Today I decided to wrap up my Christmas shopping. Yeah, right. I started at B.J.'s, where I knew I would do a lot of browsing and end up actually buying very little. I ended up with exactly 3 things in my cart, and just as I was about to go to the register, over the P.A. came the announcement and apology that their registers were all down, as a consequence of some problem in the computer system. "We hope it will be fixed in a few minutes." Well, when the lines at registers grew to about 25 people with FULL carts, I decided to bail. I dutifully returned my items to the shelves, which was more than a lot of people were doing, and left, having spent way more than an hour and accomplishing nothing.
I finally returned home for some lunch, and at 2:00 when I was just finishing, my mother called to tell me that she had a piece of mail that she knew was important, but she didn't know what it was. Was I planning to come over? Yes, I was, visiting her for the 6th day this week. The important piece of mail? A summons to jury duty in Strafford County Superior Court. Oh yeah, right. So, I just filled out the form, and have to get a physician's statement as to why she wouldn't exactly be a great juror, and return the form and letter to the court by Dec. 30th. I probably should have let her fill out the form - that would have been an immediate demonstration of why they don't want her on a jury . . .
Before January 15, I have another form to fill out for the Dept. of Health and Human Services, certifying that she is still eligible for Medicaid. I guess this is an every 6 month ritual. Accompanying the form I have to send proof of unearned income, bank statements photocopied for the past 6 months and proof of social security payments. That will take a large chunk of a morning. . . . . Sometimes I wonder why it is that I never seem to get anything done that needs to be done in my own life, and other days, I know exactly why I don't. I didn't finish my shopping today, but I have put the Christmas candles in the windows - my first step in drumming up some Christmas cheer here at 16 Valentine Hill Rd.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Choose your own adventure
So in the scheme of things, when a door knob falls off, it doesn't seem like such a big deal. So when the door knob fell off of the bathroom door on the inside, I put it on the counter and said to myself "I'll put this back on later." The bathroom door hasn't shut for about 6 months, humidity having caused it to swell.
Just imagine my surprise, when I walked into the bathroom this morning to take a shower, pushed the door toward "closed" behind me, and heard it latch. Oh, bummer. I'm shut in the bathroom, and possibly, I won't be able to get out. I eye the door knob on the counter, and look at the shaft where it belongs, extending into the bathroom. I try to turn the shaft, thinking that's my best hope for getting out. Nothing budges. Starting to panic, I open the drawer where there has always been a screwdriver (anyway in the old bathroom there was) and I have some lunatic idea that I can remove the door hinges.
Only there's no screwdriver in the drawer.
My next move (big mistake) is to try to put the door knob back on. All I succeed in doing is causing the door knob shank to retreat to the other side of the door. Now what? I search the bathroom for something I can use as a tool, any kind of tool. I think if I can use a credit card like object, maybe I can get the door open. (At least that's the way the burglars do it on t.v. ....)
I finally find a pair of tweezers, bend them so they are straight out instead of in a V-shape, and I have my tool.
Here's the choose your own adventure part:
Did I:
A. Remove the hinges using the tweezers like a screw driver?
B. Use the tweezers in between the door and the jamb to leverage the latch back into the door, allowing it to open?
Or
C. Take the screen out of the window and yell "HELP" at the top of my lungs, hoping the construction crew next door will hear me.
Leave your comments!!! I'm out, and that's all I'll tell you! And, for the double bonus prize, What is the first thing I do when I get out of the bathroom???
Just imagine my surprise, when I walked into the bathroom this morning to take a shower, pushed the door toward "closed" behind me, and heard it latch. Oh, bummer. I'm shut in the bathroom, and possibly, I won't be able to get out. I eye the door knob on the counter, and look at the shaft where it belongs, extending into the bathroom. I try to turn the shaft, thinking that's my best hope for getting out. Nothing budges. Starting to panic, I open the drawer where there has always been a screwdriver (anyway in the old bathroom there was) and I have some lunatic idea that I can remove the door hinges.
Only there's no screwdriver in the drawer.
My next move (big mistake) is to try to put the door knob back on. All I succeed in doing is causing the door knob shank to retreat to the other side of the door. Now what? I search the bathroom for something I can use as a tool, any kind of tool. I think if I can use a credit card like object, maybe I can get the door open. (At least that's the way the burglars do it on t.v. ....)
I finally find a pair of tweezers, bend them so they are straight out instead of in a V-shape, and I have my tool.
Here's the choose your own adventure part:
Did I:
A. Remove the hinges using the tweezers like a screw driver?
B. Use the tweezers in between the door and the jamb to leverage the latch back into the door, allowing it to open?
Or
C. Take the screen out of the window and yell "HELP" at the top of my lungs, hoping the construction crew next door will hear me.
Leave your comments!!! I'm out, and that's all I'll tell you! And, for the double bonus prize, What is the first thing I do when I get out of the bathroom???
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Just a passing thought
It occurred to me today when reading about Tiger taking an indefinite time off from playing golf in order to focus on his family and his relationship with his wife, that possibly there's money to be made on establishing a rehab center for the famous (and now infamous) men who cheat on their wives. Just imagine a place where they could check in, stay for the length of, say, a PGA golf season, and come out moral. What would it take? A 12-step program? All day in prayer? Sharp knives wielded over delicate parts of their body?
So joining Tiger in rehab would be Bill Clinton, John Edwards, Eliot Spitzer and S.C. governor Mark (?) Sanford for starters. And who was that NBA basketball star who maintained he had slept with over a thousand women? I forget. But they deserve a few weeks together in isolation to talk over the nature of arrogance, the effects of power, the hypocrisy of their public lives and most of all, their stupidity.
So joining Tiger in rehab would be Bill Clinton, John Edwards, Eliot Spitzer and S.C. governor Mark (?) Sanford for starters. And who was that NBA basketball star who maintained he had slept with over a thousand women? I forget. But they deserve a few weeks together in isolation to talk over the nature of arrogance, the effects of power, the hypocrisy of their public lives and most of all, their stupidity.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Letter to the Editor, Boston Globe
Dear Editor,
Once again I am stunned by the hypocrisy of the Catholic Church. Your article “Irish bishops faulted on abuse” brings home the continuing saga of pedophilic and abusive priests who terrorized children in Dublin for decades while the church leaders looked the other way.
Who should be denied Communion, Representative Patrick Kennedy for his support of a woman’s right to choose, or the Catholic bishops of this world? "Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone."
Your faithful reader,
Big Red
Once again I am stunned by the hypocrisy of the Catholic Church. Your article “Irish bishops faulted on abuse” brings home the continuing saga of pedophilic and abusive priests who terrorized children in Dublin for decades while the church leaders looked the other way.
Who should be denied Communion, Representative Patrick Kennedy for his support of a woman’s right to choose, or the Catholic bishops of this world? "Let he who has not sinned cast the first stone."
Your faithful reader,
Big Red
More fun and games: Bingo in Baghdad
Seriously, you couldn't make most of this stuff up. The Globe today had many more ads than they usually do, so, they needed more pages, and so, I guess, they came up with more "news." I mean it. Here we are on the verge of sending more soldiers to the Middle East, and I know your heart will be warmed by the article that focuses on how FINALLY, after all the violence in Baghdad for the past six years, "an 85-year-old elite social club is making a comeback." Well, thank goodness for that!
There's an open bar and loud music, and best of all, Saturday Night Bingo. Early in the history of the club, one could only become a member if A) he/she was a college graduate and B) knew a foreign language. During the "bad years" of the U.S. invasion, (my quotations marks) in order to attract members, those requirements had to be dropped. Now, though, they have been able to reinstate the requirements, and hope to "weed out" the scumbags who joined up while bombs were falling throughout the city - even cracking their swimming pool. Oh no! But not to worry - the swimming pool has been fixed and plans are afoot to build a bowling alley, gymnasium and cafeteria. Probably another opportunity for KBR to get the contract on that new construction. The best part of the club (and I mean this sincerely) is that Shi'ites, Sunnis and Christians all come together there, and no one seems to mind.
So, I want to thank the Globe for bringing us this heartwarming look at how much stability we have brought to Baghdad. Such a club represents democracy in action, don't you think? I mean, you can't get much more democratic than Saturday night Bingo.
I just wonder if it was worth the lives of 4366 American soldiers, 31,571 seriously wounded and countless thousands (between 50,000 and 600,000) of Iraqi civilians?
There's an open bar and loud music, and best of all, Saturday Night Bingo. Early in the history of the club, one could only become a member if A) he/she was a college graduate and B) knew a foreign language. During the "bad years" of the U.S. invasion, (my quotations marks) in order to attract members, those requirements had to be dropped. Now, though, they have been able to reinstate the requirements, and hope to "weed out" the scumbags who joined up while bombs were falling throughout the city - even cracking their swimming pool. Oh no! But not to worry - the swimming pool has been fixed and plans are afoot to build a bowling alley, gymnasium and cafeteria. Probably another opportunity for KBR to get the contract on that new construction. The best part of the club (and I mean this sincerely) is that Shi'ites, Sunnis and Christians all come together there, and no one seems to mind.
So, I want to thank the Globe for bringing us this heartwarming look at how much stability we have brought to Baghdad. Such a club represents democracy in action, don't you think? I mean, you can't get much more democratic than Saturday night Bingo.
I just wonder if it was worth the lives of 4366 American soldiers, 31,571 seriously wounded and countless thousands (between 50,000 and 600,000) of Iraqi civilians?
A welcome update
Immediately after I wrote my last post, yesterday's Globe announced that the White House had issued a statement that the previous day's statement regarding land mines was in error. The administration hasn't decided yet regarding signing on to the International Land Mine Treaty. Add another thin layer to my string of hope for Obama.
Today's Globe features an article about a golf course in the DMZ between North and South Korea which was created to alleviate the boredom of the American troops stationed there. The troop contingent is down to 50, and needless to say, there is no night (or day) life there. Here's the kicker to the golf course, along the left-hand side is the heavily mined North Korean border. No one retrieves balls from the "rough." According to the news article, an errant shot can set off an explosion in the minefield. Oh yeah, let's sanction more minefields and more "fun" golf courses for our troops. Enough said.
Today's Globe features an article about a golf course in the DMZ between North and South Korea which was created to alleviate the boredom of the American troops stationed there. The troop contingent is down to 50, and needless to say, there is no night (or day) life there. Here's the kicker to the golf course, along the left-hand side is the heavily mined North Korean border. No one retrieves balls from the "rough." According to the news article, an errant shot can set off an explosion in the minefield. Oh yeah, let's sanction more minefields and more "fun" golf courses for our troops. Enough said.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
The Ignobel
I have been cooking like a mad fiend today, along with many others in the nation - those of us lucky enough to have homes, food and family to share Thanksgiving dinner with. The news inside my family circle is good. The news outside in the world makes me crazy.
If you read my previous post, you will see that I have been holding on to a thin thread of hope that this year's winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, that would be President Obama, would follow the path of peace and decline to send more troops to Afghanistan. That thin thread has all but snapped with the news of his speech at West Point Tuesday night in which he will reveal his strategy for Afghanistan. As I said previously, he is a man who never does something politically unstrategic, so the revelation of his "strategy" at one of the military academies says it all, I believe. The pundits are all saying that he will focus on his exit strategy, and again, I say that you don't have to be a genius to understand that he's going to couch this in a way that will attempt to make this sound good to the American public, which is becoming more and more negative about this "good war."
It will be interesting to see what the Congress does re: funding more troops. That is the only place I see where the plan might run into trouble. Commentators have said that it will cost anywhere from 1/2 a million to 1 million dollars PER TROOP to send more soldiers over. You do the math on 30,000 troops, the number that has been batted around in the press today.
On the same page in today's Globe, screams the headline "President won't sign treaty to ban land mines." This I find positively sickening. This places us with the following countries which have refused to sign: China, India, Pakistan, Myanmar, and Russia. Do we think it's a good thing that land mines remain planted in at least 70 countries and kill or maim 5,000 people per year? Did he not sign this treaty because we will want to plant land mines ourselves possibly in the Afghan region? I find it hard to reconcile the fact that the Nobel Prize for Peace was given to Jody Williams in 1997 for the International Campaign to Ban Land Mines, yet in 2009, it is given to President Obama, who, like President Bush before him, refuses to sign on to the Treaty.
Just what are the qualifications for being a Nobel Peace Prize winner? How can the President in good conscience accept the award? And is the Committee squirming? My father would have said to me "You can't know what's going on behind the scenes. They (those in authority) know what they're doing." That was his famous quote to me about Nixon and Vietnam. Well I say, we questioned authority then and we should be questioning authority now. The Nobel citation isn't worth the paper it's printed on.
If you read my previous post, you will see that I have been holding on to a thin thread of hope that this year's winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, that would be President Obama, would follow the path of peace and decline to send more troops to Afghanistan. That thin thread has all but snapped with the news of his speech at West Point Tuesday night in which he will reveal his strategy for Afghanistan. As I said previously, he is a man who never does something politically unstrategic, so the revelation of his "strategy" at one of the military academies says it all, I believe. The pundits are all saying that he will focus on his exit strategy, and again, I say that you don't have to be a genius to understand that he's going to couch this in a way that will attempt to make this sound good to the American public, which is becoming more and more negative about this "good war."
It will be interesting to see what the Congress does re: funding more troops. That is the only place I see where the plan might run into trouble. Commentators have said that it will cost anywhere from 1/2 a million to 1 million dollars PER TROOP to send more soldiers over. You do the math on 30,000 troops, the number that has been batted around in the press today.
On the same page in today's Globe, screams the headline "President won't sign treaty to ban land mines." This I find positively sickening. This places us with the following countries which have refused to sign: China, India, Pakistan, Myanmar, and Russia. Do we think it's a good thing that land mines remain planted in at least 70 countries and kill or maim 5,000 people per year? Did he not sign this treaty because we will want to plant land mines ourselves possibly in the Afghan region? I find it hard to reconcile the fact that the Nobel Prize for Peace was given to Jody Williams in 1997 for the International Campaign to Ban Land Mines, yet in 2009, it is given to President Obama, who, like President Bush before him, refuses to sign on to the Treaty.
Just what are the qualifications for being a Nobel Peace Prize winner? How can the President in good conscience accept the award? And is the Committee squirming? My father would have said to me "You can't know what's going on behind the scenes. They (those in authority) know what they're doing." That was his famous quote to me about Nixon and Vietnam. Well I say, we questioned authority then and we should be questioning authority now. The Nobel citation isn't worth the paper it's printed on.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Thoughts on Veterans Day
It seems to me that Veterans Day ought to be a time when we commit to doing away with war. Instead, we're waiting for our President to decide to send more troops to Afghanistan, risking their lives and the lives of the "collateral damage" or in other words the civilians caught in the crossfire. I had hoped for better from President Obama, and so did the Nobel Peace Prize Committee, it seems.
I would like to be a fly on the wall in the Oval office, or wherever the National Security Team keeps convening to discuss the situation in Afghanistan. I hope there are some participants pointing to the dismal history of major powers trying to bring Afghanistan under their rule (and presumably kicking and screaming into the 20th century (now 21st). So far it's "visiting" Empires 0, Afghanistan 100. (That's an arbitrary number, much like many of the arbitrary numbers we are given for civilian casualties). Someone on the NST might even be reminding the Prez that we helped to arm and support the Mujahadeen (now Taliban) whilst we were trying to prevent the Russian takeover of Afghanistan. (And why did we care so much about keeping the Russians out? Natural gas, of course.) Now, ranking members of the erstwhile Mujahadeen sit at Hamid Karzai's right hand, and we don't know who the hell we're fighting against. Or why we are even there 8 years after bombing the countryside to punish the Taliban for giving aid and comfort to Al Qaeda. The Taliban fled and Al Qaeda fled into the Pashtun tribal area on the Pakistan border. If we try hard enough (and it looks like it won't take much) we can really draw nuclear-armed Pakistan into this dispute. Now that seems like a really good idea.
So. In my naivete, I believed that Obama's winning of the Nobel put a big weight on his shoulders to actively pursue peace, and not just pay lip service to it. Coming when it did in October, I thought it would be something that just might influence him to de-escalate our presence in Afghanistan, not escalate it.
Next came his overnight vigil at Dover Air Force Base to greet the bodies of 18 soldiers and DEA agents who had died in Afghanistan, as the news media said, seeing first-hand, the cost of the war. I believed at the time that since he never does anything that isn't strategic politically, that he was paving the way to say that our reasons for fighting weren't worth the cost of any more American lives.
Today, in Veterans Day ceremonies at Arlington, he and his wife walked through the section of the cemetery where casualties from the Iraq and Afghani conflicts lie. It has to be sobering. Meeting the mourners in the cemetery would have to be hugely unsettling. Does Obama have a heart tied to his logical brain? Could he imagine the consequences of whichever decision he makes? Could he put politics aside and do what he thinks is right? As of July, our nation has spent 872.6 billion dollars on the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts combined. That would buy a lot of health care, wouldn't it?
So. The leaks say that he'll send 40,000 more troops. I hold onto my thin thread of innocent hope which I have just outlined above. At the same time, though, I'm preparing my signage, my candle and my warm clothes for the vigil which will occur in Portsmouth, at Market Square the day after troop escalation is announced. See you there.
I would like to be a fly on the wall in the Oval office, or wherever the National Security Team keeps convening to discuss the situation in Afghanistan. I hope there are some participants pointing to the dismal history of major powers trying to bring Afghanistan under their rule (and presumably kicking and screaming into the 20th century (now 21st). So far it's "visiting" Empires 0, Afghanistan 100. (That's an arbitrary number, much like many of the arbitrary numbers we are given for civilian casualties). Someone on the NST might even be reminding the Prez that we helped to arm and support the Mujahadeen (now Taliban) whilst we were trying to prevent the Russian takeover of Afghanistan. (And why did we care so much about keeping the Russians out? Natural gas, of course.) Now, ranking members of the erstwhile Mujahadeen sit at Hamid Karzai's right hand, and we don't know who the hell we're fighting against. Or why we are even there 8 years after bombing the countryside to punish the Taliban for giving aid and comfort to Al Qaeda. The Taliban fled and Al Qaeda fled into the Pashtun tribal area on the Pakistan border. If we try hard enough (and it looks like it won't take much) we can really draw nuclear-armed Pakistan into this dispute. Now that seems like a really good idea.
So. In my naivete, I believed that Obama's winning of the Nobel put a big weight on his shoulders to actively pursue peace, and not just pay lip service to it. Coming when it did in October, I thought it would be something that just might influence him to de-escalate our presence in Afghanistan, not escalate it.
Next came his overnight vigil at Dover Air Force Base to greet the bodies of 18 soldiers and DEA agents who had died in Afghanistan, as the news media said, seeing first-hand, the cost of the war. I believed at the time that since he never does anything that isn't strategic politically, that he was paving the way to say that our reasons for fighting weren't worth the cost of any more American lives.
Today, in Veterans Day ceremonies at Arlington, he and his wife walked through the section of the cemetery where casualties from the Iraq and Afghani conflicts lie. It has to be sobering. Meeting the mourners in the cemetery would have to be hugely unsettling. Does Obama have a heart tied to his logical brain? Could he imagine the consequences of whichever decision he makes? Could he put politics aside and do what he thinks is right? As of July, our nation has spent 872.6 billion dollars on the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts combined. That would buy a lot of health care, wouldn't it?
So. The leaks say that he'll send 40,000 more troops. I hold onto my thin thread of innocent hope which I have just outlined above. At the same time, though, I'm preparing my signage, my candle and my warm clothes for the vigil which will occur in Portsmouth, at Market Square the day after troop escalation is announced. See you there.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Stupak or Stupid?
I've been pretty caught up with spending time with my daughter and my new granddaughter, my son and my older granddaughter and grandson. I've not been so caught up that I haven't had time to be sick to my stomach over the latest version of the Health Care bill just voted through the House. How is it that deals can be made that would involve singling out a medical procedure that is legal in this country, and mark it as unfundable if one is enrolled in the "public option" health insurance or in an insurance company that is federally subsidized? For years, under the Bush administration, family planning money sent as foreign aid to developing countries couldn't be used to pay for abortions; for a time, federal money that went to family planning clinics required that abortion could not be offered as an option to someone with an unwanted pregnancy. Supposedly, the Bush era is over. To that, I say a big "HA!"
I see my 2 week old granddaughter, and I wonder if she will face an unwanted pregnancy, and have a safe, legal option to terminate that pregnancy. For the millions of uninsured women who might benefit from the current health insurance reform bill, many of them among the poorest in the country, would have to pay for a procedure which is available to those who can afford private insurance, i.e. the wealthier class of women. It was ever thus. So congratulations to the "progressive" Democrats who have once again sold women down the river in a massive misogynist, classist vote. The Stupak Amendment couldn't be stupider.
I see my 2 week old granddaughter, and I wonder if she will face an unwanted pregnancy, and have a safe, legal option to terminate that pregnancy. For the millions of uninsured women who might benefit from the current health insurance reform bill, many of them among the poorest in the country, would have to pay for a procedure which is available to those who can afford private insurance, i.e. the wealthier class of women. It was ever thus. So congratulations to the "progressive" Democrats who have once again sold women down the river in a massive misogynist, classist vote. The Stupak Amendment couldn't be stupider.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
New grandchild!!!
I can't let another day go by without sharing my joy about my new granddaughter, Ella! Here she is, reclining on her changing table. She's only 9 days old today, and this picture was taken a couple of days ago. Holding her and watching her little face go through a whole gamut of expressions, from serene to the full forehead wrinkle provides hours of fascination! She has definitely stolen my heart!!!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Health Care Reform??? Right!
I think I engineered my own version of health care reform today. That is, I think that my mom is no longer subscribed to TWO prescription plans. And with any luck, she does, still, have ONE prescription plan. And furthermore, if her primary care doc. complies and writes a prescription for Prilosec, that will be paid for by said prescription plan, and not out of her ever shrinking pocket.
Since for years she had one medicine that cost $15.00 per month, I never enrolled her in a Medicare Part D plan (that's the one with the doughnut hole in the middle and that was ultra-confusing to figure out when it first came out.) As soon as she qualified for Medicaid, the Health and Human Services worker said I should talk to Langdon Place about enrolling her in Medicare Part D. So, I did, and they did (which was, in and of itself nothing short of a miracle). I received multiple photocopies of her new Silverscript temporary Prescription Card. About 3 days later, I received a notice from Health and Human Services welcoming my mom to her new Prescription Plan, called, "Healthscript." Hmmmmm, I said. How did this happen? The woman at Langdon Place said "Just wait to see what happens." I said, "I'm the one going to jail if I don't report the $27.00 smaller Social Security check she's going to get if she's actually enrolled in Silverscript." She just laughed and said that each plan would scan to see if she was enrolled in another plan, and then they wouldn't enroll her.
"Oh great," I thought, then she won't be enrolled in either plan.
For the past couple of weeks, each plan has sent their welcoming packet and lists of pharmacies, etc., etc. But today, when I gathered all of this paperwork together and went to Langdon Place to discuss the situation (Oh, and I should mention that Sat. morning I had a call from the 3rd floor nurse telling me she had called new prescriptions to Hannaford's - oh no, no, I said, she is getting them from Unicare now, with her new prescription plan, whichever one it is), I found that Silverscript had called Langdon Place yesterday and left a message. Janice at LP hadn't returned his call (no surprise there), but said she would call to unsubscribe my mom. About an hour later, I received a call from Unicare Pharmacy, verifying that my mom had Healthscript. Yay, I said, Yes, she does. They wanted her Medicaid # which I cheerfully gave them, and voila, they found her in the Healthscript/Medicaid system. Mission accomplished. I no longer need to pick up or pay for her medicines!!!! A small, but important sense of liberation overcame me for a moment.
For those who remember my earlier need to "spend down" mom's money, I'm happy to report that when the bank statement finally arrived, it showed that I had the account $2.00 under the limit allowed by Medicaid. WHEW! Not going to jail this month for defrauding the government.
Citizens Bank is doing its part to help me keep the checking account under the limit by applying a $15.00 per month fee. Since I find that egregiously high, I plan to go in to see if there is an account that will be cheaper. Since under normal circumstances I write (or will write) 2 - 3 checks per month, it would seem to me that this fee is pretty out of line. My own checking account charges $3.00/month and I write a zillion checks and two zillion debit card transactions each month. Maybe I can become part of the banking reform going on in the country. Where is TARP when you need it??
Since for years she had one medicine that cost $15.00 per month, I never enrolled her in a Medicare Part D plan (that's the one with the doughnut hole in the middle and that was ultra-confusing to figure out when it first came out.) As soon as she qualified for Medicaid, the Health and Human Services worker said I should talk to Langdon Place about enrolling her in Medicare Part D. So, I did, and they did (which was, in and of itself nothing short of a miracle). I received multiple photocopies of her new Silverscript temporary Prescription Card. About 3 days later, I received a notice from Health and Human Services welcoming my mom to her new Prescription Plan, called, "Healthscript." Hmmmmm, I said. How did this happen? The woman at Langdon Place said "Just wait to see what happens." I said, "I'm the one going to jail if I don't report the $27.00 smaller Social Security check she's going to get if she's actually enrolled in Silverscript." She just laughed and said that each plan would scan to see if she was enrolled in another plan, and then they wouldn't enroll her.
"Oh great," I thought, then she won't be enrolled in either plan.
For the past couple of weeks, each plan has sent their welcoming packet and lists of pharmacies, etc., etc. But today, when I gathered all of this paperwork together and went to Langdon Place to discuss the situation (Oh, and I should mention that Sat. morning I had a call from the 3rd floor nurse telling me she had called new prescriptions to Hannaford's - oh no, no, I said, she is getting them from Unicare now, with her new prescription plan, whichever one it is), I found that Silverscript had called Langdon Place yesterday and left a message. Janice at LP hadn't returned his call (no surprise there), but said she would call to unsubscribe my mom. About an hour later, I received a call from Unicare Pharmacy, verifying that my mom had Healthscript. Yay, I said, Yes, she does. They wanted her Medicaid # which I cheerfully gave them, and voila, they found her in the Healthscript/Medicaid system. Mission accomplished. I no longer need to pick up or pay for her medicines!!!! A small, but important sense of liberation overcame me for a moment.
For those who remember my earlier need to "spend down" mom's money, I'm happy to report that when the bank statement finally arrived, it showed that I had the account $2.00 under the limit allowed by Medicaid. WHEW! Not going to jail this month for defrauding the government.
Citizens Bank is doing its part to help me keep the checking account under the limit by applying a $15.00 per month fee. Since I find that egregiously high, I plan to go in to see if there is an account that will be cheaper. Since under normal circumstances I write (or will write) 2 - 3 checks per month, it would seem to me that this fee is pretty out of line. My own checking account charges $3.00/month and I write a zillion checks and two zillion debit card transactions each month. Maybe I can become part of the banking reform going on in the country. Where is TARP when you need it??
Thursday, August 27, 2009
My Kennedy Connection
Ted Kennedy's death has brought back for all of us the lives and deaths of the members of his family, and the various tragedies suffered by that family.
We all remember where we were when JFK was assassinated, but I also recall how I babysat for a family who claimed they would leave the country if JFK lost the election to Richard Nixon. My parents were staunch Nixon supporters, and I, myself, had been roped into being a Nixonette, so as a young teen, I was pretty skeptical of the Catholic John F. Kennedy. Thank goodness those days are behind me.
Then, I voted for Robert Kennedy in the California primary - my first opportunity to vote in our great democracy, and sitting on the bed in our Stanford high-rise student housing, watched him die at the hands of Sirhan Sirhan in the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles. Having come a long way from my days as a Nixonette, I had become a true child of the 60s, believing passionately in the Civil Rights Movement and peace and social justice. It took a long time for me to actually act on the beliefs that had slowly developed through my college years, but the person I have become has been strongly shaped by Kennedy ideals of service to country and working to make a difference in the lives of others. Teaching was the closest I could come to living out those ideas, though the Peace Corps may still await me.
In 1977, I finally had a chance to meet a member of the Kennedy family when Senator Ted Kennedy came to offer the dedication speech at the opening of the Franconia Frost Place. I was the Project Director for the house as a historic museum and organized the summer music and poetry program. I had written all the publicity for the Kennedy visit and the opening of the house; I had been interviewed by Time Magazine and various state newspapers; I couldn't wait for the dedication day to happen.
The day of the dedication was a perfect, hot, New England summer day. The Kennedy entourage, including Ted, Eunice Shriver and three of their children, flew into the Whitefield airport and traveled to the Franconia Town Hall, where my family and I stood on the lawn in what the local paper described as a "throng of 300 people" to hear the various speeches that day. CBS news covered the event, and it was one of the biggest deals to happen in Franconia for a long time. Imagine my devastation when the Chairs of the Frost Place Committee recognized the work of every other person who had worked on that day and on getting the Frost Place ready for opening, and never mentioned my name. I was crushed.
I was, however, all the more determined to meet the Senator. As the ceremony came to an end, I drove hastily to the Frost Place, and planted myself beside the door where I knew the Kennedys would have to enter the house. I had never done anything quite this bold, or pushy. As the group arrived at the Frost Place, sure enough, the Senator led the way down the porch to the screen door where I thrust out my hand and as he shook it, I introduced myself and welcomed him to the Frost home. Did I shake hands with Eunice? I don't remember. I faded back into the woodwork, where I stayed for the rest of the afternoon. I had met the last of the Kennedy brothers.
We all remember where we were when JFK was assassinated, but I also recall how I babysat for a family who claimed they would leave the country if JFK lost the election to Richard Nixon. My parents were staunch Nixon supporters, and I, myself, had been roped into being a Nixonette, so as a young teen, I was pretty skeptical of the Catholic John F. Kennedy. Thank goodness those days are behind me.
Then, I voted for Robert Kennedy in the California primary - my first opportunity to vote in our great democracy, and sitting on the bed in our Stanford high-rise student housing, watched him die at the hands of Sirhan Sirhan in the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles. Having come a long way from my days as a Nixonette, I had become a true child of the 60s, believing passionately in the Civil Rights Movement and peace and social justice. It took a long time for me to actually act on the beliefs that had slowly developed through my college years, but the person I have become has been strongly shaped by Kennedy ideals of service to country and working to make a difference in the lives of others. Teaching was the closest I could come to living out those ideas, though the Peace Corps may still await me.
In 1977, I finally had a chance to meet a member of the Kennedy family when Senator Ted Kennedy came to offer the dedication speech at the opening of the Franconia Frost Place. I was the Project Director for the house as a historic museum and organized the summer music and poetry program. I had written all the publicity for the Kennedy visit and the opening of the house; I had been interviewed by Time Magazine and various state newspapers; I couldn't wait for the dedication day to happen.
The day of the dedication was a perfect, hot, New England summer day. The Kennedy entourage, including Ted, Eunice Shriver and three of their children, flew into the Whitefield airport and traveled to the Franconia Town Hall, where my family and I stood on the lawn in what the local paper described as a "throng of 300 people" to hear the various speeches that day. CBS news covered the event, and it was one of the biggest deals to happen in Franconia for a long time. Imagine my devastation when the Chairs of the Frost Place Committee recognized the work of every other person who had worked on that day and on getting the Frost Place ready for opening, and never mentioned my name. I was crushed.
I was, however, all the more determined to meet the Senator. As the ceremony came to an end, I drove hastily to the Frost Place, and planted myself beside the door where I knew the Kennedys would have to enter the house. I had never done anything quite this bold, or pushy. As the group arrived at the Frost Place, sure enough, the Senator led the way down the porch to the screen door where I thrust out my hand and as he shook it, I introduced myself and welcomed him to the Frost home. Did I shake hands with Eunice? I don't remember. I faded back into the woodwork, where I stayed for the rest of the afternoon. I had met the last of the Kennedy brothers.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Whatever can go wrong, usually does
For a week now, my life has started to crumble. Just in small things, and nothing really serious. Last night, though, when the large glass coffee pot tilted out of the dish drainer and smashed on the floor, I stopped to ponder how the infrastructure is failing at my house.
A week ago I brought home a small fan from my mom's apartment which had been turned on for who knows how long, but wasn't actually turning. It was so hot that I'm surprised it hadn't shorted out. In any case, I took it apart, and armed with the housewife's friend, WD-40, I tried to fix it. WRONG! When I put the propeller back on the shaft and pushed a bit to try to seat it, the whole assembly crumbled in my hands. Into the trash with the whole thing.
An hour or so later, I was opening a can of tuna fish to make lunch, and as I was holding down the lever thingie to make the can turn , the lever broke off in my hand. Hmmmm, another broken item.
On Wednesday morning, I was in a hurry to clean the upstairs bathroom before company arrived, and as I scrubbed the top of the soap dish which was grouted into the tile in the NEW bathroom, it fell right off the wall and into the tub. Huh? I called the builder and left a message that I needed an emergency repair. Yeah, right. He did come over, but discovered a crack in a line of grout above the soap dish, and wet grout, made the more so by all the humidity. So - upstairs shower out of commission until the whole area dries, he replaces the bad grout and re-cements the soap dish.
Moving right along, Sun. night comes and I break the coffee pot at about 10:00 p.m. I sew the seam binding on Emily's skirt wrong, and so, it came as no surprise that this morning, a tree service arrived at the house next door and has semi-denuded the landscape between my screen porch and their garage; along the street and alongside the boundary line on the far side of their house. Earlier this week a backhoe came and levelled out the far side of their yard, and then built it up so that water will now all run off into my back yard so they can put a shed over there to put their bikes in.
Ah yes, and my bone density is becoming less dense, and who knows, I may, myself crumble into dust......time to up the calcium and do some weight lifting. I would be happy if the karma around here would shift just the tiniest bit!!
A week ago I brought home a small fan from my mom's apartment which had been turned on for who knows how long, but wasn't actually turning. It was so hot that I'm surprised it hadn't shorted out. In any case, I took it apart, and armed with the housewife's friend, WD-40, I tried to fix it. WRONG! When I put the propeller back on the shaft and pushed a bit to try to seat it, the whole assembly crumbled in my hands. Into the trash with the whole thing.
An hour or so later, I was opening a can of tuna fish to make lunch, and as I was holding down the lever thingie to make the can turn , the lever broke off in my hand. Hmmmm, another broken item.
On Wednesday morning, I was in a hurry to clean the upstairs bathroom before company arrived, and as I scrubbed the top of the soap dish which was grouted into the tile in the NEW bathroom, it fell right off the wall and into the tub. Huh? I called the builder and left a message that I needed an emergency repair. Yeah, right. He did come over, but discovered a crack in a line of grout above the soap dish, and wet grout, made the more so by all the humidity. So - upstairs shower out of commission until the whole area dries, he replaces the bad grout and re-cements the soap dish.
Moving right along, Sun. night comes and I break the coffee pot at about 10:00 p.m. I sew the seam binding on Emily's skirt wrong, and so, it came as no surprise that this morning, a tree service arrived at the house next door and has semi-denuded the landscape between my screen porch and their garage; along the street and alongside the boundary line on the far side of their house. Earlier this week a backhoe came and levelled out the far side of their yard, and then built it up so that water will now all run off into my back yard so they can put a shed over there to put their bikes in.
Ah yes, and my bone density is becoming less dense, and who knows, I may, myself crumble into dust......time to up the calcium and do some weight lifting. I would be happy if the karma around here would shift just the tiniest bit!!
Friday, August 21, 2009
Birthday fun
My favorite yoga teacher always ends class by saying "Remember that every day you have something to be grateful for." For those readers who know me, you know that the past few years have been difficult for me, not just because of dealing with Langdon Place and my aging parents, but because my immediate family members have had lots of issues with each other for which I have been smack in the middle.
This summer marks a turning point in family relationships, and I just want to go on record that we have now had two family birthday celebrations which have not caused me to be in high anxiety or wishing I could be somewhere else (like in witness protection).
Last night Todd hosted a small family birthday party for Emily who turns 9 on Saturday. Sarah was able to come, but sadly Ben had to work late. There were just the five of us, and Todd grilled portobello mushrooms with mozzarella and tomato slices (Emily's request) and he made potato salad and I provided green beans out of my garden. The piece de resistance was the birthday cake made by Todd. It was delicious, and he had taken pains to frost it, put colored sprinkles all over it, along with pastel colored m & m's and most impressively, pink "roses" made out of frosting which he had created with a cake decorating tube. Nine candles and a birthday wish later, we all launched into cake and ice cream, followed by presents.
Emily, who has inherited the Twombly talker gene (that's my side of the family), talked non-stop through the meal, expressing her opinion on a variety of issues, no matter what they were. Hmmmm, I wonder where she inherited that trait??? She thanked each of us as she opened our presents, saying several times how much she loved something. Today she willingly wrote a thank you note to Great Grammie, since she couldn't share in the celebration yesterday.
Todd has really stepped up to the plate this summer and has had a great time finally being the dad that he's been capable of all along, but for a variety of reasons hasn't really been able to demonstrate. He has had the kids this week for the 3rd week of "Daddy Camp," and they have gone swimming, hiking, on a duck tour, played with Leggos, light sabers, the slip and slide and one day, the kids had 3 friends over for a play date. He is firm but reasonable with them, and genuinely has enjoyed spending so much time with them.
All in all, I am so grateful for my children and my grandchildren and for the family glue that finally has returned to hold us all together!!
This summer marks a turning point in family relationships, and I just want to go on record that we have now had two family birthday celebrations which have not caused me to be in high anxiety or wishing I could be somewhere else (like in witness protection).
Last night Todd hosted a small family birthday party for Emily who turns 9 on Saturday. Sarah was able to come, but sadly Ben had to work late. There were just the five of us, and Todd grilled portobello mushrooms with mozzarella and tomato slices (Emily's request) and he made potato salad and I provided green beans out of my garden. The piece de resistance was the birthday cake made by Todd. It was delicious, and he had taken pains to frost it, put colored sprinkles all over it, along with pastel colored m & m's and most impressively, pink "roses" made out of frosting which he had created with a cake decorating tube. Nine candles and a birthday wish later, we all launched into cake and ice cream, followed by presents.
Emily, who has inherited the Twombly talker gene (that's my side of the family), talked non-stop through the meal, expressing her opinion on a variety of issues, no matter what they were. Hmmmm, I wonder where she inherited that trait??? She thanked each of us as she opened our presents, saying several times how much she loved something. Today she willingly wrote a thank you note to Great Grammie, since she couldn't share in the celebration yesterday.
Todd has really stepped up to the plate this summer and has had a great time finally being the dad that he's been capable of all along, but for a variety of reasons hasn't really been able to demonstrate. He has had the kids this week for the 3rd week of "Daddy Camp," and they have gone swimming, hiking, on a duck tour, played with Leggos, light sabers, the slip and slide and one day, the kids had 3 friends over for a play date. He is firm but reasonable with them, and genuinely has enjoyed spending so much time with them.
All in all, I am so grateful for my children and my grandchildren and for the family glue that finally has returned to hold us all together!!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Blasting off once again
This morning was the much-dreaded appointment with Health and Human Services to make known to the government that my mother is on the verge of having no money and needs to become a member of the Medicaid System. The appointment was dreaded only because I knew from past experience with my father that I would be in a locked room with a social worker person who would speak slowly to me so that I would be sure to understand the complexities of the welfare bureaucracy for approximately three hours.
In anticipation of the appointment, I had gathered 15 months of bank statements, her birth certificate, dad's death certificate, proofs of medicare, Blue Cross, soc. sec. income, pension income, cost of Blue Cross, cost of Langdon Place, my photo i.d., durable power of attorney and her photo i.d. Fortunately, I called for the appointment one day before I put my recycling at the curb, and thus, when the social worker person said I would actually need bank statements going back to April, 2007, when I had enrolled dad, I was able to fish through all the paper (being glad we don't do single stream recycling) and pull out the requisite statements from April, 2007 to the present. They just needed to make sure I hadn't gifted anything to anyone from mom's bank account, or set up a a trust fund for myself, etc.
So . . . at nine o'clock I joined all the other folks in the waiting room at HHS where there is a lovely mural of a tranquil ocean scene complete with sailboats floating. There was a pregnant girl in sweatpants with her shirt not quite covering her belly and another young woman with bleached hair (sprayed red in front) and a tattoo on her chest which said "Brooklyn." I felt right at home. From behind bullet-proof glass, the social worker person called my name and told me to meet her in Room #1. The door locked behind me, and she entered from a door at the back of the room and we had a large countertop-type desk stretching from wall to wall in between us. (Just in case I wanted to leap across and. . . do what???) I wanted to assure her she was safe with me, but I figured if I had to be there for more than 3 hours, I wasn't sure she was safe with me!!
The appointment proceeded in textbook fashion, with me fishing out documents and passing them to her pile for photocopying. When she came to the stack of bank statements (which I'd like to add here I had put in precise order and clipped together by year - dad would have been super proud of me), she looked at every page, following the trail of the cashed out CDs. On the Sept., 2008 bank statement she stopped and said "What's this?" pointing to a check I had written to "Citizens Bank or Katherine Morgan." For the life of me, I couldn't imagine (at first) what that was all about, and I have to admit, it was peculiar. "Oh," I said, the light dawning, "I had to use this account to buy Euros for my trip to Italy." (Oh shit, I thought, that's never going to fly past this woman). "I paid it back," I said hastily. "No, actually, my mom owed me money for meds and supplies, so I subtracted what she owed me from what I had borrowed from her . . . . " I trailed off. Was this going to screw up the whole deal? A mere $208.00 transacation? "Oh, that's fine, she said, after a suitable pause where I'm sure she was recalling every other check I had written to myself throughout the entire two years of bank statements.
She gathered everything I had brought with me to take to photocopy, and before she left, she explained all of my/our rights and all of my responsibilities going forward, the penalty for perjuring myself on any of these forms and the possibility of jail time for a felony offense if I fail to notify them if my mom inherits any money, or when/if her income increases/decreases and any number of other likely scenarios. I wanted to say to her "Yeah, just put me in the slammer now, and let someone else drive my mom to her doctor's appointments, purchase her boxes of Depends and repeat over and over to her that she does NOT have a doctor's appointment tomorrow." I didn't say it, though.
When she returned after about 20 minutes of photocopying, she explained again how all the finances would work, including the fact that between now and September 1st, I have to spend down about $650.00 of mom's bank account. I can't imagine the look that crossed my face, but she said "I can see I just lost you there." Yes, I had to admit that since her bank account was now well below the $2500.00 she is allowed to keep, and since, after all, I had been under suspicion only moments before for the $208.00 I had spent on Euros, I was a bit perplexed that suddenly I was to go out on a spending spree with mom's money. In an explanation too lengthy to include here, I do in fact, understand why I need to spend money, but with the caveat that I can't put anything on my credit or debit cards and pay myself back, "because that would look bad."
So, after only 2 1/2 hours, I left HHS, and by now there was a good line of people waiting to be seen. All that is now left for me to do is A) spend a lot of money B) decide whether I want to keep control over mom's income and pay the bills going forward (Langdon Place gets all of her income minus the cost of BC/BS and the $56.00 per month she is allowed as "spending money)or have the money directly deposited to Langdon Place and C) Try to get Langdon Place to get mom into the Medicare Part D program so that all of her meds and over-the-counter (?) drugs will be paid for going forward.
So, after 5 years of shepherding the money and spending as little as possible, I now need to make sure that we never go over $2500 in her bank account, counting the $56.00 she is allowed to have in an account at Langdon Place. Since Depends alone cost $49.00 per month, I doubt we need to worry too much about this. Imagine my great delight to get home to find my own social security statement in the mail, telling me how much I'll get to have per month and realizing just how much potential there is for living out my last years in poverty as well. Just put me in jail now. . .
In anticipation of the appointment, I had gathered 15 months of bank statements, her birth certificate, dad's death certificate, proofs of medicare, Blue Cross, soc. sec. income, pension income, cost of Blue Cross, cost of Langdon Place, my photo i.d., durable power of attorney and her photo i.d. Fortunately, I called for the appointment one day before I put my recycling at the curb, and thus, when the social worker person said I would actually need bank statements going back to April, 2007, when I had enrolled dad, I was able to fish through all the paper (being glad we don't do single stream recycling) and pull out the requisite statements from April, 2007 to the present. They just needed to make sure I hadn't gifted anything to anyone from mom's bank account, or set up a a trust fund for myself, etc.
So . . . at nine o'clock I joined all the other folks in the waiting room at HHS where there is a lovely mural of a tranquil ocean scene complete with sailboats floating. There was a pregnant girl in sweatpants with her shirt not quite covering her belly and another young woman with bleached hair (sprayed red in front) and a tattoo on her chest which said "Brooklyn." I felt right at home. From behind bullet-proof glass, the social worker person called my name and told me to meet her in Room #1. The door locked behind me, and she entered from a door at the back of the room and we had a large countertop-type desk stretching from wall to wall in between us. (Just in case I wanted to leap across and. . . do what???) I wanted to assure her she was safe with me, but I figured if I had to be there for more than 3 hours, I wasn't sure she was safe with me!!
The appointment proceeded in textbook fashion, with me fishing out documents and passing them to her pile for photocopying. When she came to the stack of bank statements (which I'd like to add here I had put in precise order and clipped together by year - dad would have been super proud of me), she looked at every page, following the trail of the cashed out CDs. On the Sept., 2008 bank statement she stopped and said "What's this?" pointing to a check I had written to "Citizens Bank or Katherine Morgan." For the life of me, I couldn't imagine (at first) what that was all about, and I have to admit, it was peculiar. "Oh," I said, the light dawning, "I had to use this account to buy Euros for my trip to Italy." (Oh shit, I thought, that's never going to fly past this woman). "I paid it back," I said hastily. "No, actually, my mom owed me money for meds and supplies, so I subtracted what she owed me from what I had borrowed from her . . . . " I trailed off. Was this going to screw up the whole deal? A mere $208.00 transacation? "Oh, that's fine, she said, after a suitable pause where I'm sure she was recalling every other check I had written to myself throughout the entire two years of bank statements.
She gathered everything I had brought with me to take to photocopy, and before she left, she explained all of my/our rights and all of my responsibilities going forward, the penalty for perjuring myself on any of these forms and the possibility of jail time for a felony offense if I fail to notify them if my mom inherits any money, or when/if her income increases/decreases and any number of other likely scenarios. I wanted to say to her "Yeah, just put me in the slammer now, and let someone else drive my mom to her doctor's appointments, purchase her boxes of Depends and repeat over and over to her that she does NOT have a doctor's appointment tomorrow." I didn't say it, though.
When she returned after about 20 minutes of photocopying, she explained again how all the finances would work, including the fact that between now and September 1st, I have to spend down about $650.00 of mom's bank account. I can't imagine the look that crossed my face, but she said "I can see I just lost you there." Yes, I had to admit that since her bank account was now well below the $2500.00 she is allowed to keep, and since, after all, I had been under suspicion only moments before for the $208.00 I had spent on Euros, I was a bit perplexed that suddenly I was to go out on a spending spree with mom's money. In an explanation too lengthy to include here, I do in fact, understand why I need to spend money, but with the caveat that I can't put anything on my credit or debit cards and pay myself back, "because that would look bad."
So, after only 2 1/2 hours, I left HHS, and by now there was a good line of people waiting to be seen. All that is now left for me to do is A) spend a lot of money B) decide whether I want to keep control over mom's income and pay the bills going forward (Langdon Place gets all of her income minus the cost of BC/BS and the $56.00 per month she is allowed as "spending money)or have the money directly deposited to Langdon Place and C) Try to get Langdon Place to get mom into the Medicare Part D program so that all of her meds and over-the-counter (?) drugs will be paid for going forward.
So, after 5 years of shepherding the money and spending as little as possible, I now need to make sure that we never go over $2500 in her bank account, counting the $56.00 she is allowed to have in an account at Langdon Place. Since Depends alone cost $49.00 per month, I doubt we need to worry too much about this. Imagine my great delight to get home to find my own social security statement in the mail, telling me how much I'll get to have per month and realizing just how much potential there is for living out my last years in poverty as well. Just put me in jail now. . .
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Blog-tweets
Tonight the Lehrer News Hour had a segment on Twitter and Tweets, and the questionable value of twittering (What can one say in 140 characters?) and the general proliferation of social networking online. I don't "tweet," and I don't have Facebook, but i thought I would use some short blog entries (not probably under the 140 character limit) to "blast off" on some recent topics of concern. I am, simultaneously, watching/listening to the President's "news conference." I will use this as the subject of my first "blog-tweet."
On Presidential Press Conferences: In the good old days, the news reporters stood and yelled to be recognized. That was a "real" press conference, where the White House didn't know ahead of time approximately what would be asked. This is a "fake" press conference, where the White House establishes the list of reporters who will be called on, and, you'd better believe, they have also ascertained what questions will be asked. (Ha! Someone just subverted the system and asked a question out of turn!!) Yay, you go, press people.
On the Sonia Sotomayor confirmation: Senator John Kyl of Arizona stated today that he is concerned that Judge Sotomayor may not be able to leave her personal biases behind (i.e. her background as a Latina woman) and therefore he will vote against her confirmation. Did he ever wonder if the white male candidates whom he voted to confirm were able to leave their personal biases behind (i.e. their privileges as a white, upper middle class man) when they reached the bench? I doubt it.
On the arrest of Henry Louis Gates in his home in Cambridge, MA: Unbelievable.
On the Senate voting against the F-22 fighter jet amendment: Amazing! Finally a vote against something which even the Pentagon didn't want. Even Senator Gregg voted against this plane which apparently is obsolete and has experienced huge cost overruns. Definitely a victory for the voices of reason in an irrational world. (see above entry).
On the anti-abortion groups who are lobbying to make sure there is a provision in the health care legislation which will specifically state that any government-sponsored health care insurance will not pay for abortions: Who should decide which healthcare procedures should be paid for? Should birth control be covered? Viagra? Should my mother have blood drawn every two weeks? How anemic should she have to be before government-sponsored Medicare should pay for her to have a Procrit shot? Possibly the doctors are the people to make these decisions, not the government, and not the anti-anybodies.
On the weather: If I had wanted to live in a gray, drizzly climate, I would have moved to Seattle or Chautauqua. The rain forest is wearing a little thin.
On blog-tweets: It's clear why I don't "tweet" for real. I could never keep it to 140 characters or less.........
On Presidential Press Conferences: In the good old days, the news reporters stood and yelled to be recognized. That was a "real" press conference, where the White House didn't know ahead of time approximately what would be asked. This is a "fake" press conference, where the White House establishes the list of reporters who will be called on, and, you'd better believe, they have also ascertained what questions will be asked. (Ha! Someone just subverted the system and asked a question out of turn!!) Yay, you go, press people.
On the Sonia Sotomayor confirmation: Senator John Kyl of Arizona stated today that he is concerned that Judge Sotomayor may not be able to leave her personal biases behind (i.e. her background as a Latina woman) and therefore he will vote against her confirmation. Did he ever wonder if the white male candidates whom he voted to confirm were able to leave their personal biases behind (i.e. their privileges as a white, upper middle class man) when they reached the bench? I doubt it.
On the arrest of Henry Louis Gates in his home in Cambridge, MA: Unbelievable.
On the Senate voting against the F-22 fighter jet amendment: Amazing! Finally a vote against something which even the Pentagon didn't want. Even Senator Gregg voted against this plane which apparently is obsolete and has experienced huge cost overruns. Definitely a victory for the voices of reason in an irrational world. (see above entry).
On the anti-abortion groups who are lobbying to make sure there is a provision in the health care legislation which will specifically state that any government-sponsored health care insurance will not pay for abortions: Who should decide which healthcare procedures should be paid for? Should birth control be covered? Viagra? Should my mother have blood drawn every two weeks? How anemic should she have to be before government-sponsored Medicare should pay for her to have a Procrit shot? Possibly the doctors are the people to make these decisions, not the government, and not the anti-anybodies.
On the weather: If I had wanted to live in a gray, drizzly climate, I would have moved to Seattle or Chautauqua. The rain forest is wearing a little thin.
On blog-tweets: It's clear why I don't "tweet" for real. I could never keep it to 140 characters or less.........
Monday, July 13, 2009
There are students and then . . . there are students
If you read an earlier post, you will discover that I have had to call the police to quell the drinking parties next door. Eventually, after calling a few times, I discovered that the guys next door are former students of mine. I don't know who is more distressed by that fact, them or me. A week ago tonight i called the police for the 5th time since June 6th, and there were 4 squad cars idling in the street from midnight to 1:30 a.m. as they rounded up kids, towed cars and arrested at least one of the boys living next door.
On Wednesday, a deputation of three of the young men arrived at my back door. I invited them in, and we sat in the living room discussing the situation. They apologized for having disturbed me so much this summer, and then they proceeded to suggest that 1) if I would stop calling the police, people wouldn't be running through my back yard (leaving flip flops in the mud and half empty cans of beer in the raised beds . . . ) and 2) If I would call them and not the police, they would "get everyone to "dial it down."
I suggested that their logic was a bit faulty. That if I were in their shoes, and being arrested because I was hosting all of Oyster River at underage drinking parties, I would change my behavior and stop the parties. They assured me they were "getting it under control," and that on Monday when I called the police, they had only invited 15 people to come over (plus the 4 of them) and REALLY, they had no idea i could hear them. Huh!
I pointed out that no one else in the neighborhood was up until 2 in the morning partying, and that since they had moved into the neighborhood, they were obliged to conform to the social, cultural and legal requirements of the neighborhood. Their eyes glazed over. They repeated their request that i call them instead of the police. They wrote their 3 cell phone numbers on a card and gave it to me. I said I'd try it once, and then I would call the police. So far, (knock wood) we have had a week of blessedly quiet nights. Even when I have seen 7 cars on the street. I am crossing my fingers.
Later that same Wednesday, I attended a reading and book signing at River Run Bookstore in Portsmouth. The reader: former Advanced Writing student Meg Frazer, out promoting her new novel. I had a great chat with her, and felt proud when she acknowledged me during her thank yous to various people who had helped her writing along the way. A friend of hers and another former student, Larissa Crockett was there with her 11 and 9 year old kids, and we had a great chat as well. She has just successfully run for the board of Selectpersons in her town and thinks she may want to be Governor of Maine one day. She told me of how she has had to defend her use of the word "selectperson" to older men who keep reminding her that she has run for the Board of Selectmen. We had a brief discussion about the importance of language in the area of women's rights.
While I was standing and eating bonbons after the reading, a young man came rushing in and greeted me warmly - you guessed it, another former student who saw me as he was walking by the store. We had a talk about what he has done since his graduation two years ago.
This morning I met with another student who has recently sent me her short stories to read. She has always been a great critic/reader of my work, and she's slogging her way through my novel as we speak. Another student who spent this past semester in New Zealand just emailed me and is returning to Durham and wants to get together.
So . . . thankfully, it's good students 5 to questionable students 3. I hold out hope for good students 8, questionable students 0.
On Wednesday, a deputation of three of the young men arrived at my back door. I invited them in, and we sat in the living room discussing the situation. They apologized for having disturbed me so much this summer, and then they proceeded to suggest that 1) if I would stop calling the police, people wouldn't be running through my back yard (leaving flip flops in the mud and half empty cans of beer in the raised beds . . . ) and 2) If I would call them and not the police, they would "get everyone to "dial it down."
I suggested that their logic was a bit faulty. That if I were in their shoes, and being arrested because I was hosting all of Oyster River at underage drinking parties, I would change my behavior and stop the parties. They assured me they were "getting it under control," and that on Monday when I called the police, they had only invited 15 people to come over (plus the 4 of them) and REALLY, they had no idea i could hear them. Huh!
I pointed out that no one else in the neighborhood was up until 2 in the morning partying, and that since they had moved into the neighborhood, they were obliged to conform to the social, cultural and legal requirements of the neighborhood. Their eyes glazed over. They repeated their request that i call them instead of the police. They wrote their 3 cell phone numbers on a card and gave it to me. I said I'd try it once, and then I would call the police. So far, (knock wood) we have had a week of blessedly quiet nights. Even when I have seen 7 cars on the street. I am crossing my fingers.
Later that same Wednesday, I attended a reading and book signing at River Run Bookstore in Portsmouth. The reader: former Advanced Writing student Meg Frazer, out promoting her new novel. I had a great chat with her, and felt proud when she acknowledged me during her thank yous to various people who had helped her writing along the way. A friend of hers and another former student, Larissa Crockett was there with her 11 and 9 year old kids, and we had a great chat as well. She has just successfully run for the board of Selectpersons in her town and thinks she may want to be Governor of Maine one day. She told me of how she has had to defend her use of the word "selectperson" to older men who keep reminding her that she has run for the Board of Selectmen. We had a brief discussion about the importance of language in the area of women's rights.
While I was standing and eating bonbons after the reading, a young man came rushing in and greeted me warmly - you guessed it, another former student who saw me as he was walking by the store. We had a talk about what he has done since his graduation two years ago.
This morning I met with another student who has recently sent me her short stories to read. She has always been a great critic/reader of my work, and she's slogging her way through my novel as we speak. Another student who spent this past semester in New Zealand just emailed me and is returning to Durham and wants to get together.
So . . . thankfully, it's good students 5 to questionable students 3. I hold out hope for good students 8, questionable students 0.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Wedding highlights
Let me just say that the whole weekend was great from start to finish. There were no bad moments, at least that I could see! So, instead of trying to even summarize everything, I thought I'd write down some of my favorite moments. Not surprisingly,
many of those moments had to do with Emily and Nate.
At the rehearsal, my favorite moment(s) were when the minister asked Nate how he felt about managing the job of ringbearer, and he immediately said "I've done it before" in a very confident voice. Immediately Emily's hand shot up and she said "I've been a flower girl before too, so I know what to do. I'll help Ariana."
Another moment was when Nate saw the raspberry pink pillow and made a face that clearly communicated that NO WAY did he want to carry a pink pillow down the aisle. Kat immediately said "I don't want to see that face again! This is the pillow, and you're carrying it!" (or words to that effect)
At the rehearsal dinner, when the toasts began, we were all surprised when from over at the piano, Nate, with impeccable timing, ran his fingers down the keyboard from high to low notes, just as the person ended the toast offering his own personal punctuation mark to all the wonderful words that were being said.
I was proud of both kids as they met lots of new people over the weekend, and when introduced, shook hands and said "It's nice to meet you." They've had some good parenting!
Wedding morning dawned nice and sunny, contrary to all forecasts. That set the tone for the whole day of bright, sunny happiness, even when the clouds inevitably rolled in mid-day. It just didn't matter - it was warm and it didn't rain!
A highlight of the morning was a great boat ride down the length of Kezar Lake, with plenty of time for Em and Nate to steer the boat while sitting in Uncle Ben's lap. He taught them how to go in a tight circle and ride up and over the boat's wake, which utterly delighted them.
One at a time, every vendor showed up right when they were supposed to on Sat. (The tent and tables arrived Friday) A group effort led to the placement of linens, silverware and glasses. Emily, Nate and Ariana each helped under the supervision of Sarah, Kat, and me. The caterer arrived and we conferred; photos went off as scheduled; the florist delivered the gorgeous wedding flowers and rejuvenated Todd's bouteniere when the stem bent and broke. Pierce, the last minute guest of Ben's sister drove to North Conway to get the cake and delivered it with nary a mishap. He also filled all the coolers with ice and beer and other beverages. The D.J. arrived on schedule. Sarah had planned everything to the minute, it seemed.
Suddenly, it was time to head to the church. Highlights for me of the ceremony were almost so many I can't even list them all. But certainly walking down the aisle with Todd was a big highlight for me; seeing Sarah walk down the aisle on her godfather's arm and the look of great joy on both of their faces was a sight to behold. Kat was absolutely beautiful in her deep blue dress and carrying a phenomenal bouquet of deep pink and red roses and calla lillies.
I loved singing "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee" with Emily sharing my hymnal and singing her heart out. At the same time I could hear Sarah's beautiful voice leading all of us. The ceremony was one of the most beautiful I've ever attended. Sarah and Ben had adhered to a traditional format, but with a minister who knew both of them well, there was a high personal element in each segment of it. Most moving was what they called the Family Liturgy, where they stepped forward and faced all of us, sharing their feelings about our importance to them as they begin this new journey. Each of them teared up a bit, particularly when Ben read a paragraph remembering family members who were unable to be there, including each of their fathers and their remaining livintg grandmothers.
These weeks of planning were worth everything to see their faces when they were pronounced husband and wife! The final great moment was when Sarah and Ben joined hands to music of the recessional and as Sarah's took her first step down the steps, we realized that she had kicked off her shoes sometime early in the ceremony and was barefoot! The train of her dress swept over her shoes, revealing them up in front of the altar, and Kat calmly leaned over and picked them up and followed them down the steps, arm and arm with the best man.
At the reception, one of the highlights was dancing with Emily, who kept coming and asking me to dance. She is just such a sweetheart. She and Nate just danced and danced. True grandchildren of mine!
Throughout the weekend our two families kind of melted together in good food, good drink, good conversation and beautiful surroundings. It was great in every way. One of my final favorite moments of the evening was having Sarah say that the whole wedding had been everything she had wanted it to be. I say Amen to that!!
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Notes from the Natural and Unnatural World
I know the nature lovers out there are dying to read about the bird population at my house. All year, the birds offer endless entertainment, and provide excellent opportunities to procrastinate. One of my most favorite activities in retirement is being able to stand with binoculars glued to my face looking at the birds out my kitchen window. And believe me, I can do that for HOURS!!
So - recent developments include a family of baby birds in the wren house and a family of chickadees in a birdhouse out back, complete with cheeping and parent birds flying in and out. Yesterday I saw a family of house sparrows, with the fledglings sitting in the forsythia, while the parents brought birdseed from the feeder to them.
Today featured a wren (I think it was) flying right at a squirrel and attacking it. You go girl, I cheered from the kitchen. Two birds came in view that were so fleeting that I couldn't be sure, but I thought they were yellow bellied sapsuckers.
And speaking of saps, I have been awakened by raucous conversations, campfires and last night the regular "thwack, thwack" of throwing a baseball against the back of the house and loud conversation by the new crop of renting students next door. On night one, I let it go; on night two, I called the police (1:30 a.m.) and last night, I hollered out the window "Will you guys shut up?" (at 11:50). Both the police and my shout were enough to put a stop to it. Those who remember my interaction with the guinea hens that used to waken us at 4:00 a.m. up in Bethlehem, will be able to picture me. The next step is to lob projectiles from my window . . . grenades anyone?
I've called the "Code Officer" who may or may not return my call. As I become increasingly sleep deprived, I become increasingly irrational. It's enough to make a person wish for heavy rain every night from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m.....that would keep the saps and the suckers inside at least.
So - recent developments include a family of baby birds in the wren house and a family of chickadees in a birdhouse out back, complete with cheeping and parent birds flying in and out. Yesterday I saw a family of house sparrows, with the fledglings sitting in the forsythia, while the parents brought birdseed from the feeder to them.
Today featured a wren (I think it was) flying right at a squirrel and attacking it. You go girl, I cheered from the kitchen. Two birds came in view that were so fleeting that I couldn't be sure, but I thought they were yellow bellied sapsuckers.
And speaking of saps, I have been awakened by raucous conversations, campfires and last night the regular "thwack, thwack" of throwing a baseball against the back of the house and loud conversation by the new crop of renting students next door. On night one, I let it go; on night two, I called the police (1:30 a.m.) and last night, I hollered out the window "Will you guys shut up?" (at 11:50). Both the police and my shout were enough to put a stop to it. Those who remember my interaction with the guinea hens that used to waken us at 4:00 a.m. up in Bethlehem, will be able to picture me. The next step is to lob projectiles from my window . . . grenades anyone?
I've called the "Code Officer" who may or may not return my call. As I become increasingly sleep deprived, I become increasingly irrational. It's enough to make a person wish for heavy rain every night from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m.....that would keep the saps and the suckers inside at least.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
My Ever Dear Daughter
Two weeks from today, Sarah will be married. Yesterday I went to a brunch to celebrate Sarah and the joy she is experiencing and sharing with all of us. For the second time, in the last few months, I was asked to “share Sarah stories.” I end up telling the stories of how challenging she was to me as a baby/toddler, and some of her exploits. Those were all true stories, but reveal as much about me and my uncertainty as a parent as they reveal about her. Sarah’s always been a risk-taker, and as such, provoked a lot of anxiety in me, since I am more of a middle-of-the-roader.
Be all that as it may, I think that Sarah and I have had a close relationship over the years, and there are so many stories that I want to tell about Sarah but can’t, because I know I’ll just get choked up.
There are the stories of Sarah the giver. She has made her exquisite quilts for her friends’ babies and quilts for her friends as wedding presents. She has made quilts for me, and Todd and Kat, and Todd. She made a quilted wall-hanging for me for my 60th birthday which touched me so much, because she captured a place (Eckels cottage at Lake Winnisquam) which has had lots of great memories for me and embroidered on it a part of a poem, “The Peace of Wild Things,” by Wendell Berry, which revealed her deep knowledge of who I am.
She has knitted sweaters for all of her friends’ babies and for her beloved niece and nephew. She has knitted (and sometimes re-knitted) sweaters for me. She has made countless pumpkin and fruit hats for her friends’ babies. She has knitted sweaters for herself and her grandmother.
Sarah has been the friend everyone could call on to help move, to help pack up, to drive to a colonoscopy and stand by while brain surgery was being performed. She was the person to drive me to my skin cancer surgery, neither of us having any idea that at the end of the day, I would walk out of the hospital looking like Frankenstein. She stayed for several days, changing a bandage I couldn’t bear to touch. More than once she has been Sarah the caregiver. Most recently, coming immediately when my dad was dying, giving up a conference to be with me and help me get moved out of my classroom as I started retirement and dealt with dad’s death and supported my mom.
There’s Sarah the helper – the one who has shown up and mowed the lawn, planted flowers, made dinner, cleaned closets and encouraged me to get rid of the junk of my life which has a tendency to overwhelm me. She’s the one who has painted bedrooms and bathrooms and hallways with me. She’s the one who’s come to visit grammie and take her for a ride when I’m gone.
There’s Sarah the social activist who worries that what she’s done with her life hasn’t done enough to solve the world’s ills, though she has participated in benefit concerts and in her own recitals has raised money for battered women and for Greg Mortenson’s schools for girls. Through her own work ethic and patient teaching of voice lessons to students of all abilities and backgrounds, she has given the gifts of self confidence to those who might never have performed before. She has, herself, “made a joyful noise” and helped others to do the same, bringing beauty and harmony into a broken world.
There’s Sarah the writer, who has several novels in the drawer, and has been an excellent reader for me, and in one case a collaborator with me on an as yet unpublished gem!! Perhaps now that her life has taken a turn for the happier, she will be able to finish some of those “Chick Lit” stories which have featured young women seeking a good relationship!
There’s Sarah the reader. We’ve long traded books and recommendations for books, and have roughly the same taste in books. Sarah has kept a reading journal for years, something I have only done sporadically. Now she has vowed to get books from the library instead of buying them, we don’t trade books as much, but the recommendations just keep coming!!
This, though a long blog entry, just scratches of the surface of all the things I love about Sarah. These are the things I wish I could say when suddenly on the spot for “stories” about Sarah. No one will be happier than I on June 20th, when Sarah marries Ben. It’s her time to shine, and to share her gifts and talents, her loyalty and her love with someone who will love and cherish her.
Be all that as it may, I think that Sarah and I have had a close relationship over the years, and there are so many stories that I want to tell about Sarah but can’t, because I know I’ll just get choked up.
There are the stories of Sarah the giver. She has made her exquisite quilts for her friends’ babies and quilts for her friends as wedding presents. She has made quilts for me, and Todd and Kat, and Todd. She made a quilted wall-hanging for me for my 60th birthday which touched me so much, because she captured a place (Eckels cottage at Lake Winnisquam) which has had lots of great memories for me and embroidered on it a part of a poem, “The Peace of Wild Things,” by Wendell Berry, which revealed her deep knowledge of who I am.
She has knitted sweaters for all of her friends’ babies and for her beloved niece and nephew. She has knitted (and sometimes re-knitted) sweaters for me. She has made countless pumpkin and fruit hats for her friends’ babies. She has knitted sweaters for herself and her grandmother.
Sarah has been the friend everyone could call on to help move, to help pack up, to drive to a colonoscopy and stand by while brain surgery was being performed. She was the person to drive me to my skin cancer surgery, neither of us having any idea that at the end of the day, I would walk out of the hospital looking like Frankenstein. She stayed for several days, changing a bandage I couldn’t bear to touch. More than once she has been Sarah the caregiver. Most recently, coming immediately when my dad was dying, giving up a conference to be with me and help me get moved out of my classroom as I started retirement and dealt with dad’s death and supported my mom.
There’s Sarah the helper – the one who has shown up and mowed the lawn, planted flowers, made dinner, cleaned closets and encouraged me to get rid of the junk of my life which has a tendency to overwhelm me. She’s the one who has painted bedrooms and bathrooms and hallways with me. She’s the one who’s come to visit grammie and take her for a ride when I’m gone.
There’s Sarah the social activist who worries that what she’s done with her life hasn’t done enough to solve the world’s ills, though she has participated in benefit concerts and in her own recitals has raised money for battered women and for Greg Mortenson’s schools for girls. Through her own work ethic and patient teaching of voice lessons to students of all abilities and backgrounds, she has given the gifts of self confidence to those who might never have performed before. She has, herself, “made a joyful noise” and helped others to do the same, bringing beauty and harmony into a broken world.
There’s Sarah the writer, who has several novels in the drawer, and has been an excellent reader for me, and in one case a collaborator with me on an as yet unpublished gem!! Perhaps now that her life has taken a turn for the happier, she will be able to finish some of those “Chick Lit” stories which have featured young women seeking a good relationship!
There’s Sarah the reader. We’ve long traded books and recommendations for books, and have roughly the same taste in books. Sarah has kept a reading journal for years, something I have only done sporadically. Now she has vowed to get books from the library instead of buying them, we don’t trade books as much, but the recommendations just keep coming!!
This, though a long blog entry, just scratches of the surface of all the things I love about Sarah. These are the things I wish I could say when suddenly on the spot for “stories” about Sarah. No one will be happier than I on June 20th, when Sarah marries Ben. It’s her time to shine, and to share her gifts and talents, her loyalty and her love with someone who will love and cherish her.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Blog entries I might have written
If I had had the time, there are several entries I would have written in the past weeks. It always seems that when I finally do write, I write two long entries, so this time I'm just going to give the titles and a short synopsis. Maybe these would be known as "blogettes."
First: "The Light at the End of This Particular Tunnel"
This blog would have been about discovering that my mom's episodes of seeing double were attributable to a phenomenon known as "ophthalmic migraines" brought on by stress which causes high blood pressure which causes kaleidoscopic vision. it took an ER visit and $15,000 worth of tests to give us no answers. It took a visit to the ophthamologist where the nurse also works at Langdon Place to get the diagnosis. It's a much longer story. Trust me.
Second: "Mother of the Bride Dress Dilemma" This blog would have featured photos of all 5 dresses that have been hanging in my upstairs. Comments about these dresses have ranged from "That's a depressing color," to "That looks like you're channeling your inner surfergirl from the 70s," to "Hmmm, I feel like I need 3 inch stiletto heels and a bar to go to." I'm only in the hole about $150.00 on the dresses that I'll be keeping, plus I now own a pair of silver sandals to wear when I'm remembering my California days . . . . .
Third: "One Woman Show."
This would be one of my whiny blogs, complaining about how tired I am of having to do everything, all the time, inside and outside the house, on my grant-funded project and in the care of my mother. Probably didn't need to write that one.
Fourth: "The Critter in the Basement, or is it my Imagination run amok"
Twice this winter I have noticed that something has chewed through the bag of thistle seed. The first time I pretended that probably the bag had a slit in it when i bought it. The second time (last week) I know that the bag didn't have a slit in it. Yesterday I noticed that a roll of paper towels by the washing machine has been chewed. I now have a mouse trap and a Have-a-heart trap baited in the basement. It's been there for 24 hours and so far no critter to be seen. What will I do if i catch something? Is it possible that it has squeezed under the basement door and into the house? This totally freaks me out!
Fifth: "Do I look Like I Need More Stuff?
Friends who are moving away are offering me stuff - from birdfeeders to clothes, to a chest freezer. Please re-read earlier blogs about the junque I already possess and am desperately trying to weed out.
Sixth: "Stuff I have Gotten Rid Of or, The Joys of Bulky Waste Week"
The picnic table and benches; the two t.v. stands; mom's and dad's t.v.; Rob's humongous homemade speakers; my old VCR; old screens; plastic windows made by my dad; two plastic outdoor side tables. How I paid $10.00 for a bulky waste sticker to go on the old t.v. only to have some scavenger take the t.v. Grrrrr. Someone actually took the old dehumidifier. You gotta love bulky waste pick-up week.
O.K. there's another one about the pink markers tied on the bushes out back, designating the offical "wetland" area of my back yard. Yeah, right. I KNOW it's wet, but was it always wet? Who gets to decide and designate "wetlands?" If all my neighbors stopped pumping their sump pumps out onto my property, would it still be a "wetland?"
First: "The Light at the End of This Particular Tunnel"
This blog would have been about discovering that my mom's episodes of seeing double were attributable to a phenomenon known as "ophthalmic migraines" brought on by stress which causes high blood pressure which causes kaleidoscopic vision. it took an ER visit and $15,000 worth of tests to give us no answers. It took a visit to the ophthamologist where the nurse also works at Langdon Place to get the diagnosis. It's a much longer story. Trust me.
Second: "Mother of the Bride Dress Dilemma" This blog would have featured photos of all 5 dresses that have been hanging in my upstairs. Comments about these dresses have ranged from "That's a depressing color," to "That looks like you're channeling your inner surfergirl from the 70s," to "Hmmm, I feel like I need 3 inch stiletto heels and a bar to go to." I'm only in the hole about $150.00 on the dresses that I'll be keeping, plus I now own a pair of silver sandals to wear when I'm remembering my California days . . . . .
Third: "One Woman Show."
This would be one of my whiny blogs, complaining about how tired I am of having to do everything, all the time, inside and outside the house, on my grant-funded project and in the care of my mother. Probably didn't need to write that one.
Fourth: "The Critter in the Basement, or is it my Imagination run amok"
Twice this winter I have noticed that something has chewed through the bag of thistle seed. The first time I pretended that probably the bag had a slit in it when i bought it. The second time (last week) I know that the bag didn't have a slit in it. Yesterday I noticed that a roll of paper towels by the washing machine has been chewed. I now have a mouse trap and a Have-a-heart trap baited in the basement. It's been there for 24 hours and so far no critter to be seen. What will I do if i catch something? Is it possible that it has squeezed under the basement door and into the house? This totally freaks me out!
Fifth: "Do I look Like I Need More Stuff?
Friends who are moving away are offering me stuff - from birdfeeders to clothes, to a chest freezer. Please re-read earlier blogs about the junque I already possess and am desperately trying to weed out.
Sixth: "Stuff I have Gotten Rid Of or, The Joys of Bulky Waste Week"
The picnic table and benches; the two t.v. stands; mom's and dad's t.v.; Rob's humongous homemade speakers; my old VCR; old screens; plastic windows made by my dad; two plastic outdoor side tables. How I paid $10.00 for a bulky waste sticker to go on the old t.v. only to have some scavenger take the t.v. Grrrrr. Someone actually took the old dehumidifier. You gotta love bulky waste pick-up week.
O.K. there's another one about the pink markers tied on the bushes out back, designating the offical "wetland" area of my back yard. Yeah, right. I KNOW it's wet, but was it always wet? Who gets to decide and designate "wetlands?" If all my neighbors stopped pumping their sump pumps out onto my property, would it still be a "wetland?"
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Epiphanies
I thought it was ironic that on the day the news of Swine Flu ramped up, I was sitting in the local Emergency Room with my mother. The waiting room was packed. I wondered how many people were there with symptoms of swine flu.
************
After our second visit in one month of a minimum of 3 hrs. in the ER, I went to a much-needed yoga class. I'll admit, I was feeling completely burned out on mother-care. Since March 27th, when i got a call from Langdon at the Fort Myers airport, it has been non-stop in doctor's offices and the E.R. Why me? I asked myself. How am I supposed to get anything done while spending so much time transporting and treating bronchitis, blurred vision, anemia, water on the knee? My yoga teacher read something at the end of class that made me change my point of view. It was something to the effect that "When things weigh you down, don't ask why me? Ask what you can learn about yourself during this challenge." I felt that for sure she was talking directly to me. I spent the rest of the week contemplating what I have learned about myself throughout the challenge of caring for my parents' needs over the past 5 years. I can't say that I'm thrilled with myself as i contemplate that. I've learned that I can be impatient and self-focused. I've learned that I don't suffer fools gladly. I've learned how easy it is to be resentful. I've learned that it is very hard to be the "go to" person all the time. I've learned that I fear the future for myself, as I inevitably age.
I've also learned what an amazing person my mother is. She remains cheerful and optimistic, no matter what. She doesn't remember much, but she remains engaged in life and loves to be outside to see the birds and flowers and enjoy the sun on her face. She is unfailingly grateful to me - to the point where it drives me crazy. She loves a simple outing, but she remains quietly accepting of her life at Langdon Place. She still wants to do things like read, help put on a family dinner, hem a dress, even though she can't. I hope that maybe I have a few of her genes in me so that I may grow old and be as brave as she is.
*************
I've been thinking a lot about a major core value that I hold, having been invited to write a "This I Believe" essay for an Oyster River High School project. I probably won't get to write the essay, but I have been thinking that I think empathy is probably the key value I have most based my life on. It helps that I am a Libra, and usually see both sides or many sides of a situation. One of my major heroes is Atticus in To Kill a Mockingbird, precisely because he tries to teach Scout and Jem the importance of seeing things from the other person's point of view. I've gone a long way in my head in thinking about this value and how it has shaped my teaching and my life. So . . . the other night when I opened a new volume of poetry by Mary Oliver and read this quotaton from Kierkegaard as the epigraph, I found myself completely revising what I thought was my core value. He wrote: "We create ourselves by our choices." That struck such a chord with me, and maybe it was because it was the same day I had been thinking about what I had learned about myself (see above), but I realized that when you get right down to it, I believe that we were given free will, and nothing is more important than the ability to make choices. In every situation we are presented with choices. This in itself isn't all that remarkable, but it served as a good reminder that I have the power to choose how I react to every single situation that presents itself to me, and that as i make those choices, I create myself.
I've never liked the saying "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger," because I don't think that is necessarily true, unless you reflect on what you have learned about the choices you made in the situation you were in. It really goes back to Socrates, who is another one of my heroes, who said, "The unexamined life is not worth living."
************
After our second visit in one month of a minimum of 3 hrs. in the ER, I went to a much-needed yoga class. I'll admit, I was feeling completely burned out on mother-care. Since March 27th, when i got a call from Langdon at the Fort Myers airport, it has been non-stop in doctor's offices and the E.R. Why me? I asked myself. How am I supposed to get anything done while spending so much time transporting and treating bronchitis, blurred vision, anemia, water on the knee? My yoga teacher read something at the end of class that made me change my point of view. It was something to the effect that "When things weigh you down, don't ask why me? Ask what you can learn about yourself during this challenge." I felt that for sure she was talking directly to me. I spent the rest of the week contemplating what I have learned about myself throughout the challenge of caring for my parents' needs over the past 5 years. I can't say that I'm thrilled with myself as i contemplate that. I've learned that I can be impatient and self-focused. I've learned that I don't suffer fools gladly. I've learned how easy it is to be resentful. I've learned that it is very hard to be the "go to" person all the time. I've learned that I fear the future for myself, as I inevitably age.
I've also learned what an amazing person my mother is. She remains cheerful and optimistic, no matter what. She doesn't remember much, but she remains engaged in life and loves to be outside to see the birds and flowers and enjoy the sun on her face. She is unfailingly grateful to me - to the point where it drives me crazy. She loves a simple outing, but she remains quietly accepting of her life at Langdon Place. She still wants to do things like read, help put on a family dinner, hem a dress, even though she can't. I hope that maybe I have a few of her genes in me so that I may grow old and be as brave as she is.
*************
I've been thinking a lot about a major core value that I hold, having been invited to write a "This I Believe" essay for an Oyster River High School project. I probably won't get to write the essay, but I have been thinking that I think empathy is probably the key value I have most based my life on. It helps that I am a Libra, and usually see both sides or many sides of a situation. One of my major heroes is Atticus in To Kill a Mockingbird, precisely because he tries to teach Scout and Jem the importance of seeing things from the other person's point of view. I've gone a long way in my head in thinking about this value and how it has shaped my teaching and my life. So . . . the other night when I opened a new volume of poetry by Mary Oliver and read this quotaton from Kierkegaard as the epigraph, I found myself completely revising what I thought was my core value. He wrote: "We create ourselves by our choices." That struck such a chord with me, and maybe it was because it was the same day I had been thinking about what I had learned about myself (see above), but I realized that when you get right down to it, I believe that we were given free will, and nothing is more important than the ability to make choices. In every situation we are presented with choices. This in itself isn't all that remarkable, but it served as a good reminder that I have the power to choose how I react to every single situation that presents itself to me, and that as i make those choices, I create myself.
I've never liked the saying "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger," because I don't think that is necessarily true, unless you reflect on what you have learned about the choices you made in the situation you were in. It really goes back to Socrates, who is another one of my heroes, who said, "The unexamined life is not worth living."
Monday, March 30, 2009
Good, Better, Best
Lest my readers think that my life is just full of complaints, I will hasten to mention some of the BEST things which have happened recently - from least to most!!
This winter is finally almost over. All but the big snowbank left at the end of the driveway has melted. That meant the tree service could come today to clean up all the downed limbs from my willow tree. Hooray!
Saturday, the "Check Engine" light came on as I was driving home from Sarah's. Today, after filling the gas tank and really tightening the cap on the tank, the light went out. Yay! I don't have to try to get the car in to the garage.
Today, I was helping to facilitate an all-day workshop in Concord. I told Langdon Place i couldn't take my mom to the hospital for an ultrasound on a potential blood clot. (We had spent 3 hours in the ER yesterday, only to find out that the ultrasound dept. is closed on weekends . . .) Further, I requested that she go by Langdon Place bus, which is set up to take people to medical appts. on Mondays. Much to my great joy, they actually took her on the bus today - she was the only person, and the driver, who doubles as the activities person, went in with her and they did the ultrasound. No results yet, but the system actually worked......for the first time in 5 years!!
Last week, through the generous invitation of my brother, I joined him and his wife on Sanibel Island for what was, in many respects, the first true vacation of my entire life. As I put nothing but shorts, capris and bathing suits in my suitcase, and left here in 30 degree weather, I sure hoped that it really was warm down there. It was. The beach was glorious, I walked each day and read 2 books. We swam i the ocean and in the pool. We saw about 35 different bird species on the beach and at the Ding Darling Wildlife Refuge, and I collected some beautiful shells for my collection. I slept well and enjoyed the company of my brother and his wife.
The past few weeks have been full of various bits of good news and much happiness from Sarah. I scarcely know where to begin!! Probably to say that she is engaged and we are looking forward to a wedding on June 20. I couldn't be happier for her and for Ben, her fiance. They seem perfect for each other, and I like him a lot. Possibly I will make him feel welcome in our family!!!
As part of the continuing joy of this event, I joined Sarah, Kat and Sarah's friend Lisa to shop for her wedding dress last Saturday. We had lots of hilarity as we 3 "advisors" wore fancy tiaras and felt free to give our opinion on some of the other brides and prom-goers who were trying on dresses. Sarah found a gorgeous dress which we all loved, and in which she will looks beautiful.
So here's a shout out to all things big and small that add up to a happy life!!
Life's little annoyances
So many things to write about and so little time! Tonight I'm going to first blast off about the USPS, or US Postal Service. A couple of background notes:
1. Sometime in early December all of my mail was delivered to a family at 16 Thompson Lane.
2. Sometime in early February, I went online to have my mail held for 2 days while I was away. When I returned, mail had been delivered, and the mailbox door was hanging wide open. Surprise, surprise, I went to the PO with a print-out of my online request in hand to complain. The clerk passed me right on to the Postmaster, who apologized profusely and said they were training new mail carriers on my route.......so????
Following that, two of my bills (which always come at the same time) never showed up for the month. One was for my equity line of credit, and fearing having the line cut off, I called and made an electronic payment.
3. I went to Atlanta in late February, and after the above two experiences, I asked a neighbor to bring my mail in each day. All went well. In the mail delivered during that time (well after the due dates) the two missing bills appeared. Possibly they had been on a slow barge around Cape Horn??
4. Last week, when I went to Sanibel for 6 days, I went to the P.O. to fill out the yellow "hold mail" form. I said I would pick up my mail when I returned and re-start delivery. Upon arriving home last Thursday, I found probably one day's worth of mail in the mailbox. I can't say that I was too surprised. The next day I went to the PO to pick up the rest of my mail. Mission accomplished. Oh no, not exactly.
5. No mail has been delivered either on Saturday or today, Monday. It is literally impossible for me to believe that I received not even a piece of junk mail on either of those days. So. . . . I will make my way to the P.O. tomorrow to see if they have any mail for me, and complain, once again to the Postmaster regarding the delivery of mail on my route. No wonder the Postal Service is losing money hand over fist. If I had another option, I would certainly exercise it.
1. Sometime in early December all of my mail was delivered to a family at 16 Thompson Lane.
2. Sometime in early February, I went online to have my mail held for 2 days while I was away. When I returned, mail had been delivered, and the mailbox door was hanging wide open. Surprise, surprise, I went to the PO with a print-out of my online request in hand to complain. The clerk passed me right on to the Postmaster, who apologized profusely and said they were training new mail carriers on my route.......so????
Following that, two of my bills (which always come at the same time) never showed up for the month. One was for my equity line of credit, and fearing having the line cut off, I called and made an electronic payment.
3. I went to Atlanta in late February, and after the above two experiences, I asked a neighbor to bring my mail in each day. All went well. In the mail delivered during that time (well after the due dates) the two missing bills appeared. Possibly they had been on a slow barge around Cape Horn??
4. Last week, when I went to Sanibel for 6 days, I went to the P.O. to fill out the yellow "hold mail" form. I said I would pick up my mail when I returned and re-start delivery. Upon arriving home last Thursday, I found probably one day's worth of mail in the mailbox. I can't say that I was too surprised. The next day I went to the PO to pick up the rest of my mail. Mission accomplished. Oh no, not exactly.
5. No mail has been delivered either on Saturday or today, Monday. It is literally impossible for me to believe that I received not even a piece of junk mail on either of those days. So. . . . I will make my way to the P.O. tomorrow to see if they have any mail for me, and complain, once again to the Postmaster regarding the delivery of mail on my route. No wonder the Postal Service is losing money hand over fist. If I had another option, I would certainly exercise it.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Wasting Time
I know, I know. I've never been a big time-waster. But look at me now! Another Dancing With the Stars season has just started, and I'm here, glued to it, as usual. Every season the women's costumes become more outrageous, as in they're wardrobe malfunctions waiting to happen. And each season there are a couple of completely unlikely dancers, like Steven Wozniak and whoever the cowboy guy was. He looked like he had a broomstick up his rear end. . . totally hilarious.
Last week there was the two-hour Bachelor finale . . . . which proved that trying to find your soulmate in front of millions of Americans, while surrounded by other potential soulmates is probably not the route to go. . . and why would anyone want to go on that show after what happened last week. Didn't see it? Oh well - you were probably doing something productive, while I. . . . I WAS WASTING TIME!!! And what could be better - the woman shunned on last week's show is now dancing on Dancing with the Stars -- quelle consolation prize!
Even my reading over the last two weeks has been just plain trash. Ha! What fun. I think this is my answer to endless snowstorms and WINTER. Time will tell whether I abandon all the trashy pursuits when the weather gets better. Or maybe this is somehow tied to the economy - a welcome relief from the ever-dropping Dow-Jones? Live it up, i say. Life is short, have fun! Waste some time along with me!!
Last week there was the two-hour Bachelor finale . . . . which proved that trying to find your soulmate in front of millions of Americans, while surrounded by other potential soulmates is probably not the route to go. . . and why would anyone want to go on that show after what happened last week. Didn't see it? Oh well - you were probably doing something productive, while I. . . . I WAS WASTING TIME!!! And what could be better - the woman shunned on last week's show is now dancing on Dancing with the Stars -- quelle consolation prize!
Even my reading over the last two weeks has been just plain trash. Ha! What fun. I think this is my answer to endless snowstorms and WINTER. Time will tell whether I abandon all the trashy pursuits when the weather gets better. Or maybe this is somehow tied to the economy - a welcome relief from the ever-dropping Dow-Jones? Live it up, i say. Life is short, have fun! Waste some time along with me!!
Monday, March 2, 2009
What is wrong with our country?
Case #1: On Friday, my friend Andrea went to Logan to meet two men, an Israeli and a Palestinian. Each had been a combatant on the side of his country, and both have put aside their militant approach, in order to work for peace. It was the first time the Israeli man had been to the U.S., and he came through immigration in under two hours. The Palestinian man had been in the country last year and had met with members of Congress. He is a founder of the organization Combatants for Peace, a grassroots group of former soldiers, who are now opposed to violence. In the fall, some peace groups applied for a visa for him to come to this country. Visa was denied. Then our government invited him to come to participate in a conference. A subsequent visa application for this month was approved.
Friday, he was detained for 7 hours at Logan. Then admitted to our country. He and the Israeli man are on a speaking tour for the next month, and have been invited to the U.N. Next week they will be given the Courage of Conscience award at the Peace Abbey, in Massachusetts. But it seems that a Palestinian, by definition must be a terrorist.
Case #2: Locally, Seacoast Peace Response has sponsored a series of programs at the Portsmouth Public Library, to try to get at the Palestinian's point of view on the problems in the Middle East. My understanding of the situation is that at each program, a well-organized group of Jews have attended and aggressively disputed not just the content of the programs, but the groups right to present the programs at the public library. One man has now threatened to ruin the careers of the two facilitators/discussionn leaders, a UNH professor and a local pscychologist.
The library has cancelled the most recent program, a dramatic presentation which presents the story of Rachel Corrie, a peace activist who tried to prevent the bulldozing of Palestinian homes by the Israeli military, and was killed by a bulldozer.
Are there not at least two sides to this conflict? Do we not live in a free country? Isn't education the means to understanding? Shouldn't a publicly-funded facility be the ideal place to host challenging programs? Why is there so much fear and anger on the part of the protesters?
We have met the enemy, and it is us.
Friday, he was detained for 7 hours at Logan. Then admitted to our country. He and the Israeli man are on a speaking tour for the next month, and have been invited to the U.N. Next week they will be given the Courage of Conscience award at the Peace Abbey, in Massachusetts. But it seems that a Palestinian, by definition must be a terrorist.
Case #2: Locally, Seacoast Peace Response has sponsored a series of programs at the Portsmouth Public Library, to try to get at the Palestinian's point of view on the problems in the Middle East. My understanding of the situation is that at each program, a well-organized group of Jews have attended and aggressively disputed not just the content of the programs, but the groups right to present the programs at the public library. One man has now threatened to ruin the careers of the two facilitators/discussionn leaders, a UNH professor and a local pscychologist.
The library has cancelled the most recent program, a dramatic presentation which presents the story of Rachel Corrie, a peace activist who tried to prevent the bulldozing of Palestinian homes by the Israeli military, and was killed by a bulldozer.
Are there not at least two sides to this conflict? Do we not live in a free country? Isn't education the means to understanding? Shouldn't a publicly-funded facility be the ideal place to host challenging programs? Why is there so much fear and anger on the part of the protesters?
We have met the enemy, and it is us.
Why am I surprised?
By now, you will agree that I should not be surprised by anything the local medical establishment can throw at me. But I am. I believe I wrote earlier about the wisdom of the doctor at the Hematology Clinic, who said, and I quote "It's silly for you andd your mom to sit here for two hours only to find out that she doesn't need a shot of Procrit." I couldn't have agreed with him more, because two hours in the clinic translates to 3 plus hours of my time, counting driving to and from, etc., and a very long afternoon for a 93 year old.
So, today, following the protocol suggested by him, I got the results of the labs done on Friday, and since her hemoglobin was below 11, I called the Hematology Clinic to schedule the Procrit shot. Why did I think it would actually be that easy? Because I'm naive and trusting, and it seemed like such a common sense approach.
First, the woman I was told to call wasn't at her desk. OK, no big deal. She'll call me back. Instead, another woman calls and tells me that Dr.Sonnenborn isn't in the clinic today, and they'll have to talk to him tomorrow. O.k., that's not a problem. Then she tells me that if Dr. Sonnenborn wants her to have a shot, that she'll have to have the labs done again in the clinic, because Medicare has strict rules covering what her number has to be in order for her to have the Procrit shot (and for them to pay the $150.00 for it). So, guess what that means? A two-hour visit to the clinic. And lab work that costs a cool $784 dollars. Repeated. For nothing. She's heading into anemia and needs the shot. It's that simple, based on what the doctors have said. Oh, and should I mention that according to the women at the clinic, Langdon Place hadn't faxed the lab results to them? Maybe they sent them to the doctor's office. . . . what are the chances?
So, we're back to square one. Do not pass Go! Do not collect $200.00.
So, today, following the protocol suggested by him, I got the results of the labs done on Friday, and since her hemoglobin was below 11, I called the Hematology Clinic to schedule the Procrit shot. Why did I think it would actually be that easy? Because I'm naive and trusting, and it seemed like such a common sense approach.
First, the woman I was told to call wasn't at her desk. OK, no big deal. She'll call me back. Instead, another woman calls and tells me that Dr.Sonnenborn isn't in the clinic today, and they'll have to talk to him tomorrow. O.k., that's not a problem. Then she tells me that if Dr. Sonnenborn wants her to have a shot, that she'll have to have the labs done again in the clinic, because Medicare has strict rules covering what her number has to be in order for her to have the Procrit shot (and for them to pay the $150.00 for it). So, guess what that means? A two-hour visit to the clinic. And lab work that costs a cool $784 dollars. Repeated. For nothing. She's heading into anemia and needs the shot. It's that simple, based on what the doctors have said. Oh, and should I mention that according to the women at the clinic, Langdon Place hadn't faxed the lab results to them? Maybe they sent them to the doctor's office. . . . what are the chances?
So, we're back to square one. Do not pass Go! Do not collect $200.00.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Shovel-ready projects
Dear President Obama,
I have a number of shovel-ready projects which will require a fairly modest amount from the new stimulus package but will, I believe, create a number of jobs in New Hampshire. I respectfully submit my list of requests for your consideration. Before you reject my request before even reading it, I want to offer my credentials as a reliable consumer and person who pays her income taxes to help support the various bail-outs which have occurred thus far on the last President's watch and now on your watch. I also want to offer evidence of myself as someone who is trying her level best to keep the economy going. To wit in the past 3 months:
1. I have just paid for a complete renovation of my upstairs bathroom, pumping about $8,500 into the local economy.
2. I have just booked two week-long trips, helping to support the airlines, and no doubt boosting the economy in each of my destinations.
3. I have recently purchased clothing that I didn't actually need, but thought I could do my part to stimulate the fashion industry and prop up L.L. Bean.
4. Similarly, I have purchased 6 books in the past month, some to give as gifts, but most to read myself. I believe in supporting the arts (in this case a NH writer, a Utah writer and an Italian writer, proving that I am also participating in the global economy).
5. I have purchased new windows for my living room at a total cost of approximately $3500. Here I provided work for a local carpenter and have improved my energy efficiency, therby reducing my dependence on that pesky foreign oil. (It occurred to me today, Mr. President, that if we think the economy has collapsed this year, what will the economic collapse look like when we pump the last drop of oil???)
So, I believe my track record is strong, and I should qualify for my share of the stimulus pie. Here are my shovel-ready projects:
1. Extensive culvert work to channel the e-coli-filled water flowing through my backyard UNDERGROUND. $10,000
2. Clean-up of ice storm downed willow branches: $400.00
3. Removal of my old mailbox post and the 3 tons of concrete in which my ex-husband set it. Removal of an old basketball standard similarly set in 3 tons of concrete: $500.00
4. Removal of the current driveway and replacement with a more eco-friendly material, hoping to eliminate some of the nasty run-off in the basement and the backyard: $10,000
5. Relining of two chimney flues. Really only one needs to be relined, but in the process, they may smash the other one by accident, so I'm including it in my list: $3- 5,000.00
6. Renovation of the downstairs bathroom, making it handicapped accessible, which will make it possible for me to stay in my home when I am ancient, thereby saving the County Home a lot of money, not to mention the Medicaid system: $8,000 minus the cost of the toilet which I have already had installed!
So, Mr. President, my infrastructure would be greatly enhanced by these rather modest, but shovel-ready projects. A mere $32,000 or so should suffice, and compared to the roughly $750 billion available, I don't think my request is too exorbitant. The trickle down effect of this investment would stimulate the local economy, and would make Ronald Reagan proud. I eagerly await your approval.
Sincerely,
Big Red
I have a number of shovel-ready projects which will require a fairly modest amount from the new stimulus package but will, I believe, create a number of jobs in New Hampshire. I respectfully submit my list of requests for your consideration. Before you reject my request before even reading it, I want to offer my credentials as a reliable consumer and person who pays her income taxes to help support the various bail-outs which have occurred thus far on the last President's watch and now on your watch. I also want to offer evidence of myself as someone who is trying her level best to keep the economy going. To wit in the past 3 months:
1. I have just paid for a complete renovation of my upstairs bathroom, pumping about $8,500 into the local economy.
2. I have just booked two week-long trips, helping to support the airlines, and no doubt boosting the economy in each of my destinations.
3. I have recently purchased clothing that I didn't actually need, but thought I could do my part to stimulate the fashion industry and prop up L.L. Bean.
4. Similarly, I have purchased 6 books in the past month, some to give as gifts, but most to read myself. I believe in supporting the arts (in this case a NH writer, a Utah writer and an Italian writer, proving that I am also participating in the global economy).
5. I have purchased new windows for my living room at a total cost of approximately $3500. Here I provided work for a local carpenter and have improved my energy efficiency, therby reducing my dependence on that pesky foreign oil. (It occurred to me today, Mr. President, that if we think the economy has collapsed this year, what will the economic collapse look like when we pump the last drop of oil???)
So, I believe my track record is strong, and I should qualify for my share of the stimulus pie. Here are my shovel-ready projects:
1. Extensive culvert work to channel the e-coli-filled water flowing through my backyard UNDERGROUND. $10,000
2. Clean-up of ice storm downed willow branches: $400.00
3. Removal of my old mailbox post and the 3 tons of concrete in which my ex-husband set it. Removal of an old basketball standard similarly set in 3 tons of concrete: $500.00
4. Removal of the current driveway and replacement with a more eco-friendly material, hoping to eliminate some of the nasty run-off in the basement and the backyard: $10,000
5. Relining of two chimney flues. Really only one needs to be relined, but in the process, they may smash the other one by accident, so I'm including it in my list: $3- 5,000.00
6. Renovation of the downstairs bathroom, making it handicapped accessible, which will make it possible for me to stay in my home when I am ancient, thereby saving the County Home a lot of money, not to mention the Medicaid system: $8,000 minus the cost of the toilet which I have already had installed!
So, Mr. President, my infrastructure would be greatly enhanced by these rather modest, but shovel-ready projects. A mere $32,000 or so should suffice, and compared to the roughly $750 billion available, I don't think my request is too exorbitant. The trickle down effect of this investment would stimulate the local economy, and would make Ronald Reagan proud. I eagerly await your approval.
Sincerely,
Big Red
Only in Cow Hampshire
While the Congress debated the stimulus plan, and citizens contacted Congress persons to successfully remove one billion dollars for nuclear weapons (do we need any more??) New Hampshire was undergoing its own budget revolution, announced by Governor John Lynch last Thursday.
Part of the budget for the next biennium includes trying to close a huge budget deficit. Since NH only has a property tax, the bulk of which goes to fund local education, towns and counties, the state has few options for raising revenue. Most of the tried and true methods include raising the cigarette tax, raising the business profits tax and trying to sell more liquor and lottery tickets. Quite the plan, eh? (My personal suggestion has always been to install condom machines in all high school bathrooms and fund state education through the revenue they would generate, but I digress.)
So, it comes as no surprise that really, the only thing the governor can do is cut state expenditures and consolidate state functions and departments. So, I'm sorry to report that:
1. We're apparently not drinking enough in NH and the governor plans to close several "underperforming" state-run liquor stores.
and 2. Our visionary governor has decided to consolidate the State Library and the NH State Council on the Arts (part of the Division of Cultural Resources) with the Department of Agriculture and the Fish and Game Department. I bet you are already imagining how these four agencies are related . . . I remember a painting a few years ago which had dung daubed on it and. . . . well . . . the moose license plates, made by prisoners, are sold to raise money for the Division of Cultural Resources . . . and......beyond that, I'm just speechless.
On the serious side of this, the State Arts Council is suffering a loss of 1/2 its 9 person staff. The Executive Director position will not be funded going forward, and the amount of money the Council gets from the Nat. Endowment for the Arts is a match for the amount of state money funding the agency, so of course that funding will be cut in half as well.
This is indeed a short-sighted strategy. Not only is there a lot of evidence to support the idea that the arts actually generate a lot of money in the rest of the economy, but it's obvious to most of us that the arts feed our souls and help us to transcend our earthly troubles. The arts helps us to understand ourselves and the world around us. And I'm just talking about what consuming the arts can do for us. To be an artist and to produce art is a way to share a personal vision of the world, and to interpret the world to others. Instead of being the first to be eliminated from schools and from state government, the arts should be last. I hope we can find a way to shovel through the b.s. in the Governor's office, and preserve the State Council on the Arts so that they can continue to bring art to schools, communities and individuals.
Part of the budget for the next biennium includes trying to close a huge budget deficit. Since NH only has a property tax, the bulk of which goes to fund local education, towns and counties, the state has few options for raising revenue. Most of the tried and true methods include raising the cigarette tax, raising the business profits tax and trying to sell more liquor and lottery tickets. Quite the plan, eh? (My personal suggestion has always been to install condom machines in all high school bathrooms and fund state education through the revenue they would generate, but I digress.)
So, it comes as no surprise that really, the only thing the governor can do is cut state expenditures and consolidate state functions and departments. So, I'm sorry to report that:
1. We're apparently not drinking enough in NH and the governor plans to close several "underperforming" state-run liquor stores.
and 2. Our visionary governor has decided to consolidate the State Library and the NH State Council on the Arts (part of the Division of Cultural Resources) with the Department of Agriculture and the Fish and Game Department. I bet you are already imagining how these four agencies are related . . . I remember a painting a few years ago which had dung daubed on it and. . . . well . . . the moose license plates, made by prisoners, are sold to raise money for the Division of Cultural Resources . . . and......beyond that, I'm just speechless.
On the serious side of this, the State Arts Council is suffering a loss of 1/2 its 9 person staff. The Executive Director position will not be funded going forward, and the amount of money the Council gets from the Nat. Endowment for the Arts is a match for the amount of state money funding the agency, so of course that funding will be cut in half as well.
This is indeed a short-sighted strategy. Not only is there a lot of evidence to support the idea that the arts actually generate a lot of money in the rest of the economy, but it's obvious to most of us that the arts feed our souls and help us to transcend our earthly troubles. The arts helps us to understand ourselves and the world around us. And I'm just talking about what consuming the arts can do for us. To be an artist and to produce art is a way to share a personal vision of the world, and to interpret the world to others. Instead of being the first to be eliminated from schools and from state government, the arts should be last. I hope we can find a way to shovel through the b.s. in the Governor's office, and preserve the State Council on the Arts so that they can continue to bring art to schools, communities and individuals.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Not in my back yard
I never cease to be amazed by people. Yesterday was a meeting of people interested in participating in a community garden. Though the site was undecided, one of the points of a community garden is to place it IN THE COMMUNITY so people can walk to it and . . . gasp . . . develop a bigger sense of community.
What a good idea, thought I. A couple of years ago I had mentioned the idea of having a community garden on the Tot Lot which comprises about 4 acres in the center of the Faculty Neighborhood, where I live. People I mentioned it to seemed to think that was a good idea. Well, to make a long story short, the Tot Lot seemed to be one of the remaining open spaces in Durham, and a lot of people from my neighborhood responded to the email soliciting interest in a community garden.
So . . . the predictable happened. Word spread about the garden in the Tot Lot (though it hadn't actually been decided) and a host of abutters showed up at yesterday's meeting to protest the siting of a garden there. What? I was really dumbfounded by the strength of the negative response. You would have thought we were planning to place a hog farm in the space.
People were sure that traffic would be a problem for small children in the neighborhood and parking would be another issue. Hello - the garden is for people who live nearby and can walk . . . Well, deer would be attracted to the area . . . (deer are already in the area and a fence would have to be erected.) Well, mice are a problem, because people who care for the garden would just leave produce to rot . . . and on, and on.
The man who convened this meeting (out of the goodness of his heart and because he is concerned about eating local food, sustainability, etc.) finally got it through to people that if that space isn't going to work, for whatever reasons, we will look for another place to put the garden.
I was pretty thoroughly depressed by this discussion, but refusing to give up (predictably) have volunteered to be on the garden planning committee. And as far as I can tell, since the University of NH owns that land, if we discover that it is the best place to put a garden, the abutters may have to suck it up!
What a good idea, thought I. A couple of years ago I had mentioned the idea of having a community garden on the Tot Lot which comprises about 4 acres in the center of the Faculty Neighborhood, where I live. People I mentioned it to seemed to think that was a good idea. Well, to make a long story short, the Tot Lot seemed to be one of the remaining open spaces in Durham, and a lot of people from my neighborhood responded to the email soliciting interest in a community garden.
So . . . the predictable happened. Word spread about the garden in the Tot Lot (though it hadn't actually been decided) and a host of abutters showed up at yesterday's meeting to protest the siting of a garden there. What? I was really dumbfounded by the strength of the negative response. You would have thought we were planning to place a hog farm in the space.
People were sure that traffic would be a problem for small children in the neighborhood and parking would be another issue. Hello - the garden is for people who live nearby and can walk . . . Well, deer would be attracted to the area . . . (deer are already in the area and a fence would have to be erected.) Well, mice are a problem, because people who care for the garden would just leave produce to rot . . . and on, and on.
The man who convened this meeting (out of the goodness of his heart and because he is concerned about eating local food, sustainability, etc.) finally got it through to people that if that space isn't going to work, for whatever reasons, we will look for another place to put the garden.
I was pretty thoroughly depressed by this discussion, but refusing to give up (predictably) have volunteered to be on the garden planning committee. And as far as I can tell, since the University of NH owns that land, if we discover that it is the best place to put a garden, the abutters may have to suck it up!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Advice to President Obama
Ethics Rules: Here's the deal, explained to me early on in my teaching career. When you make a rule, you imagine what it will be like if your best kid breaks that rule. Can you imagine yourself enforcing your rule say, for plagiarism, if your most outstanding student plagiarizes a paper?? If you can't imagine yourself enforcing the rule, then modify the rule before you issue it, until you can enforce it for every kid in your class.
So President Obama . . . if you're not going to allow previous lobbyists to serve in your administration, then that applies to everyone. No waivers. Otherwise, you're not really about changing the culture in Washington. You're just changing it when it suits you. Or worse, you appear to be a hypocrite. YOUR lobbyists are o.k., others are not.
While I'm at it. Why should anyone who has failed to pay his/her taxes be confirmed to serve in your administration? Fortunately, Tom Daschle withdrew. But what about Tim Geithner? He's actually going to be overseeing the financial institutions in this country and he couldn't pay his taxes? Turbo-tax failed him. A couple of sharp women were denied offices during the Clinton years and ridiculed in the press because of employing immigrants and not paying social security for them. Is this just about the same old double standard?
I admire you for taking the moral high ground. The question is, can you stay on that moral high ground??
So President Obama . . . if you're not going to allow previous lobbyists to serve in your administration, then that applies to everyone. No waivers. Otherwise, you're not really about changing the culture in Washington. You're just changing it when it suits you. Or worse, you appear to be a hypocrite. YOUR lobbyists are o.k., others are not.
While I'm at it. Why should anyone who has failed to pay his/her taxes be confirmed to serve in your administration? Fortunately, Tom Daschle withdrew. But what about Tim Geithner? He's actually going to be overseeing the financial institutions in this country and he couldn't pay his taxes? Turbo-tax failed him. A couple of sharp women were denied offices during the Clinton years and ridiculed in the press because of employing immigrants and not paying social security for them. Is this just about the same old double standard?
I admire you for taking the moral high ground. The question is, can you stay on that moral high ground??
Recent thoughts
Last week I attended a lecture by former 60s radical Angela Davis. Her lecture was part of a series of events at UNH marking a month of celebrations of Martin Luther King, Jr. I have never seen so many people in Johnson Theater in all the years I have attended concerts, plays, etc. I got there early enough to get a seat in the front row of the back section.
First, I have to say that I was underwhelmed by Ms. Davis. I guess I expected someone way more radical and controversial, and someone more fiery in her delivery. In fact, she was a rambling speaker, apparently scrolling through notes on a laptop on the podium in front of her. After 45 minutes, a buzzer sounded and she said that was her alarm, to let her know when she had reached 45 minutes, so she could end. She proceeded to talk for another half an hour! Her main message: We need to do something about the number of black men in prison.
To my right was a chatty young woman, who was an Oyster River Grad. of 1977. I didn't know her or her family, but she proceeded to fill me in on their entire lives and on the web site created for her class and their reunion. To my left was a man about my age (if you can tell age by hair color) in a dark gray suit. I think he may have been someone in the UNH hierarchy. He held a Blackberry-type device, and though we were asked to turn off all phones, he silenced his device, but checked it obsessively throughout the almost-two hours we sat in the theater. He must have been able to receive email,and he must have been expecting some awfully important messages. Each time he clicked it on, it lit up the whole space around us in the dimly lit theater. I thought he was pretty dimly lit myself.
I'm embarrassed to admit that the minute Angela Davis finished speaking, I joined probably a third of the audience in beating feet out of the stuffy theater, skipping the rather bad music group which had opened the whole event and still had some music to perform at the end. The moment the crowd stepped through the doors to the outside, I was just about the only one who didn't whip out my cellphone and call someone. I walked to the parking lot beside a young man who was arranging a basketball game for 11 o'clock the next night. I marvel at our culture, and the fact that we are so slavishly dependent on our communications devices.
And that brings me to my next random reflection. The changeover to digital t.v. which has just been postponed because millions of Americans might actually be without t.v. for an unspecified amount of time. I wonder about the postponement. Is the government afraid that there might be some kind of revolution if Americans couldn't watch t.v.? Can you imagine outraged citizens marching on Washington? Are they afraid that people might actually start reading if their t.v.s went fuzzy? What would happen if people actuallly started talking to each other in the evenings? Good God! No wonder the government wants to make sure that every last household has the necessary coupon for buying the converter before the switch occurs.
Rise up Americans. Insist on your right to watch t.v. and actually see a picture!!!
First, I have to say that I was underwhelmed by Ms. Davis. I guess I expected someone way more radical and controversial, and someone more fiery in her delivery. In fact, she was a rambling speaker, apparently scrolling through notes on a laptop on the podium in front of her. After 45 minutes, a buzzer sounded and she said that was her alarm, to let her know when she had reached 45 minutes, so she could end. She proceeded to talk for another half an hour! Her main message: We need to do something about the number of black men in prison.
To my right was a chatty young woman, who was an Oyster River Grad. of 1977. I didn't know her or her family, but she proceeded to fill me in on their entire lives and on the web site created for her class and their reunion. To my left was a man about my age (if you can tell age by hair color) in a dark gray suit. I think he may have been someone in the UNH hierarchy. He held a Blackberry-type device, and though we were asked to turn off all phones, he silenced his device, but checked it obsessively throughout the almost-two hours we sat in the theater. He must have been able to receive email,and he must have been expecting some awfully important messages. Each time he clicked it on, it lit up the whole space around us in the dimly lit theater. I thought he was pretty dimly lit myself.
I'm embarrassed to admit that the minute Angela Davis finished speaking, I joined probably a third of the audience in beating feet out of the stuffy theater, skipping the rather bad music group which had opened the whole event and still had some music to perform at the end. The moment the crowd stepped through the doors to the outside, I was just about the only one who didn't whip out my cellphone and call someone. I walked to the parking lot beside a young man who was arranging a basketball game for 11 o'clock the next night. I marvel at our culture, and the fact that we are so slavishly dependent on our communications devices.
And that brings me to my next random reflection. The changeover to digital t.v. which has just been postponed because millions of Americans might actually be without t.v. for an unspecified amount of time. I wonder about the postponement. Is the government afraid that there might be some kind of revolution if Americans couldn't watch t.v.? Can you imagine outraged citizens marching on Washington? Are they afraid that people might actually start reading if their t.v.s went fuzzy? What would happen if people actuallly started talking to each other in the evenings? Good God! No wonder the government wants to make sure that every last household has the necessary coupon for buying the converter before the switch occurs.
Rise up Americans. Insist on your right to watch t.v. and actually see a picture!!!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
I'm a Believer
Today has been a great day in our nation's history. I went to bed last night excited and I woke up this morning just plain excited to be alive to witness the swearing in of our first African American President. Though I was a staunch Hilary supporter, I can still appreciate and embrace the change that today represents in our history. I've listened to all the official pundits comment on Barack's speech today, and I am going to offer my own thoughts about it. I was surprised to hear Brooks and Shields (on Lehrer tonight) say they thought it was a good speech, but not a great speech. I beg to differ.
No one has commented on the fact that he began the speech with "My fellow citizens," instead of "My fellow Americans." This may seem to be a fine distinction, but I think it's important, because if he and we are "fellow citizens," it implies our mutual responsitilities as members of the polity. I think it suggested that we are all in this together, and as I tried to create a student-centered classroom, he is hoping to create a citizen-centered democracy. That means he's throwing the responsibility for our own governance into our hands. Indeed, later in the speech, he made it clear that we will all be called upon to offer our services, our talents, and make some sacrifices if we are to regain our place in the world and our financial stability at home. This is not unlike what JFK asked us to do at his inauguration. I hope it means that we at the grass-roots level can offer up ideas and that potentially we will be heard.
Secondly, I appreciated listening to his sheer ability to use the language in a clear, yet beautiful way. He is a gifted orator, but he is also a brilliant thinker and wordsmith. He used language that came from a variety of sources, from the Bible to Washington's speech to the troops, to his closing in which he drew from the Declaration of Independence. It is heartening to an ex-English teacher to hear his gift for language. Take, for instance, the sentence "On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics." The alliteration of the words begiinning with "p" tie the words "proclaim," "petty grievances," "false promises and "politics," in a way that reinforces the meaning as it makes for a mellifluous phrase. (If I do say so myself!)
Finally, and most important to me is the fact that I believe he successfully repudiated the past 8 years and re-set the moral compass of this country. That's a lot to accomplish in a 20 minute speech, but I believe that he did no less than that. He made it clear that no matter what threats we face, they will not cause us to abandon the ideals stated in all the founding documents of our democracy, and which have guided our progress for all these years, until the Presidency of G.W. Bush. The proof will be what we do and what he does to make good on the promises of this speech and all the speeches of his campaign.
I should also make it clear that I know that his major speechwriter, Jon Favreau wrote a draft of this speech, but I think that Obama essentially authored the final text, and according to at least one newspaper, sat with Favreau at the outset to say what his vision was for the speech. Favreau and others researched other inagural speeches and searched out possible texts from which Obama could draw. It was clearly a collaboration. Which is what the Obama Presidency and American democracy is all about.
No one has commented on the fact that he began the speech with "My fellow citizens," instead of "My fellow Americans." This may seem to be a fine distinction, but I think it's important, because if he and we are "fellow citizens," it implies our mutual responsitilities as members of the polity. I think it suggested that we are all in this together, and as I tried to create a student-centered classroom, he is hoping to create a citizen-centered democracy. That means he's throwing the responsibility for our own governance into our hands. Indeed, later in the speech, he made it clear that we will all be called upon to offer our services, our talents, and make some sacrifices if we are to regain our place in the world and our financial stability at home. This is not unlike what JFK asked us to do at his inauguration. I hope it means that we at the grass-roots level can offer up ideas and that potentially we will be heard.
Secondly, I appreciated listening to his sheer ability to use the language in a clear, yet beautiful way. He is a gifted orator, but he is also a brilliant thinker and wordsmith. He used language that came from a variety of sources, from the Bible to Washington's speech to the troops, to his closing in which he drew from the Declaration of Independence. It is heartening to an ex-English teacher to hear his gift for language. Take, for instance, the sentence "On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics." The alliteration of the words begiinning with "p" tie the words "proclaim," "petty grievances," "false promises and "politics," in a way that reinforces the meaning as it makes for a mellifluous phrase. (If I do say so myself!)
Finally, and most important to me is the fact that I believe he successfully repudiated the past 8 years and re-set the moral compass of this country. That's a lot to accomplish in a 20 minute speech, but I believe that he did no less than that. He made it clear that no matter what threats we face, they will not cause us to abandon the ideals stated in all the founding documents of our democracy, and which have guided our progress for all these years, until the Presidency of G.W. Bush. The proof will be what we do and what he does to make good on the promises of this speech and all the speeches of his campaign.
I should also make it clear that I know that his major speechwriter, Jon Favreau wrote a draft of this speech, but I think that Obama essentially authored the final text, and according to at least one newspaper, sat with Favreau at the outset to say what his vision was for the speech. Favreau and others researched other inagural speeches and searched out possible texts from which Obama could draw. It was clearly a collaboration. Which is what the Obama Presidency and American democracy is all about.
Monday, January 19, 2009
From bathrooms to bachelors. ....
It took four hours to demolish the bathroom today. The tub stays and the toilet removal awaits the plumber on Wednesday. Otherwise, the hideous vanity with the peach-colored knobs, the yellowed tub surround, the gobs of caulking are all in the landfill. Starting tomorrow, the rebuilding process begins.
Now, after a day that has sort of disappeared into the dust, I find myself watching The Bachelor, and wondering what it is about this show that fascinates me and horrifies me all at the same time. It's all so artificial. The girls are all so catty. The guy is completely shallow. The amount of money spent on this show is phenomenal.....tonight has involved a private jet to Las Vegas, a helicopter ride, a million dollar diamond necklace, drinks at every turn, and completely superficial conversation. Did I mention shallow? Try: "Oh wow." "This is so beautiful." Oh wow." "This is so beautiful." Oh this is the best date I've ever been on."'
Oh whatever!!! I kind of amuse myself by thinking of people in my age bracket doing a similar show......now that would be FUNNY!!!
Stay tuned for bathroom updates and random thoughts . . .. .
Now, after a day that has sort of disappeared into the dust, I find myself watching The Bachelor, and wondering what it is about this show that fascinates me and horrifies me all at the same time. It's all so artificial. The girls are all so catty. The guy is completely shallow. The amount of money spent on this show is phenomenal.....tonight has involved a private jet to Las Vegas, a helicopter ride, a million dollar diamond necklace, drinks at every turn, and completely superficial conversation. Did I mention shallow? Try: "Oh wow." "This is so beautiful." Oh wow." "This is so beautiful." Oh this is the best date I've ever been on."'
Oh whatever!!! I kind of amuse myself by thinking of people in my age bracket doing a similar show......now that would be FUNNY!!!
Stay tuned for bathroom updates and random thoughts . . .. .
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Peace in Gaza
Today a peace vigil was scheduled for noon - two in the triangle in the center of Durham. I looked out at the storm today and thought "they'll never hold a vigil in this weather." I went about cleaning out my bathroom cabinets and then ironed some fabric and got ready to make a pot holder.
My phone rang about 5 minutes before the scheduled vigil, and it was Andrea, saying she was about to leave her house and drive to Durham. Well, what am I, a fair-weather vigiller? (vigilante?) I said, o.k., I'll walk into town and meet you there. I donned snow pants, two layers of socks, my new warm Ugg-type boots, jacket, scarf, hat and new, waterproof ski gloves, grabbed a waterproof sign from the basement which says "War is unhealthy for children and other growing things" and walked on into town on unplowed roads, with about 10 inches of snow on the ground and still coming down hard.
Much to my surprise and delight, there was a good turnout of people holding signs calling for peace in Gaza, including one of my former Poetry & Fiction students who told me how much he had loved my class. That always makes me feel good, and doubly good that he is now a peace activist with the UNH Peace and Justice League. Today's event was organized by them and the Students for a Democratic Society at Oyster River High, so of course, I saw some kids from there whom I also know.
One of the great things about today's vigil was the fact that there was a Palestinian man there with his children and an Egyptian man with his children. Just talking with them was an interesting experience. There were some other regular vigilers who are often in Portsmouth on a Friday night, including one guy from my neighborhood who has made it his business to give away signs saying "Support the Troops, End the War," by placing them on his lawn with "Free" signs on them. He has managed to populate our neighborhood with those signs.
After an hour and a half, with frozen toes and noses and fingers numb from holding our signs, Andrea and I went for hot drinks at the Bagelry, then she drove me home on the still unplowed streets of my neighborhood. I reflected on how our momentary discomfort from standing in the snow was so easily remedied; how we have warm homes to return to, free of the fear and uncertainty which must accompany daily life in Gaza.
Momentary peace has come to Gaza. Not even peace, really, but a cessation of the massive military assault by the Israelis. If you view the images of destruction in Gaza, including schools, hospitals, homes and mosques, you know that peace will not return to Gaza any time soon. Perhaps, in a generation, or more likely two generations, peace might return. But those families whose lives have been devastated by the deaths of loved ones and the loss of their homes, will be unlikely to find peace in a week-long ceasefire.
I would like to hear our government speak with one voice to support the end of the violence between Israel and Palestine. We cannot take either side in this conflict, in my view, and to that end, our heavy financial support of the Israeli military machine must stop. It is not how I want my tax dollars spent. Now is the time to modify our policy, and it is already too late for 1100 Palestinians, most of whom were civilians. It is time for change, both here and in the Middle East.
My phone rang about 5 minutes before the scheduled vigil, and it was Andrea, saying she was about to leave her house and drive to Durham. Well, what am I, a fair-weather vigiller? (vigilante?) I said, o.k., I'll walk into town and meet you there. I donned snow pants, two layers of socks, my new warm Ugg-type boots, jacket, scarf, hat and new, waterproof ski gloves, grabbed a waterproof sign from the basement which says "War is unhealthy for children and other growing things" and walked on into town on unplowed roads, with about 10 inches of snow on the ground and still coming down hard.
Much to my surprise and delight, there was a good turnout of people holding signs calling for peace in Gaza, including one of my former Poetry & Fiction students who told me how much he had loved my class. That always makes me feel good, and doubly good that he is now a peace activist with the UNH Peace and Justice League. Today's event was organized by them and the Students for a Democratic Society at Oyster River High, so of course, I saw some kids from there whom I also know.
One of the great things about today's vigil was the fact that there was a Palestinian man there with his children and an Egyptian man with his children. Just talking with them was an interesting experience. There were some other regular vigilers who are often in Portsmouth on a Friday night, including one guy from my neighborhood who has made it his business to give away signs saying "Support the Troops, End the War," by placing them on his lawn with "Free" signs on them. He has managed to populate our neighborhood with those signs.
After an hour and a half, with frozen toes and noses and fingers numb from holding our signs, Andrea and I went for hot drinks at the Bagelry, then she drove me home on the still unplowed streets of my neighborhood. I reflected on how our momentary discomfort from standing in the snow was so easily remedied; how we have warm homes to return to, free of the fear and uncertainty which must accompany daily life in Gaza.
Momentary peace has come to Gaza. Not even peace, really, but a cessation of the massive military assault by the Israelis. If you view the images of destruction in Gaza, including schools, hospitals, homes and mosques, you know that peace will not return to Gaza any time soon. Perhaps, in a generation, or more likely two generations, peace might return. But those families whose lives have been devastated by the deaths of loved ones and the loss of their homes, will be unlikely to find peace in a week-long ceasefire.
I would like to hear our government speak with one voice to support the end of the violence between Israel and Palestine. We cannot take either side in this conflict, in my view, and to that end, our heavy financial support of the Israeli military machine must stop. It is not how I want my tax dollars spent. Now is the time to modify our policy, and it is already too late for 1100 Palestinians, most of whom were civilians. It is time for change, both here and in the Middle East.
Of cabbages and kings
I can't believe it's January, on the cusp of the inauguration of the first African American President, and I haven't written a blog entry yet in the new year. Tonight I will remedy that situation. I have so many things to write about, it's hard to put it all into one blog entry. You may think, from the title, that this entry has something to do with cabbages and kings. Not so. The title is meant to suggest the potpourri nature of this narrative, and perhaps reveals something about the way my brain works. Or doesn't work, as the case may be.
Today was a day of remembering. And it was prompted by cleaning every last thing out of my upstairs bathroom preparatory for its demolition tomorrow. I'll bet you're wondering what sort of memories are held in bathroom cabinets......I will cite only a few small examples. First was a 25 year old (at least) tube of Mary Kay facial masque. It had basically petrified in its container. (Pink, of course, with gold lettering). That made me think of my friend Van Mosedale, who died in the mid1980s, but who invited me to a Mary Kay cosmetics party at her home sometime around 1978. For a brief time after that, I actually wore some foundation, and had both powdered rouge and some put-on-with a finger rouge. And the masque, of course. O.k., those days are over.
Next, I found a small bar of soap in cardboard packaging with Chinese writing on one side. On the other side, it said, Kunlun Hotel, Beijing. That dates to my 1988 week in Beijing where I attended an International Special Education conference. That brought back a whole host of memories, not the least of which was my major surprise at realizing that my first trip outside the continent of North America was to China. Where did that bravery come from? Of course I also thought of another friend, Elba Marrero, who turned out to be my roommate in the Kunlun Hotel. We could not be more different, but we became lifelong friends as a consequence of that trip, and the fact that we just happened to be the last two people in line to check in to the hotel that night after 26 hours of traveling.
Later, I found a small box of matches from Rigsby's Restaurant in Columbus Ohio, a place where Sarah and I had dinner one weekend when I visited her while she was in grad school. I remember how much I looked forward to those weekends, some of which included a chance to see her perform. One weekend, I couldn't fly home because Logan was shut down because of a snowstorm much like the one we experienced today. Needless to say, I was not unhappy to have to stay one more day in Columbus!
Another matchbook came from Obrycki's Crab House in Baltimore Maryland, a place where you get to sit at tables covered with brown paper and use wooden mallets to whack away at some special kind of crab native to the area. This made me think of my friends Donna Barnes and Karen Weinhold, with whom I shared this crab experience and many other great NCTE conferences in Denver, Detroit, New York, and Atlanta. We have just been emailing about dinner together a week from Monday!
Of course i threw out massive amounts of xeroform and ouchless bandages and gauze pads which reminded me of my nose reconstruction after skin cancer surgery; and there were numerous poison ivy remedies which reminded me of some pretty bad cases of that lovely irritant. And there were male-type razors and some other items to which I said good riddance as I thought of my unmentionable exhusband. Some readers will be happy to know that I threw out anything past its expiration date (which was just about everything).
Finally, as I picked up the toilet brush, I lifted the abalone shell which is its receptacle. I scrubbed it up, and really, it's so beautiful, I don't know why I don't use it for something other than a toilet brush! It came from the beach in my southern California childhood home, and it took me right back there, even though, if I looked out the window, I could see the snow falling at a great rate, a far cry from the average sunny day in Carpinteria, California.
So, as the nation prepares for a new beginning which will, hopefully, take us back to being a nation ruled by law, with compassion and empathy for others, I prepare for a new bathroom, one which will remind me of the beach on a foggy day.....complete with an abalone shell, and minus one giant trashbag full of the stuff of life gone by.
Today was a day of remembering. And it was prompted by cleaning every last thing out of my upstairs bathroom preparatory for its demolition tomorrow. I'll bet you're wondering what sort of memories are held in bathroom cabinets......I will cite only a few small examples. First was a 25 year old (at least) tube of Mary Kay facial masque. It had basically petrified in its container. (Pink, of course, with gold lettering). That made me think of my friend Van Mosedale, who died in the mid1980s, but who invited me to a Mary Kay cosmetics party at her home sometime around 1978. For a brief time after that, I actually wore some foundation, and had both powdered rouge and some put-on-with a finger rouge. And the masque, of course. O.k., those days are over.
Next, I found a small bar of soap in cardboard packaging with Chinese writing on one side. On the other side, it said, Kunlun Hotel, Beijing. That dates to my 1988 week in Beijing where I attended an International Special Education conference. That brought back a whole host of memories, not the least of which was my major surprise at realizing that my first trip outside the continent of North America was to China. Where did that bravery come from? Of course I also thought of another friend, Elba Marrero, who turned out to be my roommate in the Kunlun Hotel. We could not be more different, but we became lifelong friends as a consequence of that trip, and the fact that we just happened to be the last two people in line to check in to the hotel that night after 26 hours of traveling.
Later, I found a small box of matches from Rigsby's Restaurant in Columbus Ohio, a place where Sarah and I had dinner one weekend when I visited her while she was in grad school. I remember how much I looked forward to those weekends, some of which included a chance to see her perform. One weekend, I couldn't fly home because Logan was shut down because of a snowstorm much like the one we experienced today. Needless to say, I was not unhappy to have to stay one more day in Columbus!
Another matchbook came from Obrycki's Crab House in Baltimore Maryland, a place where you get to sit at tables covered with brown paper and use wooden mallets to whack away at some special kind of crab native to the area. This made me think of my friends Donna Barnes and Karen Weinhold, with whom I shared this crab experience and many other great NCTE conferences in Denver, Detroit, New York, and Atlanta. We have just been emailing about dinner together a week from Monday!
Of course i threw out massive amounts of xeroform and ouchless bandages and gauze pads which reminded me of my nose reconstruction after skin cancer surgery; and there were numerous poison ivy remedies which reminded me of some pretty bad cases of that lovely irritant. And there were male-type razors and some other items to which I said good riddance as I thought of my unmentionable exhusband. Some readers will be happy to know that I threw out anything past its expiration date (which was just about everything).
Finally, as I picked up the toilet brush, I lifted the abalone shell which is its receptacle. I scrubbed it up, and really, it's so beautiful, I don't know why I don't use it for something other than a toilet brush! It came from the beach in my southern California childhood home, and it took me right back there, even though, if I looked out the window, I could see the snow falling at a great rate, a far cry from the average sunny day in Carpinteria, California.
So, as the nation prepares for a new beginning which will, hopefully, take us back to being a nation ruled by law, with compassion and empathy for others, I prepare for a new bathroom, one which will remind me of the beach on a foggy day.....complete with an abalone shell, and minus one giant trashbag full of the stuff of life gone by.
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