I love Autumn. It really is, as I get older, my favorite time of year. Crisp clear days, chilly nights and warm meals simmering in the crockpot. I loved Summer as a kid, but now it's Autumn that I love best-- EXCEPT FOR THIS
Why is every food in the world being given a "pumpkin spice" twist? (Wasn't she one of the Spice Girls?) I swear! Yesterday I was at a local Mexican place and they were serving- you guessed it- pumpkin spice margaritas in a small pumpkin. NO I did not try it. I am boycotting all things pumpkin spice that are not MEANT to be pumpkin spice, so
No Pumpkin spice lattes
No Pumpkin spice beer
No Pumpkin spice margatitas
No Pumpkin spice body spray
No Pumkin spice soaps, handwash or body lotions
No Pumpkin Spice shampoo
I will eat pumpkin pie and pumpkin bread. I am actually looking forward to baking some very soon. I can't wait for this stupid marketing trend to be OVER!
Friday, October 31, 2014
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Funerals
Funerals suck. I went to one this morning, and no matter HOW you try to spin it, call it a "Celebration of Life" or a "Home Going" it's STILL a funeral to me and it still sucks.
Funerals are for the living and I found myself today at one that was more like a Revival Meeting than a service. NOT that there is anything WRONG with revival meetings or that type of service, it's just that I was found that it did not provide me the type of release and comfort of a "traditional" service. I guess I missed the comfort of the ritual. I guess I have been to more Catholic mass funerals than anything else. I missed the ritual of turning to your neighbor and saying "Peace be with you". I lean on my Irish roots during times of grief. At Irish funerals, you are encouraged to cry. I have been told that "tears shed here speed a soul's progress to heaven." Crying relieves something deep inside and in our society it is not acceptable to grieve publicly. In Ireland, apparently, they hire "professional mourners" who cry at funerals. When my Brother-in-laws grandmother died, my sister told me I had to go, because "someone needs to cry for her" Well I went and cried and the rest of the family joined in. Seeing one person crying give you "permission" to cry, I suppose. If my family were still in Ireland, I would probably be one of those.
Is it wrong of me to say that at some point in today's service, I was critiquing the music? I know the singers were friends of my friend and her family, but the music actually hurt. I think they sound system was WAY too loud and the singers who were belting out gospel music and holding EVERY note ; not just select notes, but drawing out each word until they lost breath. I know it was in tribute and maybe I just didn't have an appreciation of the songs, but I just wanted it all to be over.
There were lots of prayers and Bible readings. One woman read an expanded version of the 23rd Psalm, which made me long for the simplicity of King David's original text as we know it . Admittedly, I don't really KNOW that what we know IS the original, but this harkens back to my longing for ritual. When it is read at Baptist funerals, for instance, the whole congregation joins in with the recitation. It is a unifying moment. I longed for "Amazing Grace" to be sung.
The very large room was filled with friends and family, a testament to the person we have all lost. I HATE the "filing past the open casket" part of any service. I wish I had been able to get out of line and slip out a back door. I hope the family did not think me being disrespectful when I did not look at her, but i DO NOT want my last memory of my friend- heck of ANYONE- to be of them in their coffin. She was a warm vibrant ALIVE woman and I will cherish her in my memory that way.
Funerals are for the living and I found myself today at one that was more like a Revival Meeting than a service. NOT that there is anything WRONG with revival meetings or that type of service, it's just that I was found that it did not provide me the type of release and comfort of a "traditional" service. I guess I missed the comfort of the ritual. I guess I have been to more Catholic mass funerals than anything else. I missed the ritual of turning to your neighbor and saying "Peace be with you". I lean on my Irish roots during times of grief. At Irish funerals, you are encouraged to cry. I have been told that "tears shed here speed a soul's progress to heaven." Crying relieves something deep inside and in our society it is not acceptable to grieve publicly. In Ireland, apparently, they hire "professional mourners" who cry at funerals. When my Brother-in-laws grandmother died, my sister told me I had to go, because "someone needs to cry for her" Well I went and cried and the rest of the family joined in. Seeing one person crying give you "permission" to cry, I suppose. If my family were still in Ireland, I would probably be one of those.
Is it wrong of me to say that at some point in today's service, I was critiquing the music? I know the singers were friends of my friend and her family, but the music actually hurt. I think they sound system was WAY too loud and the singers who were belting out gospel music and holding EVERY note ; not just select notes, but drawing out each word until they lost breath. I know it was in tribute and maybe I just didn't have an appreciation of the songs, but I just wanted it all to be over.
There were lots of prayers and Bible readings. One woman read an expanded version of the 23rd Psalm, which made me long for the simplicity of King David's original text as we know it . Admittedly, I don't really KNOW that what we know IS the original, but this harkens back to my longing for ritual. When it is read at Baptist funerals, for instance, the whole congregation joins in with the recitation. It is a unifying moment. I longed for "Amazing Grace" to be sung.
The very large room was filled with friends and family, a testament to the person we have all lost. I HATE the "filing past the open casket" part of any service. I wish I had been able to get out of line and slip out a back door. I hope the family did not think me being disrespectful when I did not look at her, but i DO NOT want my last memory of my friend- heck of ANYONE- to be of them in their coffin. She was a warm vibrant ALIVE woman and I will cherish her in my memory that way.
Monday, October 27, 2014
28 years?
Yesterday marked 28 years of working in my current job. That's TWENTY-EIGHT. add that to the ten I have in other City jobs and you get THIRTY EIGHT. Yikes. Where did the time go?
When I started THIS job, I was a 28 years old. Kate was a wish at this point, although I got pregnant with her about a week after I started this job. I was only going to stay there 5 years, fill some gaps in my resumè and move on to bigger and better things. But I stayed and I am thinking today about why.
I guess first and foremost, I like what I do. If I had designed a job that hit all my personal desire marks, I don't think I could have done a better job of it. My job allows me to help a whole LOT of people in the City, all at once. I help keep the doors open.
The job is a constant challenge. My ex called me a "paper-pusher" but that's not really it. I am a trouble-shooter, or a troublemaker if you want to view me that way. I work with some amazing people in other City departments who make me look good. I am lucky to have built such a network where I can talk to someone and get a resolution. I like to think of myself as a problem solver. Sometimes I think I am "Mom" to 72 branch libraries. I never know what I am going to hear when I pick up the phone.
I have made some incredible friends here. I cannot stress how much their friendship , support and love (yes love!) have strengthened me. I only hope that someday, somehow I can repay it all.
I have had some wonderful "adventures" in this job. The earthquakes and the Bond issues and all the branch moves have given me wonderful opportunities. I worked for a few great bosses (and one SHINING example of how NOT to be a boss). I was made to feel part of something bigger than "just a job"; libraries are a mission. My opinion was considered and often valued and I felt free to be creative in my approach to situations we had not encountered before. I am either blessed or cursed, depending on how you look at it, with a large amount of common sense. I can be a bull in a china shop about it, especially if something needs to be done quickly. I have learned more about diplomacy on this job than I ever thought possible. I have heard "diplomacy" defined as "telling someone to go to Hell in such a manner that they actually look forward to the trip." Someone from General Services called me a "pit-bull" Darn skippy! I am cute and loveable, but don't mess with my peeps!
I hope to be able to pass on my " institutional knowledge" to someone before I leave. The person who had this job before me left me three names and phone numbers. I had to hunt to get HIS, as he was still a City employee and I needed some information. One of my supervisors remarked that I had really tailored this job to who I am, and I suppose she was right. If we define ourselves by our jobs, it's going to take a while for me to disengage. It looks like I will be here another six years, unless I win the lotto or something, then ALL BETS ARE OFF!
When I started THIS job, I was a 28 years old. Kate was a wish at this point, although I got pregnant with her about a week after I started this job. I was only going to stay there 5 years, fill some gaps in my resumè and move on to bigger and better things. But I stayed and I am thinking today about why.
I guess first and foremost, I like what I do. If I had designed a job that hit all my personal desire marks, I don't think I could have done a better job of it. My job allows me to help a whole LOT of people in the City, all at once. I help keep the doors open.
The job is a constant challenge. My ex called me a "paper-pusher" but that's not really it. I am a trouble-shooter, or a troublemaker if you want to view me that way. I work with some amazing people in other City departments who make me look good. I am lucky to have built such a network where I can talk to someone and get a resolution. I like to think of myself as a problem solver. Sometimes I think I am "Mom" to 72 branch libraries. I never know what I am going to hear when I pick up the phone.
I have made some incredible friends here. I cannot stress how much their friendship , support and love (yes love!) have strengthened me. I only hope that someday, somehow I can repay it all.
I have had some wonderful "adventures" in this job. The earthquakes and the Bond issues and all the branch moves have given me wonderful opportunities. I worked for a few great bosses (and one SHINING example of how NOT to be a boss). I was made to feel part of something bigger than "just a job"; libraries are a mission. My opinion was considered and often valued and I felt free to be creative in my approach to situations we had not encountered before. I am either blessed or cursed, depending on how you look at it, with a large amount of common sense. I can be a bull in a china shop about it, especially if something needs to be done quickly. I have learned more about diplomacy on this job than I ever thought possible. I have heard "diplomacy" defined as "telling someone to go to Hell in such a manner that they actually look forward to the trip." Someone from General Services called me a "pit-bull" Darn skippy! I am cute and loveable, but don't mess with my peeps!
I hope to be able to pass on my " institutional knowledge" to someone before I leave. The person who had this job before me left me three names and phone numbers. I had to hunt to get HIS, as he was still a City employee and I needed some information. One of my supervisors remarked that I had really tailored this job to who I am, and I suppose she was right. If we define ourselves by our jobs, it's going to take a while for me to disengage. It looks like I will be here another six years, unless I win the lotto or something, then ALL BETS ARE OFF!
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Rant
I'll probably upset a few people by posting this, if they read it, but I doubt they will.
I am on the Board of my local Arts Center. Our stated mission is "Affordable Arts Education for everyone" We subsist on the fees we change for classes ( which don't actually cover the true COST of the class) and grants. The grants had helped to offset the operating costs to keep the doors open. Well, the grants dried up. We can't raise class fees and we can't seem to get the community involved in helping the Center. Please know that everyone I talk to gushes about how important the Center is to the community and what a treasure it is and blah, blah blah. Very few of them actually reach into their wallet and hand over a donation. Recently the local "new" newspaper in town printed a half baked hatchet job on the condition of the Center. Never mind the FACTS, the reporter was fed lies and half truths about things and chose to take the word of a person who had an axe to grind. Yes, I believe I know who it is and I am disappointed in this person. The reporter did not ask the Board to respond and ran with it. The poor soul probably imagined himself to be both Woodward AND Bernstein of the S-T community. We are STILL dealing with the fallout and I am shocked to see how many vultures are circling to cheer the demise of the Center. Here's MY two cents:
The Board is all volunteer. We don't get paid a dime and most of us are ponying up a good chunk of money to keep the doors open.
When you come to an event, BUY something or donate a few bucks. We had an event this weekend that the people who came to seemed to enjoy. A few people enjoyed the free snacks ( he snacks are donated by me and another Board member as part of our commitment to the Center) and the music for a mere $5, and kept coming back to the bar to get water and more snacks, but didn't even toss a dollar in the tips jar. Seriously, EVERYTHING we do is a fund raiser. This last event was a terrible disappointment and we didn't make enough to warrant the time it took us to do the event.
Non-profit doesn't mean we don't have operational costs. We do. I have hit up all my friends and co-workers to help me to raise money for the Center. I appreciate everyone who has stepped up to help- most of whom DON'T even LIVE up here. They will not be taking classes here, their kids won't go here, but the magic of the Center is alive for those who visit there.
I just don't know what to do to make the COMMUNITY understand this. Like the Joni Mitchell song says "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got till it's gone."
I am on the Board of my local Arts Center. Our stated mission is "Affordable Arts Education for everyone" We subsist on the fees we change for classes ( which don't actually cover the true COST of the class) and grants. The grants had helped to offset the operating costs to keep the doors open. Well, the grants dried up. We can't raise class fees and we can't seem to get the community involved in helping the Center. Please know that everyone I talk to gushes about how important the Center is to the community and what a treasure it is and blah, blah blah. Very few of them actually reach into their wallet and hand over a donation. Recently the local "new" newspaper in town printed a half baked hatchet job on the condition of the Center. Never mind the FACTS, the reporter was fed lies and half truths about things and chose to take the word of a person who had an axe to grind. Yes, I believe I know who it is and I am disappointed in this person. The reporter did not ask the Board to respond and ran with it. The poor soul probably imagined himself to be both Woodward AND Bernstein of the S-T community. We are STILL dealing with the fallout and I am shocked to see how many vultures are circling to cheer the demise of the Center. Here's MY two cents:
The Board is all volunteer. We don't get paid a dime and most of us are ponying up a good chunk of money to keep the doors open.
When you come to an event, BUY something or donate a few bucks. We had an event this weekend that the people who came to seemed to enjoy. A few people enjoyed the free snacks ( he snacks are donated by me and another Board member as part of our commitment to the Center) and the music for a mere $5, and kept coming back to the bar to get water and more snacks, but didn't even toss a dollar in the tips jar. Seriously, EVERYTHING we do is a fund raiser. This last event was a terrible disappointment and we didn't make enough to warrant the time it took us to do the event.
Non-profit doesn't mean we don't have operational costs. We do. I have hit up all my friends and co-workers to help me to raise money for the Center. I appreciate everyone who has stepped up to help- most of whom DON'T even LIVE up here. They will not be taking classes here, their kids won't go here, but the magic of the Center is alive for those who visit there.
I just don't know what to do to make the COMMUNITY understand this. Like the Joni Mitchell song says "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got till it's gone."
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Thoughts behind the wheel
I drive twenty miles to work every day. It takes me about an hour, so I have plenty of time to reflect on my way to and from work, If you leave at the same time, you see some of the same cars and know what they are going to do along the way. I got to thinking about it and here's my list of things that happen and annoy me on my daily commute:
Car Voted Most Likely to Cut me Off: A Mercedes or a BMW. The likelihood ramps up exponentially if the person has a USC license plate or bumper sticker.
Car Voted Most likely to ignore My blinker and squeeze past me: Prius.
Driver voted most likely to be having a discussion with the CHP or another driver on the shoulder; Thirty-something male with beard, who drives at breakneck speed and acts like he bought the road along with the car. This is not one person, there seem to be an awful lot of thirty-something males who drive like this. I call them "Testosterone Jockeys"
Most annoying bumper sticker; The "baby on Board" STICKER. Really? I understand the original intent was to warn people of possible flying object from the car when the Yuppies in the 90's wanted to declare "oooh look ! I reproduced!" but A BUMPER STICKER? Does that mean your child
1. Is Always in the car?
2. Will Always be a baby?
or
3. It refers to the driver who is a spoiled, petulant child and drives accordingly?
I hate the "Baby on Board' thing.
I wonder if I should be surprised when the same car every day races ahead of the line of cars that are merging onto another freeway, as if they just noticed that they need to get over? You're NOT that special and you don't get to cut in front of everyone else, as if the traffic laws don't apply to you. I don't let them in. I'm can be a "B" like that.
How about my wave? If I signal to get over and someone lets me in, I give them a little "thank you" wave over my shoulder. I was taught it was polite. When I let someone in, I think "where's my wave?" Mostly it's people of my vintage who do the "thank you wave". The only "Wave" I seem to get from the current generation is the kind that tells me what their I.Q is, or as I like to refer to it the "I'm Number One" salute.
Generally, I prefer driving in traffic on the week days. It's like being in a dance where everyone knows the steps and everyone knows their part. Weekend traffic is a preview to Hell. It seems these people have never BEEN in traffic before and don't know the "rules' to make it an easier commute. On the weekends, you get a lot of people who have the "I'M DRIVING HERE' attitude. There are no manners, or much less adherence to protocol, exhibited by weekend "Sunday" drivers.
Car Voted Most Likely to Cut me Off: A Mercedes or a BMW. The likelihood ramps up exponentially if the person has a USC license plate or bumper sticker.
Car Voted Most likely to ignore My blinker and squeeze past me: Prius.
Driver voted most likely to be having a discussion with the CHP or another driver on the shoulder; Thirty-something male with beard, who drives at breakneck speed and acts like he bought the road along with the car. This is not one person, there seem to be an awful lot of thirty-something males who drive like this. I call them "Testosterone Jockeys"
Most annoying bumper sticker; The "baby on Board" STICKER. Really? I understand the original intent was to warn people of possible flying object from the car when the Yuppies in the 90's wanted to declare "oooh look ! I reproduced!" but A BUMPER STICKER? Does that mean your child
1. Is Always in the car?
2. Will Always be a baby?
or
3. It refers to the driver who is a spoiled, petulant child and drives accordingly?
I hate the "Baby on Board' thing.
I wonder if I should be surprised when the same car every day races ahead of the line of cars that are merging onto another freeway, as if they just noticed that they need to get over? You're NOT that special and you don't get to cut in front of everyone else, as if the traffic laws don't apply to you. I don't let them in. I'm can be a "B" like that.
How about my wave? If I signal to get over and someone lets me in, I give them a little "thank you" wave over my shoulder. I was taught it was polite. When I let someone in, I think "where's my wave?" Mostly it's people of my vintage who do the "thank you wave". The only "Wave" I seem to get from the current generation is the kind that tells me what their I.Q is, or as I like to refer to it the "I'm Number One" salute.
Generally, I prefer driving in traffic on the week days. It's like being in a dance where everyone knows the steps and everyone knows their part. Weekend traffic is a preview to Hell. It seems these people have never BEEN in traffic before and don't know the "rules' to make it an easier commute. On the weekends, you get a lot of people who have the "I'M DRIVING HERE' attitude. There are no manners, or much less adherence to protocol, exhibited by weekend "Sunday" drivers.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Haunted Houses- and why I don't go
I see two girls are suing Universal Studios because one of their "actors" used inappropriate language toward them. humpf. Seriously, it's a FRIGHT Night, not Unicorns and rainbows night. HOWEVER. I had an unpleasant experience when my daughter and I went through a maze there once- it wasn't even Halloween.
We went to Universal for the day and decided to go through this maze thing that was related to the movie, "The Mummy". There was a small sign on it saying you could not touch the actors. That should have been enough warning to me, but I missed the subtle you-are-in-for-it inference.
It was pretty cool, with some trippy mazes, but one room was seriously disorienting and I had to help Kate out of the room. We emerged and while she was trying to get her bearings, we were accosted by an actor playing Imhotep. He menaced us and we screamed and tried to get around him. No dice. Kate was about twelve or thirteen at the time and still shaky form the effects of the spinning room. She started crying. I stepped in front of her and said "ok. You got us. Let us by." Nope. He continued to block our path. My daughter was bordering on hysterical. I got in HIS face and started yelling at him. I shoved Kate past him and shouted "GO" I whirled on him and started yelling that her should leave us alone. He continued in his antics. I was in FULL Mama Bear Mode. I believe he must have thought we were two teenagers, the mask covered his eyes quite a bit. and I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a baseball cap. I was also much more "petite" than I am now. BUT the yelling should have clued him in. I believe there is some kind of rule ( I know when the Library does them, there is) that if someone asks you to stop that you DO. Several other people asked me what happened and when I explained, agreed that was not cool. It IS a good thing I read the sign at the entrance, because I was THISCLOSE to going "All Pacas" on him. I was still spitting fire when we left the attraction. I marched over to guest relations and told them I wanted to file a complaint. The woman was surprised when I agreed to put it in writing. One of the things I suggested was that this person be given some type of retraining- even though I really wanted him busted back to "Sneeze-guard wiper". I did not ask for compensation, nor did I think this person should be fired for this. A week later, I got an apology and two free passes. The apology was enough for me. I did not go out and hire a high priced attorney to resolve the issue.
Even as a teenager, I did not enjoy the Haunted Houses that were all a rite of passage. It's not funny to me or pleasant to be frightened. I don't enjoy slasher films nor anything with creepy clowns. Clowns themselves give me the willys. Call me a chicken, but that's how it is. Halloween was never my favorite holiday, even if there WAS chocolate involved!
We went to Universal for the day and decided to go through this maze thing that was related to the movie, "The Mummy". There was a small sign on it saying you could not touch the actors. That should have been enough warning to me, but I missed the subtle you-are-in-for-it inference.
It was pretty cool, with some trippy mazes, but one room was seriously disorienting and I had to help Kate out of the room. We emerged and while she was trying to get her bearings, we were accosted by an actor playing Imhotep. He menaced us and we screamed and tried to get around him. No dice. Kate was about twelve or thirteen at the time and still shaky form the effects of the spinning room. She started crying. I stepped in front of her and said "ok. You got us. Let us by." Nope. He continued to block our path. My daughter was bordering on hysterical. I got in HIS face and started yelling at him. I shoved Kate past him and shouted "GO" I whirled on him and started yelling that her should leave us alone. He continued in his antics. I was in FULL Mama Bear Mode. I believe he must have thought we were two teenagers, the mask covered his eyes quite a bit. and I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a baseball cap. I was also much more "petite" than I am now. BUT the yelling should have clued him in. I believe there is some kind of rule ( I know when the Library does them, there is) that if someone asks you to stop that you DO. Several other people asked me what happened and when I explained, agreed that was not cool. It IS a good thing I read the sign at the entrance, because I was THISCLOSE to going "All Pacas" on him. I was still spitting fire when we left the attraction. I marched over to guest relations and told them I wanted to file a complaint. The woman was surprised when I agreed to put it in writing. One of the things I suggested was that this person be given some type of retraining- even though I really wanted him busted back to "Sneeze-guard wiper". I did not ask for compensation, nor did I think this person should be fired for this. A week later, I got an apology and two free passes. The apology was enough for me. I did not go out and hire a high priced attorney to resolve the issue.
Even as a teenager, I did not enjoy the Haunted Houses that were all a rite of passage. It's not funny to me or pleasant to be frightened. I don't enjoy slasher films nor anything with creepy clowns. Clowns themselves give me the willys. Call me a chicken, but that's how it is. Halloween was never my favorite holiday, even if there WAS chocolate involved!
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Poetry
Do people actually READ poetry anymore? I don't see a huge market for it. I enjoy going to readings, more like recitations than readings, but I wonder why people still write poetry. I write for my own enjoyment or to get out a particular emotion, but I doubt anyone would actually PAY me for any of it.
I am listening to "the Receptionist" a book about a woman who worked at the New Yorker for over 20 years as a receptionist. I think she was more a frustrated writer and her anger comes through her words, as she talks about that time. I don't think she really liked anyone she came in contact with. Maybe she just didn't like herself. I probably won't listen to too much more of the book, as she is depressing me. She talks about writers I have never heard of and am looking into so maybe I am getting something out of it. She is not very nice about any of them. I did get a book of poems by John Berryman to see if I like them. Apparently there are a whole LOT of Pulitzer Prize winning poets I have never heard of. Maybe my education is lacking.
I hate being told whom to admire in the literary world. As an English major, white and female, I am supposed to ADORE Jane Austen. Nope. If I had to pick someone, I suppose it would be Willa Cather, whose American cadence speaks to me more than a Regency era Englishwoman. I need to re-read some Willa Cather. I love "My Antonia" but it has been years since I have read anything by her. I think I will start with "A Lost Lady" which I remember as being very good.
I will continue to try to find my "lost" poetry "skills" There are a few groups of poets up here in the Foothills that I think about joining, but don't feel like they would have me until I get back up to speed. Right now, I still have the training wheels on.
I am listening to "the Receptionist" a book about a woman who worked at the New Yorker for over 20 years as a receptionist. I think she was more a frustrated writer and her anger comes through her words, as she talks about that time. I don't think she really liked anyone she came in contact with. Maybe she just didn't like herself. I probably won't listen to too much more of the book, as she is depressing me. She talks about writers I have never heard of and am looking into so maybe I am getting something out of it. She is not very nice about any of them. I did get a book of poems by John Berryman to see if I like them. Apparently there are a whole LOT of Pulitzer Prize winning poets I have never heard of. Maybe my education is lacking.
I hate being told whom to admire in the literary world. As an English major, white and female, I am supposed to ADORE Jane Austen. Nope. If I had to pick someone, I suppose it would be Willa Cather, whose American cadence speaks to me more than a Regency era Englishwoman. I need to re-read some Willa Cather. I love "My Antonia" but it has been years since I have read anything by her. I think I will start with "A Lost Lady" which I remember as being very good.
I will continue to try to find my "lost" poetry "skills" There are a few groups of poets up here in the Foothills that I think about joining, but don't feel like they would have me until I get back up to speed. Right now, I still have the training wheels on.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Good bye my friend
I called one of the maintenance yards I deal with every day, yesterday. After a brief discussion with the supervisor about the problem, he asked me "Did you hear about the trouble in the yard?" No, I answered. He told me that Pat Webster had died on Friday. Shell-shocked, I listened to details about how her daughter called the office because she couldn't reach her mother. Two of the crew went to her apartment, but Police and rescue were already there. She had died. "You knew her, didn't you?' he asked. Well DUH. I had spoken to her on a regular basis for almost 28 years. She was my lifeline to emergency repairs in the South District and over the years we chatted about children and grandchildren vacations and the news of the day. I always knew when I talked to her about the crisis du jour at some branch that she would help me to get someone out to fix it. One thing that the supervisor who told me of her passing said was " she didn't even get to her retirement" This statement was the saddest of all the things he told me. She did enjoy her job and the camaraderie of what she did, but to work and never really get to enjoy the fruits of your labor seems so unfair. I knew that life is not fair, but I still have a school-kid's version of fair and not fair rolling around in my head.
To calm myself, I turned on Pandora on my cell phone. This is the song that came on
To calm myself, I turned on Pandora on my cell phone. This is the song that came on
Oh we never know where life will take us
We know it's just a ride on the wheel
And we never know when death will shake us
And we wonder how it will feel
We know it's just a ride on the wheel
And we never know when death will shake us
And we wonder how it will feel
So goodbye my friend
I know I'll never see you again
But the time together through all the years
Will take away these tears
It's O.K. now
Goodbye my friend
I know I'll never see you again
But the time together through all the years
Will take away these tears
It's O.K. now
Goodbye my friend
I'd see a lot of things that made me crazy
And I guess I held on to you
You could've run away and left, well maybe
But it wasn't time and we both knew
And I guess I held on to you
You could've run away and left, well maybe
But it wasn't time and we both knew
So goodbye my friend
I know I'll never see you again
But the love you gave me through all the years
Will take away my tears
I'm O.K. now
Goodbye my friend
I know I'll never see you again
But the love you gave me through all the years
Will take away my tears
I'm O.K. now
Goodbye my friend
A life so fragile, a love so pure
We can't hold on but we try
We watch how quickly it disappears
And we'll never know why
We can't hold on but we try
We watch how quickly it disappears
And we'll never know why
But I'm O.K. now
Goodbye my friend
You can go now
Goodbye my friend
Goodbye my friend
You can go now
Goodbye my friend
Monday, October 20, 2014
Thanksgiving
When I was a kid, Christmas was my favorite holiday, but as an adult it became Thanksgiving. Maybe because there was less pressure to create the "perfect" day. When I was married to my first husband, we HAD to go to his family's house on Christmas Day. My family didn't matter and THAT was made plain to me early in my marriage. My family said "when we get together it IS Christmas" even though I am certain my mother would have loved to have US in her home celebrating Christmas Eve. I dreaded the "Family Christmas" at my in-laws. The tension brought on by forced cheerfulness was palpable. They were always making some snarky remark about my family, pretending to be funny. Making fun of other people is NOT funny. If you need to do that in order to feel better about yourself, I am sorry for you.
Early in my marriage, I declared Thanksgiving to be "our" holiday, the calm before the storm that Christmas was. I loved and still love cooking all the goodies that are associated with the day. It gives me time to reflect on my blessings and be truly thankful. Now, a lot of people take umbrage to the supposed origins of the holiday, but that is just another fiction dressed up as fact. For me, Thanksgiving is NOT about a supposed feast shared by the pilgrims and the locals, it is about taking a moment to realize what you have and be grateful. I love placing the huge meal on our dinner table and having it filled to capacity with friends and family.
I will NOT participate in Thanksgiving as a shopping day. It's hideous. Whatever happened to family time? I am happy that the grocery stores are open, but if they closed at , say 2 pm in order for families to get to celebrate together, that would be good too. I remember when stores were CLOSED on Thanksgiving and Christmas. When did retailers begin to think that forcing employees to work on a holiday (and I would be willing to bet in most cases for a straight wage) would improve morale among the workforce? Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like a disgruntled sales clerk working in a frenzy of shoppers who are trying to break down the door to get to the bargains. It's MADNESS. I am NOT doing it.
So, if you are not doing anything on the fourth Thursday in November and you want to join us, there is always room at the table for one more. Let me know. I'll throw another potato in the pot!
Early in my marriage, I declared Thanksgiving to be "our" holiday, the calm before the storm that Christmas was. I loved and still love cooking all the goodies that are associated with the day. It gives me time to reflect on my blessings and be truly thankful. Now, a lot of people take umbrage to the supposed origins of the holiday, but that is just another fiction dressed up as fact. For me, Thanksgiving is NOT about a supposed feast shared by the pilgrims and the locals, it is about taking a moment to realize what you have and be grateful. I love placing the huge meal on our dinner table and having it filled to capacity with friends and family.
I will NOT participate in Thanksgiving as a shopping day. It's hideous. Whatever happened to family time? I am happy that the grocery stores are open, but if they closed at , say 2 pm in order for families to get to celebrate together, that would be good too. I remember when stores were CLOSED on Thanksgiving and Christmas. When did retailers begin to think that forcing employees to work on a holiday (and I would be willing to bet in most cases for a straight wage) would improve morale among the workforce? Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like a disgruntled sales clerk working in a frenzy of shoppers who are trying to break down the door to get to the bargains. It's MADNESS. I am NOT doing it.
So, if you are not doing anything on the fourth Thursday in November and you want to join us, there is always room at the table for one more. Let me know. I'll throw another potato in the pot!
Sunday, October 19, 2014
More dreams
So last night I dreamed about eating shrimp, every counter in the kitchen and the dining room in the house I was staying in was covered with platters of shrimp in various forms. I was eating it, but not enjoying it, more the thought that I had to eat it because I had cooked it all and it was going to go bad if I didn't eat it. I looked it up in a "dream dictionary" It said:
"To see or eat shrimp in your dream suggests that you are feeling overpowered and insignificant. You feel like you want to hide from the world and be left alone for awhile."
Well, THAT'S right on. I am struggling with something I don't want to get into in print, but the result is that physically I am falling apart. Not sleeping is the worst. It's a tease. I fall SOUND asleep for an hour or so, then am WIDE awake for an hour or more. I don't want to toss and turn and wake my husband, who doesn't sleep well most nights anyway. I need to get a handle on this situation. I am trying to "let go and let God" It's not my style, certainly, but I have tried all I can. Only God can do this. I give up.
Yesetrday at the parade, I got into a little tiff with an overly zealous "Christian" pamphleteer. I put Christian in quotes, because his behavior was not following the teaching of Christ. He offered me a tract that said something about " Will this be your last parade?" I said "No thank you." I always say no thank you, I am polite. He shoved it at me and told me I needed it. I told him ( showing him the cross that I always wear) that I AM a Christian. He started yelling at me, in the middle of the street that I should take his tract and give it to someone. I told him I wasn't going to do that. Now, I ask you, is this the way to get people to listen to your message? I am much LESS interested in what you have to say if you get up in my face about it. I am not about to go around handing out pamphlets to someone else anyway. I am not a church-goer. I never found a church that "spoke" to me, but I have faith and have been leaning heavily on it these days. it was just a weird encounter in a series of bad things that happened yesterday.
So maybe today, I will hide out under the covers, read a book, watch bad television and try to get myself back on track. The last month has been stressful and I am doing my best to cope.
"To see or eat shrimp in your dream suggests that you are feeling overpowered and insignificant. You feel like you want to hide from the world and be left alone for awhile."
Well, THAT'S right on. I am struggling with something I don't want to get into in print, but the result is that physically I am falling apart. Not sleeping is the worst. It's a tease. I fall SOUND asleep for an hour or so, then am WIDE awake for an hour or more. I don't want to toss and turn and wake my husband, who doesn't sleep well most nights anyway. I need to get a handle on this situation. I am trying to "let go and let God" It's not my style, certainly, but I have tried all I can. Only God can do this. I give up.
Yesetrday at the parade, I got into a little tiff with an overly zealous "Christian" pamphleteer. I put Christian in quotes, because his behavior was not following the teaching of Christ. He offered me a tract that said something about " Will this be your last parade?" I said "No thank you." I always say no thank you, I am polite. He shoved it at me and told me I needed it. I told him ( showing him the cross that I always wear) that I AM a Christian. He started yelling at me, in the middle of the street that I should take his tract and give it to someone. I told him I wasn't going to do that. Now, I ask you, is this the way to get people to listen to your message? I am much LESS interested in what you have to say if you get up in my face about it. I am not about to go around handing out pamphlets to someone else anyway. I am not a church-goer. I never found a church that "spoke" to me, but I have faith and have been leaning heavily on it these days. it was just a weird encounter in a series of bad things that happened yesterday.
So maybe today, I will hide out under the covers, read a book, watch bad television and try to get myself back on track. The last month has been stressful and I am doing my best to cope.
Friday, October 17, 2014
Dreams
Last night I dreamed the Chris and I were staying in a hotel in Mexico. We were on the top floor, but weird things kept coming through the drains and dropping from the ceiling. There was a tiny wolf that came up the drain. At first it appeared to be wax, it was a light yellow color and about the size of a small knickknack. But when I looked at it, it came to life. I looked up "wolves" in a dream dictionary and it said it symbolizes victory, but the wolf as a puppy symbolizes a nurturing spirit. Okay. The other part of the dream was iguanas who kept dropping from the ceiling. They would come through a hole that wasn't there before and would disappear after they dropped through. The dream dictionary says iguanas symbolize fear, but I think my reaction to them in the dream is more to my liking. I opened the door and shooed each of them out of the room. I like to think my subconscious is telling me that I've got this, that I can face and conquer what is bothering me. I really don't know how much I believe in the symbols in dreams and whether the agreed upon meaning is true or not. I will take it, at this point.
I was delighted beyond words this week to learn that my friends Lloyd and Debbie will be having a house built for them. These people have been through a terrible year- or two- and still maintain their faith and their willingness to help someone else. So many people have been praying for them, I am sure God or the Universe finally said "ENOUGH ALREADY I will do something nice for them!" They are getting their long cherished dream of a home of their own. I couldn't be happier if it were me. It's a three day build and I am going to go out and see what I can do to help, if anything. I want to be there for them, like they are for me.
I am heading back out to 29 this weekend. It's Pioneer Days and my daughter is taking Bobby to his first parade. He will be a month old tomorrow. Time flies, doesn't it?
I was delighted beyond words this week to learn that my friends Lloyd and Debbie will be having a house built for them. These people have been through a terrible year- or two- and still maintain their faith and their willingness to help someone else. So many people have been praying for them, I am sure God or the Universe finally said "ENOUGH ALREADY I will do something nice for them!" They are getting their long cherished dream of a home of their own. I couldn't be happier if it were me. It's a three day build and I am going to go out and see what I can do to help, if anything. I want to be there for them, like they are for me.
I am heading back out to 29 this weekend. It's Pioneer Days and my daughter is taking Bobby to his first parade. He will be a month old tomorrow. Time flies, doesn't it?
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Thursday Morning book talk!
I am procaffinating and procrastinating. I have had a hard time getting my "happy" on for work these days. Probably just a phase, as I am tired, not sleeping well and it makes me "edgy" I can't afford to be "edgy" at work. Loud noises bother me when I am like this and I work in a lively place where people make a lot of noise. I grit my teeth and try not to over-react. This too shall pass ( I like to add "like a kidney stone")
I woke up thinking about first lines from books that draw you in "Last Night I dreamed I went to Manderly again." and "Call me Ishmael" Books that have an immediate "voice to them. "The Outsiders" was one such book for me. It was the first "teen" book I read, back when the genre was not as thriving as it is now. Teens were the forgotten readers and it may be why so many teens did not read once we reached Junior High. We were force fed "classic" literature, which ( and I can say this, I have a degree in English) was downright BORING. Recently I discovered a mash up of Jane Austen called "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" Not THAT is something I could get my teeth into. Instead of being the simpering fortune hunting girls, the Sisters Bennet are..... NINJAS, well sort of ninjas, they are trained in the shaolin form of martial arts and are deadly and somewhat crass. I liked Lizzie MUCH better. Can I admit to NOT being an Austenite? Sorry, she always left me cold. I listened to the book on tape. I am in the car a lot. I am still "reading" the Stephanie Plum series. I really prefer Ranger and I wonder if the author is steering Stephanie toward him. Joe Morelli loves the idea of Stephanie, but he doesn't know her at all. Ranger understands her and trusts her on a much better emotional level. Joe want to turn her into a "cupcake" his "little wife"- NOT that there is anything wrong with choosing to be a homemaker, if YOU choose it. He seems to expect her to give up her job and her life to be married to him. It's like the old WWI song says "How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm, after they've seen Par-ree?" I doubt she would be happy trying to be the domestic goddess her mother is. Stephanie's idea of fine dining is a peanut-butter and olive sandwich ( What is it about fictional detectives and peanut-butter sandwiches? Kinsey Milhone makes peanut-butter and pickle sandwiches!) I hope she doesn't "Settle" for what everyone expects of her and that she follows her heart. Unlike the Kinsey series, which is thankfully wheezing to an end, these are numbered and may go on until Steph gets a walker. I stopped reading the Kinsey series when I realized what a judgmental pig Kinsey has become. Every woman has some flaw that she needs to point out ( mostly she fat-shames) and every man is either old and balding or wants to jump her bones. I don't like what Henry has become either. I don't like the people in these books, so why would I "hang out" with them?
I woke up thinking about first lines from books that draw you in "Last Night I dreamed I went to Manderly again." and "Call me Ishmael" Books that have an immediate "voice to them. "The Outsiders" was one such book for me. It was the first "teen" book I read, back when the genre was not as thriving as it is now. Teens were the forgotten readers and it may be why so many teens did not read once we reached Junior High. We were force fed "classic" literature, which ( and I can say this, I have a degree in English) was downright BORING. Recently I discovered a mash up of Jane Austen called "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" Not THAT is something I could get my teeth into. Instead of being the simpering fortune hunting girls, the Sisters Bennet are..... NINJAS, well sort of ninjas, they are trained in the shaolin form of martial arts and are deadly and somewhat crass. I liked Lizzie MUCH better. Can I admit to NOT being an Austenite? Sorry, she always left me cold. I listened to the book on tape. I am in the car a lot. I am still "reading" the Stephanie Plum series. I really prefer Ranger and I wonder if the author is steering Stephanie toward him. Joe Morelli loves the idea of Stephanie, but he doesn't know her at all. Ranger understands her and trusts her on a much better emotional level. Joe want to turn her into a "cupcake" his "little wife"- NOT that there is anything wrong with choosing to be a homemaker, if YOU choose it. He seems to expect her to give up her job and her life to be married to him. It's like the old WWI song says "How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm, after they've seen Par-ree?" I doubt she would be happy trying to be the domestic goddess her mother is. Stephanie's idea of fine dining is a peanut-butter and olive sandwich ( What is it about fictional detectives and peanut-butter sandwiches? Kinsey Milhone makes peanut-butter and pickle sandwiches!) I hope she doesn't "Settle" for what everyone expects of her and that she follows her heart. Unlike the Kinsey series, which is thankfully wheezing to an end, these are numbered and may go on until Steph gets a walker. I stopped reading the Kinsey series when I realized what a judgmental pig Kinsey has become. Every woman has some flaw that she needs to point out ( mostly she fat-shames) and every man is either old and balding or wants to jump her bones. I don't like what Henry has become either. I don't like the people in these books, so why would I "hang out" with them?
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Old Friends
I had lunch with an old - or should I say Long TIME- friend yesterday. It's wonderful when you see someone after a long time and fall back into conversation as if no time at all had passed. We had about fifteen years of catching up to do and didn't even scratch the surface. We made plans to get together here for dinner. I love having people in our home, but looking around I realize I have a lot of rearranging to do around here. The holiday season is fast approaching too! Where did the year go?
The internet has reconnected me with so many people in my past. Sometimes, it's good to just have some sort of closure with someone, things you meant to say to them. When you get together, you realize that they cannot be part of your life anymore, they are still nice people, but you don't have the same things in common that brought you together in the first place. Sometimes you find new common ground, and sometimes the bond of the past is so strong that you become friends again in a different way; finding new territory to cover. I recently saw that a former colleague was friends with someone I had gone to college with and had worked on the literary magazine with. I tried to send a "Friend" request but she has maxed out, so I said "hello" via my friend's page and sent my former classmate a pm. I haven't heard from her and frankly don't expect to at this point. When she knew me, I was a silly nineteen year old and she was a very focused mother of one with one on the way. She had and has an incredible amount of talent and I was happy to see her star rise. It's funny, but when I watch people I know achieve success in their field, I don't feel anything but happy for them. This woman had many terrible things happen in her life, but she chose to use them as stepping stones to help her rise, not millstones to weigh her down. She's a filmmaker and maybe I should just get her films on Netflix and watch them again.
My friend invited me to go line dancing with her and when I mentioned it to Chris he said I should go. I reminded him I have fatal two left feet syndrome. I love to dance I just do it badly. A few years ago, I went to a Zyedco concert, where they had instructors teaching you the steps. The friend I went with got it right away, but I was so BAD I confused the instructor!!!! Ah well, I have fun wherever I go and whatever I do. I can laugh at myself and accept that I will never wow Baryshnikov with my dancing skills. Life is a smorgasbord, so much to sample to see if you like the taste of something new.
The internet has reconnected me with so many people in my past. Sometimes, it's good to just have some sort of closure with someone, things you meant to say to them. When you get together, you realize that they cannot be part of your life anymore, they are still nice people, but you don't have the same things in common that brought you together in the first place. Sometimes you find new common ground, and sometimes the bond of the past is so strong that you become friends again in a different way; finding new territory to cover. I recently saw that a former colleague was friends with someone I had gone to college with and had worked on the literary magazine with. I tried to send a "Friend" request but she has maxed out, so I said "hello" via my friend's page and sent my former classmate a pm. I haven't heard from her and frankly don't expect to at this point. When she knew me, I was a silly nineteen year old and she was a very focused mother of one with one on the way. She had and has an incredible amount of talent and I was happy to see her star rise. It's funny, but when I watch people I know achieve success in their field, I don't feel anything but happy for them. This woman had many terrible things happen in her life, but she chose to use them as stepping stones to help her rise, not millstones to weigh her down. She's a filmmaker and maybe I should just get her films on Netflix and watch them again.
My friend invited me to go line dancing with her and when I mentioned it to Chris he said I should go. I reminded him I have fatal two left feet syndrome. I love to dance I just do it badly. A few years ago, I went to a Zyedco concert, where they had instructors teaching you the steps. The friend I went with got it right away, but I was so BAD I confused the instructor!!!! Ah well, I have fun wherever I go and whatever I do. I can laugh at myself and accept that I will never wow Baryshnikov with my dancing skills. Life is a smorgasbord, so much to sample to see if you like the taste of something new.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Poem
I used to write more frequently. Don't know why I stopped.
Here is something I wrote yesterday.
I dreamed
we were drinking
spicy mojitos
in the early autumn evening
the air, warm and moist
the crystal glasses sparkling
like jewels between our fingers
the rum burning the back of my throat
I awoke
with your laughter
still in my ears
and your smile
burned on the inside of my eyelids.
Here is something I wrote yesterday.
I dreamed
we were drinking
spicy mojitos
in the early autumn evening
the air, warm and moist
the crystal glasses sparkling
like jewels between our fingers
the rum burning the back of my throat
I awoke
with your laughter
still in my ears
and your smile
burned on the inside of my eyelids.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Past, Present and Future
I am still out in 29 Palms and will be through the weekend. I have to go back to work on Monday. I am going to miss the kids and my little Squeaker like crazy. I know I shouldn't call him Squeaker, those sort of names seem to stick. My husband was nicknamed "Charlie Brown" by one of his cousins as a baby and a LOT of his family still call him Charlie; one cousin in particular thinks his given name is actually "Charles".
I am sitting in what I think of as my Mom's kitchen, at her dining room table, thinking about her. I have been sleeping on the roll-away bed, which as a kid was a big treat to do. It wasn't until I was an adult that I learned that this was her bed at home. That she slept in an alcove in the apartment with her mother and her stepfather. She was paying the bills, but was relegated to a bed in the hallway. It makes me sad to think of her that way. She and my dad did everything to make sure we had what they didn't. I don't think I was as grateful then as I am now.
Last night I got to spend some quality time with Bobby, as we are starting to call him, l. The kids needed to go out for a bit, so Mimi and Bobby hung out. I have forgotten how sweet it is to cuddle an infant of your chest and have them fall into that deep untroubled sleep of a newborn. Bobby is a good sleeper! He's a wonderful baby, very easygoing, so much so that the kids are already talking about another one- in TWO YEARS- but another one.
My former English teacher, Don Wulffson posted on my Facebook page something to the effect that we are never as close to God as when we hold a new baby in our arms. I have to agree. Whatever your faith or beliefs, you believe in the power of miracles when you hold a baby. In their eyes, you see all that have come before them and a glimpse into the future.
I am sitting in what I think of as my Mom's kitchen, at her dining room table, thinking about her. I have been sleeping on the roll-away bed, which as a kid was a big treat to do. It wasn't until I was an adult that I learned that this was her bed at home. That she slept in an alcove in the apartment with her mother and her stepfather. She was paying the bills, but was relegated to a bed in the hallway. It makes me sad to think of her that way. She and my dad did everything to make sure we had what they didn't. I don't think I was as grateful then as I am now.
Last night I got to spend some quality time with Bobby, as we are starting to call him, l. The kids needed to go out for a bit, so Mimi and Bobby hung out. I have forgotten how sweet it is to cuddle an infant of your chest and have them fall into that deep untroubled sleep of a newborn. Bobby is a good sleeper! He's a wonderful baby, very easygoing, so much so that the kids are already talking about another one- in TWO YEARS- but another one.
My former English teacher, Don Wulffson posted on my Facebook page something to the effect that we are never as close to God as when we hold a new baby in our arms. I have to agree. Whatever your faith or beliefs, you believe in the power of miracles when you hold a baby. In their eyes, you see all that have come before them and a glimpse into the future.
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