Nobody tells you that as you age, your body will fall apart and rebel on you in ways you never contemplated.
Four years ago, I developed a floater in my left eye. Apparently this is an accumulation of old cells that floats around in your eye gel.
Mine was very thick and long, shaped a lot like a sausage. It was most apparent when I looked at the sky or a white background.
I have always thought it came about because nine months earlier I had gone on an antihistamine and, at the behest of my physician, stayed on it all that time.
The result was I felt a lot better but I developed this eye thing, so I stopped taking the antihistamine.
The floater eventually decreased in size. Now it is a wispy thing, a thin line that I only notice rarely.
Two years ago, I started having flashers in my eye. I was scared witless by these flashes of light that simply occurred. Sparklies, I called them. At first they were so imperceptible I thought I was simply imagining it, and then one night I woke with a virtual firework explosion going on in my eye.
We called the emergency room and they hunted up an eye care doctor, who saw me at 6:30 a.m. and told me I had torn my retina. It did not require surgery, but it did require me to start using fake tears every night and every morning (and sometimes in between).
The flashers continue intermittently.
Today I was working and I sneezed. The lights flashed in my eye. Disco lights, I call them now. A line of sparkle here, there, like one of those disco balls rotating in a John Travolta movie.
The sensation lasts about a minute. I always go and use my artificial tears right away, once things clear up so I can walk.
They don't prepare you for this. No one told me that as I grew old, my eyes would do these weird things.
Just wait until I start telling you about my white hair.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Books: The Passions of Chelsea Kane
The Passions of Chelsea Kane
By Barbara Delinsky
Audiobook read by Karen Ziemba
I guess this is a romance book. It's not my standard listening but sometimes you just gotta grab something in a hurry.
It wasn't a bad book. Very character driven. Chelsea Kane is an adopted child who is now 37. Her adopted family is very wealthy. Her mother dies and that sends Chelsea off in search of her roots.
Clues lead her to New Hampshire, and she buys into the local quarry company because it is faltering and her architect company likes the granite it pulls out of the ground.
She also has sex with her business partner and gets pregnant. He marries someone else he impregnated. He was having a potent month.
Chelsea meets a lot of people, falls in love with Judd, discovers who her family is. There is some tension when her baby is kidnapped near the end.
2.5 stars for good character development
By Barbara Delinsky
Audiobook read by Karen Ziemba
I guess this is a romance book. It's not my standard listening but sometimes you just gotta grab something in a hurry.
It wasn't a bad book. Very character driven. Chelsea Kane is an adopted child who is now 37. Her adopted family is very wealthy. Her mother dies and that sends Chelsea off in search of her roots.
Clues lead her to New Hampshire, and she buys into the local quarry company because it is faltering and her architect company likes the granite it pulls out of the ground.
She also has sex with her business partner and gets pregnant. He marries someone else he impregnated. He was having a potent month.
Chelsea meets a lot of people, falls in love with Judd, discovers who her family is. There is some tension when her baby is kidnapped near the end.
2.5 stars for good character development
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Thursday Thirteen
1. Overheard in Books-A-Million: "I ordered Harry Potter but I never got my card to present. I have to have that book when it comes in so I can read it! Can you check on my order?" The words were spoken by a wizened white-haired man.
2. The next Harry Potter movie comes out in July.
3. The seventh - and last - Harry Potter book comes out in July also.
4. I have the weekend of July 21 marked off on my calendar so I can spend that Saturday reading the book.
5. I didn't start reading J. K. Rowling's books until the fourth book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, came out. Then I went back and read the others.
6. Now I am an avowed Harry Potter fan, but I tend to forget the details of the books.
7. The movies so far have been very well done.
8. Harry Potter has grown up a lot in the books and I appreciate the character development.
9. Rowling has a great play on words and her character names have been well-thought-out.
10. My closest friend has never read Harry Potter. Neither has my husband, although he goes to the theater to watch the movies with me.
11. Once when I was discussing Harry Potter with someone in a restaurant, a woman turned around and informed me I was going to hell because Harry Potter is stuff of the devil.
12. Her son or grandson, who looked to be about 13, told the woman it was only fantasy.
13. Kids can tell the difference between fantasy and reality. It seems to be adults who don't know the difference.
2. The next Harry Potter movie comes out in July.
3. The seventh - and last - Harry Potter book comes out in July also.
4. I have the weekend of July 21 marked off on my calendar so I can spend that Saturday reading the book.
5. I didn't start reading J. K. Rowling's books until the fourth book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, came out. Then I went back and read the others.
6. Now I am an avowed Harry Potter fan, but I tend to forget the details of the books.
7. The movies so far have been very well done.
8. Harry Potter has grown up a lot in the books and I appreciate the character development.
9. Rowling has a great play on words and her character names have been well-thought-out.
10. My closest friend has never read Harry Potter. Neither has my husband, although he goes to the theater to watch the movies with me.
11. Once when I was discussing Harry Potter with someone in a restaurant, a woman turned around and informed me I was going to hell because Harry Potter is stuff of the devil.
12. Her son or grandson, who looked to be about 13, told the woman it was only fantasy.
13. Kids can tell the difference between fantasy and reality. It seems to be adults who don't know the difference.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
No TV For Me
According to this article, Data Says 2.5 Million Less Watching TV, we're all watching less TV.
Hurray for us.
The article goes on to hypothesize why we are watching less on the boob tube. Maybe we're gardening, working on the computer, "or just plain bored. . . . Everyone has a theory to explain the plummeting ratings: early Daylight Savings Time, more reruns, bad shows, more shows being recorded or downloaded or streamed," the article reads.
The programs on TV are terrible, I think. Maybe we're all "reality show" tired. I'd like to see something fresh and exciting. Something that has a pulse. Something with strong characters, fresh plots, unique ideas.
Something that makes you go "huh" when you're done, and you're glad you watch it.
I don't watch shows on FOX because I won't support the network. I have never seen an episode of "24" or "American Idol." It leaves me out of conversation at the water cooler, but I don't have a water cooler anyway so I don't really care.
My show? The local news. That's pretty much all I watch. I never have the TV on during the day. The only show I make a point of catching is Ghost Whisperer on Friday nights on CBS.
That's because Friday nights are about the only nights I watch TV, and CBS has generally had decent shows in the 8 p.m. time slot. So Ghost Whisperer it is.
The rest of my time I spend reading, writing in this blog, working, doing the laundry, etc. I haven't the time to spend watching reruns or reality shows. Why would I want to watch people make idiots of themselves over money when I can read a book that takes me worlds away and gives me something to think about?
These are some of the shows I have made a point of watching in the past: Cagney & Lacey. Beauty & the Beast. Xena: Warrior Princess. Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. I liked comedies, like Murphy Brown, Cheers, Frasier.
You don't see TV like that anymore. Now everything is Law & Order something or another or its the newest CSI in Iceland. All the same.
Some people don't like to watch forensic science on TV. I am one of them. I don't read Patricia Cornwell books, either.
Give me substance. Give me character. Give me plot. Give me a reason to watch!
Then maybe I'll turn on the set.
Hurray for us.
The article goes on to hypothesize why we are watching less on the boob tube. Maybe we're gardening, working on the computer, "or just plain bored. . . . Everyone has a theory to explain the plummeting ratings: early Daylight Savings Time, more reruns, bad shows, more shows being recorded or downloaded or streamed," the article reads.
The programs on TV are terrible, I think. Maybe we're all "reality show" tired. I'd like to see something fresh and exciting. Something that has a pulse. Something with strong characters, fresh plots, unique ideas.
Something that makes you go "huh" when you're done, and you're glad you watch it.
I don't watch shows on FOX because I won't support the network. I have never seen an episode of "24" or "American Idol." It leaves me out of conversation at the water cooler, but I don't have a water cooler anyway so I don't really care.
My show? The local news. That's pretty much all I watch. I never have the TV on during the day. The only show I make a point of catching is Ghost Whisperer on Friday nights on CBS.
That's because Friday nights are about the only nights I watch TV, and CBS has generally had decent shows in the 8 p.m. time slot. So Ghost Whisperer it is.
The rest of my time I spend reading, writing in this blog, working, doing the laundry, etc. I haven't the time to spend watching reruns or reality shows. Why would I want to watch people make idiots of themselves over money when I can read a book that takes me worlds away and gives me something to think about?
These are some of the shows I have made a point of watching in the past: Cagney & Lacey. Beauty & the Beast. Xena: Warrior Princess. Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. I liked comedies, like Murphy Brown, Cheers, Frasier.
You don't see TV like that anymore. Now everything is Law & Order something or another or its the newest CSI in Iceland. All the same.
Some people don't like to watch forensic science on TV. I am one of them. I don't read Patricia Cornwell books, either.
Give me substance. Give me character. Give me plot. Give me a reason to watch!
Then maybe I'll turn on the set.
Confidentially
Congressman Rick Boucher represents a district in Virginia but not the one I am in. He is, I think, the best Congressman the state has.
While there are muckraking writers who deserve to be challenged (I am thinking of the stories made up about entertainers), I believe that is best handled with civil suits.
The idea of a being hauled before a judge and ordered to give up my sources on a story where I had to quote "officials" is chilling. When the entity seeking the information is the government and not an individual, it is beyond chilling. It definitely is not what I expect to see in a free and open government.
I try at all times to be honest and diligent in the things I write, but I do worry that something I write will be misconstrued or challenged. Things are often misread; people generally read what they want to into the things they see.
One civil case I've been following and writing about for a year in particular has fretted me lately. I know one side sees all coverage about its traumas in court to be negative press and not objective reporting and there's nothing I can do about that.
But that's not going to get me in front of a judge. I am not an investigative reporter and I don't write national news. Sometimes I am quite glad of that.
I think Virginia, by the way, is one of the states that doesn't have a statute that protects reporters. At least that is what I've been told. There may be common law protections, but nothing on the books.
While there are muckraking writers who deserve to be challenged (I am thinking of the stories made up about entertainers), I believe that is best handled with civil suits.
The idea of a being hauled before a judge and ordered to give up my sources on a story where I had to quote "officials" is chilling. When the entity seeking the information is the government and not an individual, it is beyond chilling. It definitely is not what I expect to see in a free and open government.
I try at all times to be honest and diligent in the things I write, but I do worry that something I write will be misconstrued or challenged. Things are often misread; people generally read what they want to into the things they see.
One civil case I've been following and writing about for a year in particular has fretted me lately. I know one side sees all coverage about its traumas in court to be negative press and not objective reporting and there's nothing I can do about that.
But that's not going to get me in front of a judge. I am not an investigative reporter and I don't write national news. Sometimes I am quite glad of that.
I think Virginia, by the way, is one of the states that doesn't have a statute that protects reporters. At least that is what I've been told. There may be common law protections, but nothing on the books.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Double Negatives
Writing is hard and thankless work.
I have found this to be particularly true if you're doing what I do, which is act as a quasi-reporter/journalist. I interview people or attend meetings. I write up the interviews and the meetings.
I try to be creative about it. I enjoy it for rewards other than monetary (thank goodness) including but not limited to the opportunity to meet people I would not otherwise meet.
We recently completed our annual "profile" work. This is a major endeavor composed of features from all over the county. It takes some hustling to get this done.
I received one enthusiastic thank you out of my 10 interview subjects, and I was happy to get that. Usually I don't hear anything at all, and I'm left wondering how someone liked a story. Sometimes I hear through the grapevine what they thought or didn't think.
Of course, if there is something wrong with the article, I will hear about it. Errors always prompt the subject matter to get in touch.
Yesterday I received a phone call from another interview subject. Nice article, but there was a grammatical error.
"I don't speak in double negatives," my interviewee said. I had quoted her as saying "not nothing." and this was what she took away from the article, which was 1200 words long.
She did not recall that I had called her lots of nice words and made her sound like someone everyone would want to know. Nope. It was the double negative that caught her eye.
Sigh.
I apologized for my error, because of course I must have written something down wrong.
"I'll never hear the end of it," she said.
"Has anyone said anything to you yet? It's been nearly a week since the paper hit the stands," I politely asked.
No one had mentioned it, but nevertheless, there it stood. A flaw in the face of flawlessness.
And I'd do it all over again, because I really do love my work. Even the double negatives.
I have found this to be particularly true if you're doing what I do, which is act as a quasi-reporter/journalist. I interview people or attend meetings. I write up the interviews and the meetings.
I try to be creative about it. I enjoy it for rewards other than monetary (thank goodness) including but not limited to the opportunity to meet people I would not otherwise meet.
We recently completed our annual "profile" work. This is a major endeavor composed of features from all over the county. It takes some hustling to get this done.
I received one enthusiastic thank you out of my 10 interview subjects, and I was happy to get that. Usually I don't hear anything at all, and I'm left wondering how someone liked a story. Sometimes I hear through the grapevine what they thought or didn't think.
Of course, if there is something wrong with the article, I will hear about it. Errors always prompt the subject matter to get in touch.
Yesterday I received a phone call from another interview subject. Nice article, but there was a grammatical error.
"I don't speak in double negatives," my interviewee said. I had quoted her as saying "not nothing." and this was what she took away from the article, which was 1200 words long.
She did not recall that I had called her lots of nice words and made her sound like someone everyone would want to know. Nope. It was the double negative that caught her eye.
Sigh.
I apologized for my error, because of course I must have written something down wrong.
"I'll never hear the end of it," she said.
"Has anyone said anything to you yet? It's been nearly a week since the paper hit the stands," I politely asked.
No one had mentioned it, but nevertheless, there it stood. A flaw in the face of flawlessness.
And I'd do it all over again, because I really do love my work. Even the double negatives.
Monday, May 07, 2007
For the Birds
This is a baby bird and a parent bird (I think they are doves or pigeons, I am not up on my birds). The only thing I could figure, the baby bird was still trying to get fed from its mother, because it kept attacking the older bird's beak.
It was like they were doing some odd bird dance. Dance of the worms, maybe.
I took the picture through the window.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Truth in Labeling
Recently while I was searching for crackers, I went down the cereal aisle at the local grocer. I usually buy my cereal over in the "organic" section, where nobody has a clue about the brands.
Kellogg's, I noticed, was touting "organic" Rice Crispies and several other brands of cereal. The boxes were about $1.50 higher than the same cereal not so labeled.
I don't know about you, but I have a hard time putting Kellogg's and "organic" in the same sentence. Kellogg's gives us Pop Tarts, after all. Can't get much more non-organic than a Pop Tart.
Organic doesn't mean what it once did thanks to some labeling changes. I think most people think it means "good" and "healthy" and free of chemicals like hormones, pesticides, herbicides, and genetic modification, among other things.
The USDA seems to think organic still means "pure" and good and all of those things. But some people are starting to wonder, particularly when you have a company like Kellogg's' suddenly on the band wagon. I bet they never met a dollar they didn't like.
The government has all of these labels that are supposed to tell us things. It has a website with the National Institute of Health to tell us how to read labels.
I'd like to see some real truth in labeling. Take this bag of Frito's corn chips on the counter in the kitchen. That label says 160 calories a serving. Oh wow, says me, I can dig that. Munch munch.
But wait. A serving is 10 chips. It doesn't say whether that's whole chips or little broken pieces. But there are 15 servings in the bag. So there are 2,400 calories in this bag of Frito's.
Don't you think it should say THERE ARE 2,400 CALORIES IN THIS BAG. Would you buy it if it said that? Maybe not.
The Kraft French Onion dip to go with the Frito's has 60 calories in 2 tablespoons. I don't think 2 tablespoons of dip covers 10 chips. There are 15 servings in the dip, though, so if you can figure out how to spread it out over 10 chips it should all come out even.
There are 900 calories in the dip. Don't you think the dip should say THERE ARE 900 CALORIES IN THIS CONTAINER. Would you buy it if it said that? Maybe not.
Essentially there are enough calories in a bag of Frito's and the accompanying dip to feed one person well for TWO DAYS.
I don't particularly want to live on Frito's for two days. So I should just eat one serving.
I don't normally eat Frito's but I have a really sore throat and a bad cough and I was craving salt. So my husband brought home chips and dip. Wasn't that thoughtful?
I just know he never read the labels.
Kellogg's, I noticed, was touting "organic" Rice Crispies and several other brands of cereal. The boxes were about $1.50 higher than the same cereal not so labeled.
I don't know about you, but I have a hard time putting Kellogg's and "organic" in the same sentence. Kellogg's gives us Pop Tarts, after all. Can't get much more non-organic than a Pop Tart.
Organic doesn't mean what it once did thanks to some labeling changes. I think most people think it means "good" and "healthy" and free of chemicals like hormones, pesticides, herbicides, and genetic modification, among other things.
The USDA seems to think organic still means "pure" and good and all of those things. But some people are starting to wonder, particularly when you have a company like Kellogg's' suddenly on the band wagon. I bet they never met a dollar they didn't like.
The government has all of these labels that are supposed to tell us things. It has a website with the National Institute of Health to tell us how to read labels.
I'd like to see some real truth in labeling. Take this bag of Frito's corn chips on the counter in the kitchen. That label says 160 calories a serving. Oh wow, says me, I can dig that. Munch munch.
But wait. A serving is 10 chips. It doesn't say whether that's whole chips or little broken pieces. But there are 15 servings in the bag. So there are 2,400 calories in this bag of Frito's.
Don't you think it should say THERE ARE 2,400 CALORIES IN THIS BAG. Would you buy it if it said that? Maybe not.
The Kraft French Onion dip to go with the Frito's has 60 calories in 2 tablespoons. I don't think 2 tablespoons of dip covers 10 chips. There are 15 servings in the dip, though, so if you can figure out how to spread it out over 10 chips it should all come out even.
There are 900 calories in the dip. Don't you think the dip should say THERE ARE 900 CALORIES IN THIS CONTAINER. Would you buy it if it said that? Maybe not.
Essentially there are enough calories in a bag of Frito's and the accompanying dip to feed one person well for TWO DAYS.
I don't particularly want to live on Frito's for two days. So I should just eat one serving.
I don't normally eat Frito's but I have a really sore throat and a bad cough and I was craving salt. So my husband brought home chips and dip. Wasn't that thoughtful?
I just know he never read the labels.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Movie: Man of the Year
This 2006 release stars Robin Williams. It is directed by Barry Levinson.
We watched it last weekend as a pay-per-view on DirectTV.
We generally enjoy Robin Williams; my husband is an ardent fan. However, in recent years that ardor has cooled as Williams' seems to have become practically manic in his delivery.
Williams portrays Tom Dobbs, a talk show host (think Bill Maher or Jon Stewart) who runs for office and wins.
Meanwhile, there is a problem with the new electronic voting machines sanctioned by Congress. Pretty girl realizes there is a problem, gets in way of big corporation, gets smeared, attempts to tell Dobbs that he really didn't win, falls for him, etc. etc.
The movie had about three laughs and was very heavy handed in its messages. While I agree with the messages, I am not sure they make for good entertainment. Yes, the electoral college system we use is weird, to say the least - a man winning the presidency by winning 13 states? Sure, it can be done with our system.
That was one of the messages.
The other is the complete distrust of electronic voting, and I really agree with that message. I think the machines can be rigged and altered and are totally unsecure. But it's hard to make an entire movie around it, especially a movie that didn't know whether it was a comedy or an action flick.
Maybe if they'd chosen total action flick?
Anyway, I was glad we didn't waste the money at the theater to see this.
1.5 stars
We watched it last weekend as a pay-per-view on DirectTV.
We generally enjoy Robin Williams; my husband is an ardent fan. However, in recent years that ardor has cooled as Williams' seems to have become practically manic in his delivery.
Williams portrays Tom Dobbs, a talk show host (think Bill Maher or Jon Stewart) who runs for office and wins.
Meanwhile, there is a problem with the new electronic voting machines sanctioned by Congress. Pretty girl realizes there is a problem, gets in way of big corporation, gets smeared, attempts to tell Dobbs that he really didn't win, falls for him, etc. etc.
The movie had about three laughs and was very heavy handed in its messages. While I agree with the messages, I am not sure they make for good entertainment. Yes, the electoral college system we use is weird, to say the least - a man winning the presidency by winning 13 states? Sure, it can be done with our system.
That was one of the messages.
The other is the complete distrust of electronic voting, and I really agree with that message. I think the machines can be rigged and altered and are totally unsecure. But it's hard to make an entire movie around it, especially a movie that didn't know whether it was a comedy or an action flick.
Maybe if they'd chosen total action flick?
Anyway, I was glad we didn't waste the money at the theater to see this.
1.5 stars
Book: Trickster's Queen
Trickster's Queen, by Tamora Pierce
Copyright 2004
467 pages
This sequel to Trickster's Choice was fabulous. (I reviewed it here.) I enjoyed every word and was sorry to come to the end.
Aly is a great character; a super spy who grows into a super woman. Lots of fun fantasy that is truly secondary to magnificient character building. She is far from home but has found a love, Nawat, a crow who turns into a man. She has found a cause and a passion, and a way to use her skills. She also makes mistakes and her fallibility is endearing.
Now she must help a people reclaim their nation and place the right person on the throne. Is Aly up to the task?
The secondary lead character, Dove, is also very well done. She is 13, has above-average intelligence, and the will to be the leader the people need. Will she always be hovering in her sister's footsteps?
Great ending and resolution.
4.75 stars
Tamora Pierce's website is here.
Copyright 2004
467 pages
This sequel to Trickster's Choice was fabulous. (I reviewed it here.) I enjoyed every word and was sorry to come to the end.
Aly is a great character; a super spy who grows into a super woman. Lots of fun fantasy that is truly secondary to magnificient character building. She is far from home but has found a love, Nawat, a crow who turns into a man. She has found a cause and a passion, and a way to use her skills. She also makes mistakes and her fallibility is endearing.
Now she must help a people reclaim their nation and place the right person on the throne. Is Aly up to the task?
The secondary lead character, Dove, is also very well done. She is 13, has above-average intelligence, and the will to be the leader the people need. Will she always be hovering in her sister's footsteps?
Great ending and resolution.
4.75 stars
Tamora Pierce's website is here.
Book: The Fiery Cross
Audiobook
The Fiery Cross, by Diana Gabaldon
Read by Geraldine James
I was unable to get through the first tape of this book. The reader on the audio kept lapsing into this terrible fake Scottish accent that was unintelligible and finally I turned it off. I refused to waste my time on something that I could only partially understand.
The book's premise interested me greatly and I will try to find it in print. In the meantime, I looked it up on amazon.com and discovered it is the fifth in a series, so I will need to go back and start at the beginning.
Here is what amazon had to say:
The Fiery Cross, by Diana Gabaldon
Read by Geraldine James
I was unable to get through the first tape of this book. The reader on the audio kept lapsing into this terrible fake Scottish accent that was unintelligible and finally I turned it off. I refused to waste my time on something that I could only partially understand.
The book's premise interested me greatly and I will try to find it in print. In the meantime, I looked it up on amazon.com and discovered it is the fifth in a series, so I will need to go back and start at the beginning.
Here is what amazon had to say:
The story of Outlander begins just after the Second World War, when a British field nurse named Claire Randall walks through a cleft stone in the Scottish highlands and is transported back some two hundred years to 1743.
Here, now, is The Fiery Cross, the eagerly awaited fifth volume in this remarkable, award-winning series of historical novels. The year is 1771, and war is approaching. Jamie Fraser’s wife has told him so. Little as he wishes to, he must believe it, for hers is a gift of dreadful prophecy—a time-traveller’s certain knowledge. To break his oath to the Crown will brand him a traitor; to keep it is certain doom. Jamie Fraser stands in the shadow of the fiery cross—a standard that leads nowhere but to the bloody brink of war.
No. 250
This is my 250th post. Which is not a lot compared to some but is a lot compared to others.
I began blogging in this blog in August 2006, but it was not my first effort. I had been blogging on AOL for two (or more) years prior when AOL changed its format. After some time I decided to switch to blogger and well, here I am. Whoopee.
Blogging is different from journaling or diary writing, though people compare them. For one thing, I am utterly aware that I have an audience, even if it is just one person. My journals, and there are many because I have always done some kind of introspective writing, were never meant to be seen. Not even by me sometimes.
With a blog I am keenly aware that something in here might come back to haunt me. I mean, what if I were to run for political office? Will I be answering stupid questions from reporters about what I meant in such and such an entry?
I don't find blogging hard, mostly because I have no great expectations for myself with this. I try to do it every day but I don't beat myself up if I fail. I never wrote in my journal every single day either.
I do miss my journal, that repository of thoughts, though. I stopped writing those kinds of entries long ago, well before I was blogging, though. But sometimes there are days when I think, I need to just write about so-and-so and get that event off my mind. Sometimes I do it, but since I have no place, no designated notebook or anything, I find myself at a loss with what to do with it.
Weird, I know.
Anyway, here's to 250. I'm raising a root beer in salute.
I began blogging in this blog in August 2006, but it was not my first effort. I had been blogging on AOL for two (or more) years prior when AOL changed its format. After some time I decided to switch to blogger and well, here I am. Whoopee.
Blogging is different from journaling or diary writing, though people compare them. For one thing, I am utterly aware that I have an audience, even if it is just one person. My journals, and there are many because I have always done some kind of introspective writing, were never meant to be seen. Not even by me sometimes.
With a blog I am keenly aware that something in here might come back to haunt me. I mean, what if I were to run for political office? Will I be answering stupid questions from reporters about what I meant in such and such an entry?
I don't find blogging hard, mostly because I have no great expectations for myself with this. I try to do it every day but I don't beat myself up if I fail. I never wrote in my journal every single day either.
I do miss my journal, that repository of thoughts, though. I stopped writing those kinds of entries long ago, well before I was blogging, though. But sometimes there are days when I think, I need to just write about so-and-so and get that event off my mind. Sometimes I do it, but since I have no place, no designated notebook or anything, I find myself at a loss with what to do with it.
Weird, I know.
Anyway, here's to 250. I'm raising a root beer in salute.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Trillium
Yesterday my friend J. S. and I took a jaunt to a secret area.
My goal was to see if the trillium was in bloom (you may recall I wrote about earlier jaunts to see the trillium here.). The plants were in full thrall, though some of it looked like it was near the end of its course. The forest floor was covered with the plant; it looked like something out of a fairy tale. A way to an enchanted place, perhaps. Surely there were gnomes and elves and other woodland myths at the far end of this trail of lovelies.
Trillium, according to Wikipedia, has about 50 varieties. I have no idea what variety this particular flower might be. My mother told me that the variety hidden in this vale is rare, and to me it looks like it's trillium ovatum which can't be right because apparently that grows out west, not here in southwestern Virginia.
If you pick a trillium plant, you kill it. It is illegal in some states to pick trillium because it takes years for the plants to come back. Perhaps this wild patch of trillium has been growing for decades. It has been there at least a decade, probably longer. I know of only a few people who would venture into the area in the spring who might have seen it.
I am happy to share it with you.
My goal was to see if the trillium was in bloom (you may recall I wrote about earlier jaunts to see the trillium here.). The plants were in full thrall, though some of it looked like it was near the end of its course. The forest floor was covered with the plant; it looked like something out of a fairy tale. A way to an enchanted place, perhaps. Surely there were gnomes and elves and other woodland myths at the far end of this trail of lovelies.
Trillium, according to Wikipedia, has about 50 varieties. I have no idea what variety this particular flower might be. My mother told me that the variety hidden in this vale is rare, and to me it looks like it's trillium ovatum which can't be right because apparently that grows out west, not here in southwestern Virginia.
If you pick a trillium plant, you kill it. It is illegal in some states to pick trillium because it takes years for the plants to come back. Perhaps this wild patch of trillium has been growing for decades. It has been there at least a decade, probably longer. I know of only a few people who would venture into the area in the spring who might have seen it.
I am happy to share it with you.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
So long, Great Great Aunt
I did not know Aunt Pearl very well; I don't think I have seen her in at least 20 years. When I was a child, my grandmother would walk us up to downtown Salem so we could buy ourselves toys at Newberry's with our allowance money. We always stopped by Aunt Pearl's house for a sit on the porch and a sip of lemonade or Coke.
She was the sister of my great-grandfather, my grandmother's aunt. I think I have that right. She would have been 64 when I was born, so of course I always remember her as being old.
My grandmother is 83 and her sister is 87, but my mother died at 56. Aunt Pearl was 107. I am not sure what that says about my longevity odds.
Aunt Pearl saw the world change. She lived the entire 20th century; I don't suppose many people can say that. She saw two world wars, lots of other wars, the invention of TV, the advent of electricty and telephones in every home, man on the moon, the love connection of the 60s, the 1950s Daddy Knows Best era, the Me's of the 1970s. Her early life was spent in a time when we still cooked with fire, not electricity, and refrigeration was just starting to become a way of life for every household.
She stayed by herself until she about 105 and only in recent months did she finally end up in a nursing home.
Farewell, Aunt Pearl. You outlived many.
***
She was the sister of my great-grandfather, my grandmother's aunt. I think I have that right. She would have been 64 when I was born, so of course I always remember her as being old.
My grandmother is 83 and her sister is 87, but my mother died at 56. Aunt Pearl was 107. I am not sure what that says about my longevity odds.
Aunt Pearl saw the world change. She lived the entire 20th century; I don't suppose many people can say that. She saw two world wars, lots of other wars, the invention of TV, the advent of electricty and telephones in every home, man on the moon, the love connection of the 60s, the 1950s Daddy Knows Best era, the Me's of the 1970s. Her early life was spent in a time when we still cooked with fire, not electricity, and refrigeration was just starting to become a way of life for every household.
She stayed by herself until she about 105 and only in recent months did she finally end up in a nursing home.
Farewell, Aunt Pearl. You outlived many.
***
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Moving On
(Note: This was written 4/23/07 and appeared in a local publication several days later.)
The soil was cool in my hands as I sifted it. Saturday morning the air was still, crisp and clean, a relief from the ill winds that blew in earlier in the week.
The sky overhead seemed an endless blue ceiling leading to heaven.
My garden had waited long enough for me to bring some green to it. I mapped out my rows, then I struck at the dirt with my favorite hoe, the one that says “Real Tools for Kids” on the side.
As my tool thwacked against the ground, the songbirds heralded the day with a Hallelujah chorus. The dove cooed, a blue jay squawked, the robin with a nest in the spruce next to the garden fussed eloquently at me as I perspired.
The earth smelled sweet and the fragrance buoyed my spirits better than any man-made perfume.
The ancient garden rake let me down as its metal part separated from wood. I stared at it a while before trudging inside for duct tape.
Not the best fix, but it worked.
The raking and hoeing done, I dropped to my knees with cabbage and lettuce plants in hand. The tiny shoots pulled easily from their container, and I talked to each as I patted soil around the roots.
“You’ll like it out here, there’s a lot more sunshine,” I promised.
The lettuce, which had been in the garage since the cold snap, was looking especially peaked and in need of light.
Next I made rows of radishes, green beans, kale and cucumbers, then piled up the dirt for a couple of hills of squash. I pushed my luck with some of the vegetables, the ones with “plant after no chance of frost” on them. But I am gambling that the cold weather has passed and we’re on our way to summer.
Garden planted, I turned to the flower beds. My roses were growing heartily a few weeks ago, but now leaves, deadened by frost bite, dangled from branches. Snip. Snip. Some well-placed cuts and the plants looked perky again.
The sun blazed and a cool breeze dried my face, red with heat and effort, while I took a rest with a glass of water. Soil dotted my T-shirt and the knees of my jeans were caked with mud.
I said a quiet prayer as I thought about the long week. What a time of loss and sorrow, of bad omens and brave heroics those days had been. At the time it did not seem the week could end with a beautiful Saturday.
But it did. Mother Nature brought a day of comfort and renewal.
It was a moving on.
The soil was cool in my hands as I sifted it. Saturday morning the air was still, crisp and clean, a relief from the ill winds that blew in earlier in the week.
The sky overhead seemed an endless blue ceiling leading to heaven.
My garden had waited long enough for me to bring some green to it. I mapped out my rows, then I struck at the dirt with my favorite hoe, the one that says “Real Tools for Kids” on the side.
As my tool thwacked against the ground, the songbirds heralded the day with a Hallelujah chorus. The dove cooed, a blue jay squawked, the robin with a nest in the spruce next to the garden fussed eloquently at me as I perspired.
The earth smelled sweet and the fragrance buoyed my spirits better than any man-made perfume.
The ancient garden rake let me down as its metal part separated from wood. I stared at it a while before trudging inside for duct tape.
Not the best fix, but it worked.
The raking and hoeing done, I dropped to my knees with cabbage and lettuce plants in hand. The tiny shoots pulled easily from their container, and I talked to each as I patted soil around the roots.
“You’ll like it out here, there’s a lot more sunshine,” I promised.
The lettuce, which had been in the garage since the cold snap, was looking especially peaked and in need of light.
Next I made rows of radishes, green beans, kale and cucumbers, then piled up the dirt for a couple of hills of squash. I pushed my luck with some of the vegetables, the ones with “plant after no chance of frost” on them. But I am gambling that the cold weather has passed and we’re on our way to summer.
Garden planted, I turned to the flower beds. My roses were growing heartily a few weeks ago, but now leaves, deadened by frost bite, dangled from branches. Snip. Snip. Some well-placed cuts and the plants looked perky again.
The sun blazed and a cool breeze dried my face, red with heat and effort, while I took a rest with a glass of water. Soil dotted my T-shirt and the knees of my jeans were caked with mud.
I said a quiet prayer as I thought about the long week. What a time of loss and sorrow, of bad omens and brave heroics those days had been. At the time it did not seem the week could end with a beautiful Saturday.
But it did. Mother Nature brought a day of comfort and renewal.
It was a moving on.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Thursday Thirteen
1. I picked up a copy today of the Consumer Information Catalog from my local library.
2. You can order useful phamplets from this. The information is created by goverment entities.
3. In the past I have ordered information on topics such as oral cancer in an effort to get my husband to stop chewing tobacco.
4. My efforts went unheeded.
5. The publications range from free to $15.00.
6. Topics range from cars (buying a new car) to computer to education to employment to food.
7. Something like "Your Right to Federal Records" on the Freedom of Information Act costs $1.
8. A phamplet on Restaurant and Take-Out Safety costs you nothing.
9. I plan to order several phamplets on allergies. They are free.
10. I might order one on cholesterol. It is free, too.
11. I think some of the documents that they charge for should be free and some of the free ones maybe should have a charge.
12. For example, it costs $2.75 for a copy of the Constitution of the United States and the Declaration of Independence.
13. Now I know the price of knowledge of democracy: $2.75.
2. You can order useful phamplets from this. The information is created by goverment entities.
3. In the past I have ordered information on topics such as oral cancer in an effort to get my husband to stop chewing tobacco.
4. My efforts went unheeded.
5. The publications range from free to $15.00.
6. Topics range from cars (buying a new car) to computer to education to employment to food.
7. Something like "Your Right to Federal Records" on the Freedom of Information Act costs $1.
8. A phamplet on Restaurant and Take-Out Safety costs you nothing.
9. I plan to order several phamplets on allergies. They are free.
10. I might order one on cholesterol. It is free, too.
11. I think some of the documents that they charge for should be free and some of the free ones maybe should have a charge.
12. For example, it costs $2.75 for a copy of the Constitution of the United States and the Declaration of Independence.
13. Now I know the price of knowledge of democracy: $2.75.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
The Cold Snap
The April cold snap has done a lot of damage to the vegetation. I was at Ikenberry's Monday and G. told me they'd lost about half of their fruit crop.
Apples and peaches will be scarce and expensive this summer, I fear.
This is the view out my window now:
This is what it looked like before the cold snap:
Isn't the first picture scary? I am hoping the trees will recover, but when I was walking Sunday and examining the oaks, I saw little sign of new leaves.
Now we have this odd juxtaposition of dead growth and new growth. It is weird.
I think global warming is misnamed. It should be called global environmental change, because I think that more adequately describes what is happening. The environment is changing.
I wonder if the trees will adapt.
Apples and peaches will be scarce and expensive this summer, I fear.
This is the view out my window now:
This is what it looked like before the cold snap:
Isn't the first picture scary? I am hoping the trees will recover, but when I was walking Sunday and examining the oaks, I saw little sign of new leaves.
Now we have this odd juxtaposition of dead growth and new growth. It is weird.
I think global warming is misnamed. It should be called global environmental change, because I think that more adequately describes what is happening. The environment is changing.
I wonder if the trees will adapt.
Save Chocolate!
Like OMG.
The FDA wants to change the rules for chocolate making. They want to let "real chocolate" be made not with cocoa butter but with fat substitutes. Vegetable fat.
You can read about it here in the L.A. Times. In part, it says:
They don't eat it either.
The scarier thing about this is that essentially this "citizen petition" is asking for a complete relaxation of food standards by the FDA on the basis that we have labels now and if we don't read them to see that things in the food will kill us that's our problem.
This is a request to relaxe food standards.
The lack of government oversight during recent years has brought us the peanut butter scare, the dog food scare, the spinach scare, etc., etc. ad naseum .... need I say more about what we're in for if food standards are lessened? It's not just about the taste.
Read the FDA thing for yourself here. If you want to comment, go here.
Thanks to redsneakz over at Separation Anxiety for pointing this out.
The FDA wants to change the rules for chocolate making. They want to let "real chocolate" be made not with cocoa butter but with fat substitutes. Vegetable fat.
You can read about it here in the L.A. Times. In part, it says:
The FDA is entertaining a "citizen's petition" to allow manufacturers to substitute vegetable fats and oils for cocoa butter.I don't know about you, but I will notice the difference. Cocoa butter chocolate melts in your mouth; its the texture that gives good chocolate its nearly orgasmic sensations. We already have "imitation" chocolate - and I don't eat it. It's the stuff you try to pawn off on kids when you accidentally purchase it at the store.
The "citizens" who created this petition represent groups that would benefit most from this degradation of the current standards. They are the Chocolate Manufacturers Assn., the Grocery Manufacturers Assn., the Snack Food Assn. and the National Cattlemen's Beef Assn. (OK, I'm not sure what's in it for them), along with seven other food producing associations.
This is what they think of us chocolate eaters, according to their petition on file at the FDA:
"Consumer expectations still define the basic nature of a food. There are, however, no generally held consumer expectations today concerning the precise technical elements by which commonly recognized, standardized foods are produced. Consumers, therefore, are not likely to have formed expectations as to production methods, aging time or specific ingredients used for technical improvements, including manufacturing efficiencies."
Let me translate:
"Consumers won't know the difference."
They don't eat it either.
The scarier thing about this is that essentially this "citizen petition" is asking for a complete relaxation of food standards by the FDA on the basis that we have labels now and if we don't read them to see that things in the food will kill us that's our problem.
This is a request to relaxe food standards.
The lack of government oversight during recent years has brought us the peanut butter scare, the dog food scare, the spinach scare, etc., etc. ad naseum .... need I say more about what we're in for if food standards are lessened? It's not just about the taste.
Read the FDA thing for yourself here. If you want to comment, go here.
Thanks to redsneakz over at Separation Anxiety for pointing this out.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
The Gaffe
Thursday I had reason to be at the funeral home to offer condolences.
My in-laws and husband came too, as our dear departed was a family friend. Most of the neighborhood and town turned out to say farewell to the elderly woman.
After we had all paid our respects, we stood around as people do, looking over the room, making sure we hadn't missed any family members. A lady spotted me and flung up a hand, "Hey A.," she said.
"Oh, hi! Have you met my mother-in-law? E. F., this is Lynn B.," I said, as politely and helpfully as one could be.
They shook hands. "Nice to meet you, I'm Jane J.," said the erroneously labeled newcomer.
Properly mortified, what could I say? "I'm sorry, I mistook you for Lynn B., I never realized before how much you look alike," I stammered.
In hindsight, they look nothing alike, but at the funeral parlor, and particularly with Lynn B.'s name on my mind because my mother-in-law had mentioned her to me just a few moments before, I could have sworn they were twins.
I can only imagine how Jane J. relayed that conversation to her husband, who is actually someone I do know on sight. In my defense, I think I've actually met Jane J. twice in my lifetime, but still, I should know her on sight.
Unfortunately I deal with a lot of people in my work, and folks whom I spent an hour interviewing (occasionally years and years before) sometimes thinks that means I know who they are. It's not unusual for me to be accosted in the grocery store by strangers who read my work in the paper and think they know me. In fact I rarely get through the store without somebody stopping me for a chat. Generally speaking I don't mind; I like to chat. And who knows when another story for the paper will come out of a greeting.
But I do get greatly embarrassed when I can't remember names. Sometimes I just pretend I know who these people are, and they walk away apparently without realizing I am clueless. (And usually remain clueless, never to know who the heck I was talking to.) Other times I say, "I'm so sorry, I know I should know who you are, but I can't seem to recall."
People don't like it if you don't remember who they are. I understand that; your name is an important part of your identity. This is a real problem for me; I can recall faces but if someone is "out of place" I have a very difficult time remembering them. I do name association things, like "Karen works at the Kourthouse" or "Annie at APCO" to try to remember, but it does not always work. And when you deal with hundreds of different people throughout the year, well, it gets confusing.
Since I have such difficulty recalling names, I usually introduce myself right away to people when I call or greet them. One of the most memorable times I did that was when I called a lawyer I had worked for seven years prior to ask for a referral. "Hi Walt, this is A., remember? I worked for you at . . . ."
His somewhat incredulous response was along the lines of, "Of course I remember, I'd have to be a complete idiot to forget." And what do you say to that?
And then there are people I recognize but haven't seen in a while, and I sometimes say something like, "Hey! It's A., remember, we met at thus and so ..." and they usually look annoyed and say "Of course I remember."
I fear they take it as an insult when I re-introduce myself to them.
So having made this terrible gaffe most recently, I scratch my head and wonder how to overcome this obvious deficit in my brain functioning. It is a problem I suspect will only worsen as I age.
"Remember me? Good, 'cause I've forgotten you." Yikes. I haven't, not really. I know who you are.
I just don't know your name.
My in-laws and husband came too, as our dear departed was a family friend. Most of the neighborhood and town turned out to say farewell to the elderly woman.
After we had all paid our respects, we stood around as people do, looking over the room, making sure we hadn't missed any family members. A lady spotted me and flung up a hand, "Hey A.," she said.
"Oh, hi! Have you met my mother-in-law? E. F., this is Lynn B.," I said, as politely and helpfully as one could be.
They shook hands. "Nice to meet you, I'm Jane J.," said the erroneously labeled newcomer.
Properly mortified, what could I say? "I'm sorry, I mistook you for Lynn B., I never realized before how much you look alike," I stammered.
In hindsight, they look nothing alike, but at the funeral parlor, and particularly with Lynn B.'s name on my mind because my mother-in-law had mentioned her to me just a few moments before, I could have sworn they were twins.
I can only imagine how Jane J. relayed that conversation to her husband, who is actually someone I do know on sight. In my defense, I think I've actually met Jane J. twice in my lifetime, but still, I should know her on sight.
Unfortunately I deal with a lot of people in my work, and folks whom I spent an hour interviewing (occasionally years and years before) sometimes thinks that means I know who they are. It's not unusual for me to be accosted in the grocery store by strangers who read my work in the paper and think they know me. In fact I rarely get through the store without somebody stopping me for a chat. Generally speaking I don't mind; I like to chat. And who knows when another story for the paper will come out of a greeting.
But I do get greatly embarrassed when I can't remember names. Sometimes I just pretend I know who these people are, and they walk away apparently without realizing I am clueless. (And usually remain clueless, never to know who the heck I was talking to.) Other times I say, "I'm so sorry, I know I should know who you are, but I can't seem to recall."
People don't like it if you don't remember who they are. I understand that; your name is an important part of your identity. This is a real problem for me; I can recall faces but if someone is "out of place" I have a very difficult time remembering them. I do name association things, like "Karen works at the Kourthouse" or "Annie at APCO" to try to remember, but it does not always work. And when you deal with hundreds of different people throughout the year, well, it gets confusing.
Since I have such difficulty recalling names, I usually introduce myself right away to people when I call or greet them. One of the most memorable times I did that was when I called a lawyer I had worked for seven years prior to ask for a referral. "Hi Walt, this is A., remember? I worked for you at . . . ."
His somewhat incredulous response was along the lines of, "Of course I remember, I'd have to be a complete idiot to forget." And what do you say to that?
And then there are people I recognize but haven't seen in a while, and I sometimes say something like, "Hey! It's A., remember, we met at thus and so ..." and they usually look annoyed and say "Of course I remember."
I fear they take it as an insult when I re-introduce myself to them.
So having made this terrible gaffe most recently, I scratch my head and wonder how to overcome this obvious deficit in my brain functioning. It is a problem I suspect will only worsen as I age.
"Remember me? Good, 'cause I've forgotten you." Yikes. I haven't, not really. I know who you are.
I just don't know your name.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Give Peace a Chance
After the rather rough week we've had here in Virginia, it seems fitting to remind fellow bloggers of the Peace Globe. On June 6, 2007, bloggers will once again show the world that they're intent on stopping violence.
The Peace Globe promotion is the brainchild of Mimi over at MimiWrites. You can get your own peace globe there, if you like.
I hope anyone interested in peace will participate. Maybe it's a good time to remember the events of April 16, too, and wonder how we can stop such a thing from ever happening again.
I pray for peace on each and every day, and I hope that peace finds you and holds you close. Remember to tell the folks you care about that you love them.
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