Yesterday my disks from Dell came for my Windows 7 upgrade.
In July, regular readers will recall, my Gateway of four years developed a hardware issue. The resolution was as expensive as a new computer. I had a new computer purchased scheduled, but not for another year. I bit the bullet and bought the thing early.
After a horrible experience with an ASUS computer, I ended up with this Dell. It came with Windows Vista, an operating system which received poor reviews all around. However, with the new computer came the promise of a free upgrade to Windows 7, which at the time was touted as being more stable and better and what Vista was supposed to me. Sort of like Windows ME prior to Windows XP, I think.
Anyway, I did not dislike Vista and was using it on my Gateway laptop anyway, but when the upgrade arrived in the mail yesterday, I could scarcely contain myself.
I'd read that an upgrade could take as long as 20 hours. Yikes. But the little two page-manual Dell sent said it would take two hours.
At 2:50 p.m. yesterday, I plugged in the "upgrade assistant" DVD from Dell. By 6:15 p.m. (longer than two hours but certainly not 20), the thing was done and my computer was up and running on the new Windows 7.
The upgrade via Dell was very easy. The "upgrade assistant" took care of removing software, such as audio and video, and then adding the Windows 7 versions back. TThe only software I really had an issue with was my keyboard software. I use a Microsoft Natural Keyboard and the intellipoint software did not jive with Windows 7. This was easily solved with a download, however.
The other issue was my desktop. I like a Windows Classic look most of the time (solid blue screen) and my desktop came up with pretty icons on a black screen. After some fiddling with preferences I managed to get the desktop back to something I like.
I'm pretty happy with it so far. The printer works, my MS Office works, Quicken works, and the virus software works. Those are the main things. And I feel very comfortable knowing that at least for a little while this operating system won't be abandoned by Microsoft.
*Nobody paid me anything to write this.*
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Friday, November 20, 2009
The Diarist Revealed
You might recall that I had come across a diary written in 1904. Here is the story that resulted from my finding out who the author was:
Carrie Lee Hamilton, who died in 1952, was the author of the 1904 diary found by a Craig County auctioneer and handed over to me because the diary mentioned Firebaughs.
An October 28 story in the The Fincastle Herald detailed names and circumstances of the life of the 20-year-old writer. Within a day, Rosalie Hamilton Goad had identified the diarist as being her great aunt.
Recently Goad and her cousin, Claudine Drewry Spangler, met me so I could return the diary to the family. As fate would have it, Spangler and I had met when my husband's uncle passed away a few years ago. She was related to the Firebaughs by marriage for sure.
In another strange twist, she revealed that she lived with Carrie Lee Hamilton for the first 11 years of her life, and she attended school with Pat Charlton, the brother of Don Charlton, the auctioneer who initially found the little book.
The diary held the concerns and pathos of a single woman who longed to be a good Christian and maybe find a beau. Spangler and Goad reported that her aunt, Martha Jane Hamilton, who raised Carrie, thwarted the latter goal. She went so far as to move Carrie to Wyoming after she received a proposal in order to keep the young woman unwed.
"You know if she picked the whole family up and moved them to Wyoming, she ran the show," Rosalie said of her Great-Great Aunt Martha.
Aunt Martha must have been a pistol - literally. Claudine reported that she always carried a gun, usually in an egg basket under a cloth.
Carrie Lee Hamilton was born on December 28, 1884 in Alleghany County. Her mother died when she was four and Aunt Martha, called "Aunt Matt," helped raise her and her brother Grover.
They grew up in the Woodland area of Botetourt County, near the intersection of Country Club Road and Blacksburg Road. Apparently she still lived in that area in 1904, based on the information in the found diary.
Sometime after that, Carrie received her proposal from Joe Baker and Aunt Matt moved her away, but they returned after a few years. Aunt Matt purchased a farm on Old Fincastle Road and named it Willow Tree Farm. She left the property to Carrie when she died in 1941.
Carrie owned a small country store in the Zion's Hill area of northern Botetourt. Goad has a 1936 diary and a ledger from the store that once belonged to her great aunt. She believes that Carrie kept diaries all of her life, but does not know what became of them all.
In her diaries, Carrie writes of making mattresses, raising a garden, working with flower bulbs, canning, milking the cow and other tasks of rural living. She also became a staunch member of Zion Hill church, where she taught Sunday school.
Claudine Spangler's parents, Claude and Marie Drewry, moved in with Carrie following Aunt Matt's death to help with the farm and the store. In return, they received the property when Carrie passed away from pleurisy at the age of 68.
"You had to take care of your people," Claudine said. She owns the property now; her mother lived on the 52-acre farm until she passed away in 1999.
The store burned in 1953 and the original home has been torn down, Claudine said. A small house was built on the store location.
She remembered Carrier Hamilton as being a tiny woman. She made clothign for Claudine and her sister and even taught Claudine for most of the first grade because a broken arm prevented her from attending school.
"I don't remember her ever complaining," Claudine said. The 1904 diary, with its concerns about Christianity, surprised both Claudine and Rosalie, who remembered their great aunt as a devout Christian.
She was so devout that "she let anybody in the world cheat her at the store," Rosalie said. "People took advantage of her, even her brother."
She described Carrie as a hard worker who was always looking for ways to make money. One of her efforts led her to make "rats" for women's hair. These hair switches, similar to hair extensions today, brought her the small sums of 50 and 20 cents each, depending on the type of hair piece.
"Aunt Carrie was really good to my mother," Claudine said. Her mother loved to wear jeans and pants, something not nearly as normal in those days as now, and Aunt Carrie went so far as to purchase knickers for her.
"It looked rather masculine," Claudine said.
She also remembered that Carrie was constantly writing stories. She remembered one story was about a woman whose lover went to war in the War Between the States but he did not return. "She went to the gate everyday to look for him," Claudine said.
The legacy of Carrie Lee Hamilton, who never married or had children, lives on in her great-nieces, both of whom recall the woman with much fondness. Essays about Carrie Lee Hamilton and other family members can be found in the Botetourt County Heritage Book.
Rosalie, who has letters and other writings from the time period, hopes to create a book from her family information, now that she has retired.
No one knows how the 1904 diary ended up in Craig County, but the journey of it back to Botetourt has certainly made it a rare find.
Carrie Lee Hamilton, who died in 1952, was the author of the 1904 diary found by a Craig County auctioneer and handed over to me because the diary mentioned Firebaughs.
An October 28 story in the The Fincastle Herald detailed names and circumstances of the life of the 20-year-old writer. Within a day, Rosalie Hamilton Goad had identified the diarist as being her great aunt.
Recently Goad and her cousin, Claudine Drewry Spangler, met me so I could return the diary to the family. As fate would have it, Spangler and I had met when my husband's uncle passed away a few years ago. She was related to the Firebaughs by marriage for sure.
In another strange twist, she revealed that she lived with Carrie Lee Hamilton for the first 11 years of her life, and she attended school with Pat Charlton, the brother of Don Charlton, the auctioneer who initially found the little book.
The diary held the concerns and pathos of a single woman who longed to be a good Christian and maybe find a beau. Spangler and Goad reported that her aunt, Martha Jane Hamilton, who raised Carrie, thwarted the latter goal. She went so far as to move Carrie to Wyoming after she received a proposal in order to keep the young woman unwed.
"You know if she picked the whole family up and moved them to Wyoming, she ran the show," Rosalie said of her Great-Great Aunt Martha.
Aunt Martha must have been a pistol - literally. Claudine reported that she always carried a gun, usually in an egg basket under a cloth.
Carrie Lee Hamilton was born on December 28, 1884 in Alleghany County. Her mother died when she was four and Aunt Martha, called "Aunt Matt," helped raise her and her brother Grover.
They grew up in the Woodland area of Botetourt County, near the intersection of Country Club Road and Blacksburg Road. Apparently she still lived in that area in 1904, based on the information in the found diary.
Sometime after that, Carrie received her proposal from Joe Baker and Aunt Matt moved her away, but they returned after a few years. Aunt Matt purchased a farm on Old Fincastle Road and named it Willow Tree Farm. She left the property to Carrie when she died in 1941.
Carrie owned a small country store in the Zion's Hill area of northern Botetourt. Goad has a 1936 diary and a ledger from the store that once belonged to her great aunt. She believes that Carrie kept diaries all of her life, but does not know what became of them all.
In her diaries, Carrie writes of making mattresses, raising a garden, working with flower bulbs, canning, milking the cow and other tasks of rural living. She also became a staunch member of Zion Hill church, where she taught Sunday school.
Claudine Spangler's parents, Claude and Marie Drewry, moved in with Carrie following Aunt Matt's death to help with the farm and the store. In return, they received the property when Carrie passed away from pleurisy at the age of 68.
"You had to take care of your people," Claudine said. She owns the property now; her mother lived on the 52-acre farm until she passed away in 1999.
The store burned in 1953 and the original home has been torn down, Claudine said. A small house was built on the store location.
She remembered Carrier Hamilton as being a tiny woman. She made clothign for Claudine and her sister and even taught Claudine for most of the first grade because a broken arm prevented her from attending school.
"I don't remember her ever complaining," Claudine said. The 1904 diary, with its concerns about Christianity, surprised both Claudine and Rosalie, who remembered their great aunt as a devout Christian.
She was so devout that "she let anybody in the world cheat her at the store," Rosalie said. "People took advantage of her, even her brother."
She described Carrie as a hard worker who was always looking for ways to make money. One of her efforts led her to make "rats" for women's hair. These hair switches, similar to hair extensions today, brought her the small sums of 50 and 20 cents each, depending on the type of hair piece.
"Aunt Carrie was really good to my mother," Claudine said. Her mother loved to wear jeans and pants, something not nearly as normal in those days as now, and Aunt Carrie went so far as to purchase knickers for her.
"It looked rather masculine," Claudine said.
She also remembered that Carrie was constantly writing stories. She remembered one story was about a woman whose lover went to war in the War Between the States but he did not return. "She went to the gate everyday to look for him," Claudine said.
The legacy of Carrie Lee Hamilton, who never married or had children, lives on in her great-nieces, both of whom recall the woman with much fondness. Essays about Carrie Lee Hamilton and other family members can be found in the Botetourt County Heritage Book.
Rosalie, who has letters and other writings from the time period, hopes to create a book from her family information, now that she has retired.
No one knows how the 1904 diary ended up in Craig County, but the journey of it back to Botetourt has certainly made it a rare find.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
26 years
Today is my anniversary. My husband and I are celebrating 26 years together.
We met at a James River/Lord Botetourt football game, played at LBHS. At that time the home team was on the other side of the field from where it is now, and people tended to congregate beneath the goal post on the right side as you look at the field from the school.
I had graduated high school in 1981 and some friends lured me back to the campus for the game. Said friends introduced me to James.
I remembered him. We had ridden the school bus together lo those many years ago. He was four years older than I and of course had no time for the mousy little girl who sat on the back seat and did her homework. I had no hint of a romantic notion for the boisterous boy who would race from the bus and climb aboard a motorcycle left at the end of his driveway. Kids always moved from one side of the bus to the other to watch him zoom around the field. He seemed to free.
And there we were meeting beneath the goal post. We tried to make small talk, talking about the game, going to school, our mutual friends. He asked me if I would go out with him that night, and I told him no, I was with friends. He asked if I would go out the following night and I told him no, I had plans with my parents who were celebrating their anniversary.
Poor thing, he was trying very hard, wasn't he? We left the ball game and then we met up again at Mike's Market, a local hang-out and grocery store. At that time it was located in what is now Bellacino's Pizza. He again asked me to go out and my friends this time urged me to go. One of the couples with us said they would go out also, and the rest would find another way home (I was driving and had my own car.) One of them promised to call my mother (which she did). This was pre-cell phone.
So I drove to meet him at the Ramada Inn, which was a hotel at the Hollins exit of I-81. He was with a friend of his. The place had a nightclub and it was the place to go. And there we danced and shared our first kiss. We quickly became an item and the rest, as they say, is history.
We met at a James River/Lord Botetourt football game, played at LBHS. At that time the home team was on the other side of the field from where it is now, and people tended to congregate beneath the goal post on the right side as you look at the field from the school.
I had graduated high school in 1981 and some friends lured me back to the campus for the game. Said friends introduced me to James.
I remembered him. We had ridden the school bus together lo those many years ago. He was four years older than I and of course had no time for the mousy little girl who sat on the back seat and did her homework. I had no hint of a romantic notion for the boisterous boy who would race from the bus and climb aboard a motorcycle left at the end of his driveway. Kids always moved from one side of the bus to the other to watch him zoom around the field. He seemed to free.
And there we were meeting beneath the goal post. We tried to make small talk, talking about the game, going to school, our mutual friends. He asked me if I would go out with him that night, and I told him no, I was with friends. He asked if I would go out the following night and I told him no, I had plans with my parents who were celebrating their anniversary.
Poor thing, he was trying very hard, wasn't he? We left the ball game and then we met up again at Mike's Market, a local hang-out and grocery store. At that time it was located in what is now Bellacino's Pizza. He again asked me to go out and my friends this time urged me to go. One of the couples with us said they would go out also, and the rest would find another way home (I was driving and had my own car.) One of them promised to call my mother (which she did). This was pre-cell phone.
So I drove to meet him at the Ramada Inn, which was a hotel at the Hollins exit of I-81. He was with a friend of his. The place had a nightclub and it was the place to go. And there we danced and shared our first kiss. We quickly became an item and the rest, as they say, is history.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Call me Scrooge
For over 20 years I have awakened to the sounds of a certain radio station. At 6 a.m. they give a rundown of local news and generally they play Adult Contemporary music. It is a music mix that I enjoy. My alarm goes of just a moment or two before 6 a.m., so I usually hear a song before the news comes on. I like having time to hit the "off" button if I don't feel like listening to the woes first thing.
On Monday, the song that greeted me was a holiday tune. I knew immediately that the station had switched to its Christmas music mix - and it was only November 16. I grabbed my glasses and fumbled with the clock radio dial until I found NPR.
And there it will stay.
I have had it with this station. I love Christmas carols as much as the next person but not before Thanksgiving. That's just too soon. It's bad enough in the stores; I don't need it piped into my house, and I will not tolerate it.
How can a holiday be special if you celebrate it with so much crass commercialism? It's not like they're just playing O Holy Night the entire time, no. They are playing the whole mess, from Grandma Got Runned Over By a Reindeer to Holly Jolly Christmas. Christmas is about the birth of Christ, and the rest of it is just marketing.
But this is not the only reason I will no longer listen to this station. Their contests verge on mean sometimes. Their music has been steadily moving in a direction I don't care for. One of their morning DJs in particular has become so militant I can hardly stand to listen to him some days. So after 20 years, I am telling this radio station "good-bye" and I am moving on to something else.
While I like NPR, I don't particularly like waking up to it. It is nothing but news at that hour and I need a little while to get myself together before being bombarded with the latest crime wave or economic disaster or war or pandemic. So I am thinking now what I need is a whole new wake-up method. Maybe some kind of player for my IPod so I can wake up to something I actually want to hear.
Or maybe I'll just put my clock radio on the buzzer, and let that be my morning song.
On Monday, the song that greeted me was a holiday tune. I knew immediately that the station had switched to its Christmas music mix - and it was only November 16. I grabbed my glasses and fumbled with the clock radio dial until I found NPR.
And there it will stay.
I have had it with this station. I love Christmas carols as much as the next person but not before Thanksgiving. That's just too soon. It's bad enough in the stores; I don't need it piped into my house, and I will not tolerate it.
How can a holiday be special if you celebrate it with so much crass commercialism? It's not like they're just playing O Holy Night the entire time, no. They are playing the whole mess, from Grandma Got Runned Over By a Reindeer to Holly Jolly Christmas. Christmas is about the birth of Christ, and the rest of it is just marketing.
But this is not the only reason I will no longer listen to this station. Their contests verge on mean sometimes. Their music has been steadily moving in a direction I don't care for. One of their morning DJs in particular has become so militant I can hardly stand to listen to him some days. So after 20 years, I am telling this radio station "good-bye" and I am moving on to something else.
While I like NPR, I don't particularly like waking up to it. It is nothing but news at that hour and I need a little while to get myself together before being bombarded with the latest crime wave or economic disaster or war or pandemic. So I am thinking now what I need is a whole new wake-up method. Maybe some kind of player for my IPod so I can wake up to something I actually want to hear.
Or maybe I'll just put my clock radio on the buzzer, and let that be my morning song.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
A Poem
The day is nearly done.
The sky, grey with clouds, dims.
Wind whistles among the house eaves.
Deer dance in the front yard,
their victory over the earth
a celebration of life.
The sky, grey with clouds, dims.
Wind whistles among the house eaves.
Deer dance in the front yard,
their victory over the earth
a celebration of life.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Book: When Panic Attacks
When Panic Attacks CD: The New, Drug-Free Anxiety Treatments That Can Change Your Life [ABRIDGED] [AUDIOBOOK] (Audio CD)
By David D. Burns
Read by Sam Freed
3 hours
The nonfiction audio book suppy at the Fincastle Library is pretty dismal, and when I was in there a few weeks ago looking for something to listen to in the car I came away with this.
I haven't had something that I called a panic attack in many years, but there was a time when I couldn't go into Walmart without feeling like I needed to flee the store. But then again, it was Walmart. That alone is enough to send a body screaming out into the parking lot.
The CD is a synopsis of the book and I suspect one would be better off buying the book and reading it if there is a problem in need of addressing. The CD had a lot of testimonials and stories about people with problems and how Burns' counseling techniques helped over come them.
I was particularly intrigued by some of the journaling methods he mentioned and may at some point look for the book just for those. I like to try new things in my private journal.
Your feelings are your thoughts is the basic premise of this book as well as the first one, Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy. I read that a long time ago but it has been so many years I couldn't tell you what it said. It is probably something I should revisit from time to time.
By David D. Burns
Read by Sam Freed
3 hours
The nonfiction audio book suppy at the Fincastle Library is pretty dismal, and when I was in there a few weeks ago looking for something to listen to in the car I came away with this.
I haven't had something that I called a panic attack in many years, but there was a time when I couldn't go into Walmart without feeling like I needed to flee the store. But then again, it was Walmart. That alone is enough to send a body screaming out into the parking lot.
The CD is a synopsis of the book and I suspect one would be better off buying the book and reading it if there is a problem in need of addressing. The CD had a lot of testimonials and stories about people with problems and how Burns' counseling techniques helped over come them.
I was particularly intrigued by some of the journaling methods he mentioned and may at some point look for the book just for those. I like to try new things in my private journal.
Your feelings are your thoughts is the basic premise of this book as well as the first one, Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy. I read that a long time ago but it has been so many years I couldn't tell you what it said. It is probably something I should revisit from time to time.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Thursday Thirteen #113
Here's a Thursday Thirteen that takes a look at routine, normal work day for me, as my life is now without so many articles for newspapers to write.
1. Get up, drink a cup of decaf tea, and hit the treadmill. Walk, walk.
2. Shower and have breakfast, which usually consists of an egg, V8 juice, and a banana. I read The Roanoke Times, which these days doesn't take as long as it used to, and make notes if there are any stories that I think might be a good idea for an article or even a poem or short story or that not-yet-started novel.
3. Check emails. Respond to anything that requires attention.
4. Write a blog entry.
5. Read other blogs (see my side bar on the right for some of the blogs I enjoy).
6. Work on an article. This might be making phone calls, querying an editor about a new story idea, going to interview someone, or researching something online or in a book.
7. It should be about 11:30 a.m. now, and the phone will ring and it will be my husband if he at work.
8. Lunch. This is my most difficult meal. I am dieting and lately have been eating a lot of tuna salad or salads. Today I want something, hot, though, because it is wet and windy. Empty the dishwasher and clean up the kitchen.
9. Check emails again, and respond to anything that requires attention. Throw clothes in the washing machine as required.
10. Back to work on articles. Generally this is where I should be working on a novel or something, I think. Some long-term project. Right now these hours are rather nebulous for me since my workload is not what it once was. Some days I read, some times I garden, sometimes I just piddle around on the computer until the hours are gone.
11. Return phone calls.
12. Prepare dinner.
13. Watch TV or read.
Pretty boring, eh?
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 113!
1. Get up, drink a cup of decaf tea, and hit the treadmill. Walk, walk.
2. Shower and have breakfast, which usually consists of an egg, V8 juice, and a banana. I read The Roanoke Times, which these days doesn't take as long as it used to, and make notes if there are any stories that I think might be a good idea for an article or even a poem or short story or that not-yet-started novel.
3. Check emails. Respond to anything that requires attention.
4. Write a blog entry.
5. Read other blogs (see my side bar on the right for some of the blogs I enjoy).
6. Work on an article. This might be making phone calls, querying an editor about a new story idea, going to interview someone, or researching something online or in a book.
7. It should be about 11:30 a.m. now, and the phone will ring and it will be my husband if he at work.
8. Lunch. This is my most difficult meal. I am dieting and lately have been eating a lot of tuna salad or salads. Today I want something, hot, though, because it is wet and windy. Empty the dishwasher and clean up the kitchen.
9. Check emails again, and respond to anything that requires attention. Throw clothes in the washing machine as required.
10. Back to work on articles. Generally this is where I should be working on a novel or something, I think. Some long-term project. Right now these hours are rather nebulous for me since my workload is not what it once was. Some days I read, some times I garden, sometimes I just piddle around on the computer until the hours are gone.
11. Return phone calls.
12. Prepare dinner.
13. Watch TV or read.
Pretty boring, eh?
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 113!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Praying for Aunt Jenny
James' aunt underwent pancreatic surgery yesterday. This is an involved surgery called a "whipple" procedure. It takes six to eight hours to complete, which is a long time to be under anesthesia. The pancreas is an organ in the middle of the body so getting to it is quite an involved process.
The procedure, the most common operation for pancreatic cancer, involves removal of the pancreas, a portion of the stomach, the duodenum, common bile duct, gallbladder and surrounding lymph nodes.
Then everything must be reconstructed and put back together. It is one of the most complicated and severe surgeries out there.
The news on Aunt Jenny is good. She survived the surgery, which, considering her advanced years (she's 78), was a worry. The doctor thinks that he removed all the cancer, which is also a good thing. Still, once she has healed from the surgery (in about 7 weeks) she will have to undergo chemotherapy and radiation.
Pancreatic cancer is the disease that killed my mother, so this has been somewhat traumatic for me. Lots of memories and thinking back on a terrible year of my life - the last year of my mother's life. It was a rough time; my mother did not fair well with the surgery and had complications that resulted in her spending that last year with a feeding tube. She could not eat or keep down food and her discomfort was great.
My mother's cancer was not removed with surgery, though at the time they thought they "had got it all," too. Instead it turned up in her liver and in her other lymph nodes and soon she was eaten up with cancer. She did not respond at all to chemo and radiation therapy. I remember my grandmother's lament that she knew the drugs weren't working because my mother's hair never fell out.
I am seriously praying that Aunt Jenny does not experience any complications from her surgery because it only makes matter worse.
Aunt Jenny is not my mother, and I am hopeful that this will turn out to have a happy ending. Aunt Jenny is a dear woman, someone who welcomed me into my husband's family with open arms and a hug and a kiss. Not everybody is so accepting and I have always appreciated that.
I also have known her since second grade, when she was a substitute teacher, and that is about 40 years. That is a very long time to know someone.
If you pray I hope you will take a moment and offer up a thought of love for Aunt Jenny. She is in a tough battle and can use all the good vibes she can get.
The procedure, the most common operation for pancreatic cancer, involves removal of the pancreas, a portion of the stomach, the duodenum, common bile duct, gallbladder and surrounding lymph nodes.
Then everything must be reconstructed and put back together. It is one of the most complicated and severe surgeries out there.
The news on Aunt Jenny is good. She survived the surgery, which, considering her advanced years (she's 78), was a worry. The doctor thinks that he removed all the cancer, which is also a good thing. Still, once she has healed from the surgery (in about 7 weeks) she will have to undergo chemotherapy and radiation.
Pancreatic cancer is the disease that killed my mother, so this has been somewhat traumatic for me. Lots of memories and thinking back on a terrible year of my life - the last year of my mother's life. It was a rough time; my mother did not fair well with the surgery and had complications that resulted in her spending that last year with a feeding tube. She could not eat or keep down food and her discomfort was great.
My mother's cancer was not removed with surgery, though at the time they thought they "had got it all," too. Instead it turned up in her liver and in her other lymph nodes and soon she was eaten up with cancer. She did not respond at all to chemo and radiation therapy. I remember my grandmother's lament that she knew the drugs weren't working because my mother's hair never fell out.
I am seriously praying that Aunt Jenny does not experience any complications from her surgery because it only makes matter worse.
Aunt Jenny is not my mother, and I am hopeful that this will turn out to have a happy ending. Aunt Jenny is a dear woman, someone who welcomed me into my husband's family with open arms and a hug and a kiss. Not everybody is so accepting and I have always appreciated that.
I also have known her since second grade, when she was a substitute teacher, and that is about 40 years. That is a very long time to know someone.
If you pray I hope you will take a moment and offer up a thought of love for Aunt Jenny. She is in a tough battle and can use all the good vibes she can get.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Thursday Thirteen
Things about November....
1. Foggy mornings
2. Turning up the heat
3. Hearing the cold wind howl around the corner of the porch
4. Big fat moons
5. Long, drawn out shadows
6. Light blue skies
7. My 26th anniversary
8. Autumn reaches the valleys.
9. Giving thanks for the many joys in my life
10. Snuggles beneath the covers to keep warm
11. Pumpkin pie
12. Holiday shopping
13. That certain slant of light
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 113!
1. Foggy mornings
2. Turning up the heat
3. Hearing the cold wind howl around the corner of the porch
4. Big fat moons
5. Long, drawn out shadows
6. Light blue skies
7. My 26th anniversary
8. Autumn reaches the valleys.
9. Giving thanks for the many joys in my life
10. Snuggles beneath the covers to keep warm
11. Pumpkin pie
12. Holiday shopping
13. That certain slant of light
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 113!
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
What would you do?
One of the radio stations is running a contest. If you hear your name and call in, you get on the "payroll" and win $50. You receive an additional $50 for every hour that goes by and the person whose name is called does not respond within the allotted 10 minutes.
This is a game that rewards you for someone else's bit of misfortune. Because the person whose name is called doesn't listen to the radio station or can't get to the phone or whatever, you receive more money.
I started wondering what someone would do if they were the person who was winning and the next name called out belonged to someone they knew?
Would you hope they don't call in, thereby missing out on $50?
Would you call your friend and tell them to call in right away and get the money, which means you would not get another $50?
If your friend was well off, would it matter as to how you responded?
What if it was someone who had lost their job? Would the circumstances matter?
And what difference does it make if you know the person or not?
This is a game that rewards you for someone else's bit of misfortune. Because the person whose name is called doesn't listen to the radio station or can't get to the phone or whatever, you receive more money.
I started wondering what someone would do if they were the person who was winning and the next name called out belonged to someone they knew?
Would you hope they don't call in, thereby missing out on $50?
Would you call your friend and tell them to call in right away and get the money, which means you would not get another $50?
If your friend was well off, would it matter as to how you responded?
What if it was someone who had lost their job? Would the circumstances matter?
And what difference does it make if you know the person or not?
Monday, November 02, 2009
Books: Sex and the Seasoned Woman
Sex and the Seasoned Woman: Pursuing the Passionate Life
By Gail Sheehy
Audiobook read by the author
Copyright 2007
This book is not about how to marinate prior to getting it on or anything like that; instead, it's about women of a certain age. That would be ladies such as myself who are 45 and over, though this book was written more for women over 50. I am not quite there.
Sheehy seems surprised to find out that other women besides herself continue to have sex and fulfilling lives beyond the age of 35. This newsflash seemed a little perplexing to me, considering Sheehy's feminist narrative in previous books.
Anyway, she interviews a lot of women about their love lives, offering up stories about stale marriages that find new life when children grow up, women who divorce and find new loves, that type of thing. She talks about cultivating a new dream in your second adulthood, which seems like a good idea but there was nothing at all here in terms of a roadmap. I think she was talking about that in terms of intimacy more so than in, say, a career, or a new hobby or something. I was looking for something more along those lines when I picked up the book.
She goes into detail about vaginal health and hormone therapy and actually advises women to dismiss studies that indicated hormones offer few benefits. According to her, the study was overblown in the media and the results actually offered proof of good things. I haven't read the study but this did raise my eyebrows. I will have to look this up.
I did not really learn anything from this book but women who are having trouble in their marriages and who are looking for the strength to move away from that may find it beneficial. It may also give a little encouragement to women who think that life is over just because they've hit menopause.
By Gail Sheehy
Audiobook read by the author
Copyright 2007
This book is not about how to marinate prior to getting it on or anything like that; instead, it's about women of a certain age. That would be ladies such as myself who are 45 and over, though this book was written more for women over 50. I am not quite there.
Sheehy seems surprised to find out that other women besides herself continue to have sex and fulfilling lives beyond the age of 35. This newsflash seemed a little perplexing to me, considering Sheehy's feminist narrative in previous books.
Anyway, she interviews a lot of women about their love lives, offering up stories about stale marriages that find new life when children grow up, women who divorce and find new loves, that type of thing. She talks about cultivating a new dream in your second adulthood, which seems like a good idea but there was nothing at all here in terms of a roadmap. I think she was talking about that in terms of intimacy more so than in, say, a career, or a new hobby or something. I was looking for something more along those lines when I picked up the book.
She goes into detail about vaginal health and hormone therapy and actually advises women to dismiss studies that indicated hormones offer few benefits. According to her, the study was overblown in the media and the results actually offered proof of good things. I haven't read the study but this did raise my eyebrows. I will have to look this up.
I did not really learn anything from this book but women who are having trouble in their marriages and who are looking for the strength to move away from that may find it beneficial. It may also give a little encouragement to women who think that life is over just because they've hit menopause.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Remembering a Halloween
My favorite Halloween occurred when I was a teenager. My friend Revonda and I ventured out to a haunted house, I think it was in Vinton.
The haunted house was properly spooky; lots of blood and gore. We clung to one another as we wandered through, shrieking at the appropriate moment.
Near the end, a werewolf came after us. He growled, snarled and then removed his mask. "I've been watching you two. You chicks look hot," he said (or something like that). "Wanna meet me after I get done here? I'll give you a real treat."
Yes, the werewolf tried to pick us up. He was really on the, um, prowl. We declined as we both had curfews. Not that we would do anything like that, anyway. We were good girls.
I think about my friend every year at this time. I haven't seen her since about 1985. After I graduated we stayed in touch; I floundered around, much as I am now, in an effort to find my niche, and she went to William and Mary to study public administration.
In 1982 I drove to Williamsburg and visited with her for a weekend. I had just met my future husband-to-be, though I didn't know that yet, and so we were all girl-giggly over the prospect of my having a steady fellow.
Revonda never returned to Roanoke. She married and lived in Norfolk a while, then moved to North Carolina where she divorced, and is now in Montana with her second husband. We send Christmas cards every year, and occasionally but not often exchange emails. She's definitely traveled around much more than I, and I suppose maybe lived more than I. She's some kind of top official where she lives.
A few weeks ago on a Sunday afternoon, I looked up her number and called her for no reason other than it was October and I was thinking of her. We had a nice long chat, catching up on family and friends.
We both remembered the night the werewolf tried to get us in the back seat of his car and wondered if the wolfman ever got his girl. I kind of doubt it; he definitely needed some new pick up lines!
The haunted house was properly spooky; lots of blood and gore. We clung to one another as we wandered through, shrieking at the appropriate moment.
Near the end, a werewolf came after us. He growled, snarled and then removed his mask. "I've been watching you two. You chicks look hot," he said (or something like that). "Wanna meet me after I get done here? I'll give you a real treat."
Yes, the werewolf tried to pick us up. He was really on the, um, prowl. We declined as we both had curfews. Not that we would do anything like that, anyway. We were good girls.
I think about my friend every year at this time. I haven't seen her since about 1985. After I graduated we stayed in touch; I floundered around, much as I am now, in an effort to find my niche, and she went to William and Mary to study public administration.
In 1982 I drove to Williamsburg and visited with her for a weekend. I had just met my future husband-to-be, though I didn't know that yet, and so we were all girl-giggly over the prospect of my having a steady fellow.
Revonda never returned to Roanoke. She married and lived in Norfolk a while, then moved to North Carolina where she divorced, and is now in Montana with her second husband. We send Christmas cards every year, and occasionally but not often exchange emails. She's definitely traveled around much more than I, and I suppose maybe lived more than I. She's some kind of top official where she lives.
A few weeks ago on a Sunday afternoon, I looked up her number and called her for no reason other than it was October and I was thinking of her. We had a nice long chat, catching up on family and friends.
We both remembered the night the werewolf tried to get us in the back seat of his car and wondered if the wolfman ever got his girl. I kind of doubt it; he definitely needed some new pick up lines!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Haunted Fincastle
The old jail in Fincastle. It surely must have a ghost or two.
Saturday night my husband and I went on the Fincastle Ghost Walk. Central Academy Middle School students hosted the event as a fundraiser.
I have been on this ghost walk several times, always before as a reporter for the paper. This year I was just a person!
The walk took in the ghosts at the Courthouse, the ghost at the Hayth Hotel, a story about an old woman who died the middle of the road on Back Street, the Kyle House, which is reportedly haunted by a number of ghosts, the Godwin Cemetery, The Figgat House (the Tuckers' current residence - Terry did a great job as the ghost) and the Douglas Building.
I took pictures but most of them did not come out. I also didn't get any weird orbs or anything like that. Too bad!
Above is a bad shot of the rear of the Methodist Church from the cemetery. I am not sure what those blue lights are...
I leave you with a version of my favorite of the stories we heard:
A fiddler went up into Kelly's Hollow on his way to New Castle and stopped for a drink. The farmer invited the fiddler to spend the evening with him, since it is a long journey by foot.
The farmer told the fiddler about a secret cave he had on his property. The next morning the fiddler asked if he could see the cave.
The opening was small but they crawled in and found a huge cavern with many winding passageways leading away from it. "I wonder how my fiddle would sound in here," the fiddler said. He opened up his instrument case, put the fiddle to his chin, and began to play.
The echoes of the music were astoundingly beautiful and he played for hours. He began moving around while he played and soon vanished down a passageway. The farmer called for the fiddler to return, but he did not.
Finally the farmer left the cave and ran for help. Searchers turned out and began looking for the fiddler. Sometimes they could hear the sounds of his instrument but they could never find him. After three days they no longer heard the noises and they gave up.
But now late in the evenings when the wind is just right, travelers on the way to Kelly Hollow can hear the dancing tunes of the fiddler as he makes his way through the cave passages...
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Writing Workshop Success
My first writing workshop, The Business of Freelancing, was successful.
While I only had four students, for a first time I was quite pleased with the number. Since I am not used to public speaking or standing in front of people and offering up insights, this was a comfortable group for me.
Most notably, I never once felt the familiar flushing and self-consciousness that I generally experience when I am before a group. I was really pleased about that.
During the three hour session, I talked about the difficulties inherent in freelancing as well as the pleasures. I explained how to set up an office, keep records and be business-like.
I talked about query letters and courage. It takes a lot of courage to offer up a precious idea to an editor; it's a 50-50 shot at rejection, at after all. The editor will either say yes or no.
We also went over ways to gather your information, most particularly how to interview. It's easy to write an article if you have your information in front of you. A good interview is vital to a good article. This is important stuff if you want to be a freelance writer.
Two of the four ladies who attended are friends of mine; I am sure that went a long way toward helping me overcome my stage fright. I have treasured my relationship with both of these ladies for many years and I am grateful for their support.
This event was very good for my self-confidence and I may have discovered a new niche for myself. The ladies who attended said the information was good; one told me she learned more in the three hours with me than she had in two years' attendance at the Roanoke Writer's Conference. That made me feel good for sure.
*My friend Gwen Johnson took these pictures for me during the workshop break. My thanks to her for the pictures, her presence and her support.
While I only had four students, for a first time I was quite pleased with the number. Since I am not used to public speaking or standing in front of people and offering up insights, this was a comfortable group for me.
Most notably, I never once felt the familiar flushing and self-consciousness that I generally experience when I am before a group. I was really pleased about that.
During the three hour session, I talked about the difficulties inherent in freelancing as well as the pleasures. I explained how to set up an office, keep records and be business-like.
I talked about query letters and courage. It takes a lot of courage to offer up a precious idea to an editor; it's a 50-50 shot at rejection, at after all. The editor will either say yes or no.
We also went over ways to gather your information, most particularly how to interview. It's easy to write an article if you have your information in front of you. A good interview is vital to a good article. This is important stuff if you want to be a freelance writer.
Two of the four ladies who attended are friends of mine; I am sure that went a long way toward helping me overcome my stage fright. I have treasured my relationship with both of these ladies for many years and I am grateful for their support.
This event was very good for my self-confidence and I may have discovered a new niche for myself. The ladies who attended said the information was good; one told me she learned more in the three hours with me than she had in two years' attendance at the Roanoke Writer's Conference. That made me feel good for sure.
*My friend Gwen Johnson took these pictures for me during the workshop break. My thanks to her for the pictures, her presence and her support.
Friday, October 23, 2009
A dash of salt
Recent problems with my blood pressure have forced me to read a new line on food labels. Now I look for sodium content.
My doctor told me not to eat anything with over 500 mgs of sodium in it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to eat a low sodium diet when you're not much of a cook and when you eat nearly every meal alone?
Sodium is in everything. Canned goods. Soups. Practically every frozen TV dinner. Rice-a-Roni has 1100 mgs a serving! It's nothing but salt. (I mention that because it is among the highest I've found.)
Capt'n Crunch cereal has 200 mgs of sodium. Most cereals seem to be okay if you go by the under 500 mg guidelines. Unfortunately I don't eat a lot of cereals, not because I don't like them but because I stay away from gluten. That means I eat very little wheat and I limit oats. Rice and corn don't seem to bother me, leaving me a choice of Corn Flakes or Rice Krispies in the cereal isle. I do eat Bob's Gluten Free hot cereal in the winter and enjoy that. I need to remember to check the salt content on it and buy some if it's an allowed food.
What I'm learning is that if I eat any processed or pre-packaged food, I need to limit it to one a day. Otherwise I get too much sodium. That means I really need to limit how often I eat out, as well. Fortunately I only eat a meal out no more than twice a week, but still.
Chocolate, fortunately, has very little sodium (but lots of sugar, carbs and calories, of course). I also have learned that dark chocolate, which, thankfully, I like, can help lower blood pressure.
Granola bars also have very little sodium, I have found.
As for meats, ham is out (and I love ham). Actually, all deli meats are out, leaving me with the chore of cooking pork and chicken. I try not to eat red meat more than once a week.
Eating healthy when you haven't really focused on it is quite difficult. I am very envious of people who can do it and make it seem so easy.
If you have advice on how to better deal with sodium content in food, leave a comment. I'm trying very hard and willing to listen to most anything.
My doctor told me not to eat anything with over 500 mgs of sodium in it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to eat a low sodium diet when you're not much of a cook and when you eat nearly every meal alone?
Sodium is in everything. Canned goods. Soups. Practically every frozen TV dinner. Rice-a-Roni has 1100 mgs a serving! It's nothing but salt. (I mention that because it is among the highest I've found.)
Capt'n Crunch cereal has 200 mgs of sodium. Most cereals seem to be okay if you go by the under 500 mg guidelines. Unfortunately I don't eat a lot of cereals, not because I don't like them but because I stay away from gluten. That means I eat very little wheat and I limit oats. Rice and corn don't seem to bother me, leaving me a choice of Corn Flakes or Rice Krispies in the cereal isle. I do eat Bob's Gluten Free hot cereal in the winter and enjoy that. I need to remember to check the salt content on it and buy some if it's an allowed food.
What I'm learning is that if I eat any processed or pre-packaged food, I need to limit it to one a day. Otherwise I get too much sodium. That means I really need to limit how often I eat out, as well. Fortunately I only eat a meal out no more than twice a week, but still.
Chocolate, fortunately, has very little sodium (but lots of sugar, carbs and calories, of course). I also have learned that dark chocolate, which, thankfully, I like, can help lower blood pressure.
Granola bars also have very little sodium, I have found.
As for meats, ham is out (and I love ham). Actually, all deli meats are out, leaving me with the chore of cooking pork and chicken. I try not to eat red meat more than once a week.
Eating healthy when you haven't really focused on it is quite difficult. I am very envious of people who can do it and make it seem so easy.
If you have advice on how to better deal with sodium content in food, leave a comment. I'm trying very hard and willing to listen to most anything.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Thursday Thirteen
For today, I offer up a study of light (or perhaps: scenes from my life).
1.
Remnants of a beech tree.
2.
A six-point buck caught in the fading sun.
3.
The Godwin Cemetery in Fincastle.
4.
Sunrise over the Peaks of Otter this morning (7:20 a.m.).
5.
The Town of Fincastle from Cemetery Hill at Godwin Cemetery.
6.
Fincastle Methodist Church at Godwin Cemetery.
7.
Most of my husband's relatives are buried here, including his grandparents.
8.
My husband's family farm.
9.
Aunt Jenny's house on the other side of the farm.
10.
The old chicken coop as seen through the oak trees.
11.
Light on leaves.
12.
More light on leaves.
13.
A squirrel that barked at me for a very long time.
1.
Remnants of a beech tree.
2.
A six-point buck caught in the fading sun.
3.
The Godwin Cemetery in Fincastle.
4.
Sunrise over the Peaks of Otter this morning (7:20 a.m.).
5.
The Town of Fincastle from Cemetery Hill at Godwin Cemetery.
6.
Fincastle Methodist Church at Godwin Cemetery.
7.
Most of my husband's relatives are buried here, including his grandparents.
8.
My husband's family farm.
9.
Aunt Jenny's house on the other side of the farm.
10.
The old chicken coop as seen through the oak trees.
11.
Light on leaves.
12.
More light on leaves.
13.
A squirrel that barked at me for a very long time.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 112!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
In the year 12525 (A rough draft of some fiction)
A historian in 12525 puzzled over over what few remnants of relics from the year 2009 he could find:
"He tweeted this response..."
The historian read that and scratched his head. He had seen several references to this type of speech or writing in this stack of ancient scribbles. Tweeted?
He wondered if it was possible if humans 10,000 years ago were kin to birds and thus talked in some kind of bird language. Based on the number of tweets referenced, he thought this highly likely.
"His classmates left messages for him on his FB page."
He'd seen the FB initialization several times before. More head scratching. He believed this to be a reference to something he'd seen called a "Facebook." This, he thought, must be some kind of scrap book or photo album. It might even reference the little boxes.
Those little boxes puzzled him, and turned to a set of photos. Picture after picture showed a single skeleton sitting before a flat boxes. The photos were taken at a recently uncovered archaeological site. The dig had produced a large structure that had been buried for centuries in rubble. It had yielded dozens of rooms with the same scenario: people sitting before movable little boxes. Other had small little boxes in their hands. Some folks lay on bed-like structures in front of still another kind of box.
It had to be some kind of worship ceremony, he decided. This box must be an altar. He made copious notes in preparation for a paper on religion in the year 2000.
This was part of his paper:
"Early mankind worshipped constantly at the base of some kind of box, which was named for the deity being worshipped. Humans in 2000 worshipped an entire pantheon of deities who went by the names of Dell, Gateway, Hewlett-Packard, e-Machine, and Apple. Handheld worship boxes carried names such as Blackberry, Razar, iPhone, Sprint and Nokia. A third type of box, similar to the first, carried the names of RCA, Zenith, Samsung, Sony, Sharp and Mitsubishi."
After looking at the way the skeletons were poised and cuddling various boxes, he wrote this:
"Apple and Blackberry appear to be very highly regarded gods; since these are named after foods this makes sense. Sustenance based worship is of course representative of survival and it is only natural that these gods would be considered foremost in the pantheon."
Since so many of the folks were in the large building, he determined that everyone must have been inside worshipping at a given hour. The structure could have been some sort of church, he surmised, and the folks laying down and looking at boxes were invalids receiving healing. He bent over his paper and surmised that RCA, Zenith, etc. were the healing gods of the year 2000.
The disaster that buried the building must have taken everyone at once and given no warning, for few people had risen from their worship to leave, he thought. That lent itself to a very sophisticated weaponry, the kind outlawed in the Human Rights Code of 10528.
He went back to his paper.
"Lack of communication, because humans used sounds akin to bird language (calling it "tweets" in written language) along with an intense focus on worship of great number of gods who were symbolized by boxes, obviously led to this civilization's demise."
"He tweeted this response..."
The historian read that and scratched his head. He had seen several references to this type of speech or writing in this stack of ancient scribbles. Tweeted?
He wondered if it was possible if humans 10,000 years ago were kin to birds and thus talked in some kind of bird language. Based on the number of tweets referenced, he thought this highly likely.
"His classmates left messages for him on his FB page."
He'd seen the FB initialization several times before. More head scratching. He believed this to be a reference to something he'd seen called a "Facebook." This, he thought, must be some kind of scrap book or photo album. It might even reference the little boxes.
Those little boxes puzzled him, and turned to a set of photos. Picture after picture showed a single skeleton sitting before a flat boxes. The photos were taken at a recently uncovered archaeological site. The dig had produced a large structure that had been buried for centuries in rubble. It had yielded dozens of rooms with the same scenario: people sitting before movable little boxes. Other had small little boxes in their hands. Some folks lay on bed-like structures in front of still another kind of box.
It had to be some kind of worship ceremony, he decided. This box must be an altar. He made copious notes in preparation for a paper on religion in the year 2000.
This was part of his paper:
"Early mankind worshipped constantly at the base of some kind of box, which was named for the deity being worshipped. Humans in 2000 worshipped an entire pantheon of deities who went by the names of Dell, Gateway, Hewlett-Packard, e-Machine, and Apple. Handheld worship boxes carried names such as Blackberry, Razar, iPhone, Sprint and Nokia. A third type of box, similar to the first, carried the names of RCA, Zenith, Samsung, Sony, Sharp and Mitsubishi."
After looking at the way the skeletons were poised and cuddling various boxes, he wrote this:
"Apple and Blackberry appear to be very highly regarded gods; since these are named after foods this makes sense. Sustenance based worship is of course representative of survival and it is only natural that these gods would be considered foremost in the pantheon."
Since so many of the folks were in the large building, he determined that everyone must have been inside worshipping at a given hour. The structure could have been some sort of church, he surmised, and the folks laying down and looking at boxes were invalids receiving healing. He bent over his paper and surmised that RCA, Zenith, etc. were the healing gods of the year 2000.
The disaster that buried the building must have taken everyone at once and given no warning, for few people had risen from their worship to leave, he thought. That lent itself to a very sophisticated weaponry, the kind outlawed in the Human Rights Code of 10528.
He went back to his paper.
"Lack of communication, because humans used sounds akin to bird language (calling it "tweets" in written language) along with an intense focus on worship of great number of gods who were symbolized by boxes, obviously led to this civilization's demise."
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Old buildings
These are images I grew up with; both of these buildings are on my father's property.
The first is the barn where he stored hay and where the horses and ponies stayed when I was young.
The second is used now for storage but it once was an old cannery, and thus a place of employment for many women in the early 1900s.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Making Changes
First I decided to stop reading fiction. I made this decision while we were at the beach and I was ravenously devouring books.
During this period I was also thinking about what I would like to write. I thought I might return to my fantasy novel, and then I read a fantasy by someone else that touched on some of the themes of my book. I thought she did it better than I ever would, and my decision wavered.
So I thought, I shall not read any fiction for awhile. I have stories in me, I just know I do, but maybe they are drowning in other people's thoughts. Maybe if I don't read fiction for a while (the time was not specified) I would clear my head and find some kernel in my brains that I could develop into my own story.
But a reader cannot simply NOT read, so after we returned home on September 5, I turned to nonfiction. I have read a lot of magazines, blogs, online newspapers, etc. and listened to nonfiction books on tape in the car. Sometimes I think maybe I'd better take up counted cross stitch or something because TV at night is certainly very bad, but I haven't done that - yet.
On September 10 I decided it was time to do something about my weight. I am obese, which is just another word for fat. How I got here is a long story, one that began in 1983 when I started on birth control pills when I married. That put on 10 pounds; then our efforts to have a baby failed, which made me depressed, and that combined with the infertility drugs added more pounds, then after six surgeries came the hysterectomy at the tender age of 29 and the Premarin, which added even MORE pounds (I no longer take that but still take a plant-based estrogen called Estrace, though in tiny amounts, which I suspect doesn't help).
And of course I never learned to exercise and eat properly growing up; my mother did not fix us breakfast or attend to the food groups; my grandmother thought macaroni and cheese was one of the basic requirements of life, and no one in my family exercised. So it's a family thing; my brother, my aunt, my uncles, we all struggle with our weight. Genetics and poor familial habits, I guess.
So anyway, September found me not reading fiction and dieting. I have lost four pounds (which is sometimes five but I seem to keep regaining that one). One of the first nonfiction books I listened to was one of Dr. Atkins' books, because I know from past experience that limiting my carbs works a lot better than, say, a low fat diet, at least for me.
My exercise habits, alas, have suffered. I need to be walking every day if only for my blood pressure, which has decided to climb back up in spite of my medication and the loss of four little pounds. I have found it difficult to exercise for two reasons: my feet still trouble me (I have plantar fasciitis and a heel spur) and some mornings my chest hurts. I have a hiatal hernia and am pretty sure that is the chest pain but I have enough of a hypochondriac in me that it makes me anxious because of course I worry that it is my heart hurting. And who can exercise if you worry that if you start to sweat you will drop over dead? Which might be alright if I thought someone would find me quickly but that is not the case. It could be many hours before I am missed.
Another reason for my lack of exercise, though, is this blasted computer. This blog. Facebook. All of the great things to read online.
For at least a decade (maybe longer), I have turned the alarm off at 6 a.m., climbed from my bed, put on my robe, and stumbled into my office beside the bedroom and turned on the computer. Then I go make my morning decaf tea with a little drop of honey and return to the computer to read my email. For a few years (yes, really, years) I did this and then exercised, because if I don't exercise first thing I simply don't do it.
But in the last several months (probably since I lost my main client, but I am not sure of that) I have instead found myself reading things on the computer, writing a blog entry (as I am doing this morning), piddling on Facebook, or simply playing Spider Solitaire until I look at the clock and think, golly, I need to get a bath and get dressed or I will never get anything done today. And then I think, oh, I haven't exercised, I will do it at 4 p.m. or 5 p.m. or whatever, and of course I rarely do.
So it is time for another change. This is the last morning I stumble to the computer. Instead my plan is to keep away from the computer until after I've showered, which will occur after I've walked on the treadmill or done some other exercise. This is necessary for my overall health and well being and it is time I stop dilly-dallying around with something so vital and take care of it. Otherwise I will not live to see 50 and that's only four years away.
Having said that, if you see me online before 8 a.m. from now on, please gently remind me I am supposed to be doing something else, won't you?
During this period I was also thinking about what I would like to write. I thought I might return to my fantasy novel, and then I read a fantasy by someone else that touched on some of the themes of my book. I thought she did it better than I ever would, and my decision wavered.
So I thought, I shall not read any fiction for awhile. I have stories in me, I just know I do, but maybe they are drowning in other people's thoughts. Maybe if I don't read fiction for a while (the time was not specified) I would clear my head and find some kernel in my brains that I could develop into my own story.
But a reader cannot simply NOT read, so after we returned home on September 5, I turned to nonfiction. I have read a lot of magazines, blogs, online newspapers, etc. and listened to nonfiction books on tape in the car. Sometimes I think maybe I'd better take up counted cross stitch or something because TV at night is certainly very bad, but I haven't done that - yet.
On September 10 I decided it was time to do something about my weight. I am obese, which is just another word for fat. How I got here is a long story, one that began in 1983 when I started on birth control pills when I married. That put on 10 pounds; then our efforts to have a baby failed, which made me depressed, and that combined with the infertility drugs added more pounds, then after six surgeries came the hysterectomy at the tender age of 29 and the Premarin, which added even MORE pounds (I no longer take that but still take a plant-based estrogen called Estrace, though in tiny amounts, which I suspect doesn't help).
And of course I never learned to exercise and eat properly growing up; my mother did not fix us breakfast or attend to the food groups; my grandmother thought macaroni and cheese was one of the basic requirements of life, and no one in my family exercised. So it's a family thing; my brother, my aunt, my uncles, we all struggle with our weight. Genetics and poor familial habits, I guess.
So anyway, September found me not reading fiction and dieting. I have lost four pounds (which is sometimes five but I seem to keep regaining that one). One of the first nonfiction books I listened to was one of Dr. Atkins' books, because I know from past experience that limiting my carbs works a lot better than, say, a low fat diet, at least for me.
My exercise habits, alas, have suffered. I need to be walking every day if only for my blood pressure, which has decided to climb back up in spite of my medication and the loss of four little pounds. I have found it difficult to exercise for two reasons: my feet still trouble me (I have plantar fasciitis and a heel spur) and some mornings my chest hurts. I have a hiatal hernia and am pretty sure that is the chest pain but I have enough of a hypochondriac in me that it makes me anxious because of course I worry that it is my heart hurting. And who can exercise if you worry that if you start to sweat you will drop over dead? Which might be alright if I thought someone would find me quickly but that is not the case. It could be many hours before I am missed.
Another reason for my lack of exercise, though, is this blasted computer. This blog. Facebook. All of the great things to read online.
For at least a decade (maybe longer), I have turned the alarm off at 6 a.m., climbed from my bed, put on my robe, and stumbled into my office beside the bedroom and turned on the computer. Then I go make my morning decaf tea with a little drop of honey and return to the computer to read my email. For a few years (yes, really, years) I did this and then exercised, because if I don't exercise first thing I simply don't do it.
But in the last several months (probably since I lost my main client, but I am not sure of that) I have instead found myself reading things on the computer, writing a blog entry (as I am doing this morning), piddling on Facebook, or simply playing Spider Solitaire until I look at the clock and think, golly, I need to get a bath and get dressed or I will never get anything done today. And then I think, oh, I haven't exercised, I will do it at 4 p.m. or 5 p.m. or whatever, and of course I rarely do.
So it is time for another change. This is the last morning I stumble to the computer. Instead my plan is to keep away from the computer until after I've showered, which will occur after I've walked on the treadmill or done some other exercise. This is necessary for my overall health and well being and it is time I stop dilly-dallying around with something so vital and take care of it. Otherwise I will not live to see 50 and that's only four years away.
Having said that, if you see me online before 8 a.m. from now on, please gently remind me I am supposed to be doing something else, won't you?
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Thursday Thirteen
Random 13 today.
1. Yesterday I met Lenora at A Journal of Days. This very striking and handsome woman introduced herself to me in the library after overhearing my conversation with the staff genealogist. I was looking for information about a small diary that came into my possession this week and she had read my blog entry about it and guessed my identity. I was thrilled to meet her. Her blog is a fun and thought-provoking read. There is now only one other person on my Botetourt bloggers' list whom I have yet to meet.
2. Whitening strips make my teeth ache. I bought a box to try and daresay I wasted my money. I couldn't stand them on for more than 10 minutes. Apparently I have very sensitive teeth.
3. Last night was the first night for running the heat in the house; the temperature dropped below 40. I was hoping to go to October 15 before turning it on; I missed it by one day.
4. I am offering a course on "The Business of Freelancing" through the county Parks & Rec Department on October 24. It is at the Fincastle Library from 9 - 12:30 and costs $50. I already have about 20 pages of handouts and am working on more. I want to be sure participants get their money's worth.
5. I love my husband so much it hurts sometimes.
6. No fiction reading for me since September 10. I am hoping that if I empty my brain of other people's stories, my own story will find its way in and I will begin writing it. I don't know how much longer I can hold out on not reading a story, though. Not reading is hard work when you're an avid reader.
7. Nonfiction books on tape in the car and reading magazines and other nonfiction instead of fiction are now filling this strange period of my life. Maybe it will make me smarter.
8. I have struggled with exercise in recent weeks.
9. My blood pressure has become an issue again. Nobody told me blood pressure meds could work for a while and then ... not.
10. My car will be in the repair shop for several days next week, thanks to my October 4 accident wherein I backed into my husband's motorcycle. The damage estimates for both vehicles came to over $1,500. The motorcycle has yet to be fixed. What a lot of money to pay out for one careless mistake.
11. Good news on the work front; I picked up a new client yesterday.
12. I despise MS Office 2007. I have spent much of my time since July trying to learn this new interface. MS Office 2003 worked fine; why does Microsoft have to keep changing things? (Answer: so you'll have to spend money to buy the new product, that's why.) Not only have I found it difficult and less than intuitive, the changes I make to the normal template, particularly in paragraph spacing, simply will not hold. I have to change this every frickin time I open a new document. It is really irritating. Who designated a space between every paragraph and after every hard return should be the default, anyway?
13. Photo editing software that I actually like is hard to find. I've downloaded several of the free ones; so far I like Picasso the best of those but it has its limitations. I bought The Print Shop Deluxe a few weeks ago because it was on sale for next to nothing but it seems unwieldy to use.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 111!
1. Yesterday I met Lenora at A Journal of Days. This very striking and handsome woman introduced herself to me in the library after overhearing my conversation with the staff genealogist. I was looking for information about a small diary that came into my possession this week and she had read my blog entry about it and guessed my identity. I was thrilled to meet her. Her blog is a fun and thought-provoking read. There is now only one other person on my Botetourt bloggers' list whom I have yet to meet.
2. Whitening strips make my teeth ache. I bought a box to try and daresay I wasted my money. I couldn't stand them on for more than 10 minutes. Apparently I have very sensitive teeth.
3. Last night was the first night for running the heat in the house; the temperature dropped below 40. I was hoping to go to October 15 before turning it on; I missed it by one day.
4. I am offering a course on "The Business of Freelancing" through the county Parks & Rec Department on October 24. It is at the Fincastle Library from 9 - 12:30 and costs $50. I already have about 20 pages of handouts and am working on more. I want to be sure participants get their money's worth.
5. I love my husband so much it hurts sometimes.
6. No fiction reading for me since September 10. I am hoping that if I empty my brain of other people's stories, my own story will find its way in and I will begin writing it. I don't know how much longer I can hold out on not reading a story, though. Not reading is hard work when you're an avid reader.
7. Nonfiction books on tape in the car and reading magazines and other nonfiction instead of fiction are now filling this strange period of my life. Maybe it will make me smarter.
8. I have struggled with exercise in recent weeks.
9. My blood pressure has become an issue again. Nobody told me blood pressure meds could work for a while and then ... not.
10. My car will be in the repair shop for several days next week, thanks to my October 4 accident wherein I backed into my husband's motorcycle. The damage estimates for both vehicles came to over $1,500. The motorcycle has yet to be fixed. What a lot of money to pay out for one careless mistake.
11. Good news on the work front; I picked up a new client yesterday.
12. I despise MS Office 2007. I have spent much of my time since July trying to learn this new interface. MS Office 2003 worked fine; why does Microsoft have to keep changing things? (Answer: so you'll have to spend money to buy the new product, that's why.) Not only have I found it difficult and less than intuitive, the changes I make to the normal template, particularly in paragraph spacing, simply will not hold. I have to change this every frickin time I open a new document. It is really irritating. Who designated a space between every paragraph and after every hard return should be the default, anyway?
13. Photo editing software that I actually like is hard to find. I've downloaded several of the free ones; so far I like Picasso the best of those but it has its limitations. I bought The Print Shop Deluxe a few weeks ago because it was on sale for next to nothing but it seems unwieldy to use.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 111!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
An incredible find
A while back someone I know the next county over called me and told me he had found a small notebook at an auction.
It appeared to be a diary of a teenage girl, he said. He could not find a name of the writer but told me that the diarist mentioned folks by my last name quite a lot, so he wanted me to have the little notebook.
I picked it up yesterday. The notebook bears the date "1904" in pencil. It is a corporate hand-out of some kind, with a light brown cover. It is inscribed:
F.W. Brown, Dealer In Hardware, Cutlery, Plows, Farm Implemen (torn here), Paints, Oils, Glass, Putty, Re (torn here), Twines, Leather, Carpenters' Tools, Pipe and Fittings, Plumbers' Supplies, Etc., 11 Jefferson Street, Roanoke, VA. See Back Cover.
On the back it says:
McCormick Harvesting Machines, Steam Engines, Threshing Machines, Saw Mills, Engineers' Supplies
For me, history buff that I am, that would have been enough, really, to have found a small notebook that shows such a diverse hardware store from the early 1900s.
But inside? Oh wow.
Last night I read the little diary out loud to my husband. It is about 80 small pages, the paper being a little under 3" x 6", to the reading only took about a half-hour.
I believe the young woman's name is Carrie, but I don't know her last name. She lives with an aunt, an uncle and her brother, Grover. Her parents are both dead but it does not say how or when they died.
The little diary goes from September 28, 1904 to January 13, 1905. This is when she runs out of notebook and actually turns the diary to write up the side of the page.
She wrote it all in pencil and it is remarkably legible.
The family lives somewhere close to where I sit writing this blog. She talks about Fincastle, Trinity, and Woodland (which is less than a mile from me). She goes to the fair; she agonizes over her work, her relationship with her aunt (which apparently is not very good) and her brother's long absence when he leaves for Craig and Alleghany Counties to visit family.
She apparently is not a very good cook for she mentions failed recipes on several occasions, noting that some of her creations are completely inedible.
She writes about her efforts to be Christian (apparently this is very hard for her) and she is sick a lot with headaches and a pain in her chest. Apparently she is not bedridden for she talks about carrying water from the spring and visiting folks on occasion.
A song she wrote has found its way somewhere via an advertisement in a magazine, but it appears the folks she sent it to want money from her to do something else with it. Perhaps some kind of publication scam? She also replies to ad in a magazine that asks for someone to write letters. She hears back but must send in a dollar, which she does not have. She says she will not reply to any more advertisements in magazines after this.
During one entry she notes it is her birthday, and she is now 20 years old. She is also penniless. At Christmas she says all she wants is a writing tablet, which she does not get.
Best of all for us, one of the people she talks about seeing at Christmas is Guy Firebaugh. This is my husband' great-grandfather.
She mentions many other Firebaughs as well, all of whom must be great-aunts and uncles.
I will work this week to see if I can find an older relative who might know a little more. Perhaps I can learn this young woman's identity. If nothing else, this little diary has brought a piece of my husband's great-grandfather's life into his.
This has been the most incredible find.
It appeared to be a diary of a teenage girl, he said. He could not find a name of the writer but told me that the diarist mentioned folks by my last name quite a lot, so he wanted me to have the little notebook.
I picked it up yesterday. The notebook bears the date "1904" in pencil. It is a corporate hand-out of some kind, with a light brown cover. It is inscribed:
F.W. Brown, Dealer In Hardware, Cutlery, Plows, Farm Implemen (torn here), Paints, Oils, Glass, Putty, Re (torn here), Twines, Leather, Carpenters' Tools, Pipe and Fittings, Plumbers' Supplies, Etc., 11 Jefferson Street, Roanoke, VA. See Back Cover.
On the back it says:
McCormick Harvesting Machines, Steam Engines, Threshing Machines, Saw Mills, Engineers' Supplies
For me, history buff that I am, that would have been enough, really, to have found a small notebook that shows such a diverse hardware store from the early 1900s.
But inside? Oh wow.
Last night I read the little diary out loud to my husband. It is about 80 small pages, the paper being a little under 3" x 6", to the reading only took about a half-hour.
I believe the young woman's name is Carrie, but I don't know her last name. She lives with an aunt, an uncle and her brother, Grover. Her parents are both dead but it does not say how or when they died.
The little diary goes from September 28, 1904 to January 13, 1905. This is when she runs out of notebook and actually turns the diary to write up the side of the page.
She wrote it all in pencil and it is remarkably legible.
The family lives somewhere close to where I sit writing this blog. She talks about Fincastle, Trinity, and Woodland (which is less than a mile from me). She goes to the fair; she agonizes over her work, her relationship with her aunt (which apparently is not very good) and her brother's long absence when he leaves for Craig and Alleghany Counties to visit family.
She apparently is not a very good cook for she mentions failed recipes on several occasions, noting that some of her creations are completely inedible.
She writes about her efforts to be Christian (apparently this is very hard for her) and she is sick a lot with headaches and a pain in her chest. Apparently she is not bedridden for she talks about carrying water from the spring and visiting folks on occasion.
A song she wrote has found its way somewhere via an advertisement in a magazine, but it appears the folks she sent it to want money from her to do something else with it. Perhaps some kind of publication scam? She also replies to ad in a magazine that asks for someone to write letters. She hears back but must send in a dollar, which she does not have. She says she will not reply to any more advertisements in magazines after this.
During one entry she notes it is her birthday, and she is now 20 years old. She is also penniless. At Christmas she says all she wants is a writing tablet, which she does not get.
Best of all for us, one of the people she talks about seeing at Christmas is Guy Firebaugh. This is my husband' great-grandfather.
She mentions many other Firebaughs as well, all of whom must be great-aunts and uncles.
I will work this week to see if I can find an older relative who might know a little more. Perhaps I can learn this young woman's identity. If nothing else, this little diary has brought a piece of my husband's great-grandfather's life into his.
This has been the most incredible find.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
A word to renters
In the local daily yesterday, the pet columnist wrote about getting her cat declawed. What irked me was her nonchalant attitude toward her landlord.
This "mean" landlord had a no pet policy so the writer was forced, she said, to get her cat declawed in hopes of keeping the landlord from finding out she had a pet.
What part of "no pets" do people not understand? How was her breaking the rules the landlord's fault? She obviously lied about the cat to get in the place and then was unhappy because the landlord eventually found out about the cat and asked her to leave, in spite of the declawing. I'd have asked her to leave, too.
I have been a landlord through no fault of my own for about 10 years now. It is not a job I am particularly happy to have, but I deal with it.
Being a landlord means dealing with people who have absolutely no concern for your property. This is the house I grew up in. It is a valuable asset. I don't want to see it destroyed.
When I say "no pets" or even "one outside pet" or no smoking or don't park your car atop the septic tank, it is said for a reason.
Pets are hard on a place. They pee on the floor, they scratch things. They stink. But most important for me, I am highly allergic to them and when a renter has a pet in there and leaves, I have to hire someone to clear the place out because it will make me sick. It costs me money.
People who rent seem to have no regard for their landlord. This is a generalized and sweeping statement, I know, but it has been the truth so far in my experience with renters. Either they let the place fall down around them and don't call if the roof leaks or they call every time they need a light bulb changed, and they do that at 11 p.m. at night.
I guess renters make generalized and sweeping statements about landlords, as in, they're all bad and it's okay to try to outsmart them. But this is untrue as well.
My little old farmhouse is currently available to rent. I am a good landlord. If something breaks, I fix it. I do that within days, not in months. If you're late on the rent, I'm understanding until it becomes a monthly habit. I pay to have the house sprayed for bugs and rodents to be sure you're living in a clean environment (if the renter is a pig who doesn't know what a trash can is for I can't do much about that except ask them to leave).
I do ask my renters not to smoke inside. I prefer no pets but have given up trying to enforce that policy so I will allow a small animal with a $200 non-refundable deposit. Actually, at the moment if a no-smoking, no pet person wanted to rent the house right now, I might even cut a little off the monthly rent.
But don't lie to me because I'm your landlord. Don't tell me you have no pets and then bring in a dog. And certainly, don't blame me because you disobey the rules and have your cat declawed. In no way is that the landlord's fault. Look at yourself for that, dearie.
This house is for rent. It can be your home for $750 a month. Wonderful, caring landlord comes free.
This "mean" landlord had a no pet policy so the writer was forced, she said, to get her cat declawed in hopes of keeping the landlord from finding out she had a pet.
What part of "no pets" do people not understand? How was her breaking the rules the landlord's fault? She obviously lied about the cat to get in the place and then was unhappy because the landlord eventually found out about the cat and asked her to leave, in spite of the declawing. I'd have asked her to leave, too.
I have been a landlord through no fault of my own for about 10 years now. It is not a job I am particularly happy to have, but I deal with it.
Being a landlord means dealing with people who have absolutely no concern for your property. This is the house I grew up in. It is a valuable asset. I don't want to see it destroyed.
When I say "no pets" or even "one outside pet" or no smoking or don't park your car atop the septic tank, it is said for a reason.
Pets are hard on a place. They pee on the floor, they scratch things. They stink. But most important for me, I am highly allergic to them and when a renter has a pet in there and leaves, I have to hire someone to clear the place out because it will make me sick. It costs me money.
People who rent seem to have no regard for their landlord. This is a generalized and sweeping statement, I know, but it has been the truth so far in my experience with renters. Either they let the place fall down around them and don't call if the roof leaks or they call every time they need a light bulb changed, and they do that at 11 p.m. at night.
I guess renters make generalized and sweeping statements about landlords, as in, they're all bad and it's okay to try to outsmart them. But this is untrue as well.
My little old farmhouse is currently available to rent. I am a good landlord. If something breaks, I fix it. I do that within days, not in months. If you're late on the rent, I'm understanding until it becomes a monthly habit. I pay to have the house sprayed for bugs and rodents to be sure you're living in a clean environment (if the renter is a pig who doesn't know what a trash can is for I can't do much about that except ask them to leave).
I do ask my renters not to smoke inside. I prefer no pets but have given up trying to enforce that policy so I will allow a small animal with a $200 non-refundable deposit. Actually, at the moment if a no-smoking, no pet person wanted to rent the house right now, I might even cut a little off the monthly rent.
But don't lie to me because I'm your landlord. Don't tell me you have no pets and then bring in a dog. And certainly, don't blame me because you disobey the rules and have your cat declawed. In no way is that the landlord's fault. Look at yourself for that, dearie.
This house is for rent. It can be your home for $750 a month. Wonderful, caring landlord comes free.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Books: Positioning, The Battle for Your Mind
Positioning
The Battle for Your Mind
by Jack Trout & Al Ries
narrated by Bob Askey
Audiobook
Copyright 1989
This book is about advertising and how to jockey a product into the "number one" position.
Since this edition is pre-Internet, it doesn't even address the bombardment of advertisements folks are inundated with today.
The premise in this 1989 edition is that people are overwhelmed with too much information, particularly in advertising. There used to be three TV stations. Now there are 300. There are too many companies and products, too many choices.
It makes everyone scream and no one really hears.
So the idea is to get in the mind of the buyer and figure out how to make him/her want your product.
It was fun to listen to discussions of products that no longer exist (remember Nuprin?) and to better understand how some products have become number one and things one cannot do without.
In one of the last sections the authors talk about how to position yourself in your career. They advise you to "get on a horse and ride it" to success. In other words, find a strong and forward-moving company and become indepensible.
I think I will take a closer look at marketing theory; it is not something I have studied but I think it is something I could benefit from.
The Battle for Your Mind
by Jack Trout & Al Ries
narrated by Bob Askey
Audiobook
Copyright 1989
This book is about advertising and how to jockey a product into the "number one" position.
Since this edition is pre-Internet, it doesn't even address the bombardment of advertisements folks are inundated with today.
The premise in this 1989 edition is that people are overwhelmed with too much information, particularly in advertising. There used to be three TV stations. Now there are 300. There are too many companies and products, too many choices.
It makes everyone scream and no one really hears.
So the idea is to get in the mind of the buyer and figure out how to make him/her want your product.
It was fun to listen to discussions of products that no longer exist (remember Nuprin?) and to better understand how some products have become number one and things one cannot do without.
In one of the last sections the authors talk about how to position yourself in your career. They advise you to "get on a horse and ride it" to success. In other words, find a strong and forward-moving company and become indepensible.
I think I will take a closer look at marketing theory; it is not something I have studied but I think it is something I could benefit from.
Friday, October 09, 2009
Changing the Rules
Back in September, I went before the county Planning Commission to talk about an ordinance change they were proposing.
I had urged county officials to take a look at the county's home occupation ordinance. It had come to my attention through my work with the newspaper that this ordinance essentially made criminals out of folks who were doing eBay or other Internet businesses out of their home.
In other words, it was against the county's ordinances to sell stuff, even online. Even if you never bothered a single person because you carried your stuff to the post office, or better yet, just drop shipped it and never saw the product, you were still breaking the county's law.
About the time I was suggesting to county officials that they change this, a friend applied for a permit to sell over the Internet and was denied. I helped her contact her county supervisor to complain and she set about officially making the request for changes. It is always better if a citizen other than a representative of the press can be involved.
Anyway, it took county officials about five months to review the ordinance and offer up suggested changes. By this time I was no longer writing much for the local paper so I wasn't able to follow the story for my readers. However, being a self-employed business person who works from home I had a keen interest in any changes the county might want to make to this particular ordinance.
Some of the suggested changes did not suit me; they seemed punitive or unfair or unclear, so I wrote up a list of things that I thought were wrong and offered suggestions of my own and trotted off to the public hearing.
A few other folks talked but offered no solutions to their complaints and were vague about what they thought was wrong with the ordinance. My list was fairly long and was, frankly, a reworking of the entire offered document. I offered a solution to every objection. My changes were so many that the Planning Commission took no action but instead scheduled a work session on my proposed changes. They met two nights later.
The planning staff offered up a new version of the document at the work session. This one addressed just about every issue and concern I had raised, either by changing wording, clarifying, or eliminating various sentences.
In particular, the section about Internet business was stronger and more clear, as was a section on allowed personal services (such as, say, a beauty parlor or a tutor or dare I say, a writer?). At least now a person could sell on eBay without being convicted of a misdemeanor if caught. Although that person needs to have a home occupation permit and a business per county ordinances if they are to be legal.
The Planning Commission approved this document, and it went to a second public hearing before the Board of Supervisors a few day later. It passed without much ado and no additional changes.
Which goes to show, one person can indeed have an impact and an influence on important things.
I had urged county officials to take a look at the county's home occupation ordinance. It had come to my attention through my work with the newspaper that this ordinance essentially made criminals out of folks who were doing eBay or other Internet businesses out of their home.
In other words, it was against the county's ordinances to sell stuff, even online. Even if you never bothered a single person because you carried your stuff to the post office, or better yet, just drop shipped it and never saw the product, you were still breaking the county's law.
About the time I was suggesting to county officials that they change this, a friend applied for a permit to sell over the Internet and was denied. I helped her contact her county supervisor to complain and she set about officially making the request for changes. It is always better if a citizen other than a representative of the press can be involved.
Anyway, it took county officials about five months to review the ordinance and offer up suggested changes. By this time I was no longer writing much for the local paper so I wasn't able to follow the story for my readers. However, being a self-employed business person who works from home I had a keen interest in any changes the county might want to make to this particular ordinance.
Some of the suggested changes did not suit me; they seemed punitive or unfair or unclear, so I wrote up a list of things that I thought were wrong and offered suggestions of my own and trotted off to the public hearing.
A few other folks talked but offered no solutions to their complaints and were vague about what they thought was wrong with the ordinance. My list was fairly long and was, frankly, a reworking of the entire offered document. I offered a solution to every objection. My changes were so many that the Planning Commission took no action but instead scheduled a work session on my proposed changes. They met two nights later.
The planning staff offered up a new version of the document at the work session. This one addressed just about every issue and concern I had raised, either by changing wording, clarifying, or eliminating various sentences.
In particular, the section about Internet business was stronger and more clear, as was a section on allowed personal services (such as, say, a beauty parlor or a tutor or dare I say, a writer?). At least now a person could sell on eBay without being convicted of a misdemeanor if caught. Although that person needs to have a home occupation permit and a business per county ordinances if they are to be legal.
The Planning Commission approved this document, and it went to a second public hearing before the Board of Supervisors a few day later. It passed without much ado and no additional changes.
Which goes to show, one person can indeed have an impact and an influence on important things.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Thursday Thirteen
Today, I offer up 13 things I have purchased recently.
1. Weatherstripping. My husband built this house for us (really, with his own two hands!) in 1987. The windows really need to be replaced but that's expensive. So we bought weatherstripping in hopes of tightening them up.
2. A chuck roast. I purchased this yesterday at the supermarket, which had them marked down dramatically (from $12.30 to $6.70). We will have it on Saturday.
3. A candy bar. Okay, okay. I shouldn't be eating them at all. I had gone since September 10 without one while I try to diet. I've lost four pounds. It was a bad, but very tasty, reward.
4. Decaf Irish breakfast tea. I have a hard time finding this around here but ran across some in Roanoke at Ukrop's. Unfortunately that store is going out of business, so this may be the last of decaf Irish breakfast tea for a while.
5. A domain name. I am not in the habit of spending $10 for domains, but I recently made a purchase. When the site is active I'll share. I also renewed my husband's website, Septic Tank Advisor. Amazing.
6. Shoe inserts. These aren't for me but for my husband, who has started having trouble with his heel spur again. I will share that back in September when I was at the beach I bought inserts that have been very helpful for my plantar faciitis. You can find them online at happyfeet.net. Check them out if you have that particular problem. The website says it is also good for heel spurs, Morton's neuroma and other feet issues.
7. Copy paper. Because that is what I use in the printer.
8. The Print Shop Deluxe Version 23. I found this on sale for nearly nothing at Best Buy and bought it in hopes of using it as a photo editor. It is okay but not quite what I was looking for. It will do for a while.
9. Entrepreneur magazine. I don't normally buy this, but I saw it in the store and thought hey, maybe there's a new career for me in between those pages. There wasn't, but it was an interesting magazine.
10. Extra sugar free gum. I don't like to chew this but it's been helpful with my diet.
11. Christmas presents. Yes, I do my shopping early.
12. Lunch. Well, I do have to eat, don't I?
13. Flounder. It's my new and improved "eat fish" effort.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 110!
1. Weatherstripping. My husband built this house for us (really, with his own two hands!) in 1987. The windows really need to be replaced but that's expensive. So we bought weatherstripping in hopes of tightening them up.
2. A chuck roast. I purchased this yesterday at the supermarket, which had them marked down dramatically (from $12.30 to $6.70). We will have it on Saturday.
3. A candy bar. Okay, okay. I shouldn't be eating them at all. I had gone since September 10 without one while I try to diet. I've lost four pounds. It was a bad, but very tasty, reward.
4. Decaf Irish breakfast tea. I have a hard time finding this around here but ran across some in Roanoke at Ukrop's. Unfortunately that store is going out of business, so this may be the last of decaf Irish breakfast tea for a while.
5. A domain name. I am not in the habit of spending $10 for domains, but I recently made a purchase. When the site is active I'll share. I also renewed my husband's website, Septic Tank Advisor. Amazing.
6. Shoe inserts. These aren't for me but for my husband, who has started having trouble with his heel spur again. I will share that back in September when I was at the beach I bought inserts that have been very helpful for my plantar faciitis. You can find them online at happyfeet.net. Check them out if you have that particular problem. The website says it is also good for heel spurs, Morton's neuroma and other feet issues.
7. Copy paper. Because that is what I use in the printer.
8. The Print Shop Deluxe Version 23. I found this on sale for nearly nothing at Best Buy and bought it in hopes of using it as a photo editor. It is okay but not quite what I was looking for. It will do for a while.
9. Entrepreneur magazine. I don't normally buy this, but I saw it in the store and thought hey, maybe there's a new career for me in between those pages. There wasn't, but it was an interesting magazine.
10. Extra sugar free gum. I don't like to chew this but it's been helpful with my diet.
11. Christmas presents. Yes, I do my shopping early.
12. Lunch. Well, I do have to eat, don't I?
13. Flounder. It's my new and improved "eat fish" effort.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 110!
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Deer don't like cats
Yesterday afternoon I saw a black cat in the back yard.
I always pay attention to black cats; I know it is silly but I always believe it to be a sign from my mother. Whether it is a good sign or a bad sign I don't know, but I usually perceive it as a warning to be on my toes.
The cat vanished to one side of the house. A few minutes later I looked up and saw a small buck, a doe and two smaller deers, this year's fawns, I think. browsing and eating the acorns that have fallen amongst the gravel in the driveway.
The buck suddenly dashed to the side of the house and I moved to see what had sent him running in that direction.
He started chasing the cat; he was quickly joined by the doe. The two fawns stopped eating and stamped their feet.
The cat raced around the house and vanished into the nearby field.
I did not know deer don't like cats, but my husband said he has seen them chase cats like that before.
I always pay attention to black cats; I know it is silly but I always believe it to be a sign from my mother. Whether it is a good sign or a bad sign I don't know, but I usually perceive it as a warning to be on my toes.
The cat vanished to one side of the house. A few minutes later I looked up and saw a small buck, a doe and two smaller deers, this year's fawns, I think. browsing and eating the acorns that have fallen amongst the gravel in the driveway.
The buck suddenly dashed to the side of the house and I moved to see what had sent him running in that direction.
He started chasing the cat; he was quickly joined by the doe. The two fawns stopped eating and stamped their feet.
The cat raced around the house and vanished into the nearby field.
I did not know deer don't like cats, but my husband said he has seen them chase cats like that before.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
I know they're just things, but...
Woe.
Just a few hours ago, I headed out to run an errand for my husband. He was in the midst of trying to stop the air flow in our leaking windows (which need replaced after 25 years) and required some additional items for this massive weather-stripping project.
I hustled to apply my make up on and comb my hair so I could drive to Daleville and back. I had a number of activities to take care of myself, and my lengthy to-do list was on my mind.
I raised the garage door and began backing out.
I glanced in the rear view mirror just in time to see something there that shouldn't have been, but not quickly enough.
CRUNCH.
I stopped the Camry immediately; the door was at the garage door entrance and it was all I could do to slip out. I called out my husband's name as I exited the car.
My husband's motorcycle, his most precious baby, lay on its side in the gravel driveway.
He came running from the front of the house and dropped to his knees beside it, looking crushed. My heart broke because he loves his motorcycle. I had ruined it.
I helped him lift the bike; we found a broken signal light, a broken clutch thing, scratches.
My Camry sustained damage on the back bumper, which is a solid piece that goes all the way around the car. The driver's side is completely staved in and the whole bumper will have to be replaced.
Several thousand dollars in damage, all because he didn't put the motorcycle away and I didn't see it when I backed up. The Camry has a spoiler on it and I have trouble seeing things that are low to the ground behind it. What caught my eye just before I hit the bike was a reflection on the side mirror, I think.
I accept the blame for not looking, though surely he has just a little responsibility for leaving it out and in the driveway, doesn't he?
Insurance will fix the car with a deductible. My husband says the motorcycle's damage is not bad enough to submit to the insurance company.
What an unlucky start to the day.
Just a few hours ago, I headed out to run an errand for my husband. He was in the midst of trying to stop the air flow in our leaking windows (which need replaced after 25 years) and required some additional items for this massive weather-stripping project.
I hustled to apply my make up on and comb my hair so I could drive to Daleville and back. I had a number of activities to take care of myself, and my lengthy to-do list was on my mind.
I raised the garage door and began backing out.
I glanced in the rear view mirror just in time to see something there that shouldn't have been, but not quickly enough.
CRUNCH.
I stopped the Camry immediately; the door was at the garage door entrance and it was all I could do to slip out. I called out my husband's name as I exited the car.
My husband's motorcycle, his most precious baby, lay on its side in the gravel driveway.
He came running from the front of the house and dropped to his knees beside it, looking crushed. My heart broke because he loves his motorcycle. I had ruined it.
I helped him lift the bike; we found a broken signal light, a broken clutch thing, scratches.
My Camry sustained damage on the back bumper, which is a solid piece that goes all the way around the car. The driver's side is completely staved in and the whole bumper will have to be replaced.
Several thousand dollars in damage, all because he didn't put the motorcycle away and I didn't see it when I backed up. The Camry has a spoiler on it and I have trouble seeing things that are low to the ground behind it. What caught my eye just before I hit the bike was a reflection on the side mirror, I think.
I accept the blame for not looking, though surely he has just a little responsibility for leaving it out and in the driveway, doesn't he?
Insurance will fix the car with a deductible. My husband says the motorcycle's damage is not bad enough to submit to the insurance company.
What an unlucky start to the day.
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Books: The Audacity of Hope
Warning: I get a little political in this post.
The Audacity of Hope
By Barack Obama
Abridged
Copyright 2006
Read by the author
Bill Maher on his HBO show last night said, "Obama's no liberal," and I have always thought that.
Listening to this tape only confirmed my suspicions. Obama's politics are center-right; he is a Democrat in name only. But truly there are very few true democrats in politics these days. The charade of two parties can end any time now, as far as I'm concerned.
All of which makes the current debacle on health care even more ludicrous as I listen to the catcalls of socialism, etc. that the far right tosses about against one who is essentially one of their own. It's like the right hand slapping the left.
The Audacity of Hope makes it clear that Obama is a centrist at best; he likes free trade and capitalism, adores corporations and loves the comfy lifestyle of someone who makes more money in a year than I will ever see in my lifetime.
Even so, if some of Obama's policies and changes were to pass, the lower middle class, if there is such a thing (really that would be the working class, a term not used in the U.S., and it would include pretty much everybody who makes under, oh, I don't know, let's say $100,000 a year, that is to say, most people), could breath a little easier. Some of the very poor in this country might live a little longer. But it sure seems to me like most folks don't really want poor people, so who cares, eh?
Obama's book talks about health care and how it should change, educational changes, etc., all of which might improve the current status quo. Had he stuck to his original health care ideas and come up with better names for things he might have been more successful; as it is, it looks like what is snaking through Congress will only help the corporations; once again the little guy has been thoroughly forgotten and left for dead.
Our president is well-spoken, and his arguments, center as they are, in theory likely would make sense to people on both sides if either were inclined to listen, which, obviously, they aren't. The book veers off on a long treatise on the treatment of blacks; I daresay some of this would send some white folks I know into an apoplectic fit (I originally misspelled that "apopolitical fit," which is probably appropriate, too), but the short version of his theory is that if blacks are raised above the poverty level everyone else in that category would also benefit, and that is hard to argue with.
He equivocates on some stances as he searches to understand both sides. While this is admirable, I am not sure it will lead to much change in the long run. Finding that "happy medium" is a great goal but it seems next to impossible in the current political climate.
There is also a moral aspect - as in right and wrong - about his ideas that rings true and which is a relief to someone like me, that is to say, a person who sees nothing but immorality in capitalism and the free market because let's face it, not everybody has boots with straps to pull themselves up with. Sometimes folks just have bad luck, and our health care system is set up to bankrupt people, not help them, and corporations can beat a whip across the back of its workers without condemnation, and products can fail or even kill people and the corporations still win. Regular folks have no recourse and I am tired of feeling like I'm just being swept along in a tide of BS that I can't swim out of.
So I can see why Obama the mighty orator was received and anointed as he was, even though I did not agree at the time and still think Hillary Clinton was a better choice. I understand that desire for change, the hope for something better, that brought him into the White House.
If you want to know more about what the man who is our president is thinking, then this is a good book for some insight. It was written prior to his presidential run, although I think he was certainly thinking about it when it was written.
The Audacity of Hope
By Barack Obama
Abridged
Copyright 2006
Read by the author
Bill Maher on his HBO show last night said, "Obama's no liberal," and I have always thought that.
Listening to this tape only confirmed my suspicions. Obama's politics are center-right; he is a Democrat in name only. But truly there are very few true democrats in politics these days. The charade of two parties can end any time now, as far as I'm concerned.
All of which makes the current debacle on health care even more ludicrous as I listen to the catcalls of socialism, etc. that the far right tosses about against one who is essentially one of their own. It's like the right hand slapping the left.
The Audacity of Hope makes it clear that Obama is a centrist at best; he likes free trade and capitalism, adores corporations and loves the comfy lifestyle of someone who makes more money in a year than I will ever see in my lifetime.
Even so, if some of Obama's policies and changes were to pass, the lower middle class, if there is such a thing (really that would be the working class, a term not used in the U.S., and it would include pretty much everybody who makes under, oh, I don't know, let's say $100,000 a year, that is to say, most people), could breath a little easier. Some of the very poor in this country might live a little longer. But it sure seems to me like most folks don't really want poor people, so who cares, eh?
Obama's book talks about health care and how it should change, educational changes, etc., all of which might improve the current status quo. Had he stuck to his original health care ideas and come up with better names for things he might have been more successful; as it is, it looks like what is snaking through Congress will only help the corporations; once again the little guy has been thoroughly forgotten and left for dead.
Our president is well-spoken, and his arguments, center as they are, in theory likely would make sense to people on both sides if either were inclined to listen, which, obviously, they aren't. The book veers off on a long treatise on the treatment of blacks; I daresay some of this would send some white folks I know into an apoplectic fit (I originally misspelled that "apopolitical fit," which is probably appropriate, too), but the short version of his theory is that if blacks are raised above the poverty level everyone else in that category would also benefit, and that is hard to argue with.
He equivocates on some stances as he searches to understand both sides. While this is admirable, I am not sure it will lead to much change in the long run. Finding that "happy medium" is a great goal but it seems next to impossible in the current political climate.
There is also a moral aspect - as in right and wrong - about his ideas that rings true and which is a relief to someone like me, that is to say, a person who sees nothing but immorality in capitalism and the free market because let's face it, not everybody has boots with straps to pull themselves up with. Sometimes folks just have bad luck, and our health care system is set up to bankrupt people, not help them, and corporations can beat a whip across the back of its workers without condemnation, and products can fail or even kill people and the corporations still win. Regular folks have no recourse and I am tired of feeling like I'm just being swept along in a tide of BS that I can't swim out of.
So I can see why Obama the mighty orator was received and anointed as he was, even though I did not agree at the time and still think Hillary Clinton was a better choice. I understand that desire for change, the hope for something better, that brought him into the White House.
If you want to know more about what the man who is our president is thinking, then this is a good book for some insight. It was written prior to his presidential run, although I think he was certainly thinking about it when it was written.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Thursday Thirteen
The MegaMillions jackpot is supposed to be $105 million for Friday night's draw. Today I give you 13 things I think I might do if I won the money.
I figure half would go in federal and state taxes, so I am assuming I only have $52.5 million to play with. Of course, my husband might have other ideas, but some of these are things I know he would likely do so hopefully I have taken that into consideration.
1. Set up a trust fund for myself so there would be interest to live on - $4 million
2. Set up a trust fund for local indigent and poor requests - $10 million
3. Build and furnish a library in Daleville - $2 million
4. Give money to local churches with congregations that actually do something besides build bigger buildings and brainwash people into thinking that such ostentatious efforts are charitable - $5.2 million
5. Give to campaigns - $100,000
6. Buy an RV and travel the United States - $290,000
7. Purchase Camp Fincastle (435 acres) and build a new house on it - $7.5 million (most of that is for the land; it's expensive here)
8. Purchase the in-law's farm (300 acres) so they can retire - $4.5 million
9. Put my nephew Emory through medical school - $125,000
10. Set up trust funds for my niece and two other nephews - $375,000
11. Establish a trust fund for other relatives - $1 million
12. Establish a grant for older women who are returning to school at my alma mater, Hollins University - $1 million
13. Establish a lobby for "regular people" so that somebody in congress might actually listen to their very real issues - $15 million
Apparently, $52 million will not change the world. But I would certainly take a stab at it.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 109!
I figure half would go in federal and state taxes, so I am assuming I only have $52.5 million to play with. Of course, my husband might have other ideas, but some of these are things I know he would likely do so hopefully I have taken that into consideration.
1. Set up a trust fund for myself so there would be interest to live on - $4 million
2. Set up a trust fund for local indigent and poor requests - $10 million
3. Build and furnish a library in Daleville - $2 million
4. Give money to local churches with congregations that actually do something besides build bigger buildings and brainwash people into thinking that such ostentatious efforts are charitable - $5.2 million
5. Give to campaigns - $100,000
6. Buy an RV and travel the United States - $290,000
7. Purchase Camp Fincastle (435 acres) and build a new house on it - $7.5 million (most of that is for the land; it's expensive here)
8. Purchase the in-law's farm (300 acres) so they can retire - $4.5 million
9. Put my nephew Emory through medical school - $125,000
10. Set up trust funds for my niece and two other nephews - $375,000
11. Establish a trust fund for other relatives - $1 million
12. Establish a grant for older women who are returning to school at my alma mater, Hollins University - $1 million
13. Establish a lobby for "regular people" so that somebody in congress might actually listen to their very real issues - $15 million
Apparently, $52 million will not change the world. But I would certainly take a stab at it.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 109!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A letter to myself: if I could change things
Dear Anita,
Here you are, age eight or so. What a young thing! Your whole life is ahead of you and you have no idea what you will accomplish or what you will face.
First, let me tell you that you will grow up to marry a wonderful man. Of all the things in your life, this is absolutely the best. Together you will face several hardships, the most challenging being your inability to have a baby of your own. I hate to break such news to you now but perhaps it is better that you do not long for what you will never have. Instead you will find comfort in your husband's nephews and your brother's children. While it is not the same it will be fulfilling enough, I promise.
With that foreknowledge, I urge you to consider a career as a teacher. I think you will find that quite satisfactory and it will make many things in your life much easier. This is not the career path that I chose, not at all, and it is too late now for me to consider it. I am old and set in my ways; you, however, still have time to move forward and will not find the school setting completely foreign, as I do now when I return to those hallowed halls.
Alternatively, study law. You would make a good lawyer one day. Consider being an estate lawyer; you relate well to older people and this would be a good career path for you.
I know you love to read and write and hope to make writing your career; I beg you, don't do it! The future holds changes you cannot imagine and that way lies only heartache. Turn from it and pursue something else. You can write as a hobby and that will be enough, trust me. In this, (and perhaps only this) your parents are right.
Complete your education, all the way through college, and let nothing and no one stand in your way. You're a smart young lady even at the age of eight, and your brains (so far) do not diminish. Sometimes I think you're too smart, one of those people who know so much that functioning becomes problematic. Don't let that happen to you - keep your feet on the ground and your mind on reality. Tend to gardens so that you connect with the earth. It is very important.
I firmly believe that you and the man I love are destined to be together, and with that thought in mind the changes I am suggesting are with the knowledge that you will always be loved and be with him. Perhaps you will marry at a later date, though, like after you have finished college.
Other things you must do:
1. Exercise. I know you don't like to sweat, but I am afraid you will end up looking like a blimp. I did not exercise much when I was young and I regret it very much now. So go one, move that body!
2. Take up yoga, tai chi or other eastern activities. Don't worry that your family will think you are strange; find some books in the library on these types of activities and study them. Your family will always think you are strange regardless of what you do, so you may as well stop trying so hard for their approval and take care of yourself. I so wish that I had done that.
3. Find your spiritual self. This may be in the organized religions or it may be in something else, like Buddhism, or it may be your own personal beliefs. This may be hard for you until you turn 18 because of your surroundings; I know your parents eschew religion in all forms and things do not go well in your teens when you will begin pursuing these matters. Take heart and stand strong. You will need and want this anchor later in life.
4. Learn to cook. And I mean more than mashed potatoes and chicken. You will find great satisfaction in this skill if you can master it. I did not, and it is something I regret. Apparently I am now too old to figure it out.
5. Do not stop playing the guitar. Yes, I know you don't play now but you will soon, trust me. Take your piano lessons to heart and don't give them up too soon. Your music will be a fine companion for you all of your life if you don't let it slip through your hands.
I wish I had received this letter, read it and took it to heart when I was of an age to make some changes. What a difference it might have made!
If you do not follow my advice, let me tell you what is in store for you. You will marry at age 20 (the best part of your life, but that's awfully young to be married!). Your education will be received in fits and starts and you will be 30 years old when you finally receive your degree. Constant striving to please others will take a toll on your body; you will gain weight, you will be out of shape, heart disease is in your future.
I beg you, young Anita, take the better road.
Your loving older self,
Anita
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)