Bump in the Night

We were readying for bed when the phone rang.

"Something has the cows all upset. They're stampeding!" a neighbor cried. "We thought we saw a coyote or something."

Of course by the time husband put his britches on, loaded his gun and drove to the other side of the farm, whatever was prowling was gone. The cows, still nervous, eyed him warily but they were not stampeding.

He found a dead goose. A wild Canadian goose, he said, not one of the neighbor's tame ones.

This morning, with daylight, he checked the cows.

He found one dead.

We don't know what happened. We don't know if the cow was sick and died, perhaps drawing a coyote, or if it something killed her.

Perhaps it was a bear. We have bears around here sometimes.

Maybe whatever was causing a raucous last night scared the poor cow to death!

We don't know what happened, though, and the ground is so packed and dry there were no prints or signs.

Now we are short one cow. We will have to bury her, but that can't be done until the insurance people are called. Ew.

Books: Shem Creek

Shem Creek: A Low Country Tale
By
Dorothea Benton Frank
Copyright 2004

Read by Sandra Burr and Dick Hill

This book is of the romance genre, I guess. It is set in South Carolina in an area I am familiar with. That always makes a book interesting to me, if I'm familiar with the setting.

Linda Breland is a single mom from South Carolina who ended up in New Jersey, divorced with two daughters. She decides to go back to her hometown. Lindsey, her eldest, will start college but Gracie has two more years of high school. Gracie is a pistol who gets into trouble a lot and probably could use some good parenting.

Brad is the owner of a restaurant where Linda gets a job as a manager after she moves. He is in the process of divorcing when his wife dies. He brings his son home to live with him. Linda gets involved and talks to him in a way I would never to speak to a boss, but then again, I'm pretty timid.

Anyway, Linda dates other guys, including Jason Miller, Gracie's new high school teacher, who is an environmentalist. Unfortunately the book takes a dim view of people who care about the environment and paints everyone who may feel that way as a terrorist or nutcase. I wasn't particularly thrilled with that aspect of the novel (being an environmentalist myself).

Linda and Brad finally figure out they should hook up, but not before Jason Miller manages to burn down the restaurant. What hijinks, eh?

The book lacked depth but the characters were okay. Linda definitely is not a thinker and I had trouble identifying with her as the main character for that reason. She seemed shallow to me but it fit with the book.

A beach read. Neither bad nor good; it is what it is.

About the audio: I would never have guessed that was Dick Hill reading. I've always thought he was a wonderful reader but this was different from anything else I've heard him read. It wasn't bad, just different.

3 stars

A Quick Review

Today's as a gray a day as I've seen in a while, but we've had so little rain I can't complain. Every smidgen helps the fields, which makes the grass grow, which means we can make hay to winter the cows.

The afternoon storms have been easy, not as severe as they could be. I hope I don't regret writing that as the day heats up!

I bought myself a new toy for my birthday - A Quickpad Pro.

It weighs 1.5 pounds and uses 4 AA batteries. The batteries are supposed to last 50 hours. It has a screen that will handle about 16 lines of type.

It is monochrome with no backlight. The lack of a backlight is probably it's biggest failure.

I am using it at meetings. As I get older, my handwriting, already crimped and nearly illegible, has worsened. I was afraid I'd miss things in my notebook simply because I couldn't read it.

I type very quickly (my last test was 90 words a minute), so I thought this would work. I have a old laptop but its battery won't hold out for an entire meeting and it's difficult to find electrical outlets in some of the places I must go for meetings.

The Quickpad is working well for this. I save my entries on a compact flash disk and since my computer has a compact flash drive in it, I just insert, and the document pops up in Notepad. Copy and paste it into MS Word and there you go. My notes of the meeting right in front of me. No retyping, no squinting trying to make out the words.

I suspect it makes me look rather nerdy - using this little thing instead of a laptop - but I like it so I guess that's all that matters.

Thursday Thirteen

Give Me Five

1. What were you doing 5 years ago?

2002. Pretty much the same thing I am now, except for a different newspaper but with the same company.

2. Name five snacks you enjoy: Chocolate bar, Baked chips, Grapes/raisins, Popcorn, Fig Newtons

3. Name five songs you know the lyrics to: Leavin' on a Jet Plane, I Can't Help (Falling in Love With You), I Will Survive, Peaceful Easy Feelin', The Rose

4. Name five things you would do if you were a multi-millionaire: pay the bills, buy the family farm for my husband, build a public library, put my grandmother in a better nursing home, invest for my retirement.

5. Name five bad habits: biting my nails, overeating, grinding my teeth, allowing clutter to build up, procrastinating.

6. Name five things you like to do: read, blog, write articles, garden, have lunch with friends.

7. Five things you would never wear again: my wedding dress, because it burned in a fire; any long party dress; blue eye shadow; clogs; capri pants.


8. Five favorite toys: my new Quickpad, my camera, my desktop computer, my Gameboy, my husband.

9. Five favorite days of the year: June 8, November 18, December 25, Saturdays and Sundays.

10. Five favorite veggies: cucumbers, peppers, tomatoes, radishes, peas.

11. Five ways to say "I love you": I love you. Yo te amo. Hey man, is everything okay? You're my very best friend. I'm really glad I know you.

12. Five things you've read recently: The Writer magazine, The Roanoke Times, The Fincastle Herald, Ms. Elenaeous blog, Roanoke Firefighter's blog.

13. Five TV shows you've recently watched: um, I've watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer every morning while I exercise and I watch the 6 p.m. local news. That's about it.

Taken from Dayngrous Discourse and mangled.

A Bad Hair Day

A little lightning

Last night the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed.

Ka-boom! Pow. Zap.

The rain fell and we were grateful. "The millet seed will come up now," said husband happily.

The storm passed and the heavens still watered our fields. The TV, computer - all things electronic - were dead because we had them unplugged.

Wonder of wonders, we chatted for a bit about our day, our vacation plans, and the things we'd missed out in the hustle of the last hectic six months.

The world was rather quiet and I asked husband if he thought it might be OK if I played my guitar. That would be my electric Les Paul guitar.

"I don't hear it thundering," he said. He sat back in the recliner, eyes closed, listening while I spent far too much time tuning.

I played some very ancient songs - Help Me Make It Through the Night, and Leaving On A Jet Plane.

Next up was The Eagles and a bad rendition of Lyin' Eyes. I was strumming along and getting ready to switch from a "C" chord to an "A minor" and ...

Bzaapp.

The amplifier buzzed and had I not had on a guitar strap, I would have dropped my instrument. The electricity ran through the amplifier and into the guitar, where it transferred into my hands.

My left hand, with all four fingers on the strings, took the brunt of the tingling. I immediately unplugged the guitar from the amplifier and set the instrument in its stand. My husband looked up.

"There goes your amplifier," he said mildly, not realizing I'd been shocked. "The storm's back. You'd better unplug it."

It was at that point, as I sat there unmoving, trying to shake the feeling back into my hand, that he realized I'd had a jolt.

I finally got the amplifier unplugged, and not long after we went to bed. My hand, except for my thumb, had stopped tingling by the time I fell asleep, and my thumb was fine this morning.

Let that be a lesson, though - no electric guitar in the thunderstorm.

Movies: Shrek the Third

Shrek the Third
Now playing in a theater near you

We love Shrek around our house. We have sat and watched the first two Shreks numerous times.

I am sorry to say I doubt we watch the third one over and over, unless it turns out to be one of those movies that gets better on second viewing.

This Shrek was a little darker with few laughs. My husband can generally find a laugh in something long before me, but even he was disappointed in this film.

"They made one too many Shreks," he commented as the closing titles came on the screen.

The magic was missing in this film. Instead of feeling fresh and original, this seemed trite and tired. For me, from the beginning there was a plot hole big enough to drive a tractor trailer through and I had difficulty getting past that. The king was dying; the queen still lived. His daughter lived. And Shrek was named king, didn't want to be and set off in search of Arthur ... why?

Merlin made an appearance as a hippie, and could have been a wonderful character but wasn't. I felt like there were many missed opportunities in this movie and I'm rather sorry about it.

I was perfectly willing to enjoy it, and it wasn't bad but it certainly didn't blow me away.

2.5 stars

Salt and Common Sense

Yesterday I visited my grandmother in the nursing home. It has been sad to watch her decline over the last 8 months. She's gone from being able to carry on an intelligent conversation to talking to herself and not knowing her family. She is completely bedridden and cannot even feed herself.

Her birthday is tomorrow; she will be 84. So my aunt, her son, his wife, their baby daughter, and myself, showed up for a little birthday party.

I am not sure Grandma knew what was going on.

During our festivities, an aid came in with Grandma's lunch. This was late - like 2 p.m. - we thought she'd already eaten, actually, when we all arrived, because it was well past lunch.

The aid settled in to feed Grandma, but prior to that, my cousin's wife witnessed her dumping two packets of salt on Grandma's food, and said something to me about it afterward. Grandma is full of fluid and diabetic, and she didn't need the excess salt. I wish I had been witness to it but I was talking to the baby.

Grandma had complained earlier when I gave her some water that everything tasted salty. No wonder she is tasting salt, if they are dumping salt all over her food.

Common sense would tell you not to salt her food if she's full of fluid and has heart trouble. Or so I would think.

I am on a low sodium diet myself; it is not that difficult to follow. But I have noticed that these nursing homes and hospitals do not value nutrition as part of their health care. It is something they have to do and not part of health management.

They are missing out on the most essential aspect of health care. What you eat can make a big difference in how you feel.

Books: The Secret

The Secret
By Rhonda Byrne
2006
200 pages

If I were to memorize parts of this book, then go see a competent doctor or therapist and recite those parts, I am pretty sure I would walk away with a DSM IV diagnosis.

Something along the lines of "narcissism with magical thinking." And major ego problems.

Normally I would not spend much time on a book review when I will never recommend the book to a single person, but this is a dangerous philosophy.

This book could undermine society in favor of such total individualism that we all may as well simply crawl up in our homes and point guns at one another because YOU are obviously thinking improper thoughts. I am Number One and MY wants are paramount and to hell with you.

One of the best reviews of this book is available at the Chicago Reader. Don't just take my word for it. You can also check out the reviews at Amazon.com and see that I'm not alone in raising eyebrows at this gibberish.

I don't have a problem with promoting positive thinking. Sure, reframe your thought process and your internal chatter so that you're being positive and thinking happy. Yes, it does work, I do it myself.

And certainly there does seem to be a "law of attraction," of like attracting like, in many instances. But that is only one of the things at play in the world, it isn't the whole darned way things work.

This book goes way beyond the law of attraction and positive thinking. In an airplane crash, or a hurricane? You brought it on yourself by thinking improperly. You weren't being positive enough and the Universe sent you exactly what you were wishing for. So sayth the book, anyway.

It doesn't address things like birth defects. I suppose those come about from improper thinking in utero.

Molested in childhood? Alcoholic parent? Get over it, think about getting rich instead! I'll say one thing, consumerism certainly found an advocate when the pen went to the paper in this missive.

Essentially, bad things happen to you because you ask for it. If you want, you can wish and believe you will get everything you need or want by tomorrow, including health so good you never age and millions of dollars. If it doesn't happen, why, then you just didn't think about it right. Or maybe you didn't believe strongly enough or word your request properly.

The Universe will provide. This is like a religion except that it doesn't say God, it says Universe. And there's weird stuff, like, Jesus was very wealthy (monetarily was the way I took that) along with other popular historical figures who are normally associated with good works.

This book also advocates ignorance. Don't read the papers; you don't know what is going on around you. Those are bad vibes and you don't want that.

And if your husband is fat and you don't want to be fat, dump him immediately. And if your best friend is ill, get rid of her too, because that's a downer.

This is a very sick book. It makes it easy for governments to do away with welfare, for instance. Down on your luck? You're thinking wrong! It's all your fault.

You won't get any of my tax dollars because I, righteous soul that I am, am thinking properly!

Talk about blaming the victim. Sheesh.

This book keys in on the hopes and dreams of a land of desperate people. A land where everybody wants to be a millionaire and have no responsibility to their fellow man. Yeah, that's us alright.

Perhaps The Secret really is that if you are ready to do anything, no matter how atrocious, you'll be rewarded. And so long as you're thinking these good and proper thoughts, you're blameless. (As in, hypothetically, I want a million dollars, so I buy an insurance policy and off my spouse - I get what I want, so there should be no consequences).

There is some truth to this book - the positive thoughts part, anyway - and some of it is charming. But the deeper message is so scary that I plan to get my copy out of my house as soon as I can.

No stars

Thursday Thirteen

1. My husband arrived home from work this morning (he spends the night at the firestation) and said he had helpers coming to assist with the hay-making. I need to feed them all lunch. I had no bread, because we try not to eat bread as a weight-watching strategy.

2. I had to make an emergency run to the grocer for bread, sandwich meats, and cookies. You can't make hay in the rain or on an empty stomach.

3. There is an organization called bread.org that seeks to end hunger.

4. Bread is also the name of a 1970s band that I liked when I was a child. They had a mellow sound and if I hear them today (which happens infrequently) I immediately go back to my pre-teen days.

5. During the holidays I sometimes make bread from frozen bread dough.

6. I have made bread by hand a few times but the frozen bread dough is a lot easier.

7. I grew up eating white bread. Rainbow Bread was the favorite brand. Not the Rainbow Bread that has swirly colors, (which until I looked up Rainbow bread on the internet moments ago I did not know existed) but plain white bread in a rainbow-colored wrapper. I believe it was made locally and I don't think it is available anymore.

8. After we married, my husband and I ate generic white bread. Store brand, etc. It cost about 50 cents a loaf.

9. Today I bought Nature's Own wheat bread and paid $2.69 for each loaf.

10. We stopped eating bread all the time in 2005, when my husband went on the Atkin's Diet. I have since found out I don't tolerate wheat well, so it's just not a commodity we use.

11. I buy only four or five loaves of bread a year now, as opposed to the one every 10 days that we once ate.

12. Rice bread is no substitute for wheat bread. I tried it and unfortunately it was a lot like trying to eat a piece of pig iron.

13. My husband's favorite non-sandwich bread is zucchini bread. If we have an abundance of zucchini from the garden, I will make him some as a special treat. Go zucchini!

Dona Nobis Pacem - Praying for Peace

Sixty-three years ago, Operation Overlord took place. The Battle of Normandy began as Allied troops hit the beaches of Normandy, France hoping to allay the evil of Hitler's regime.

Now, with the members of that generation dying and giving way to the younger set, the lessons learned in the 20th century apparently need to be taught all over again.

The world is fraught with war, turmoil, personal indignities, violence, hatred, racism, hunger, poverty, and such a multitude of evils that one can scarcely recount them all.

Peace means more than just dropping guns. It means loving one another, caring for one another, and working together as a society to cure the injustices of the world. It means realizing the importance of each individual, each mind, each heart and extending hands in hopes of healing and comforting.

These days such efforts seem far and few between. This is a time of celebrity culture, when headlines are made by spoiled brats entering jail cells, not children being beaten or starved. How easy it is to forget things are not right in everyone's world when you're doing okay and ignoring the important stories on the inside of the newspapers.

My hope is that everyone stops for just a brief moment today and looks around. Say a prayer of thanksgiving for what you have and offer a prayer of help for the person you know who needs it most. Maybe today is the day we all reach out a hand and offer that healing touch.

Wake up, world! Pray for Peace.

*****

The Peace Globe movement was started by Mimi at Mimiwrites. It's an effort to remind everyone that each person can make a difference in the world. Visit her website so you can make your own Peace Globe and join us in making life better for all.

The smell of money

Manure. That’s the smell of money for farmers, but residents living next door sometimes don’t find it very pleasing.

The local zoning offices often receive complaints from folks living near farms who don’t want to deal with the smell of manure fertilizers. Since I cover local governments, I hear about this.

Farmers spread manure for a variety of reasons. Dairy farmers in particular need to get it out of the barn so they can go about their daily business of making sure Bossy donates her milk so you can have your cereal.

Government regulations governing milk production require frequent manure collection by dairy farmers.

The manure makes the fields flush with green. This natural fertilizer makes the topsoil better so grass can grow.

The cows then eat the grass. It’s a nice cycle.

Spreading manure saves money for farmers. Basically manure contains nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium. According to one website, spreading animal waste saves a farmer about $45 an acre.

On a large farm, that’s quite a savings.

Environmental concerns do crop up with manure spreading, but a 2000 study found that most nonfarm neighbors are not worried about that. It’s the odors that spark the phone calls to county officials.

Zoning officials seldom receives calls about pollution, but people call every spring about odor.

Farmers do not fall under state law for spreading manure until their herd reaches a certain capacity – 300 head of livestock or 20,000 chickens, for example. Farmers also can, and many do, participate in the state's Best Management Practices, which has guidelines for manure spreading.

The state advocates putting manure down in the spring, not winter, so the ground can absorb the nutrients. Manure contains bacteria and chemicals that can enter the water supply, so it a spring application is desirable. That’s because manure that’s put down on frozen ground is more likely to run off instead of sinking into the soil.

Generally speaking, farmers try not to apply manure during bad weather.

Farmers have a lot to do when the weather warms; the fields and cows don’t take care of themselves. As the weather warms, farmers gear up for the season by applying herbicides and pesticides.

Herbicides might be used to kill an entire field so a new crop can be planted. Pesticides are necessary to keep the bugs away. Farmers are either licensed to apply these chemicals, or they hire someone to do it for them.

With longer days there are crops to cut, such as winter rye, which is used for feed and straw. Ground is plowed and reseeded or seeded with a no-till drill that puts the seed in the ground without turning over the dirt.

Farmers spread other things besides manure, including man-made fertilizers and lime. These items can emit odors, too, that nonfarm residents might not find pleasant.

Orchard growers are caring for their trees, pruning and spraying for bugs, depending on what the trees need. Cows are calving, chickens are laying eggs, roosters are crowing.

It’s a noisy and sometimes smelly world on a farm.

Ain't it grand?

(Note: a little different version of this appeared in The Fincastle Herald and online at ourvalley.org).

Junebugs in Summer

So my husband and I have birthdays this month. His was yesterday.

He spent the day in a seminar at Greenfield. That wasn't fun. I gave him a pair of sneakers and an electric razor. He had just purchased a new tractor and a new cellphone for himself.

We haven't seen each other much since December. First there was the rental property renovations - my mother left me an old house and we had to fix it up after the people who were originally renting from her left it trashed when they moved last fall. My husband spent every spare hour working on that place.

Just as things were settling down, my father-in-law became ill, and my husband's spare time went into running the farm and his father's business, both by himself. My husband is also a professional firefighter, so he's been gone right much.

Add to that the fact that his parents have been needing almost constant attention, a lot of which which is coming from us, and most of that from my husband.

On top of that, I've been busy and am out a lot at nights attending meetings and things for my work. So we've been like two junebugs buzzing around the same rose, never landing long enough to rub feet.

Today was to be our day. We were going to do our darndest to be together and go to the movies.

The phone rang at 8:30 a.m.; the hot water heater in the rental property went phtts. Husband has been over there ever since (it's after 1 p.m. now) and it looks like an afternoon at the movies just ain't gonna happen.

The junebugs continue their dance.

Books: Magic Hour by Kristin Hannah

Audiobook
Magic Hour
By Kristin Hannah
2006
Read by Suzanne Toren

A defamed psychiatrist, Julia Cates, is called upon by her sister, Ellie, who was the homecoming queen and is now chief of police, to help with an abandoned child. "Alice," as they come to call the girl, seems to have been raised by wolves.

Cates is suffering from self-esteem problems because she failed to stop a client/patient from committing murder and mayhem. She was put on trial and found innocent but tried in the press. Now she has to save this little girl.

Ellie is pretty self-centered but she's redeemable.

Max is a local doctor who has traumas of his own, but he works with Julia and ultimately falls for her as they try to get the little wolf girl civilized.

There is a happy ending.

I thought I would not like this book at first, but I eventually found myself quite engrossed in the story. I was listless about the romance, but Julia's relationship with "Alice" was worth the time I spent listening to this in the car.

This is the second Hannah book I've read (or listened to); the first was Between Sisters.

3 stars

Thursday Thirteen

1. We had a storm today.

2. I stood in the doorway a long time, smelling the rain and watching it fall.

3. We have been short of rainfall this year, and I swear I could hear the ground sucking up the water as it fell.

4. I thought I could see the grass grow, too.

5. I have always liked storms.

6. As a child, I sat on the carport of my grandmother's house and watched the storms play on the mountain. Twin streaks of lightning would fly overhead. I would try to count the bolts.

7. Thunder did not seem as ominous as it does now.

8. I don't know if that is age or if storms truly have changed.

9. Thunder seems to rumble more now, and groan longer.

10. My mother used to tell me thunder was the angels at the bowling alley.

11. Lightning struck my parents' house in 1989 and set it on fire.

12. It burned almost to the ground.

13. That's a longer story for another time.

Full of Hot Air

The hot air balloon sailed over the farm early Sunday morning. I woke late - 7:30 a.m. - and I was looking out the window at the garden when I saw the balloon crossing the fields.

I think hot air balloons are pretty and I have been up in one. I took a trip in 1985, I think it was. N.H., who used to balloon around here as a hobby, took me high in the sky. I wrote an award-winning article about it. We took off in Daleville and landed in Trinity. The balloon route roughly traversed US 220 for a couple of miles.

Up in the balloon, sounds are magnified. You can easily hear people talking, dogs barking, cattle getting ready to stampede . . .

And therein lies the problem with hot air balloons and farming. They make a magnificent whooshing sound when the pilot is heating the air. This sound frightens the heck out of cattle and we have had them run through fences before, scared out of their minds.

And the hot air balloonist goes on his merry wary, heedless of the destruction his "fun" has wrought.

It costs a lot to fix a fence.

Another problem with some hot air balloonists is they tend to land wherever they want. And then the chase crew comes in with a big pick up truck and leaves deep ruts in your hay field.

We of course have had this happen. Some hot air balloonists apparently only ask permission if they get caught.

There was a story about this on WDBJ7 recently. The supervisors have decreed Greenfield a no-landing zone for the local hot air balloonist who does this as a business.

I do not know if the balloon that crossed the farm on Sunday was this person or not. It may have been a hobbyist.

Many farmers have informed the hot air ballooners that they are not welcome to land in their fields, including us. Some people, of course, have granted permission. I imagine it all depends on what you use the land for. If you're not making hay on it and it doesn't matter about ruts then it's not a problem, but all of our land is used for agriculture purposes.

Anyway, when I saw the hot air balloon on Sunday, I knew right away that the first chore on the list was check the cows.

My Favorite Font

I ran across an article on Slate today that asked writers what their favorite font was.

The only author they talked to with whom I was familiar was Andrew Vachss, and his work scares me so I don't read much of it.

He uses Courier.

I am partial to Times New Roman 12 pitch. This is not the blogger default.

This is Times New Roman.

This is Arial.

This is Courier.

This is Georgia.

This is Lucida Grande. I can't tell much difference between this and Georgia. One of these must be the blogger default.

This is Trebuchet.

This is Verdana.

This is a webdig. (These are webdings, which I didn't even know existed until just now.)

Mostly I just want what I am working on to be legible and "pretty" when it's printed. Sometimes when I am working on the screen, particularly at night when my eyes are tired, I might switch the pitch up to 14 or larger so I can see. But I don't do that very often.

I use a Microsoft Natural Keyboard and this is actually as important to me, if not more so, than the font. I need to be able to feel comfortable when I type for long stretches and a regular keyboard cramps my hand. I haven't typed on a regular keyboard in so long that I find it difficult to go back to one when I have to.

Personal Update

For those who have asked, things are little calmer here.

My father-in-law is no longer critical and seems to have turned a corner. He may get to come home soon.

My grandmother remains very ill. I am quite saddened to see her so sick. She has been declining over the last six months. She is in a lot of pain and unable to articulate what she needs. She seems to recognize people occasionally.

My husband is still working very hard but we are adjusting to the new routines.

A quarter inch of rain fell earlier and hopefully that will help the fields. The first hay cutting was a little disappointing.

Nature's Magic

Remember these pictures of the view out my window?
We went from this during our "first spring":



To this after a hard April freeze:



And now we're at this! Hurray!

Book Club Reads Poetry

My book club - the Blue Katt Book Club - met Thursday night at the Fincastle library. We used to meet at Blue Katt Art Gallery, but unfortunately it closed earlier this year. I am sad about that, as the building had great atmosphere.

This month when we met, we brought poetry, which we read aloud.

Only four of us showed, but we had a great time. Our book club has no rules and often turns into a nice hen party, and I really like that.

I brought Satan Says, by Sharon Olds. I read a number of her poems aloud. You can find some of her poems to read for yourself here.

Another member brought a book of poems by John somebody; unfortunately I didn't catch his last name except to note that it was not something I would be able to spell. He is a Minnosota professor and was featured on NPR. I liked his work and will have to try to get his name.

Our member who swore she did not like poetry was enthralled by the free verse that we shared. Apparently her efforts to appreciate poems was stalled in school, when she was forced to study iambic pentameter or something. She said she thought she might like to study a little poetry now.

This woman shared the only poem she liked, which was Annabelle Lee by Edgar Allen Poe. (This is a link to an obituary of Poe, quite an interesting read).

During the second to last stanza, my bookmate burst into tears as she read Poe's poem, and could not finish. I sat there, stunned, at the power of a poem to bring such emotion to someone who professed no love of the genre.

Thursday Thirteen

Bad Habits

1. Nail Biting

2. Chewing on plastic toothpicks

3. Eating at 3 p.m. when I'm not really hungry but "need something."

4. Eating too much and clearing my plate

5. Reading while I'm eating

6. Interrupting someone while they talk

7. Cursing (usually only when I am upset)

8. Putting off until tomorrow what I really should be doing today.

9. Procrastinating (wait, isn't that the same as number 8?)

10. Repeating myself

11. Checking to make sure the curling iron/computer/TV etc. is cut off - after I've left the house and must turn around and come back

12. Piling instead of filing

13. Talking too much

Yikes

My posts have been a little sporadic, but for a reason.

My husband's father went into the hospital over a week ago; he remains there. Not sure of the prognosis.

Last night my grandmother had a stroke and they took her from the nursing home to the hospital.

One is in Lewis Gale; the other at RMH.

On top of that, my husband has been running the farm single-handedly, as well as his father's other business.

Just a difficult month all around.

What price for "peace of mind"?

I was horrified recently by an article I read in the current edition of the Blue Ridge Business Journal. The article is not online that I could find.

Entitled "GPS will help you track lost socks, cheating spouses," the article/column advocates this new technology in all things. This is so someone will know where you are and what you're doing 24/7.

Never mind that some of us would like to take a mental health day from work and spend it beneath a tree reading a book without worrying if the spy satellite is going to inform the boss.

Most scary was this:

"Politicians are suggesting that high school students be chipped to prevent truancy."

I think skipping school a few times was one of the better things I did growing up, and I was a straight-A student.

The idea of being watched all the time seems to be OK with a great number of people, but I am not one of them. I like my privacy. I liked skipping school once in a while. I like taking the car for a drive and having no one know exactly where I am. Sometimes I like to not know where I am.

Why must we all be locatable at any given time? Will there one day be a moratorium on the number of times you can go to the bathroom in the future, and if you exceed that you'll be penalized?

How far will this go?

Not to mention nobody has any clue if this electronic embedding in people's skin will cause problems. Our bodies emit electric frequencies; that is why acupuncture and biofeedback and many health technologies, like sonograms, work. They take advantage of the electrical energy in the body.

These chips certainly could throw that off and make people sick. There is concern that cellphones cause brain cancer; what about this?

It's one thing to voluntarily put on a GPS device while you're out hiking so that if you get lost you can be found; it's another to advocate tracking so school kids won't skip school.

We are slowly eroding away our individuality. Things like this surely will turn us all into little robots, thinking and feeling and doing the exact same thing. Creativity will be weeded out like it's some kind of dandelion in the rose garden.

Nobody will skip school. Or take a mental health day. Or drive without knowing where they're bound.

What a dull world it will be.

Green Beans

I love my veggies. Green beans, peas, all of those legumes. Yum.

My favorite way to eat green beans is directly off the vine, washed and snapped and placed in my salad. Crisp and full of flavor!

Baring that, then I like them just barely cooked. Still a little crisp.

That is not the southern way to eat green beans.

We haven't had green beans in ages because I don't "cook them right" according to my husband. (Which is okay; I have never professed to be a cook.)

Green beans to him are supposed to be put in a big pot with a huge wad of fatback, and possibly new potatoes, and brought to a boil and then left to simmer on the stove for about five hours.

What you get is mess of soppy soggy beans that are slippery and which taste like boiled ham.

Husband has been having a difficult time; his dad is in the hospital, things at work not so great. So I am fixing him pot roast, green beans and rice for dinner.

He loves his beef, and he likes green beans "cooked the right way."

This has required some planning, particularly with the green beans, because they have to simmer on the stove forever if I want him to eat them. So I have a pot of green beans simmering. I had no fatback; I threw in a slice of bacon instead.

That will do.

It kind of makes the house smell like my Aunt Neva's. She always seemed to have a pot of green beans in fatback simmering when I visited her aging house in Salem. Aunt Neva was old for as long as I can remember, although she was only in her 80s when she died several years ago. However, I tend to associate the smell of long-cooked green beans with old age and elderly people.

Which may be why I don't like to cook them "the right way" very often. Old age isn't where I want to go.

One Word

I think the best word in marketing is this:

Repeat.

Imagine how much the body care business has made because of that one simple little word. Shampoo. Rinse. Repeat.

That's what marketing is made up of, getting consumers to repeat their purchases. Grab a chip, dip it, eat it. Repeat.

Watch one program on TV. Repeat.

Buy one computer, get addicted. Repeat.

Which brings me to my mother's favorite joke:

Pete and Repeat were sitting on a fence. Pete fell off. Who was left?

Repeat.

Pete and Repeat were sitting on a fence ...

Instead of Working

I answered these questions. They were sent to me.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Nope. But my uncle stole my name and his daughter, who is two years younger than I, has the same first name and middle initial as I do. My mother really did not like that.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Sometime earlier this year.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? No. It is nearly illegible, very tiny and cramped. It is getting worse as I age.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Vienna Sausages.

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Nope.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Probably. I don't know anyone else like me, though. Which probably says a lot, I'm just not sure what.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Moi? Be sarcastic? Never!

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? No. I had them removed in 1994. I was supposed to be off from work for one day; I ended up being out sick for two weeks. There were complications.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Not now. Maybe when I was young. Back then I went up in a small plane. I've also been in a hot air balloon.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Frosted Flakes. They're gre...at!

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?Depends on the shoe.

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? I am strong mentally but not physically.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? I don't eat ice cream but I like Chocolate Obsession Soy dessert

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Their eyes.

15. RED OR PINK? Pink.

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? I'm overweight.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? The people whom I never had.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU?No.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Jeans and white sneakers.

20. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? Raisins.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? Silence. Well, the air purifier. Plus the bell on the microwave keeps dinging to let me know the rice is done.

22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Blue.

23. FAVORITE SMELLS? Breakfast cooking.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? A person I was interviewing for an article.

25. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Women's tennis.

26. HAIR COLOR? Brown with lots of white coming in.

27. EYE COLOR? Hazel

28. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Glasses.

29. FAVORITE FOOD? Strawberry shortcake.

30. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Happy endings.

31. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, for about the umpteenth time. I haven't been to the theater in so long I can't remember what I last saw.

32. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? White with a logo on it.

33. SUMMER OR WINTER? Summer

34. HUGS OR KISSES? Hugs

35. FAVORITE DESSERT? Chocolate anything.

36. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? I'm in between books.

37. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? Go blog yourself. rosie.com.

38. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? I didn't watch TV last night.

39. FAVORITE SOUND? Nature noises. The wind whistling, the frogs chirping, the birds singing.

40. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Stones

41. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Spain and France. I guess that means France, I think it is further away.

42. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I make my friends laugh.

43. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? In a hospital.

More Harry Potter

J. K. Rowling, on her official site, is pleading with folks who might get a sneak peek at the book to stay mum about who lives and dies.

She wants her readers to embark on this last adventure without knowing where they are going, she writes.

Rowling has already said she kills off two main characters. But that probably includes evil guys, too. For all I know, she might mean Snape and Voldemort. They're pretty central to the story, after all.

I also read today that she might pen an eighth book, which would not be more adventures but instead some kind of Harry Potter encyclopedia culled from her extensive notes on Potter's world.

My anticipation for this last book is growing; I am like a kid. I am actually rather surprised at myself.

Books: The Quilter's Homecoming

The Quilter's Homecoming
By Jennifer Chiaverini

On Amazon (From Publishers Weekly):

Chiaverini's latest Elm Creek Quilts installment suffers at the hands of its lackluster hero and heroine. . . . When the couple arrive in the picturesque valley, they discover they have been swindled into the poorhouse by an unscrupulous land broker who sold them a fake deed. Determined not to crawl back to their families, Henry works as a hired hand, while Elizabeth cooks for the Jorgenson family, the ranch's true owners. . . .

2.5 stars

Books:Creatively Self-Employed

Creatively Self-Employed: How Writers and Artists Deal with Career Ups and Downs
By Kristen Fischer

First, a disclaimer: I am quoted in this book. The author took "interviews" as questionnaires on a writer's bulletin board two years ago and I liked the questions and submitted my answers. Some of the answers I gave are in this book.

This book is self-published by iUniverse. There is nothing wrong with self-publishing, but I have yet to read a self-published book that did not need an editor. This book had only one typo that I found, though I confess I didn't read it carefully. I thought some of it was repetitive and some tightening up would have been useful.

Essentially she quoted about 30 different people (there are 70 listed in the back - I don't know if they were all mentioned). We all essentially say the same thing - working for yourself is hard but worth it. There are a few gems of advice in the book, ways to make things easier or reframe your thinking. Readers might benefit from those.

2.5 stars

The Ol' Gray Head

Absolutely none of that white hair you see on the side of my head was visible six weeks ago.

Over the last two months, the white hair has grown steadily. Every morning I wake up fearful that this will be the day I am completely white-headed. And I'm not even 44 years old yet.

First the right side began turning, then the left. My hair stylist is urging me to go for coloring, but I am so chemical sensitive that the last time I colored my hair it made me ill.

So far the white is looking ... interesting. From a distance (and maybe if I squint) it looks like highlighting as opposed to gray.

At least it is coming in almost white and soft.

Floaters and Flashers

Nobody tells you that as you age, your body will fall apart and rebel on you in ways you never contemplated.

Four years ago, I developed a floater in my left eye. Apparently this is an accumulation of old cells that floats around in your eye gel.

Mine was very thick and long, shaped a lot like a sausage. It was most apparent when I looked at the sky or a white background.

I have always thought it came about because nine months earlier I had gone on an antihistamine and, at the behest of my physician, stayed on it all that time.

The result was I felt a lot better but I developed this eye thing, so I stopped taking the antihistamine.

The floater eventually decreased in size. Now it is a wispy thing, a thin line that I only notice rarely.

Two years ago, I started having flashers in my eye. I was scared witless by these flashes of light that simply occurred. Sparklies, I called them. At first they were so imperceptible I thought I was simply imagining it, and then one night I woke with a virtual firework explosion going on in my eye.

We called the emergency room and they hunted up an eye care doctor, who saw me at 6:30 a.m. and told me I had torn my retina. It did not require surgery, but it did require me to start using fake tears every night and every morning (and sometimes in between).

The flashers continue intermittently.

Today I was working and I sneezed. The lights flashed in my eye. Disco lights, I call them now. A line of sparkle here, there, like one of those disco balls rotating in a John Travolta movie.

The sensation lasts about a minute. I always go and use my artificial tears right away, once things clear up so I can walk.

They don't prepare you for this. No one told me that as I grew old, my eyes would do these weird things.

Just wait until I start telling you about my white hair.

Books: The Passions of Chelsea Kane

The Passions of Chelsea Kane
By Barbara Delinsky
Audiobook read by Karen Ziemba

I guess this is a romance book. It's not my standard listening but sometimes you just gotta grab something in a hurry.

It wasn't a bad book. Very character driven. Chelsea Kane is an adopted child who is now 37. Her adopted family is very wealthy. Her mother dies and that sends Chelsea off in search of her roots.

Clues lead her to New Hampshire, and she buys into the local quarry company because it is faltering and her architect company likes the granite it pulls out of the ground.

She also has sex with her business partner and gets pregnant. He marries someone else he impregnated. He was having a potent month.

Chelsea meets a lot of people, falls in love with Judd, discovers who her family is. There is some tension when her baby is kidnapped near the end.

2.5 stars for good character development

Thursday Thirteen

1. Overheard in Books-A-Million: "I ordered Harry Potter but I never got my card to present. I have to have that book when it comes in so I can read it! Can you check on my order?" The words were spoken by a wizened white-haired man.

2. The next Harry Potter movie comes out in July.

3. The seventh - and last - Harry Potter book comes out in July also.

4. I have the weekend of July 21 marked off on my calendar so I can spend that Saturday reading the book.

5. I didn't start reading J. K. Rowling's books until the fourth book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, came out. Then I went back and read the others.

6. Now I am an avowed Harry Potter fan, but I tend to forget the details of the books.

7. The movies so far have been very well done.

8. Harry Potter has grown up a lot in the books and I appreciate the character development.

9. Rowling has a great play on words and her character names have been well-thought-out.

10. My closest friend has never read Harry Potter. Neither has my husband, although he goes to the theater to watch the movies with me.

11. Once when I was discussing Harry Potter with someone in a restaurant, a woman turned around and informed me I was going to hell because Harry Potter is stuff of the devil.

12. Her son or grandson, who looked to be about 13, told the woman it was only fantasy.

13. Kids can tell the difference between fantasy and reality. It seems to be adults who don't know the difference.

No TV For Me

According to this article, Data Says 2.5 Million Less Watching TV, we're all watching less TV.

Hurray for us.

The article goes on to hypothesize why we are watching less on the boob tube. Maybe we're gardening, working on the computer, "or just plain bored. . . . Everyone has a theory to explain the plummeting ratings: early Daylight Savings Time, more reruns, bad shows, more shows being recorded or downloaded or streamed," the article reads.

The programs on TV are terrible, I think. Maybe we're all "reality show" tired. I'd like to see something fresh and exciting. Something that has a pulse. Something with strong characters, fresh plots, unique ideas.

Something that makes you go "huh" when you're done, and you're glad you watch it.

I don't watch shows on FOX because I won't support the network. I have never seen an episode of "24" or "American Idol." It leaves me out of conversation at the water cooler, but I don't have a water cooler anyway so I don't really care.

My show? The local news. That's pretty much all I watch. I never have the TV on during the day. The only show I make a point of catching is Ghost Whisperer on Friday nights on CBS.

That's because Friday nights are about the only nights I watch TV, and CBS has generally had decent shows in the 8 p.m. time slot. So Ghost Whisperer it is.

The rest of my time I spend reading, writing in this blog, working, doing the laundry, etc. I haven't the time to spend watching reruns or reality shows. Why would I want to watch people make idiots of themselves over money when I can read a book that takes me worlds away and gives me something to think about?

These are some of the shows I have made a point of watching in the past: Cagney & Lacey. Beauty & the Beast. Xena: Warrior Princess. Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. I liked comedies, like Murphy Brown, Cheers, Frasier.

You don't see TV like that anymore. Now everything is Law & Order something or another or its the newest CSI in Iceland. All the same.

Some people don't like to watch forensic science on TV. I am one of them. I don't read Patricia Cornwell books, either.

Give me substance. Give me character. Give me plot. Give me a reason to watch!

Then maybe I'll turn on the set.

Confidentially

Congressman Rick Boucher represents a district in Virginia but not the one I am in. He is, I think, the best Congressman the state has.

While there are muckraking writers who deserve to be challenged (I am thinking of the stories made up about entertainers), I believe that is best handled with civil suits.

The idea of a being hauled before a judge and ordered to give up my sources on a story where I had to quote "officials" is chilling. When the entity seeking the information is the government and not an individual, it is beyond chilling. It definitely is not what I expect to see in a free and open government.

I try at all times to be honest and diligent in the things I write, but I do worry that something I write will be misconstrued or challenged. Things are often misread; people generally read what they want to into the things they see.

One civil case I've been following and writing about for a year in particular has fretted me lately. I know one side sees all coverage about its traumas in court to be negative press and not objective reporting and there's nothing I can do about that.

But that's not going to get me in front of a judge. I am not an investigative reporter and I don't write national news. Sometimes I am quite glad of that.

I think Virginia, by the way, is one of the states that doesn't have a statute that protects reporters. At least that is what I've been told. There may be common law protections, but nothing on the books.

Double Negatives

Writing is hard and thankless work.

I have found this to be particularly true if you're doing what I do, which is act as a quasi-reporter/journalist. I interview people or attend meetings. I write up the interviews and the meetings.

I try to be creative about it. I enjoy it for rewards other than monetary (thank goodness) including but not limited to the opportunity to meet people I would not otherwise meet.

We recently completed our annual "profile" work. This is a major endeavor composed of features from all over the county. It takes some hustling to get this done.

I received one enthusiastic thank you out of my 10 interview subjects, and I was happy to get that. Usually I don't hear anything at all, and I'm left wondering how someone liked a story. Sometimes I hear through the grapevine what they thought or didn't think.

Of course, if there is something wrong with the article, I will hear about it. Errors always prompt the subject matter to get in touch.

Yesterday I received a phone call from another interview subject. Nice article, but there was a grammatical error.

"I don't speak in double negatives," my interviewee said. I had quoted her as saying "not nothing." and this was what she took away from the article, which was 1200 words long.

She did not recall that I had called her lots of nice words and made her sound like someone everyone would want to know. Nope. It was the double negative that caught her eye.

Sigh.

I apologized for my error, because of course I must have written something down wrong.

"I'll never hear the end of it," she said.

"Has anyone said anything to you yet? It's been nearly a week since the paper hit the stands," I politely asked.

No one had mentioned it, but nevertheless, there it stood. A flaw in the face of flawlessness.

And I'd do it all over again, because I really do love my work. Even the double negatives.

For the Birds

This is a baby bird and a parent bird (I think they are doves or pigeons, I am not up on my birds). The only thing I could figure, the baby bird was still trying to get fed from its mother, because it kept attacking the older bird's beak.

It was like they were doing some odd bird dance. Dance of the worms, maybe.

I took the picture through the window.

Truth in Labeling

Recently while I was searching for crackers, I went down the cereal aisle at the local grocer. I usually buy my cereal over in the "organic" section, where nobody has a clue about the brands.

Kellogg's, I noticed, was touting "organic" Rice Crispies and several other brands of cereal. The boxes were about $1.50 higher than the same cereal not so labeled.

I don't know about you, but I have a hard time putting Kellogg's and "organic" in the same sentence. Kellogg's gives us Pop Tarts, after all. Can't get much more non-organic than a Pop Tart.

Organic doesn't mean what it once did thanks to some labeling changes. I think most people think it means "good" and "healthy" and free of chemicals like hormones, pesticides, herbicides, and genetic modification, among other things.

The USDA seems to think organic still means "pure" and good and all of those things. But some people are starting to wonder, particularly when you have a company like Kellogg's' suddenly on the band wagon. I bet they never met a dollar they didn't like.

The government has all of these labels that are supposed to tell us things. It has a website with the National Institute of Health to tell us how to read labels.

I'd like to see some real truth in labeling. Take this bag of Frito's corn chips on the counter in the kitchen. That label says 160 calories a serving. Oh wow, says me, I can dig that. Munch munch.

But wait. A serving is 10 chips. It doesn't say whether that's whole chips or little broken pieces. But there are 15 servings in the bag. So there are 2,400 calories in this bag of Frito's.

Don't you think it should say THERE ARE 2,400 CALORIES IN THIS BAG. Would you buy it if it said that? Maybe not.

The Kraft French Onion dip to go with the Frito's has 60 calories in 2 tablespoons. I don't think 2 tablespoons of dip covers 10 chips. There are 15 servings in the dip, though, so if you can figure out how to spread it out over 10 chips it should all come out even.

There are 900 calories in the dip. Don't you think the dip should say THERE ARE 900 CALORIES IN THIS CONTAINER. Would you buy it if it said that? Maybe not.

Essentially there are enough calories in a bag of Frito's and the accompanying dip to feed one person well for TWO DAYS.

I don't particularly want to live on Frito's for two days. So I should just eat one serving.

I don't normally eat Frito's but I have a really sore throat and a bad cough and I was craving salt. So my husband brought home chips and dip. Wasn't that thoughtful?

I just know he never read the labels.

Movie: Man of the Year

This 2006 release stars Robin Williams. It is directed by Barry Levinson.

We watched it last weekend as a pay-per-view on DirectTV.

We generally enjoy Robin Williams; my husband is an ardent fan. However, in recent years that ardor has cooled as Williams' seems to have become practically manic in his delivery.

Williams portrays Tom Dobbs, a talk show host (think Bill Maher or Jon Stewart) who runs for office and wins.

Meanwhile, there is a problem with the new electronic voting machines sanctioned by Congress. Pretty girl realizes there is a problem, gets in way of big corporation, gets smeared, attempts to tell Dobbs that he really didn't win, falls for him, etc. etc.

The movie had about three laughs and was very heavy handed in its messages. While I agree with the messages, I am not sure they make for good entertainment. Yes, the electoral college system we use is weird, to say the least - a man winning the presidency by winning 13 states? Sure, it can be done with our system.

That was one of the messages.

The other is the complete distrust of electronic voting, and I really agree with that message. I think the machines can be rigged and altered and are totally unsecure. But it's hard to make an entire movie around it, especially a movie that didn't know whether it was a comedy or an action flick.

Maybe if they'd chosen total action flick?

Anyway, I was glad we didn't waste the money at the theater to see this.

1.5 stars

Book: Trickster's Queen

Trickster's Queen, by Tamora Pierce
Copyright 2004
467 pages

This sequel to Trickster's Choice was fabulous. (I reviewed it here.) I enjoyed every word and was sorry to come to the end.

Aly is a great character; a super spy who grows into a super woman. Lots of fun fantasy that is truly secondary to magnificient character building. She is far from home but has found a love, Nawat, a crow who turns into a man. She has found a cause and a passion, and a way to use her skills. She also makes mistakes and her fallibility is endearing.

Now she must help a people reclaim their nation and place the right person on the throne. Is Aly up to the task?

The secondary lead character, Dove, is also very well done. She is 13, has above-average intelligence, and the will to be the leader the people need. Will she always be hovering in her sister's footsteps?

Great ending and resolution.

4.75 stars

Tamora Pierce's website is here.

Book: The Fiery Cross

Audiobook
The Fiery Cross, by Diana Gabaldon
Read by Geraldine James

I was unable to get through the first tape of this book. The reader on the audio kept lapsing into this terrible fake Scottish accent that was unintelligible and finally I turned it off. I refused to waste my time on something that I could only partially understand.

The book's premise interested me greatly and I will try to find it in print. In the meantime, I looked it up on amazon.com and discovered it is the fifth in a series, so I will need to go back and start at the beginning.

Here is what amazon had to say:

The story of Outlander begins just after the Second World War, when a British field nurse named Claire Randall walks through a cleft stone in the Scottish highlands and is transported back some two hundred years to 1743.

Here, now, is The Fiery Cross, the eagerly awaited fifth volume in this remarkable, award-winning series of historical novels. The year is 1771, and war is approaching. Jamie Fraser’s wife has told him so. Little as he wishes to, he must believe it, for hers is a gift of dreadful prophecy—a time-traveller’s certain knowledge. To break his oath to the Crown will brand him a traitor; to keep it is certain doom. Jamie Fraser stands in the shadow of the fiery cross—a standard that leads nowhere but to the bloody brink of war.

No. 250

This is my 250th post. Which is not a lot compared to some but is a lot compared to others.

I began blogging in this blog in August 2006, but it was not my first effort. I had been blogging on AOL for two (or more) years prior when AOL changed its format. After some time I decided to switch to blogger and well, here I am. Whoopee.

Blogging is different from journaling or diary writing, though people compare them. For one thing, I am utterly aware that I have an audience, even if it is just one person. My journals, and there are many because I have always done some kind of introspective writing, were never meant to be seen. Not even by me sometimes.

With a blog I am keenly aware that something in here might come back to haunt me. I mean, what if I were to run for political office? Will I be answering stupid questions from reporters about what I meant in such and such an entry?

I don't find blogging hard, mostly because I have no great expectations for myself with this. I try to do it every day but I don't beat myself up if I fail. I never wrote in my journal every single day either.

I do miss my journal, that repository of thoughts, though. I stopped writing those kinds of entries long ago, well before I was blogging, though. But sometimes there are days when I think, I need to just write about so-and-so and get that event off my mind. Sometimes I do it, but since I have no place, no designated notebook or anything, I find myself at a loss with what to do with it.

Weird, I know.

Anyway, here's to 250. I'm raising a root beer in salute.

Trillium

Yesterday my friend J. S. and I took a jaunt to a secret area.

My goal was to see if the trillium was in bloom (you may recall I wrote about earlier jaunts to see the trillium here.). The plants were in full thrall, though some of it looked like it was near the end of its course. The forest floor was covered with the plant; it looked like something out of a fairy tale. A way to an enchanted place, perhaps. Surely there were gnomes and elves and other woodland myths at the far end of this trail of lovelies.







Trillium, according to Wikipedia, has about 50 varieties. I have no idea what variety this particular flower might be. My mother told me that the variety hidden in this vale is rare, and to me it looks like it's trillium ovatum which can't be right because apparently that grows out west, not here in southwestern Virginia.

If you pick a trillium plant, you kill it. It is illegal in some states to pick trillium because it takes years for the plants to come back. Perhaps this wild patch of trillium has been growing for decades. It has been there at least a decade, probably longer. I know of only a few people who would venture into the area in the spring who might have seen it.

I am happy to share it with you.

So long, Great Great Aunt

I did not know Aunt Pearl very well; I don't think I have seen her in at least 20 years. When I was a child, my grandmother would walk us up to downtown Salem so we could buy ourselves toys at Newberry's with our allowance money. We always stopped by Aunt Pearl's house for a sit on the porch and a sip of lemonade or Coke.

She was the sister of my great-grandfather, my grandmother's aunt. I think I have that right. She would have been 64 when I was born, so of course I always remember her as being old.

My grandmother is 83 and her sister is 87, but my mother died at 56. Aunt Pearl was 107. I am not sure what that says about my longevity odds.

Aunt Pearl saw the world change. She lived the entire 20th century; I don't suppose many people can say that. She saw two world wars, lots of other wars, the invention of TV, the advent of electricty and telephones in every home, man on the moon, the love connection of the 60s, the 1950s Daddy Knows Best era, the Me's of the 1970s. Her early life was spent in a time when we still cooked with fire, not electricity, and refrigeration was just starting to become a way of life for every household.

She stayed by herself until she about 105 and only in recent months did she finally end up in a nursing home.

Farewell, Aunt Pearl. You outlived many.

***

Moving On

(Note: This was written 4/23/07 and appeared in a local publication several days later.)

The soil was cool in my hands as I sifted it. Saturday morning the air was still, crisp and clean, a relief from the ill winds that blew in earlier in the week.

The sky overhead seemed an endless blue ceiling leading to heaven.
My garden had waited long enough for me to bring some green to it. I mapped out my rows, then I struck at the dirt with my favorite hoe, the one that says “Real Tools for Kids” on the side.

As my tool thwacked against the ground, the songbirds heralded the day with a Hallelujah chorus. The dove cooed, a blue jay squawked, the robin with a nest in the spruce next to the garden fussed eloquently at me as I perspired.

The earth smelled sweet and the fragrance buoyed my spirits better than any man-made perfume.

The ancient garden rake let me down as its metal part separated from wood. I stared at it a while before trudging inside for duct tape.

Not the best fix, but it worked.

The raking and hoeing done, I dropped to my knees with cabbage and lettuce plants in hand. The tiny shoots pulled easily from their container, and I talked to each as I patted soil around the roots.
“You’ll like it out here, there’s a lot more sunshine,” I promised.

The lettuce, which had been in the garage since the cold snap, was looking especially peaked and in need of light.

Next I made rows of radishes, green beans, kale and cucumbers, then piled up the dirt for a couple of hills of squash. I pushed my luck with some of the vegetables, the ones with “plant after no chance of frost” on them. But I am gambling that the cold weather has passed and we’re on our way to summer.

Garden planted, I turned to the flower beds. My roses were growing heartily a few weeks ago, but now leaves, deadened by frost bite, dangled from branches. Snip. Snip. Some well-placed cuts and the plants looked perky again.

The sun blazed and a cool breeze dried my face, red with heat and effort, while I took a rest with a glass of water. Soil dotted my T-shirt and the knees of my jeans were caked with mud.

I said a quiet prayer as I thought about the long week. What a time of loss and sorrow, of bad omens and brave heroics those days had been. At the time it did not seem the week could end with a beautiful Saturday.

But it did. Mother Nature brought a day of comfort and renewal.

It was a moving on.

Thursday Thirteen

1. I picked up a copy today of the Consumer Information Catalog from my local library.

2. You can order useful phamplets from this. The information is created by goverment entities.

3. In the past I have ordered information on topics such as oral cancer in an effort to get my husband to stop chewing tobacco.

4. My efforts went unheeded.

5. The publications range from free to $15.00.

6. Topics range from cars (buying a new car) to computer to education to employment to food.

7. Something like "Your Right to Federal Records" on the Freedom of Information Act costs $1.

8. A phamplet on Restaurant and Take-Out Safety costs you nothing.

9. I plan to order several phamplets on allergies. They are free.

10. I might order one on cholesterol. It is free, too.

11. I think some of the documents that they charge for should be free and some of the free ones maybe should have a charge.

12. For example, it costs $2.75 for a copy of the Constitution of the United States and the Declaration of Independence.

13. Now I know the price of knowledge of democracy: $2.75.

The Cold Snap

The April cold snap has done a lot of damage to the vegetation. I was at Ikenberry's Monday and G. told me they'd lost about half of their fruit crop.

Apples and peaches will be scarce and expensive this summer, I fear.

This is the view out my window now:



This is what it looked like before the cold snap:



Isn't the first picture scary? I am hoping the trees will recover, but when I was walking Sunday and examining the oaks, I saw little sign of new leaves.

Now we have this odd juxtaposition of dead growth and new growth. It is weird.

I think global warming is misnamed. It should be called global environmental change, because I think that more adequately describes what is happening. The environment is changing.

I wonder if the trees will adapt.

Save Chocolate!

Like OMG.

The FDA wants to change the rules for chocolate making. They want to let "real chocolate" be made not with cocoa butter but with fat substitutes. Vegetable fat.

You can read about it here in the L.A. Times. In part, it says:

The FDA is entertaining a "citizen's petition" to allow manufacturers to substitute vegetable fats and oils for cocoa butter.

The "citizens" who created this petition represent groups that would benefit most from this degradation of the current standards. They are the Chocolate Manufacturers Assn., the Grocery Manufacturers Assn., the Snack Food Assn. and the National Cattlemen's Beef Assn. (OK, I'm not sure what's in it for them), along with seven other food producing associations.

This is what they think of us chocolate eaters, according to their petition on file at the FDA:

"Consumer expectations still define the basic nature of a food. There are, however, no generally held consumer expectations today concerning the precise technical elements by which commonly recognized, standardized foods are produced. Consumers, therefore, are not likely to have formed expectations as to production methods, aging time or specific ingredients used for technical improvements, including manufacturing efficiencies."

Let me translate:
"Consumers won't know the difference."

I don't know about you, but I will notice the difference. Cocoa butter chocolate melts in your mouth; its the texture that gives good chocolate its nearly orgasmic sensations. We already have "imitation" chocolate - and I don't eat it. It's the stuff you try to pawn off on kids when you accidentally purchase it at the store.

They don't eat it either.

The scarier thing about this is that essentially this "citizen petition" is asking for a complete relaxation of food standards by the FDA on the basis that we have labels now and if we don't read them to see that things in the food will kill us that's our problem.

This is a request to relaxe food standards.

The lack of government oversight during recent years has brought us the peanut butter scare, the dog food scare, the spinach scare, etc., etc. ad naseum .... need I say more about what we're in for if food standards are lessened? It's not just about the taste.

Read the FDA thing for yourself here. If you want to comment, go here.

Thanks to redsneakz over at Separation Anxiety for pointing this out.

The Gaffe

Thursday I had reason to be at the funeral home to offer condolences.

My in-laws and husband came too, as our dear departed was a family friend. Most of the neighborhood and town turned out to say farewell to the elderly woman.

After we had all paid our respects, we stood around as people do, looking over the room, making sure we hadn't missed any family members. A lady spotted me and flung up a hand, "Hey A.," she said.

"Oh, hi! Have you met my mother-in-law? E. F., this is Lynn B.," I said, as politely and helpfully as one could be.

They shook hands. "Nice to meet you, I'm Jane J.," said the erroneously labeled newcomer.

Properly mortified, what could I say? "I'm sorry, I mistook you for Lynn B., I never realized before how much you look alike," I stammered.

In hindsight, they look nothing alike, but at the funeral parlor, and particularly with Lynn B.'s name on my mind because my mother-in-law had mentioned her to me just a few moments before, I could have sworn they were twins.

I can only imagine how Jane J. relayed that conversation to her husband, who is actually someone I do know on sight. In my defense, I think I've actually met Jane J. twice in my lifetime, but still, I should know her on sight.

Unfortunately I deal with a lot of people in my work, and folks whom I spent an hour interviewing (occasionally years and years before) sometimes thinks that means I know who they are. It's not unusual for me to be accosted in the grocery store by strangers who read my work in the paper and think they know me. In fact I rarely get through the store without somebody stopping me for a chat. Generally speaking I don't mind; I like to chat. And who knows when another story for the paper will come out of a greeting.

But I do get greatly embarrassed when I can't remember names. Sometimes I just pretend I know who these people are, and they walk away apparently without realizing I am clueless. (And usually remain clueless, never to know who the heck I was talking to.) Other times I say, "I'm so sorry, I know I should know who you are, but I can't seem to recall."

People don't like it if you don't remember who they are. I understand that; your name is an important part of your identity. This is a real problem for me; I can recall faces but if someone is "out of place" I have a very difficult time remembering them. I do name association things, like "Karen works at the Kourthouse" or "Annie at APCO" to try to remember, but it does not always work. And when you deal with hundreds of different people throughout the year, well, it gets confusing.

Since I have such difficulty recalling names, I usually introduce myself right away to people when I call or greet them. One of the most memorable times I did that was when I called a lawyer I had worked for seven years prior to ask for a referral. "Hi Walt, this is A., remember? I worked for you at . . . ."

His somewhat incredulous response was along the lines of, "Of course I remember, I'd have to be a complete idiot to forget." And what do you say to that?

And then there are people I recognize but haven't seen in a while, and I sometimes say something like, "Hey! It's A., remember, we met at thus and so ..." and they usually look annoyed and say "Of course I remember."

I fear they take it as an insult when I re-introduce myself to them.

So having made this terrible gaffe most recently, I scratch my head and wonder how to overcome this obvious deficit in my brain functioning. It is a problem I suspect will only worsen as I age.

"Remember me? Good, 'cause I've forgotten you." Yikes. I haven't, not really. I know who you are.

I just don't know your name.

Give Peace a Chance

After the rather rough week we've had here in Virginia, it seems fitting to remind fellow bloggers of the Peace Globe. On June 6, 2007, bloggers will once again show the world that they're intent on stopping violence.

The Peace Globe promotion is the brainchild of Mimi over at MimiWrites. You can get your own peace globe there, if you like.

I hope anyone interested in peace will participate. Maybe it's a good time to remember the events of April 16, too, and wonder how we can stop such a thing from ever happening again.

I pray for peace on each and every day, and I hope that peace finds you and holds you close. Remember to tell the folks you care about that you love them.

Book: Full Bloom

Audio book
Full Bloom, by Janet Evanovich & Charlotte Hughes
Read by Lorelei King

This book doesn't have the laughs that Stephanie Plum brings in Evanovich's other books, but it was interesting enough.

Annie has lots of problems. She has a ghost, a wedding to plan that will be held in her bed and breakfast, a drunken hired hand, and a missing husband.

Enter Wes, a private eye who poses as a photographer. He was hired by Annie's mother-in-law, who suspects Annie killed her husband. Along the way to resolution there is a rolling pin, a body, an arrest, a drunken binge, a pair of underwear with hearts on them ... it's not a madcap but it is fun.

3.75 stars

Books: Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series.
Audio books (mostly read by Lorelei King)

Vols. 1-12

Evanovich's Stephanie Plum books are a hoot. Stephanie Plum is bounty hunter, a rather inept one, at that.

She has two boyfriends and a grandmother who constantly crack me up.

That said, I confess I haven't "read" a one of the books; I have listened to every one of them as an audiobook. Sometimes they are so funny I have to stop the car and laugh. Sometimes I sit in the car in the driveway just to keep listening.

They are that good.

4.5 stars (all Stephanie Plum books)

Book: Trickster's Choice

Trickster's Choice, by Tamora Pierce
Copyright 2003
425 pages

Tamora Pierce writes fantasy that ends up in the teen genre, though I don't know why. I read it and thoroughly enjoy her work.

Trickster's Choice brings us young Aly, daughter of Alanna, the King's Champion. Aly needs a direction. She wants to be a spy like her father, George, but her parents frown on that. She decides to take a little adventure and gets herself kidnapped and sold into slavery.

Enter a trickster god and you have the makings of an intriguing fanciful plot to bring a new ruler to the throne. Along the way Aly realizes her skills, makes friends, and earns her freedom.

Great book.

4.5 stars (I'd give it 5 but it starts out a little slow.)

Thursday Thirteen: Being Green

Things I do in the name of being environmentally friendly:

1. Recycle old newspapers.

2. Take my magazines and old books to the library, where they are either added to the shelves or sold to fund Friends of the Library initiatives.

3. Use the energy-saver light bulbs in all my ceiling lights.

4. Have the water-saver toilets and shower heads.

5. Recycle plastics, including grocery bags (I really need to find some good canvas totes).

6. Buy veggies from the local farmers.

7. Grow my own food in a garden every year.

8. Turned down the temperature in the hot water heater.

9. Completely unplug appliances I don't use.

10. Use the library a lot instead of buying new books.

11. Put as many stops as I can into my trips, so that I am not making multiple trips in the car to run errands.

12. I drive a car that gets good gas mileage (30+ mpg).

13. I write about conservation issues in order to make people think about what they're doing.

The wind still blows

The wind took the top out of this cedar tree, which is beside my house:

Said tree top ended up in the fence, tearing out a post completely. Husband replaced it right away because otherwise the cows would be in the yard.

The winds have been tremendous for the last two days. I have had to stay indoors because the wind makes my ear hurt terribly. When I went out to take those photos, I put on earmuffs and a scarf to keep the wind from causing me pain.

As far as I'm concerned, we've come through the windstorm unscathed. A broken tree top and fence line is pretty much nothing. I know we have schools out because of power outages, and we've been quite lucky in that regard. It's blinked, but that is all.

I am hoping for warmer and calmer days.

Books: Queen of Broken Hearts, Summer Reading, the Great Far Away

Queen of Broken Hearts, by Cassandra King.

Southern women. Romance. Mystery. Good read, but long and slow.

4 stars


Summer Reading, by Hilma Wolitzer (Publication date: June 1, 2007)

(I read the galley proof). One intriguing and interesting character of three main characters.

3.5 stars


The Great Far Away, by Joan Frank.

Don't bother.

1 star

Windy Day

The wind has been blowing about 50 mph today. We've lost the top of a cedar tree and some fence.

Apparently the near-hurricane winds blew craziness across the mountains, for there has been a mass shooting at V.T. I have been watching the coverage, stunned. Everyone I know who attends or teaches there has been accounted for. Right now the numbers are 31 killed and 29 wounded, for a total of 60. The story is unfolding and more details will come.

It makes for a bad Monday, that's for sure. It's stunning news. I feel for the families.

The photo is a tom turkey that was in the backyard on Friday.