and some Ronnie Milsap. He’s okay.
A few couples get up to dance. They are over fifty. Someone tells the singer about a birthday. We all join in to sing it. The close to sixty year old birthday girl is on the dance floor. She is giggling, blushing and hiding her face on her husband’s shoulder. The magic has taken hold- she looks and feels like a fifteen year old girl!
More magic- a group of campers from Quebec are meandering around taking pictures excitedly. They join the dancers. It is obvious they are having the time of their life. Many dancing now are in their seventies and eighties but it’s Elvis! They look like teenagers in love as they bebop around. We are keeping rhythm with our claps.
A young man of eighty-three sets his wife in her chair and turns to one of our century old citizens. Is he asking her to dance? Can’t tell…..oh, yes, he is……she is getting up…..they are slow dancing to a love song. It’s the magic again. All of us are watching, some with smiles, some with tears. The editor of our small monthly paper hurries over to take pictures. There is a feeling of intimacy as we all share this moment and memory.
And suddenly, it is over. The magic dissipates as we again become people of different ages, cultures, languages, economic backgrounds, etc. We say our good-byes with reluctance and head home already looking forward to the next week and it’s magic. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, June 13, 2011
I'm Baaaack!!!
I’m baaack!!!! After a three week hiatus, I’m ready to pick up the gauntlet and charge on. I had a severe case of what I call “battle fatigue”. I had sat down on the Monday morning after the end of the world was supposed to happen with a funny story about that subject. But that same weekend had brought the tornado devastation in the mid-west.
As I was writing about the end of the world which never came, all I could think of was – it was the end of the world for the towns annihilated by tornadoes. It was the end of the world for the Japanese. It was the end of the world for victims of abuse, violence, theft, addictions, and for so many living in this imperfect world. Who was I to make a joke about such pain? I have felt that pain myself.
I let myself become overwhelmed with the sadness, the emptiness, the suffering of my fellow earth dwellers. What was the point of a stupid silly blog anyway? It doesn’t make anything better. We are surrounded by evil- it sometimes feels like putting a fire out with a glass of water!
It’s been almost a year since I began this blog. I committed that I would give it a year of my best effort. I think I expected it to take off like a bird in flight. I could see how easily that could happen- if everyone I knew read it and each one of them told a friend, who would tell a friend, who would tell a friend, etc.
I did not take in to consideration that most of my friends are computer illiterate or that people are too busy to read or …….. Needless to say, I’m not famous with a huge fan base of readers. ( I have a few very faithful readers including one dear soul in Malaysia that keeps hanging on. I have no clue who it is.)
So I stopped writing for awhile. I took three weeks to go on a soul searching adventure. It’s been quite a trip! And I realized that if my blog just makes one person’s day a little better than it is worth it. Then I realized that it always makes one person’s day better- mine! And that is good enough. In fact, that is enough to keep going no matter what!
That is why I’m back. And if some of you are touched as well, that’s a bonus! That’s the few from my side of the street, what’s yours?
As I was writing about the end of the world which never came, all I could think of was – it was the end of the world for the towns annihilated by tornadoes. It was the end of the world for the Japanese. It was the end of the world for victims of abuse, violence, theft, addictions, and for so many living in this imperfect world. Who was I to make a joke about such pain? I have felt that pain myself.
I let myself become overwhelmed with the sadness, the emptiness, the suffering of my fellow earth dwellers. What was the point of a stupid silly blog anyway? It doesn’t make anything better. We are surrounded by evil- it sometimes feels like putting a fire out with a glass of water!
It’s been almost a year since I began this blog. I committed that I would give it a year of my best effort. I think I expected it to take off like a bird in flight. I could see how easily that could happen- if everyone I knew read it and each one of them told a friend, who would tell a friend, who would tell a friend, etc.
I did not take in to consideration that most of my friends are computer illiterate or that people are too busy to read or …….. Needless to say, I’m not famous with a huge fan base of readers. ( I have a few very faithful readers including one dear soul in Malaysia that keeps hanging on. I have no clue who it is.)
So I stopped writing for awhile. I took three weeks to go on a soul searching adventure. It’s been quite a trip! And I realized that if my blog just makes one person’s day a little better than it is worth it. Then I realized that it always makes one person’s day better- mine! And that is good enough. In fact, that is enough to keep going no matter what!
That is why I’m back. And if some of you are touched as well, that’s a bonus! That’s the few from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, May 20, 2011
Ogle Worthy?!
My husband hasn’t a romantic bone in his body- not even a sliver of one. We‘ve been married five years and he just now has started to recognize my birthday, Valentines’ Day, anniversary, etc. He doesn’t give compliments or say sweet things.
When we were first married, this concerned me greatly. One day I shared with my son the fact that I wouldn’t know how he felt if it wasn’t for our nighttime prayers. My son than taught me a valuable lesson about men.
According to my son (and other men I asked), the highest compliment they can give is to tell someone else about you. When we say things to them like- you are so cute, you did a great job on the dishes, etc. etc., they like it but if they hear you tell someone else- my husband did a great job on the dishes, his new haircut is so cute, etc. etc. then it REALLY means something to them.
My son said, “Mom, he’s telling GOD how great you are, what more do you want?” To which his wife and myself both replied, “To hear it ourselves once in awhile!”
So something that happened yesterday is possibly the sweetest thing my husband has ever done! We were on the freeway. I was driving. It was a very pretty afternoon. Oblivious to all around me, I jumped when my husband hollered out the window, “She’s old enough to be your mother!”
“What?????” I asked. He pointed to the pickup that had just passed us. I could see that he was upset. Confused because my husband rarely pays attention to other drivers I asked if there had been a young man and older woman in it. Apparently not- he was angry because he thought that the young men in the truck were ogling ME!
I began to laugh. I probably should have been mad about the “old” comment but the fact that he thought it was even possible that I was being ogled was so amazing. And by younger men! And he was mad about it!!! WOW!
I explained that I hadn’t been ogled in about a century. I reassured him that I hadn’t even noticed. I thanked him for thinking I was ogle worthy. But the whole time I was thinking that this was the best compliment I had ever received!
Who cares if he doesn’t tell me I look nice? He really believes that I am ogle worthy!!! That will get me through the next five, no, probably, ten years.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
When we were first married, this concerned me greatly. One day I shared with my son the fact that I wouldn’t know how he felt if it wasn’t for our nighttime prayers. My son than taught me a valuable lesson about men.
According to my son (and other men I asked), the highest compliment they can give is to tell someone else about you. When we say things to them like- you are so cute, you did a great job on the dishes, etc. etc., they like it but if they hear you tell someone else- my husband did a great job on the dishes, his new haircut is so cute, etc. etc. then it REALLY means something to them.
My son said, “Mom, he’s telling GOD how great you are, what more do you want?” To which his wife and myself both replied, “To hear it ourselves once in awhile!”
So something that happened yesterday is possibly the sweetest thing my husband has ever done! We were on the freeway. I was driving. It was a very pretty afternoon. Oblivious to all around me, I jumped when my husband hollered out the window, “She’s old enough to be your mother!”
“What?????” I asked. He pointed to the pickup that had just passed us. I could see that he was upset. Confused because my husband rarely pays attention to other drivers I asked if there had been a young man and older woman in it. Apparently not- he was angry because he thought that the young men in the truck were ogling ME!
I began to laugh. I probably should have been mad about the “old” comment but the fact that he thought it was even possible that I was being ogled was so amazing. And by younger men! And he was mad about it!!! WOW!
I explained that I hadn’t been ogled in about a century. I reassured him that I hadn’t even noticed. I thanked him for thinking I was ogle worthy. But the whole time I was thinking that this was the best compliment I had ever received!
Who cares if he doesn’t tell me I look nice? He really believes that I am ogle worthy!!! That will get me through the next five, no, probably, ten years.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Different Flavors
I am opening an antique/gift shop with two of my friends. It’s something we have all wanted to do for a long time. We’ve actually been working towards it for a number of years but finally, everything is set to fall together. We open in about a week.
Over the past year, as we have explored our options and done our homework, we’ve each tossed around ideas for the name of our store. Here are the three names we’ve come up with:
1. Too Much Junk in the Trunk
2. Once Upon a Time
3. The Three Sisters
I think that those who know the three of us would have no problem matching the person to the name. And again, I am reminded of the amazing way our differences enrich one another’s lives. Think of what an incredible world we would live in if differences were embraced rather than shunned or avoided. We should find joy in one another’s differences and realize how each of us has our own flavor to add. Can you imagine an ice cream store with only vanilla?
“The Three Sisters” was the invention of my artist friend. In Indian lore, the three sisters are beans, corn and pumpkin. They were planted together to give support and protection to each other. She loves symbolisms.
“Once Upon a Time” is the creation of my librarian friend. Her taste in things is romantic and old fashioned.
“Too Much Junk in the Trunk” was my brainchild. It is quirky and I like the play on words. Yes, we have too much junk, hence the store but I also have too much junk in my other trunk (the one I sit on).
We have all had a good laugh about how clearly each name represented the inventor. We also think we might have a solution- “Once upon a time, three sisters had too much junk in their trunk!” We aren’t sure if we can afford the sign or business cards we’d have with a name like that, though.
Oh, well, it’s already promising to be a very eclectic type store. But our particular flavors blend well so it should be a success!!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Over the past year, as we have explored our options and done our homework, we’ve each tossed around ideas for the name of our store. Here are the three names we’ve come up with:
1. Too Much Junk in the Trunk
2. Once Upon a Time
3. The Three Sisters
I think that those who know the three of us would have no problem matching the person to the name. And again, I am reminded of the amazing way our differences enrich one another’s lives. Think of what an incredible world we would live in if differences were embraced rather than shunned or avoided. We should find joy in one another’s differences and realize how each of us has our own flavor to add. Can you imagine an ice cream store with only vanilla?
“The Three Sisters” was the invention of my artist friend. In Indian lore, the three sisters are beans, corn and pumpkin. They were planted together to give support and protection to each other. She loves symbolisms.
“Once Upon a Time” is the creation of my librarian friend. Her taste in things is romantic and old fashioned.
“Too Much Junk in the Trunk” was my brainchild. It is quirky and I like the play on words. Yes, we have too much junk, hence the store but I also have too much junk in my other trunk (the one I sit on).
We have all had a good laugh about how clearly each name represented the inventor. We also think we might have a solution- “Once upon a time, three sisters had too much junk in their trunk!” We aren’t sure if we can afford the sign or business cards we’d have with a name like that, though.
Oh, well, it’s already promising to be a very eclectic type store. But our particular flavors blend well so it should be a success!!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, May 16, 2011
Hungry Hearts
While working on a project this past week, I have watched one whole season of Hoarders and one whole season of Intervention on my Netflix. I’m sad. I’m very sad to see so many hurting, hopeless, empty people all searching for acceptance, love, and belonging. I call it being “heart hungry”.
“Heart hunger” is a world wide epidemic. Hungry hearts all over the planet are trying to fill the whole with things- belongings, drugs, alcohol, food, sex, etc. They try anything that will quiet the hunger and give the illusion of fullness.
What is “heart hunger”? It’s a lack of intimacy with other human beings. That kind of intimacy should exist in families and friendships. It doesn’t always. It is based on trust, faithfulness, compassion, forgiveness, understanding and acceptance.
It’s that feeling that someone has your back, is honest enough to tell you the hard stuff and will blow away the chaff while hanging on to the wheat of your life. It is not enough to find people like this. We must also be people like this.
I think that “heart hunger” has spread so quickly because we seem to have forgotten that our capacity to feel and give love grows as we use it. When we hold on to our caring which we often do because of fear, we gradually stop being able to care.
The scriptures refer to today as a time when “the love of man waxes cold”. Wow, that hits it right on the head, don’t you think? Friends, neighbors, relatives used to form a great support group in each others lives. And everyone needs that kind of support but most do not have it.
Won’t you all join with me to fight “heart hunger”? Make a promise today to spread “love and good cheer”. Give smiles, compliments, gratitude to all around you, whether you know them or not. Be forgiving of intended and unintended hurts. Ask someone if you can help them. If you know someone is hurting- reach out, don’t turn away.
I’ve remembered for years a certain episode of the original Star Trek. A mind reading entity occupied a human for the sake of communicating. While experiencing being human for a few minutes, the entity remarked, “How lonely you all are! You have only your own thoughts for company. How do you stand it?” The answer is we don’t.
Love, caring, compassion and understanding are the most powerful tools we have to dispel the darkness we see all around us. And the most amazing part is when we use these tools to help others who are hurting, our hurting is diminished. It’s a win- win!! You can’t say that about too many things!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
“Heart hunger” is a world wide epidemic. Hungry hearts all over the planet are trying to fill the whole with things- belongings, drugs, alcohol, food, sex, etc. They try anything that will quiet the hunger and give the illusion of fullness.
What is “heart hunger”? It’s a lack of intimacy with other human beings. That kind of intimacy should exist in families and friendships. It doesn’t always. It is based on trust, faithfulness, compassion, forgiveness, understanding and acceptance.
It’s that feeling that someone has your back, is honest enough to tell you the hard stuff and will blow away the chaff while hanging on to the wheat of your life. It is not enough to find people like this. We must also be people like this.
I think that “heart hunger” has spread so quickly because we seem to have forgotten that our capacity to feel and give love grows as we use it. When we hold on to our caring which we often do because of fear, we gradually stop being able to care.
The scriptures refer to today as a time when “the love of man waxes cold”. Wow, that hits it right on the head, don’t you think? Friends, neighbors, relatives used to form a great support group in each others lives. And everyone needs that kind of support but most do not have it.
Won’t you all join with me to fight “heart hunger”? Make a promise today to spread “love and good cheer”. Give smiles, compliments, gratitude to all around you, whether you know them or not. Be forgiving of intended and unintended hurts. Ask someone if you can help them. If you know someone is hurting- reach out, don’t turn away.
I’ve remembered for years a certain episode of the original Star Trek. A mind reading entity occupied a human for the sake of communicating. While experiencing being human for a few minutes, the entity remarked, “How lonely you all are! You have only your own thoughts for company. How do you stand it?” The answer is we don’t.
Love, caring, compassion and understanding are the most powerful tools we have to dispel the darkness we see all around us. And the most amazing part is when we use these tools to help others who are hurting, our hurting is diminished. It’s a win- win!! You can’t say that about too many things!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Friday, May 13, 2011
Pantyhose
I bought new panty hose last week. This was a big deal because I only wear it for a few hours on Sundays. I haven’t had to buy new for years. The presence of my husband hurried me thru the process of making a choice. I read the boxes carefully but there were so many variables- size, color, toe guard, no toe guard, control top, etc.
I finally settled on one of the boxes and that was that. Sunday morning arrived and I confidently pulled my new stockings from the drawer. I unrolled a pair and began to put them on. This is not always an easy task but this particular morning I struggled more than usual. The elastic in these babies could have been used for a sling shot.
I huffed and I puffed as I worked at stuffing my fat legs into them. No, that’s not accurate. I was not stuffing my legs into them. I was trying to stretch the hose as I struggled to unroll them. When I finally completed the task I felt like someone had wrapped my legs and buttocks with ace bandages.
My husband was thoroughly amused by my situation. I did a Frankenstein walk to the box these things had come out of. I knew what was wrong the minute I looked. Instead of buying the much more comfortable control top stockings which I had intended to purchase, I had bought “support hose”!
For those who aren’t familiar with that type of panty hose, let me introduce you. They are see through elastic bandages usually used by old ladies with varicose veins. If you’ve ever had a surgery, this type of leg wear was placed on your legs to prevent blood clots.
Decades ago, when I worked in nursing homes, the job of putting someone’s support hose on was one to be avoided at all costs. Flashbacks of such incidents flooded my brain. I remember one large older woman who had to wear them everyday. It took thirty minutes to complete the task. And I now owned three pair!
There is a plus side though. It takes a chainsaw to put a run in these things. They might very well be the last pairs of stockings I ever buy. And the struggle to put them on each week should count towards my cardio workouts!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
I finally settled on one of the boxes and that was that. Sunday morning arrived and I confidently pulled my new stockings from the drawer. I unrolled a pair and began to put them on. This is not always an easy task but this particular morning I struggled more than usual. The elastic in these babies could have been used for a sling shot.
I huffed and I puffed as I worked at stuffing my fat legs into them. No, that’s not accurate. I was not stuffing my legs into them. I was trying to stretch the hose as I struggled to unroll them. When I finally completed the task I felt like someone had wrapped my legs and buttocks with ace bandages.
My husband was thoroughly amused by my situation. I did a Frankenstein walk to the box these things had come out of. I knew what was wrong the minute I looked. Instead of buying the much more comfortable control top stockings which I had intended to purchase, I had bought “support hose”!
For those who aren’t familiar with that type of panty hose, let me introduce you. They are see through elastic bandages usually used by old ladies with varicose veins. If you’ve ever had a surgery, this type of leg wear was placed on your legs to prevent blood clots.
Decades ago, when I worked in nursing homes, the job of putting someone’s support hose on was one to be avoided at all costs. Flashbacks of such incidents flooded my brain. I remember one large older woman who had to wear them everyday. It took thirty minutes to complete the task. And I now owned three pair!
There is a plus side though. It takes a chainsaw to put a run in these things. They might very well be the last pairs of stockings I ever buy. And the struggle to put them on each week should count towards my cardio workouts!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Chapstick
You know the old saying- “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure”? I found out how true this was recently. I am a chapstick girl. I always have it on hand and I use it regularly. I have for years. Well, this particular day, I was outside working with my husband. It was sunny but also very windy. We were doing dirty work. My lips were getting drier by the minute but I didn’t want to stop to go in and get my chapstick. I toughed it out, licking them when the dryness was unbearable.
Oh, boy, did I regret it that night. My lips were sun burnt, desert dry and oh, so, sore! It had been a long time since my lips had suffered so much. Out came the Vaseline. I slathered it on my mouth every time I thought of it. I did this for 2 days. My lips were still sore but I could use my regular chapstick by then. It actually took almost 5 days for the effects of my negligence to disappear completely.
I kicked myself several times for being so stupid! I knew better! What was I thinking? Then I began likening this situation to others in my life. How many times did I choose to not take the simple precautions that would have saved hours, days, even years of misery?
I started thinking of the other “chapsticks” in my life that I had been too busy or too preoccupied or too stubborn to have used. I remembered a car accident that put my entire family at risk because I ignored bad weather reports and didn’t head for home earlier as I should have. I knew better.
I remembered a physical attack that came to me as a young girl walking home on streets I shouldn’t have at a time I shouldn’t have. I knew better.
I remembered a time when I trusted someone against my better judgement and others advice. I shouldn’t have. I knew better.
My list goes on as probably yours could too. The price paid for not using my “chapsticks” was very high as it is in all of our lives. An ounce of prevention is always worth a pound of cure.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Oh, boy, did I regret it that night. My lips were sun burnt, desert dry and oh, so, sore! It had been a long time since my lips had suffered so much. Out came the Vaseline. I slathered it on my mouth every time I thought of it. I did this for 2 days. My lips were still sore but I could use my regular chapstick by then. It actually took almost 5 days for the effects of my negligence to disappear completely.
I kicked myself several times for being so stupid! I knew better! What was I thinking? Then I began likening this situation to others in my life. How many times did I choose to not take the simple precautions that would have saved hours, days, even years of misery?
I started thinking of the other “chapsticks” in my life that I had been too busy or too preoccupied or too stubborn to have used. I remembered a car accident that put my entire family at risk because I ignored bad weather reports and didn’t head for home earlier as I should have. I knew better.
I remembered a physical attack that came to me as a young girl walking home on streets I shouldn’t have at a time I shouldn’t have. I knew better.
I remembered a time when I trusted someone against my better judgement and others advice. I shouldn’t have. I knew better.
My list goes on as probably yours could too. The price paid for not using my “chapsticks” was very high as it is in all of our lives. An ounce of prevention is always worth a pound of cure.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
Monday, May 9, 2011
The Four Agreements
A friend has loaned me a book. It is called “The Four Agreements”. It was put together by Don Miguel Ruiz. It is a book that teaches ancient beliefs practiced by people in Mexico ions ago. I have not read it yet but I wanted to share what the four agreements are. I think they are simple but powerful principles.
I am quoting from the fly leaf of the book- 1. BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORD. Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.
2. DON’T TAKE ANYTHING PERSONALLY. Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.
3. DON’T MAKE ASSUMPTIONS. Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness, and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.
4. ALWAYS DO YOUR BEST. Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse, and regret.
I have been trying to put these truths into practice for the past year. I can’t begin to share the ways my life has changed. I believe that in the confusing, tumultuous times in which we find ourselves peace amid the storm is all we can hope to achieve. But I know that it can be achieved.
Please share these principles with others. It will be life changing for all who apply them in their lives. I’ve also seen what can happen to those who do not follow this advice.
I know that these principles work- they are simple but so powerful. But don’t just take my word for it! Try them yourselves. That’s the view from my side of the street, what's yours?
I am quoting from the fly leaf of the book- 1. BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORD. Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.
2. DON’T TAKE ANYTHING PERSONALLY. Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.
3. DON’T MAKE ASSUMPTIONS. Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness, and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.
4. ALWAYS DO YOUR BEST. Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse, and regret.
I have been trying to put these truths into practice for the past year. I can’t begin to share the ways my life has changed. I believe that in the confusing, tumultuous times in which we find ourselves peace amid the storm is all we can hope to achieve. But I know that it can be achieved.
Please share these principles with others. It will be life changing for all who apply them in their lives. I’ve also seen what can happen to those who do not follow this advice.
I know that these principles work- they are simple but so powerful. But don’t just take my word for it! Try them yourselves. That’s the view from my side of the street, what's yours?
Friday, May 6, 2011
Bargaining
A good friend of mine is preparing her home and life for a teenage grandson to join. His dad is deploying to Afghanistan and the grandson wants to live with his grandparents during this time. He wants it very, very much! He has wanted it so much over the past year that he has insisted that his grandmother plead with God to set it up for them. He has begged God, his father and his grandparents. He has uttered those words so familiar to many of us-“If you let me do this, (God, Dad or Grandma), I’ll do anything you want me to!! I promise!!”
And so his wish was granted. The miracle he thought would never happen did. Oh, what a happy boy! He is coming as soon as school lets out. BUT as the months have passed and he has become accustomed to his “miracle”, he has begun the “bargaining” stage. “Grandma, I’ll pick up the dog poop outside but I won’t do the catbox.” “Grandma, I’ll mow the lawn and use the weed eater but I won’t pull weeds, I hate that.” We can only guess at his “bargains” with God.
As she shared this story with me, we both chuckled and remembered some of our childhood “bargains” with parents and God. On the way home, however, I thought of our adult “bargains”. We may not express them in the same way but we have all had things in our lives that we have thought “if only this would happen, I’ll be so happy.”
We have ALL had prayers answered and miracles take place even if we don’t recognize them as such. Before the particular event takes place, it seems so unattainable, so marvelous an occurrence that we think it can never happen. But then it does. At the moment, it is mind blowing and awesome. As time goes by, it is less and less so. We become accustomed to it. It is part of our everyday and as such loses some of its “miracle” shine.
And at that point, we forget our promises back when we wanted it so much. We begin to “bargain” or much more likely in our today’s world- justify. That raise wasn’t because I asked for it- it was just time for it. The new job or baby or home or friend or living room set or the list of things we want and don’t think we can get is endless. The child or husband or father or sister that overcame that illness or personal crisis just did so. Begging on their behalf had nothing to do with it.
We miss so much when we forget from whence our blessings flow. We miss so much when we don’t see the day to day “miracles” in our lives. We miss the joy of knowing we are loved and cared about. We lose sight of that which brings so much happiness to our lives- gratitude. Be thankful for today and all that it brings- today is a miracle that you will never experience again. Enjoy every moment even poop duty.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
And so his wish was granted. The miracle he thought would never happen did. Oh, what a happy boy! He is coming as soon as school lets out. BUT as the months have passed and he has become accustomed to his “miracle”, he has begun the “bargaining” stage. “Grandma, I’ll pick up the dog poop outside but I won’t do the catbox.” “Grandma, I’ll mow the lawn and use the weed eater but I won’t pull weeds, I hate that.” We can only guess at his “bargains” with God.
As she shared this story with me, we both chuckled and remembered some of our childhood “bargains” with parents and God. On the way home, however, I thought of our adult “bargains”. We may not express them in the same way but we have all had things in our lives that we have thought “if only this would happen, I’ll be so happy.”
We have ALL had prayers answered and miracles take place even if we don’t recognize them as such. Before the particular event takes place, it seems so unattainable, so marvelous an occurrence that we think it can never happen. But then it does. At the moment, it is mind blowing and awesome. As time goes by, it is less and less so. We become accustomed to it. It is part of our everyday and as such loses some of its “miracle” shine.
And at that point, we forget our promises back when we wanted it so much. We begin to “bargain” or much more likely in our today’s world- justify. That raise wasn’t because I asked for it- it was just time for it. The new job or baby or home or friend or living room set or the list of things we want and don’t think we can get is endless. The child or husband or father or sister that overcame that illness or personal crisis just did so. Begging on their behalf had nothing to do with it.
We miss so much when we forget from whence our blessings flow. We miss so much when we don’t see the day to day “miracles” in our lives. We miss the joy of knowing we are loved and cared about. We lose sight of that which brings so much happiness to our lives- gratitude. Be thankful for today and all that it brings- today is a miracle that you will never experience again. Enjoy every moment even poop duty.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?
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