Project 99% Complete

At long last, after four months of solid work by my husband, the rental property I inherited from my mother in 2001 is ready to rent. Not only that, we think we have found someone who wants it, a process which took less time than I imagined. A lot of people are looking for a place to live.

I never imagined myself a landlord and this is not a coveted title, but four words in my mother's will has me pretty much unable to do anything with this property other than rent it. Kind of amazing, the power of four words, isn't it?

Here are some before and after photos: This is a bedroom (or just a room).
Before:

After:


This is what the kitchen looked like before:


This is what it looks like now. We still have to put in a stove, which will happen this week:



This is the hallway/furnace room before:
This is what it looks like now:


And so on and so forth. This is the work we did: new floors all over, new paint or new paneling everywhere, new toilets in both bathrooms, new shower heads, new plumbing, new vanities in the bathrooms, new light fixtures, new ceiling fans, new shelving in the kitchen cabinets, new hardware on the kitchen cabinets, one new window, part of a new wall, new ceiling tile in the kitchen/great room, new propane furnace, and an enormous amount of cleaning.

We had to take out a loan to do all of this work and spent thousands, not counting my husband's labor. It was an enormous effort by my husband to get the place clean and remodeled - he worked on it until 9:30 at night for many nights (because of course he also had to work his THREE other jobs).

Because I have bad allergies and asthma, I could not help much (I am allergic to dust and cats, and the previous tenants (who I also inherited along with the house) had cats and apparently had no idea what a vacuum cleaner was, plus I'm allergic to paint, so I am pretty much useless in a renovation project).

Anyway, the house is three bedrooms, a great room/kitchen, two baths, and an attic loft room. It is 1,500+ square feet. On the exterior it's aluminum siding, with a front porch. It is an old farmhouse that has been reworked, is what it is. It was built in the very early 1900s and the structural craftsmanship in the older part of the house is about 100 times better than what was added on in the 1970s.

This is what it looks like on the exterior (this is an old shot but we didn't make many changes outside):



When we have someone settled in the place, it will be a real load off our minds and quite a relief. I know some people would like this kind of thing, but it has been a trial for us, probably in part because it was thrust upon us. But that is another really long story.

Writer Kurt Vonnegut dies at 84

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/6547399.stm

One of the outstanding figures of modern US literature, Kurt Vonnegut, has died aged 84 in New York.

He became a cult figure among students in the 1960s and 1970s with his classics of US counterculture. He wrote plays, essays and short fiction.

The defining moment of his life was the firebombing of Dresden, in Germany, by allied forces in 1945 - an event he witnessed as a young prisoner of war.

His experience was the basis of his best-known work, Slaughterhouse Five.

It was published in 1969 against the backdrop of the war in Vietnam, racial unrest and cultural and social upheaval in the United States.

****

Thursday Thirteen

1. Today
2. I
3. Can't
4. Think
5. Of
6. Anything
7. To
8. Write
9. That
10. Has
11. Any
12. Real
13. Meaning

Mid-Week

Spring.

Photoshopped in MS Picture-It

It is raining very hard. I just got in from a budget hearing. No one spoke, well, except for school board members. The public? Eh. They could care less how their tax dollars get spent, so long as their tax rate doesn't go up much.

The rain should help with the pollen; actually, the freeze might have helped with the pollen a little. I like spring and fall the best of the seasons and I suffer through them both with my horrid allergies. I certainly don't like it when the fruit trees freeze and lose their fruit. I'll suffer through sneezes in spring for peaches in August, sure enough.

Happy Easter

I have no memory of a "first Easter" in my childhood, but I do know it was around Easter time when I learned the truth of the childhood myths perpetuated by parents.

My chores at the tender age of five (I know my because of where we lived when this happened, and we moved when I was five), consisted of washing the dishes while standing on a chair, vacuuming (which I recall finding difficult), and dusting everything within reach. My mother dusted the upper shelves.

Apparently I had graduated to dusting everything via climbing upon chairs, because on this day I was dusting upper shelving. I had recently lost a tooth, and my tongue played constantly with the new hole in my mouth. I broke the baby tooth out by falling upon the stoop on my grandmother's carport while I was shaking out a baby blanket for my doll. I stepped on a corner of the blanket and proceeded to pull it out from under myself, falling face forward. My tooth took the brunt of the fall.

(As a consequence of this, I stopped playing with dolls.)

After a trip to the dentist, the tooth fairy visited me at night and left me an entire Kennedy half dollar (which I still have). This was a small fortune for me in 1968 and also an unusual coin for our household, or so I thought.

So it was that near Easter, maybe even Easter weekend, I was dusting a new place I had not dusted before, for whatever reason. As I dusted, I came across a dish filled with a treasure of Kennedy half dollars. I remember standing on the chair and pushing the coins around with my chubby little finger, looking at the great number of them.

I am given to incremental leaps of logic and thought, so much so that I can get from A to Z without a clue how I got there and nevertheless be right (and sometimes quite wrong, too). In one of those leaps, I immediately connected the coin to the tooth fairy.

I remember my mother coming into the room as I stood holding the dish. I asked her if the coin beneath my pillow came from this dish. She hesitated, and I knew the truth. There was no tooth fairy, and I said as much. "You're the tooth fairy," I remember saying. Not accusingly, just knowingly.

Then in another great leap of thought, I made the connection that if there was no tooth fairy, there was no Easter bunny. And also no Santa.

I told this to my mother also, who did not deny that I had discovered the secrets of these mythical benefactors. So from the age of five onward, I did not believe in things I could not see, knowing there were generally explanations to which I was not privy.

I did, however, assist my parents in perpetuating the secret with my younger brother, so much so that I think he was nearly in his teens before he realized there was no Peter Rabbit. I remember his tears as he accused me, somewhat angrily, of lying to him. It seemed my hiding the truth from him bothered him more than the fact that our parents did the same.

This is not a holiday I celebrate anymore with chocolate or mythical bunnies. I celebrate it with thoughtfulness and prayer and dinner with family. I remember the reason for the celebration - those being, for me, Christ is risen and the rebirth of the earth as spring begins the renewal process anew.

Somewhere inside of me, I think, a child longs for that magic, that time of wonder and belief. I hope that this year I can renew that childish spirit, and make her soar.

Books: Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Caedmon Audio
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. Audio Collection
Performed by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Features selections from: Slaughterhouse Five, Welcome to the Monkey House, Breakfast of Champions, Cat's Cradle.

A friend mentioned something to me about Vonnegut and I thought I had not read anything by him, having somehow skipped him, but I was wrong.

After checking out this audio tape from the library, I realized I was indeed familiar with his work. I just hadn't read it in about 25 years and had forgotten.

Hearing the words in the author's voice is quite interesting. In these selections, Vonnegut even sings tunes fo the listener.

I liked Welcome to the Monkey House best, I think.

I enjoy these commentaries disguised as SF. They are as true today as when written, if a little dated. Very Ray Bradbury-ish, too.

4.5 stars

Books: Rococo by Adriana Trigiani

Audio Book: Read by Mario Cantone

Adriana Trigiani gives an entertaining read in this book, which is NOT a Big Stone Gap book.

This story is set in New Jersy and tells the story of Bartolomeo di Crespi (aka "B"). B is a bachelor and interior designer who desperately wants to renovate the Catholic Church, Our Lady of Fatima, in his community. He comes from a large Italian family (lots of cousins and nephews) and has an older sister named "Toots" who cares for him. Their role eventually swaps during the novel and B. comes into his own, mostly because Toots has an affair with her ex!

B. also has a platonic fiance' who eventually marries someone else. He meets up with an international designer named Eddie who sparks him, but B. is ultimately in love with his work, not women.

This novel is more character-driven than plot-driven, and certainly nothing greatly eventful happens, but this is an entertaining glimpse into families and relationships and humanity overall.

Not quite as intriguing to me as the Big Stone Gap novels, but that could be simply because those books remind me so much of home.

3.5 stars

Thursday Thirteen

1. The moon last night was nearly blood red when I looked out the kitchen window about 8:45 p.m. I could see it through the trees and it looked quite ghostly.

2. I have an Audubon society book for the southeastern states that I refer to quite frequently. Every year I have to look up the wildflowers because I can never remember what they are.

3. I also have a book on wildflowers by Leonard Atkins called "Wildflowers of the Appalachian Trail." Atkins lives in my county and I have met him. Of course I did an article on him.

4. My mother loved wildflowers and she and a friend would walk the woods every spring and into the summer in search of unique or unusual wildflowers.

5. She could identify jack-in-the-pulpit, chicory, and floating bladderwort on site.

6. I never have been able to do that but I've also never applied myself to learning the names of the wildflowers.

7. One year in April I called Mom and asked her to come and walk with me to the back of the farm to see a patch of wildflowers.

8. The woods were full of trillium, which apparently is native to the area but not common. My mother was ecstatic at the find and I remember she was quite childlike in her delight of the flower.

9. The following year Mom was too ill to visit the trillium patch, so I walked there with my friend B., who's mother had just passed away.

10. We stood in silence a long time looking at the wildflowers, each thinking, I suppose, different thoughts of our mothers, hers having just passed away and mine not far from following.

11. I cannot visit the trillium now without thinking of my mother, who died a few months later, and my friend.

12. We are forever bound by the deaths of our mothers in the same year.

13. We're also bound by the wildflowers, my mother and B. and me.

Reposed Thoughts

Yesterday I interviewed a couple who ditched their lives in northern/eastern VA and moved here. They bought an old (very large) house and are embarking upon a restaurant/B&B adventure.

They are 43 years old. They called this their "retirement".

He has retired from a police force; she used to be in marketing. They travel to Europe two or three times a year and also across the US.

I always wonder how people can manage to do these things. Where do they get their money? Did their old house sell for millions?

Police officers do not make that kind of money, unless other cities do better than Roanoke. Roanoke's retirement packages might keep you afloat but you're not going to move forward with it.

Maybe marketing pays better than freelancing for newspapers?

When we take vacation, my husband farms and uses the time to plow or rake hay or do whatever needs doing; I just keep working on writing work. I might take a day for spring cleaning, but I don't think that really counts as recreation.

We do not go to Europe. We're lucky if we make it to Myrtle Beach for a weekend.

Is this envy? No, more like curiousity. I just want to know how it's done.

Spring

The trees are turning green.

The hyacinths are blooming

The turkeys are enjoying the greening grass.

The redbuds are in full color.

The dogwoods are showing off their white petticoats.

The Hard Choices

The problem is, no one will make the hard choices.

I was thinking about this in relation to the electic company and the news yesterday that instead of a 25 percent increase for Appalachian Power, one SCC member is recommending a 3.9 percent increase.

This SCC member has looked at the greater good (and thousands of letters from an irate public) and determined that big business doesn't need to be massively profitable.

Government can step in and control things. It could take away the excessive monies CEOs make, for instance. But government has chosen instead to take monies from those who make less and give it to the wealthy because they then make jobs. Supposedly this trickle-down economics works, but there is a growing disparity between the rich and poor in the United States.

This is not new news; the gap has been increasing marginally for years but has grown since the new millinum. I can't find where I read it, but an article I read earlier this week indicates the disparity has now reached 1920s levels and is close to what it was before the Great Depression.

In the 1940s, we had a great war. Roosevelt made some hard choices. People today, except the old folks who are nearly gone, have no idea what went on during World War II. People rationed and sacrified.

To give you an idea of how much they sacrificed and worked, I will tell you several things. Most of this comes from my husband's grandmother, who is now deceased. Some of it I looked up (in books, remember those?).

They had a hog farm here in Botetourt and during the war, the farm was mobilized for food production for the army. This was mandated and ordered by the government, not a choice. They had to produce food and the government bought it. All of their hams and corn and everything else went to feed the soldiers.

The government also stopped production of retail vehicles, etc., and the companies turned to making whatever the army needed. Soldiers were not going without the proper armor for lack of trying.

At this time, there wasn't synthetic rubber, so tires and other rubber products were severely rationed. Only medical personnel or other specific industries could get tires. The average person could not get a tire, and if a tire became slick, the car owner went before a board to ask for a retreading.

Could you imagine that happening today?

There was also a rubber drive and on average, every American donated about 7 pounds of rubber back to the government.

The government began rationing gas on the eastern seaboard on 15 May 1942. Drivers generally were granted five gallons of gas a week, unless they were doctors making rounds or something like that.

There were also ration books. A family got 48 points a month to spend on any combination of goods, including food and clothing. The president urged everyone to plant a Victory garden, and most people did.

The price of food and other necessary goods was kept in check by strict governmental controls. Price gouging was not allowed.

My husband's grandmother toiled along with the rest of the family to produce food for the soldiers. She was Rosie the Riveteer except on the farm. They were compensated for it at rates set by the government. Food prices were among those specifically stabilized by the government.

Roosevelt raised taxes and set limits on personal wealth. No individual could make more than $25,000 (which was a lot of money back then). Corporations could make so much and then the government took everything else. The tax rate on some people and corporations went as high as 95 percent.

I am not saying I want to go back to those days. I'm just pointing out that no one in government at this time, regardless of party, is prepared to come right out and ask anyone - or any corporation - to sacrifice. Not like that.

The truth is some sacrifice has been forced via stealth upon the lower and middle class while the upper classes continue to thrive. But it is not to support the war, it is to support the large corporations and the upper class. That's why there is such an income disparity.

Political leaders, regardless of party, aren't going to make hard choices. They're a bunch of wimps who would allow the vast majority to suffer because they don't want to give up their fancy dinners in Las Vegas.

The greater good is a concept so far removed from them that it may as well not exist. For that reason, I applaud the SCC hearing examiner who had the courage to stand up to a big corporation and say, essentially, you don't need to be making so much money. Now we'll see if the rest of the SCC board has courage, too.

For the last several weeks, I have been watching reruns of Buffy, The Vampire Slayer on FX while I lift weights and lunge and ride the exercise bike.

Every morning I have seen this Cesar commercial during the show. Those dogs are so cute! And the guitar plunking that goes with it is trapped in my brain! Somebody make it stop!

I have been watching Buffy because I only saw up through I guess season four. I really liked the show and the characters. When the show moved from WB to UPN, I couldn't get the channel and so I missed three seasons. I don't know how it ended. Then I realized a few weeks ago that Buffy was on in reruns and in the last of its seven seasons. So I am watching to see how it all ends, even though I am a little spotty on the details, having missed two other seasons of the show.

I have the first two seasons on DVD. Maybe eventually I will get the whole series so I will have it. Something for the Christmas list, maybe.

Anyway, when season seven winds up here in two weeks, I'll be back to watching DVDs and exercising to that. Whee.

Thursday Thirteen

1. Yesterday while I was in the city, I looked up and saw a convertible with the top down.

2. I thought a very large asparagus was driving, as all I saw was what looked to me like a green asparagus spear.

3. Later, on the other side of town, a girl with black hair on top and green hair the rest of the way around her ears appeared in the parking lot at A&N.

4. Her hair looked like feathers, and not asparagus, however.

5. I decided I was seeing things and headed home!

6. Here's a neat video about one of the major problems with today's society. (It's about the news, not asparagus.)

7. The sun is shining, the trees are budding, the world is spinning on its axis. It's time for the asparagus to grow!

8. I don't really like asparagus, but I just learned it acts like a diuretic so I might have to go buy some.

9. I did a story several years ago about a woman with an asparagus farm over in Craig County. It takes years to get asparagus to form a decent and profitable crop.

10. I have absolutely no idea why I am writing about asparagus, except that the asparagus-headed person driving the convertible really caught my attention.

11. My husband doesn't like asparagus at all. I will eat it but he won't, so if I buy some, we all know in who's tummy it will go.

12. I seem to be really desperate for a new video game.

13. I don't want a game about asparagus, though.

The Storm Front

We are having a storm. It's been grumbling and rumbling all afternoon. Sometimes it sounds like someone has dumped a load of cooking pans at my back porch.

My allergies have been grumbling and rumbling for several days now. My eyes hurt and are dry, my breathing is raspy, throat scratchy, nose stuffy.

I read this morning that the allergy season is particularly bad this year on the east coast because of lack of rain. Hopefully the current storm will ease things a tad, at least for a day or so. That might be long enough for me to gather my strength for the next onslight of budding trees.

I take Singulair constantly for my allergies and this morning went ahead and added back Zyrtec. I stopped the Zyrtec last fall because I didn't seem to need it.

These are very expensive drugs and each one costs me $50 for 30 pills. And that's with insurance.

I use eyedrops for my dry and painful eyeballs. I use Nasacort for my sinuses (it costs me $50 a month, too).

But there is nothing I can do directly to help my left ear, and it is my ear which is troubling me most at the moment. I do not have vertigo as I did last year at this time, but I do have an overall sense of feeling out of balance. It disconcerts me when this happen, and storms intensify the feeling. I actually *feel* in my ear the bolts of lightning when they are close. It is rather strange.

To all my fellow allergy suffers, God Bless You for each sneeze.

Books: Tara Road

Tara Road, by Maeve Binchy

Performed by Terry Donnelly (audiobook)


I've always enjoyed Maeve Binchy's books and recommend her to anyone interested in reading about characters who live in Ireland.

Her story lines are well-done and plausible and her characterizations are very good.

This was an Oprah's Book Club pick in 2000 (which I didn't know until I just looked on Amazon.com). The first book of hers I ever read was Light a Penny Candle in 1984 and I've enjoyed her work ever since. (That book apparently has been reissued in paperback; I'll have to see if I can find a copy as I recall it being a very good book.)

Ria is a working-class girl who marries well and makes good. She and her husband buy an old home on Tara Road and fix it up. The road becomes the place to live. But her husband philanders and their marriage crumbles. An unexpected phone call leads Ria to swap her home with Marilyn Vine, who lives in New England. During the time away the many small events erupt. The climax is a little anticlamtic but the rest of the book is so good it's a forgiveable issue.

4 stars.

Spring Sunday

The birds have been heralding spring with everything their tiny little throats can muster, haven't they?

I've been outside early every morning this weekend and the sounds have been amazing. Saturday I heard the wetchoo wetchoo of a redbird and not long after it sprinkled on me. This morning that cardinal was calling out "clear clear clear" and I've no doubt I will see nothing but sun.

In the pond not far away there must be geese, because I hear them honking. Crows are making their raucus noise from the field. I hear other birds, too, a bluebird in the spruce tree.

Over in the woods, the wildflowers are coming up. I spied them yesterday morning.


(I think, but am not positive, that this is a Carolina Cranesbill flower.)

The cattle have been making lots of mooing noises this weekend, too. The whole world is full of sound - the speedy zip of cars on the road, the startling roar of a tractor, the shuffle of leaves from a squirrel running along the forest floor.

The earthy smell of spring permeates the nostrils, the bird sounds fill the ears. The greening fields are like emeralds to the eyes.

It's spring. It's good.

The Remains of the Day

The sun was trapped between the clouds and the Peaks of Otter this morning when I first looked out the window.

What could I do? I grabbed the camera and went for a walk around the yard and the field beside the house.

This is all that remains of the cabin. My husband and his friend began building this when they were about 10 years old - so this structure is almost 40 years old. They never finished it.

It's rotting and decaying and one day will be nothing more than a pile of mulch. My husband has fond memories of their construction efforts, though. I think it gives him a sense of connection to his past.

Thursday Thirteen

1. I spent two days watching a civil trial this week.

2. There were lots of suits and high-powered muckety-mucks there.

3. Four deputies sat through the whole thing, after frisking us all. Apparently we were very scary and needed watching.

4. The sun is shining. Feel the warmth.

5. There is a breeze. Feel the coolness and breath the fresher air.

6. I've been so busy I haven't been able to focus on anything but work. I've written 30+ articles already this month - that's more than one a day.

7. My thinking is scattered and I'm having trouble refocusing my thinking away from my work.

8. Some of my work was mentioned in the trial.

9. The word "trial" is different from "trail" but it reminded me anyway that one of my goals is to walk to McAfee's Knob.

10. That was also listed in the Extra section of the daily paper today, hiking up there.

12. I don't like the Thursday Extra section since they changed it last week and I never read the insert that used to be what is now the Extra section, either.

13. This entire entry doesn't make much sense, so thanks for reading if you made it this far.

Broth

I want to make soup,
rip the heart from some golden calf
toss its meat fat
into bubbling tomato juice
see it boil, red,
like the blood of a falling sun.
I want to make soup
with the crucifix
of the heart of the art
I choke on,
in a place where
undeserved and unserved
I eat corn, green beans – truly rare
and sacred. Part of
the bounty the earth tossed me.
It’s time to make soup.

On the Fly

The robin with the white wing
nests again in the spruce
we stole from the queer man
who lives up the street.
Stolen trees grow better
than purchased products.
The bird likes this one. Her
three eggs rest in the little
stick circle, comfortable even
in Mama's absence. She chatters
from a nearby wild cherry,
fussing at my impertience
as I peer into her home.
The eggs are brilliant
in color, larger than expected.
How can a tiny bird give
such large things, I ask
no one. As if I expect
some god to speak, offer me
stories or reasons why
the robin's eggs are blue.

A turkey of a day

While it's become pretty normal around here to see a tom turkey strutting across the field, this morning I looked up and saw an entire flock:

I grabbed the camera and a coat. It was pouring rain and so I stood with the coat hunched over my head, sheilding the camera from the rain, while I tried to take pictures.

A solitary tom bringing up the rear:



The entire flock sashaying up the hillside:



There they go, sneaking past the fence:



The big tom decided to strut his stuff for the ladies:



These guys knew they were no match for the puffed up dude at the front of the flock!

Thursday Thirteen

1. Today I lost my temper.

2. I am not a redhead.

3. I don't usually lose my temper. I am slow to anger and I try to have the patience of a saint.

4. Sometimes, I fail. Unfortunately today was a sometimes.

5. It wasn't really my fault, but I am figure it always takes two to have a disagreement, so in that respect, it was.

6. When I was younger, I would get angry but not feel it inside. Instead, I would shake uncontrollably and not know why.

7. Now I know when I am angry but I still try to keep a tight hold of my temper.

8. After I lose my temper, I feel guilty and the incident rolls around in my brain for a very long time while I try to figure out if I would have done something different.

9. The only thing I would have done differently today was maybe not have made that particular phone call.

10. It is hard to hold your tongue when you finally reach that breaking point.

11. Once when I got really angry, I turned over a big heavy picnic table. I hurt my back doing it.

12. Another time I got upset and took it out on a bouquet of roses. Petals flew everywhere.

13. But those are the only two temperamental times that really stand out in my mind. (Even today's will fade pretty quickly, as it was just a minor incident in the long scheme of life.)

Signs of Spring

The squirrels are out:

The daffodils are blooming:





My forsythia flowers are starting to make an appearance, along with the insects:

World Divinity

Sunday I lazed in the bed, trying to adjust to the time change. In an unusual move for me, I turned on the TV and caught The Secret Garden, a movie I’d never seen entirely. It’s based on the novel of the same name by Frances Hodgson Burnett and I remember it being a favorite book in my younger days.

As I watched the young girl learn to tend the earth, bringing forth plants and blossoms, my mind wandered to the divinity of nature. When the young boy, Colin, moved from his wheeled chair to his feet and took his first steps, I thought how wonderful it was that Mother Earth had nurtured this child to health.

I have long loved the meadows and forests of Botetourt County. I can remember many a time seeking shelter in the bosom of the great trees that surrounded the farm I grew up on.

In the 1960s, my grandmother would put me on her lap, her arms wrapped around me, and we would watch the birds. Robins, she always declared, meant spring was on the way. And she was right, for soon spring would be upon us, just as it is now.

As an adult on another farm, the trees around me whisper when the winds blow. I respond to their call with some unaccountable innate longing. The fields and pastures greet my vision every morning and I am pretty sure I look upon them with love.

The divinity of nature is not something much heralded in this age of asphalt, concrete and man-made time changes. We hurry to reset the clocks, to climb in the car, to make our way into the constructed stores and office buildings that shelter our lives. Who has time for trees?

In January during one of those strange warm spells, I longed for dirt and soil and purchased an herbal seed kit. I was strangely content to be sowing seeds at the wrong time of the year and now I have a little oregano, thyme and basil growing in pots in the garage. Every day I check them and water if necessary. Sometimes I just take the plastic top away to smell the earth. It is divine.

It seems we do not see the divine except on Sundays, when we go to a church building for spiritual succor. I am guilty, too, even though I try to celebrate nature every day. Stopping the world is a hard thing to do with society’s deadlines and demands.

The divinity of nature tells me it is my duty to be a good steward to what I have here. My job is to nourish my husband and the people around me. I am just one of the many keepers of a very large garden of life, one so big I cannot comprehend it.

My wish is that we all could stop for a moment every day to think about the divine around us. For me, it is in the clouds in the sky, the blueness of the mountains, the sun pouring heat and light and nourishment. The divine is there in the smile from a friend, the kiss from my spouse, the touch of a child’s hand.

It’s even there in an extra hour when the time changes. All we have to do is acknowledge it.

Dona Nobis Pacem

Efforts to promote peace are good things. On June 6, 2007, bloggers will once again show the world that they're intent on stopping the violence.

The Peace Globe promotion is the brainchild of Mimi over at MimiWrites. She and participating bloggers (including myself) put up peace globes on November 7 and December 24, 2006.

The first Peace Globe day for 2007 will be June 6 and I invite anyone interested in peace - whether it's inner peace, world peace, or a day of peace - to participate along with me and others. So far about 16 different countries and 26 U.S. states have taken part in this peace blog effort.

To read more about this and to get your own peace globe, which you can decorate any way you like, visit Mimi's website here.

I hope peace takes hold of you on this day and every other.

Saturday Hodge Podge

First, a sad little joke I ran across in my e-mail this morning:

What's the difference between northern and southern fairy tales?
Northern begins, "Once upon a time...."
Southern begins, "Y'all ain't gonna believe this . . ."

*******

I haven't had much time to blog this week. I also haven't had a lot to say that I thought was worth putting into print. My father-in-law continues to improve, but it is a long process and he is old so he will only get so well. When family members become ill it puts a strain on everyone.

*******

This week I had great interviews with women for articles that will appear in print soon.

On interview was with a female pastor in the Church of the Brethern. I was quickly reminded why I was drawn to that religion 25 years ago.

The Church of the Brethren is a pacifist church that preaches the teachings of Jesus, not the Old Testament. It teaches conservation and is pro-green movement, likely full of Democrats, and I am thinking about going back to it. First, however, I will have to buy panty hose and a skirt, as I don't think I have a thing that's fitting to wear to a church service.

I stopped attending the Brethren Church after my pastor, for reasons of his own, wouldn't marry my husband and me. Then I began attending my husband's Baptist church but I quit in May 1987 after a searing Mother's Day sermon from the new evangilical preacher informed me that I was a sinner because I worked outside the home and wasn't barefoot and pregnant. I have rarely attended a church service since.

The other interview I had was with a woman farmer and her partner (also a woman). They were a hoot and I really had a good time talking to them. While I was there I couldn't help but think how sad it is that the Virginia General Assembly's hate-mongers would pass laws that would harm these two wonderful souls simply because they found one another. I don't know if these two are lovers or not and really don't care, but the laws about deeds and ownership and who can be at the hospital bedside and such apply because they live together, regardless of what else they do.

We are governed by fools.

Both of these interviews came at a time when I really needed to be out and about and doing something. They affirmed my belief in life, women, and community. Through these interviews I am able to remember that people are good, kind and caring and that loving and giving are never bad things.

Father-in-law is home with an oxygen tank and diet and exercise instructions.

In-Law Update

Father-in-law is still in the hospital but not in danger.

Book: Milk Glass Moon

Milk Glass Moon, by Adriana Trigiani (Audio Book, read by the author)

I finished up Milk Glass Moon in the car on the way to and from the hospital over the last several days.

This book is set in Big Stone Gap, Virginia and in Italy and New York. It brings all the well-known characters back from the previous Big Stone Gap books.

I really enjoy Trigiani's reading of her work. She sounds very much like home, which, of course, she is, just a little further south. This is small town and Appalachian writing at its best.

I was thrilled when my alma mater managed a mention in the book.

I won't give anything away here, but this book is one I would probably listen to (or maybe read) again. The characters are wonderfully drawn and the circumstances all realistic. I know these people, some of them live around here, I think. If you enjoy reading about real people, you'll like Trigiani's books.

5 stars

In-Law Update #2

My father-in-law had a catherization and they were unable to do anything more for him. He has something wrong with his veins in that they are bumpy and squiggling and not smooth. I guess it is plaque build-up or something. There was a name for it but it evades me at the moment.

He is on oxygen and that seems to have put some color back into him. He will probably come home tomorrow. They plan to give him some additional medication and enroll him in cardiac therapy. Exercise apparently helps.

Everyone else is tired.

In-Law Update

Turns out my father-in-law had a mild heart attack. They are doing some kind of surgery early in the morning.

The Phone Rang

Sunday night we were readying for our winding down time, my husband and I. We'd both showered and were in our robes and house slippers. I'd just curled on the couch with a book, snuggled beside him. It was 9 p.m.

The phone rang. My father-in-law was on the floor, my mother-in-law said.

We rushed to put on our shoes and britches and dashed over to their place. They live just across the hill, not even a mile.

My father-in-law, who is 73, sat in the floor, leaning against the couch. He was crying out and clutching his chest. He had a heart attack in 1995 and has angina.

My husband, the professional firefighter and EMT, took charge, getting vital signs, asking questions. Call the ambulance, he said, even though the vitals looked okay.

Not long thereafter the aunt and uncle from just up the hill arrived. Around here everyone has a scanner and one of our cousins heard the call go out, and so called my father-in-law's sister.

My mother-in-law rode in the ambulance; we followed after we locked up the house and picked up a couple of items we thought my father-in-law might need. My husband's sister, who lives closer to the city, beat us to the hospital.

The wait in the waiting room was long and midnight came and went and daybreak was on the horizon before we got the results of some blood work back.

To make a long story short, they kept my father-in-law even though the blood work and X-rays and EKG were all negative, and he's still up there doing tests. But he seems to be alright.

The rest of us are very tired.

During the drive in and at various points during the very long night, my husband fussed about the volunteer squad that responded. They didn't do much that suited him and with the county's blessing the rescue teams now bill people's insurance companies when they respond. To my husband's mind, if you're going to pay for the service then you should get professional service, not the cats and jammers kids.

I'm just a civilian who hasn't a clue what should be done in such an emergency, so I wouldn't know if they did anything right or wrong. Neither would the majority of the citizenry, which I suppose is his point. If you're going to have to put out the money when someone responds, you should get what you pay for.

Since someone is responding, and we're a capitalistic society, then the responders have earned something. Perhaps his real complaint isn't that they're charging, but that the volunteers are currently charging the highest rate of anyone in the area.

And if they're going to charge even more than the professionals, then the professional expects them to do it right.

The Sky

Last night there was a total lunar eclipse. I wanted to see this. Starting at about 5:30 p.m. I kept peering outside. I stood in the doorway with my camera and snapped pictures as I watched the clouds move in. . . .

I have always adored the sky in all its facets. The clouds, the colors. The greatness of it and the smallness of me. Such a magnificent splash of color. . . . The next photo has been enhanced with a watercolor filter. . . .

I kept looking for the moon and did not find it until well after the eclipse was over. When I saw her, she was hanging brightly in the sky, and I overexposed the shot (as usual) but I was trying to get the clouds, for the moon was so bright she made the tops of the clouds glow.

The Coming Spring

I plant a little (very little) garden. For a long time we had a very large garden, but it was much too big for me to tend. We diligently planted it and the deer hungrily ate it, for the most part.

We gave it up in 2001, and for several years we had no garden.

Then four years ago we got a small satellite dish and could remove the large C-band dish from the side of the house. We had kept the ground beneath the large dish mulched and barren so we wouldn't have to mow beneath it. When we finally hauled the large C-band dish to the shed, I decided to turn this barren earth into a very small garden plot.

So for several years now we've planted tomatoes, peppers and squash in this small plot of earth. It amazes me what we can grow in this tiny little patch and I've come to learn that folks who believe they need a large swath of ground for a bounty are mistaken. We have hauled more produce from this 5' x 5' spot than I ever thought possible.

In January, when the weather was abnormally warm for that time of year, I began to pine for the feel of earth in my hands. I usually buy my plants at the local nursery, but I thought I would start my own this year.

Above you see the fruits of my winter efforts. I have lots of pepper plants sunning on the picnic table today (looking a little windblown, I fear). My tomato plants have not done so well. The garage does not receive much sunlight; indeed, most of my house doesn't because of trees and the side of the hill we're on. So I think the lack of light has hindered the tomatoes, much to their detriment.

The other plants are herbs. I saw a couple of herb kits while I was purchasing seeds and on a whim I thought I'd buy them and see what happened. So I have oregano, basil, thyme, etc. coming up in these little pots. I will soon move them into a larger planter and they will decorate the deck.

We have a warm day, with too much breeze, but it feels like spring is on the way. Today I'm thanking the higher power for the hope of renewal and rebirth that this time of the year brings.

Thursday Thirteen

1. The weather people are calling for thunderstorms today.

2. I have to go to Craig County, which is a 45 minute drive. I have to drive through the Catawba Valley and not go over the mountain because I can't drive over mountains.

3. Thunderstorms sometimes cause the problem with my ear and my balance to get out of whack. I can't drive when that happens. That is also why I can't drive over mountains.

4. I am afraid I am going to leave here and not be able to get back home.

5. I have no cell phone service in Craig County, either, so if I have to pull off on the side of the road, I am stuck.

6. I worry a lot about things that never happen.

7. I saw my doctor yesterday and my blood pressure was up.

8. I don't normally have white coat syndrome.

9. The white coats don't know what to do about my ear issue, either.

10. I don't like to drive at night. Or in the rain. Or in the snow.

11. I used to like doing all of that, but I am over 40 now. I apparently have peaked.

12. I forgot it was Thursday until just a few minutes ago.

13. That means once again I didn't really think about this post, and I apologize for that.

Book: Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, by Jonathan Safran Foer, 2006.

This novel has received tons of accolades and good reviews. Ambitious. Inventive. Funny, tender, tragic. Stunning virtuosity.

It was a New York Times bestseller.

It's about a nine-year-old boy who lost his father when the Twin Towers fell on 9/11/01. It is written in a first-person stream-of-consciousness sort of style wherein the reader spends a lot of time in the child's head. There is also a first person account from a missing and then found again grandfather and a first person narrative from a grandmother. Those seem more like letters than inner thoughts.

I hated this book. I felt like I was in the mind of a crazy person the entire time I was reading it. Oskar the nine-year-old, was totally unreliable as a narrator and this was a descent into insanity and depression at a child's level.

Had I not been reading this book for my book club, I would not have finished it. I wouldn't have read past the first 10 pages and I wouldn't have missed anything by not reading it.

I can't remember when I ever disliked a book this much.

No stars.

A Spam Poem

You must have your cookies on

Attention winner, you have been approved
but your account needs to be updated.
I looked at your pictures.
They are hot.
I have an inheritance
to invest in your country
but we were unable to process your most recent payment.
Now add this gem to your radar,
realize your manhood's full potential.
All signs show that this one is going to Explode!!
You can use it as a lovely gift;
give me a call;
Our agent will immediately commence
the release.

Pondering e-mail

I have been an AOL user since 1994. I like the interface and the ease of it. I use it for business as well as personal e-mail, using AOL's multiple name feature.

However, now AOL has put ads in the bottom of its mail, even if you're using AOL 9.0 software and not going through the Internet webmail site.

This is not acceptable for business use.

I have an nTelos account that I don't use. It uses MS Outlook. I am not very fond of MS Outlook, but I may have to go to that for business. That means I will have to spend a lot of time updating my address book and I will also have to have new business cards.

I have an account at my alma mater, Hollins University, that I could use. It wasn't set up properly and I finally last week got it functioning. However, they put my maiden name on the account without asking me. I ditched my maiden name the moment I said "I do" and never looked back. I surely did not want it on my e-mail. I thought that rather presumptious of a progressive women's college, but the tech people did fix it and I am thankful to them for that.

I also have a gmail account (obviously, since I'm using blogger) and could use that for business, but I suspect the nTelos account makes more sense.

I wish Microsoft products were a little friendlier, though.

Questions and Answers

Found this on somebody else's website and swiped it for lack of original thought today. Well, the answers are mine:

What is your name? Call me Ishmael. No, wait, that's the opening line of a book. CountryDew will do.

How old are you? Old enough to know better and young enough to enjoy doing it anyway.

Have any pets? I have 40 cows, deer, turkey, various other bird species including hawks and blue jays, and a husband.

Ever been married? Yep, for 23 years.

How tall are you? Short enough to walk under ladders in daring feats of defiance of superstition.

How much do you weigh? Nobody's business but my own.

Do anything exciting today? I caught the laundry up; for about 20 minutes there will be no clothes in the hamper.

Where are you from? The far reaches of the fantastic, the inner dimensions, and the oldest of the ages.

When is your birthday? Late spring, early June.

Can you read minds? I know exactly what you're thinking.

What is on your shirt? I have on a clean t-shirt with nothing but a pocket on it.

What color is your shirt? Gray.

Is it your favorite shirt? I love t-shirts. They are soft and cuddly and non-binding.

Where'd you buy this shirt? I can't recall.

What about your pants? I have on a robe.

And fuzzy socks. (Well, I did when I answered this, but it's taken me two days to fill this thing out.)














What kind of shoes are you wearing? Houseslippers.

When was the last time you took a shower? About 10 minutes ago.

What song are you listening to? Melissa Etheridge, "2001", on pandora.com. But often I listen to only the sound of my heart beating and the stillness of an approaching winter storm.

Are you hiding something? Only my brainwaves know for sure.

Are you plotting something? Scheming and plotting are my middle names.

Do you want to run away? I dream sometimes of moving to a quiet little town where no one knows me and I can start over. I could be anyone or no one, and maybe my eccentricities would go unheralded.

Are you hungry? No, I had dinner about two hours ago.

Are you dieting? Yes, but it isn't working because I cheat with root beer and chocolate (not at the same time, that's too much sugar all at once).

What is the weather like? It is the calm before the storm.

If you could have any power, what would it be? I would end poverty. Not sure what power that would take. But if I can't do that, I would like to be able to heal people.

Who is in your house? My husband.

What are you drinking? Water.

Do you want to/Did you go to college: I have a B.A. in English and have classes towards a Masters degree.

Fave color:: Blue.

Fave animal:: Deer.

Fave relative:: My husband, then ... hmm. That's a hard one. I know what I *should* say. But I suppose my grandmother, my aunt, my cousin.

Fave teacher:: My college English professor.

Fave school subject:: English/creative writing

-Clothes, Fashion And Such-

Fave style:: blue jeans and t-shirt

Fave trend:: There are trends?

Fave label:: Who reads the labels? Better yet, who can afford them?

Fave clothing store:: J.C. Penneys

Fave clothing brand:: Alfred Dunner. Very conservative and somewhat old fashioned but always looked presentable. Plus it generally fits.

Fave accessory:: My glasses, because I have this thing about seeing.

Fave hair accessory:: Don't wear anything in my hair.

Fave hair style:: Cut?

Fave natural hair color:: Brunette.

Fave kinda shoes:: Sneakers

Fave brand of tennis shoes:: Easy Spirit

Fave brand of cosmetics:: Cover Girl. I know, I know, I am old and should be wearing something else but everything else makes me break out.

Fave perfume/cologne:: Allergic! No perfume. Gak.

-Foods And Such-

Fave food:: Chocolate

Fave ethnic food:: Chinese? Sweet and sour shrimp.

Fave restaurant:: Bellacino's, because it is quiet.

Fave fast food place:: Long John Silver's.

Fave snack:: Trail mix with nuts, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, raisins.

Fave junk food:: Baked potato chips.

Fave dessert:: Chocolate (it's a problem).

Fave candy/sweet:: Um. Chocolate.

Fave gum flavor:: Bubble gum.

Fave drink:: Right now I drink root beer because it's caffeine free and low salt. But I really like chocolate milk, which I don't drink at all.

Fave pizza topping:: I like veggie pizza.

-Media And Such-

Fave tv show:: Right now it's Ghost Whisperer. I also watch Rome and Bill Maher on HBO.

Fave movie:: The Lord of the Rings trilogy; I also like the original Star Wars trilogy, Flash Dance, and Dirty Dancing.

Fave movie genre:: SciFi

Fave actor/actress:: Not sure I have one at the moment. I did like Orlando Bloom until I saw Kingdom of Heaven. I also like Meg Ryan.

Fave song:: American Pie by Don McClean, You Can Sleep While Drive by Melissa Etheridge, and most anything from the 1970s.

Fave music genre:: I seem partial to a mix of mellow rock instrumentation, a vocal-centric aesthetic and major key tonality (according to pandora.com). Which is mostly easy listening Pop 40, I think.

Fave artist/band:: Sheryl Crow, Melissa Etheridge, Fleetwood Mac

Fave radio station:: I listen to Q99FM in the mornings, but only because I can't find anything I like better.

Fave way to listen to music:: While I'm working and engrossed in something else.

Fave book:: I don't really have a favorite book. I read a lot and there aren't many I read a second time. I do like the Harry Potter series, though.

Fave magazine:: Don't have one. I am in the market for new magazines, though, and will take recommendations.

Fave writer:: Jane Smiley, Rowling, Janet Evanovich, Geraldine Brooks and writers I know personally, like Jeanne Larsen, Monty Leitch, Amanda Cockrell (who writes under a pen name). My favorite poet is Sharon Old.

Fave comedian:: Ellen DeGeneres.

-Entertainment And Such-

Fave mall:: Towers

Fave store in the mall:: Ram's Head Book Store

Fave game:: I like to watch women's tennis.

Fave video game:: Morrowind. But I also like puzzles.

Fave social hangout:: White Oak Tea


Fave private hangout:: My office.

Fave thing to do for fun:: Read a book or play a video game or piddle in the garden. When you get to be my age, you try to enjoy most everything you do.

Fave place to have fun:: Wherever I might be.

Next To Last

And Nobody Cares

Out of 21 affluent countries, the United States came in next to last in a report on child well-being released last week.

UNICEF, the United Nations Children’s Fund, advocates internationally for the rights of children. In a first, the report card looked only at rich countries, the ones that should be leading the way and setting the standards.

The report, entitled Report Card 7, Child Poverty in Perspective: An Overview of Child Well-being in Rich Countries, analyzed 40 separate indicators using an array of existing data.

The U.S. media has ignored this report; I’ve only seen one news item about it. That was an Associated Press story that doesn't even come up anymore in a Google search, so here's a link to a UPI International story.

Great Britain, which ranked worse than the U.S. by two-tenths of a percent, saw a furor last week in its news over the issue.

The British are taking their government to task for failing its young as well as the country’s future.

We apparently just shrug our shoulders and move on.

The Netherlands ranked number one, followed by Sweden, Denmark, Finland and Spain. We were bested also by Switzerland (6th), Italy (8th), Ireland (9th), Germany (11th), Poland (14th), the Czech Republic (15th) and Hungary (19th), among others. Hungary!

The best ranking for the U.S. was in education, where the country came in 12th out of 21. In material well-being, we came in 17th; in family and peer relationships and in behaviors and risks we ranked 20th on each, and we were dead last at 21st in health and safety.

I was raised to think that the U.S. is the best country in everything, and that means that no matter how you manipulate the stats, we ought to come out on top. We’re the wealthiest of nations with the brightest brains. We work harder and longer and take fewer vacations than anybody.

And this is all we have to show for it? We can’t even crack the top 10 for in a run-down of industrialized nations and the way they care for their kids?

The six large categories are broken down by individual questions listed in charts in the back of the report. Among those statistics, the U.S. has 21.7 percent of its children living in poverty, the largest percentage of any of the 21 countries.

In the one Associated Press report I found on this report, a federal official with the Department of Health and Human Services took issue with it because UNICEF measures poverty differently.

We think $20,650 a year is poverty level for a family of four; UNICEF believes an income of $35,000 is more appropriate. Which begs the question, why do we set the poverty bar so much lower than the rest of the world?

The number is disgraceful number any way you look at it.

Being an avid reader, I was shocked to learn that 12.2 percent of children age 15 reported having less than 10 books in their house in 2003. That too was the largest percentage in all of the countries.

That is not a lot of books. That's a Bible, a cookbook, and a couple of romance novels.

Other bad things: the U.S. has the second-highest infant mortality rate, with only Hungary faring worse. We have 22.9 percent of our children under the age of 19 dying from accidents and injuries; only New Zealand fared worse. We have 75.4 percent of our kids participating in education at the age of 15; Belgium has 93.9 percent of its children in school at that age.

We have more 15-year-olds living in single-parent families and fewer students eating their main meal with their parents than any other affluent nation.

Our teens also have more babies than any other affluent nation: 46 percent of adolescent women ages 15-19 have had a baby. No other nation comes close to that.

More bad stuff: U.S. kids don’t eat much fruit (they eat a lot in Portugal and Spain), less than half eat breakfast every morning, and a quarter of them are overweight. That last is also the highest percentage among the 21 nations; they’re quite fit in the Netherlands, where only 7.6 percent battle the bulge.

Good things? Most of the U.S. households with children have a working parent (which is good insomuch as there is income to purchase necessities). Most kids get their measles shots, DPT3 shots, and polio shots. Only 14.4 percent of our students aspire to low skilled work when they are 15; in Japan, 50.3 percent have such aspirations (“low skilled” is not defined).

About 67 percent of U.S .parents talk to their children; not as high as Hungary, where 90.2 percent do, but better than Australia, where only 51.3 percent have family discussions.

Only 7.3 percent of U.S. kids ages 11, 13, 15 are smoking cigarettes, the lowest rate of the 21 countries. But 11.6 percent of kids those ages have been drunk; still, that beats the United Kingdom’s 30.8 percent by a long shot.

Also, our kids fight and are bullied, but not much more than most countries. They also exercise 4.4 days of the week.

UNICEF, which works in 191 countries, says the report shows no relationship between child well-being and GDP per capita. Many countries without the wealth of the United States, Britain or France scored higher in the rankings.

The report indicates that the European countries are consistently taking better care of their children than we are. While no indicator can tell the whole story, this seems to point out that we’re not moving in a good direction.

If nothing else, this report shows there is a need for improvement. It’s good that our kids aren’t smoking but they’re also not eating right, for example.

Both the U.S. and Britain were in the bottom two-thirds of five of the six major categories. One of the study's researchers said in the AP article that children fared worse in the U.S. and Britain because of greater economic inequality and poor levels of public support for families.

Now what can we do to change it?

The report is online at http://unicef.org/media/files/ChildPovertyReport.pdf.

Thursday Thirteen

1. If my husband outlives me, I hope he buys a coffee pot that turns off automatically, since I won't be here to go behind him and turn the thing off.

2. I don't drink coffee and never have. I think I've had maybe 10 cups in my entire life. And those were times I drank it just to be polite.

3. My husband drinks one cup of coffee every morning. He says it helps him, ah, you know. He makes his own breakfast and his own coffee every morning. Then I go behind him and clean up his mess and turn the coffee pot off. I'm fine with that; I don't like to get up at 5 a.m. like he does.

4. Tea is the drink of choice in our household.

5. Since we both stopped using sugar, our tea is unsweetened. Except my husband uses Splenda, which I won't use because I think it is poison.

6. Since I stopped caffeine a year ago, my tea is not only unsweetened, it is also decaf. Sometimes I get desperate and reach for the honey and then it's decaf and honeyed.

7. My favorite tea is Irish breakfast tea, but I have a hard time finding the decaf kind in the grocery store. I have to buy it at the speciality tea store.

8. My husband likes Lipton tea, the orange pecoe kind.

9. I have a friend who has a website all about tea.

10. A new coffee house opened up in Fincastle; I haven't been in it yet. I hope she serves something besides coffee.

11. I started drinking tea when I was about 12 years old. My parents don't drink tea but our neighbors did. They used very tall Rubbermaid glasses that stained brown from the tea. The tea was very southern and quite sweet. I thought it wonderful.

12. After I discovered I like tea, I started drinking instant tea because that is all my mother would bring home.

13. I did not set out to write about coffee and tea, but here it is anyway.

Revelations?

Today I had an interview (for an article I am writing) with an alternative healthcare provider. I did the interview and then asked the provider if she would perform Reiki on me for just a moment so I could see how she did it.

Reiki is energy healing with your hands, for those who don't know, although it is a little more involved than that. I've had a couple of hours of instruction in how to do it and can do it a little but I am not proficient at it. I have found it beneficial in the past when I've allowed someone to do it to me, though.

I wanted to see the difference in her healing and mine and the person I used to see, since that is my only experience with Reiki.

This person told me that I could use my pen as a healing tool. I found this interesting because an online friend said the same thing to me just a couple of days ago. She told me in an instant message that I am kind to people and do more good than I could ever know. It was a nice thing to hear.

The alternative healer also said I have managed to be hidden from the world while in full view and she wondered how I managed to do that and write for the newspaper. That is easily answered - no one is more invisible - and so highly visible - than the news reporter who stands behind a notebook and/or camera and watches and records. If you don't speak people pretty soon forget you're there. People remember the history, they don't remember who writes it, but they wouldn't have it to remember without the writer.

Another curious thing was she stopped at my stomach, puzzling over the energy she felt there. The other Reiki professional whom I saw over a year ago now also found issues with that particular area of my body. I have always attributed it to my hysterectomy but I am not entirely sure that is the answer. This person said it felt like my energy just stopped at my pelvis and went no further. She said it felt empty. Not too different from what I've been told in the past, actually.

After the Reiki, I felt a little dizzy and for a couple of hours afterward I felt not quite right. Not bad, but there was an obvious shifting of my energy. I usually feel a little weird for 24 hours after acupuncture or Reiki or anything else that causes an energy shift. I cannot attribute that to the person I saw today, knowing as I do that I always experience weird things from these alternative healing efforts.

I may make an appointment to work with this person. But I have to write the article first.

Books: Still Water Saints

The latest book I've read is Still Water Saints: A Novel, by Alex Espinoza.

I give it *** stars, recommended reading if you're interested in the Latino culture and/or the spiritual, or new writers.