My Ficus Tree

This is my ficus tree.

I received it when it was a very small plant in an arrangement in 1989. I was in the hospital for surgery and the law firm where I worked sent it.

I transplanted the 10" little tree and it has grown too big for my house. I have decided it is one of the 50 Things I should let go.

I moved it to the garage several years ago because it no longer fit in the corner where I had it. It is very difficult to kill and it needs very little care and attention. It seems to thrive on neglect, actually.

It would look great in an office or in a larger home with high ceilings. Surely you have a corner where you could use a tree, don't you?

Offering it for sale is my first course of action. If anyone is interested in buying it, please email me.

Post 1200

According to the blogger count, this is my 1200th post in this blog.

If each post were only 250 words, and we all know my posts are not that short, that would be 300,000 words. I expect it is more like 750,000.

If that is the case, then that's a lot of words. That's ten 75,000-word books, which is what 300 pages of double-spaced manuscript amounts to. That's your basic mystery right there.

I began this blog on August 5, 2006. It is not my first blog; I originally started one in 2003 to protest the war in Iraq. That lasted about six months. Then in 2004 I switched over to AOL Journals and wrote there until AOL went nuts and I felt a change was in order.

I began blogging because it was a different outlet than the writing I had been performing for pay. It also helped hone skills I felt were in need of work, in particular reaching out to an audience in a more personal way and in finding my own opinions and voice. It served as a creative release, a different mode of storytelling, and a light journal (I try very hard not to be gloomy online as I don't need those deep dark moments preserved in the wayback machine forever and a day.)

I am surprised that I have been doing this for so long. In a few months it will be four years. That's enough time to have received a diploma at a college.

Occasionally I have thought of stopping but I enjoy the writing. The relationships I have made via this blog have stunned me. I have met a number of my local readers in person and befriended others on Facebook as well as on my blog. Some of the local readers have become real life friends, people I would not otherwise have met. It gives me shivers.

There is no money in this particular exercise, at least not yet. I have ads on here from google but let's face it, if I were depending on that for income we'd be pitching a tent and eating nuts and berries from the National Forest. I most recently added Amazon ads not because I expect people to buy the books I review but because google made it easy to do that and I wanted to be able to add the pictures without having to look things up. For me it was a time saver.

I have seen a number of folks come and go. Most recently Beth over at Blue Ridge Blue Collar Gal announced she would no longer blog because she needs to devote her time to finding a job. I respect that and certainly understand it, having found that the Internet has devalued my work tremendously. No one wants to pay a writer for their time, technique or knowledge anymore. Everyone thinks they can do it themselves, and the Internet and the business world is full of crap writing. It's a dumbing down of the worse kind but it's what happens when people reach for the lowest common denominator instead of striving for the best.

Even so, there is value in something like this that cannot be measured by the George Washingtons. I cannot put numbers on the friendships, the inspiration, the communication, and the ideas that have been bandied about on my blog and others. For someone like me, who values love, beauty and truth above all else, I fear something like this blog is priceless.

This anniversary of sorts has come at a great time. It is absolute proof that I can stick to something long-term. Somewhere along the way I got it in my head that I could not stick with a long project, most especially not novel-writing or weight loss. Those two in particular have escaped me time and again and I have always shrugged them away with that particular label. I don't know exactly where it came from, this idea that I am a will-o-the-wisp who dances and vanishes, but obviously it is not true. One doesn't blog for four years, or take eight years to finish college, stay married for 26 years, or freelance for 15 years and make decent go of it for most of that time without a little something of the swan in the soul.

So this idea that I cannot stick to a long term project must go. It is one of the 50 things I am throwing out of my life. I can do whatever I set my mind to, no matter how long it takes, if I take it just one blog entry at a time.

Thank you, blog friends, those I know and those I don't, for reading, commenting, and hopefully enjoying my work. I appreciate you very much, even those silent ones who come and go without a word. You make the world a little sweeter, and that's a very good thing indeed.

Books: Throw Out 50 Things

Throw Out Fifty Things
by Gail Blanke
270 pages
Copyright 2009

I mentioned this book recently but I had not read it. Now I've read it so here's the book review.

This is a great book. The author goes room by room and suggests certain items that all of us have - shampoo bottles under the sink or in the bathroom, old medicine bottles, magazines, etc. She considers piles of items to be one item, so if you toss out 500 magazines it only counts as one thing. I imagine one could consider that two if it were really that many!

After  clearing the clutter from the home and the office space, she moves on to internal clutter. Her pop psychology is very good and offers up a quick way to clear cobwebs, if nothing else.

I read the book through without doing any of the exercises but I will now go back and do those. Even if I don't, I have been inspired to rid myself of a few items that have been taking up space and which really do not need to be here. I have a small house and it's not like I have the room to spare.

First on my clean-out list, I think, will be the sock drawers. They generally get an annual cleaning anyway and I just this morning went to the store and returned with 20 new pairs of white crew socks for each of us. Yes, we are rednecked to the core.

After that I have a few big items in mind, some of which I will list here and maybe on Craig's List in hopes of selling and/or giving to a worthy home. If nothing else I see a yard sale in my future. We shall see how it goes.

If you have clutter, either external or internal, do yourself a favor and take a peek at the website link for this book, if nothing else.

Key to the book is to write down what you're throwing out and she has a workbook online that can help you with that. So I am off to start my list!

Thursday Thirteen

Today I present to you 13 reasons for using a community bank!



1. Community banks are not "too big to fail."

2. The government didn't give community banks any bail out money.

3. Community banks use real people and not automated phone systems that keep you on hold forever and a day. (Press 1 for English. Press 2 to hear your balance. Press 3 to transfer money. Press FU to tell us where to go.)

4. The real people know your name if you bank with them. Sometimes know who you are before you even introduce yourself, particularly if you're a local mini-celebrity.

5. The community banks are run by the local millionaire and not the big fat cat CEO who makes multi-millions.

6. The loan officer knows how to pronounce things like Botetourt (body-tot), Roanoke (Row-Noke), and Catawba (Cat-awe-ba).

7. Community banks approve a loan with just your tax returns and do not require a DNA, stool and urine sample.

8. The tellers don't ask your mother's maiden name because they already know it.

9. You receive a warm chocolate chip cookie if you bank on Fridays.

10. Community banks have customer appreciation days several times a year featuring hot dogs and soft drinks, and they sponsor local events like Art on the James and the Fincastle 5K run.

11. Loans in small amounts are welcome and the loan officer doesn't tell you to "just put it on your credit card."

12. You can still open up a Christmas Club account at a community bank.

13. You're helping your neighbors keep their jobs!



Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of bloggers. You can read more about it here. This is my 138th time to do this meme!

Eyes on Iris

The iris is one of my favorite flowers.



The yellow iris came from a deserted homestead in 1988. The place was on land my parents had recently purchased next to their farm and my mother gave me permission to dig up the flowers and move them.



The purple flowers came from my mother's collection around her home.



A line of iris separates the yard from the woods. These are generally slow to bloom, perhaps because of the lesser amount of sunlight.



I love to watch them dance in the breeze.



They make me feel calm.

Books: The Dragon of Despair

The Dragon of Despair
by Jane Lindskold
Copyright 2003
754 pages

This is the third book in Lindskold's Wolf series, the first being Through Wolf's Eye and Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart.

The books center around Firekeeper, aka Lady Blysse, a feral child raised by "royal wolves" in a western and unexplored area of a new world settlement. She is about 16 and in book one she was returned to civilization to be exploited by a noble who tried to pass her off as the granddaughter of the king through a son who had split with his father and settled in the wild country.

Firekeeper has a magical talent in that she can speak to animals. This is fantasy without high magic; very little conjuring. But magical talents lay latent in the people. Some heal, some fight well, at least one controls minds. The people in all but one of four lands dislike magic and shy from it.

In book three, we find Firekeeper at odds with herself. Is she human or wolf? Does she stay to protect her wolf family from another encroaching settlement or do as the king asks and go to the east to stop a sorceress? In the end she goes east because the king agrees to stop the settlement and she trusts his word.

In the east, Firekeeper and her friends (she has a lot of friends; while the books are about Firekeeper, they are really ensemble books with many heroes. I was mostly interested in Firekeeper, however.) must face off against a land that doesn't like foreigners as well as the sorceress, who is from their own land.

The book is quite detailed and being very long there are many plots and descriptions. I would call this political fantasy as opposed to just straight fantasy as there is a lot of intrigue and political maneuvering in these tomes.

There are two other books in this series but I think it will be a while before I read those. Time to move on to something new. I did not dislike this book but I am somewhat ambivalent about it and while I would welcome the other books I am in no hurry to read them.

Revenge of the Locust

The locust trees are in full bloom here. Every tree has blossoms hanging from each twig. I don't know that I have ever seen the locust bloom so much.

I am, of course, highly allergic.



The tree in the yard in full bloom.


A little closer look!



Even closer!



Another locust tree on the other side of the fence all decked out in white finery.



What I wouldn't give for a good hard rain to knock those blooms away! Achoo!

Thursday Thirteen

Here's a list of 13 words:

1. Endearing

2. Conservative

3. Hearty

4. Creative

5. Serious

6. Sociable

7. Traditional

8. Progressive

9. Achiever

10. Innovative

11. Genuine

12. Straightforward

13. Dynamic

Know what they all have in common?

You'll never guess.

They're the words I was given to rate from 1-10 with regards to how well they describe Hungry Jack Instant Mashed Potatoes during some kind of food use survey on Wednesday!



When I realized the list was going to be a long one I started writing down the words and sure enough, it went well beyond 13. Other words were "popular," "caring," "a brand with style" and my personal favorite, "old and stodgy."

I could not answer these with a straight face. Dynamic mashed potatoes? Conservative or progressive mashed potatoes? Really? Have we fallen so far that we must poll the populace as to the political persuasion of mashed potatoes?

As a word lover, I am loathe to describe instant mashed potatoes as anything other than, say, creamy and white. I don't think they're particularly healthy because they're little dried flakes that you reconstitute with milk. How is that good for you?

To be sure, I have no boxes of instant mashed potatoes in my pantry and it has been quite a long while since I have purchased said mashed potatoes.

But I do know that I only purchase Hungry Jack Instant Mashed Potatoes, I guess because they are just so lovable!

Oh, and by the way, the food survey company said I would be paid $5 for participating in the survey. In case that matters. I am not being paid to promote mashed potatoes by anyone, unless you count that Amazon link I stuck up there for the picture.

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of bloggers. You can read more about it here.  This is my 137th time to do this meme!

The Wind

The wind in April has blown as much as the winds of March, I fear.

Today the sky is blue with clouds blowing by. Puffy white clouds that hold no promise of rain and no semblance of shadow. It is a bit cool to be outside and the breeze bothers my ear terribly anyway.

The wind is blowing in gray for me and I am puzzled as to why.

I think I should figure this out, and so I sit and ponder. All I find in my head is the word "lost," as in, that is how I feel. Lost.

I have projects aplenty, things I can do. Lord knows I have drawers and cabinets to clean out and organize. Housework is never finished; the dust settles back as soon as the cloth passes over so I could spend all day simply waxing and shining, if I thought wax and shine were the end all unto themselves.

Alas, my inclination is toward "clean enough" and semi-neat, but not sparkling and pristine. We live in our house, my husband likes to say as he trudges through the kitchen with mud on his boots.

There is, of course, that idea, that dream, that urge and penchant, that desire to write a book that seems to be only a desire and not something I can put into motion. I have suffered through several false starts this week and have nothing to show for it but deleted files on the computer.

Well, that is not quite true. I created a 3-ring notebook for my work, one with nice little dividers that say "character" and "plot" and "research" and "situation" and "themes" and things of that nature. It has the name of my main character in it but little else. It sits on my desk, solid and real.

I also have reviewed notes on how to write character, how to find plot, how to write. It feels like starting all over even though I am a seasoned writer with thousands upon thousands of published words behind me, a list of articles so long that it literally would take sheets of paper to list them all, were I so inclined.

Sometimes I wonder if I am in love with being a writer, not writing. This cannot be, I think, for I love to write when it is flowing, when the story is hot, when the things being said are important, real, relevant. I love the puzzle of it, the seeking out of the proper word for the moment, the nuance that brings the detail to the mind. Am I so wounded, so sore and raw, that I simply cannot do it right now?

My dreams of writing were never so grand as the Great American Novel. I wanted to write Nancy Drew books. I think I still want to write Nancy Drew books, or something very like Nancy Drew books, only not for children. Because I have no children, I feel unable to relate to the youth of today. When I watch my nephews or my niece, or the offspring of friends, they move nimbly about, their fingers always working with the text on a phone, their bright little minds moving quickly while they multitask. They look at me as if I am old.

Am I old?

The expectations of me (from whence these come I am not certain, myself, perhaps?) have always been beyond Nancy Drew books. Beyond the Great American Novel, even. Maybe something along the lines of Jane Smiley, perhaps, or Anita Shreve, whose work I have been reading and greatly admire. I enjoy reading those books. But I also enjoy fantasy, science fiction, some mysteries (but not all), Gothic romances (another genre I've always thought to write in, but who publishes that in this day and age?), young adult fantasy books (Tamara Pierce), nonfiction such as self-help, history, and biographies, historical fiction, adventure, etc. etc. The only books I do not like to read are vampire books (Buffy the Vampire Slayer being the only exception), gory books (Patricia Cornwell comes to mind), horror (Steven King, though I have read him on occasion), and overtly sexual books (having read absolutely none of these I cannot name an author).

Today I renounce my perfectionism.

Is it this which holds me back? Is it my fear that whatever I put forth will be less somehow? Or is it that will include more of me than I care to allow.

I grew up in an atmosphere that did not allow mistakes. If I was not perfect, whatever that was, I was punished. But I could not attain that goal no matter how hard I tried. I am only human.

Only human. Am I trying to be something other than what I am? Do I even know who I am anymore? Have I ever?

Is this my revelation, blown in with the gray?

Books: Fortune's Rocks

Fortune's Rocks
By Anita Shreve
Copyright 1999
Audiobook, Abridged
Read by Blair Brown

Anita Shreve writes solid characters and engaging stories about people who might be your next door neighbor, if you are paying attention.

In this book, Olympia Biddeford, only child of a wealthy Boston couple, finds love on the beach in New Hampshire during the summer holiday at the home her parents own for this purpose.

She is but 15 when she seduces John Hasselbeck, a married man three times her age with a wife and three children (and who should have known better) and becomes his lover. Theirs is a passionate and devastating love affair that can only end badly, and indeed it does.

Olympia has a child by her lover, but the boy is whisked away by her disapproving father. For the next several years Olympia suffers under his heavy hand as he tries to undo the disgrace she has brought upon the family.

In a day of clarity, she realizes that she must revisit her past. A stroke of luck allows her to find her son, and she then goes after the boy through the court system.

Olympia is a very real character and the book has themes of class issues, wealth, status, money, and prejudices. There is no villain here, unless living is counted as the  villain, which I suppose it could be.

This is the second of Shreve's books I have listened to of late, the first being Sea Glass. I will not hesitate to read or listen to more of this author's work.

Hills

Sometime between 1970 and 1976, my grandfather would load up his white Ford with a blue interior with his two youngest sons, his two grandchildren, and his wife and head south for a day-long trip.

Our destination was Hills Department Store in Christiansburg and then to Floyd County.

Hills to my young eyes (somewhere between 7 and 12) was a marvel to behold. It held aisles of goodies unseen elsewhere, for in this age there was no Tanglewood Mall and definitely no Valley View. Most certainly there was no Walmart.

No, we had Hills. The store was a shiny wonder, neat, clean and full of stuff. I was intrigued by little statues of ponies and horses, Johnny West dolls, and  action figures (I never was much on Barbies or baby dolls.). Usually we went sometime in the summer, I suppose during my grandfather's vacation. Our small fists clutched a few dollars as we sought out treasures that we could not find at Newberry's in Salem (now a bank, I think) or at Arlan's on Williamson Road (where Happy's Flea Market is now).

They also gave away popcorn!

Once those purchases were made - and what a time my grandparents had rounding us kids back up and getting us in the car and away from the wonderland - we headed to Floyd (I think). I am sure we stopped to eat somewhere but it was our next destination that I awaited.

This was a store called either Sunnyside or Sunnybrook, I cannot be certain, that also held marvels. These marvels were a little on the darker side and appealed to my sense of the macabre; skulls, crossbones, dragons - things not of this world but of the imagination. I recall the store had two levels and the one which the kids gravitated to was not the level my grandparents visited. I do not recall what they purchased there but I know I sometimes regretfully saved my money whilst we were in Christiansburg in hopes of finding some strange and bizarrely enchanted piece to clutch and take home. I usually was rewarded.

I was reminded of these scarce but welcome expeditions when I was in Walmart this morning. Trips to this all-purpose mass department store depress me but are unavoidable. Sometimes it is the only place you can find what you need.

As I roamed the aisles searching for a salad spinner (which I found but did not buy), I couldn't help but think about how despairing I feel whenever I go into the big box store. Looking around, I saw people hurrying about their business, eyeing the yellow smiley "lower price" tags, faces unsmiling, bodies bent and broken.

I wondered what was the point. There was no wonder here, no delight in seeing something for the first time. It all looked tired and stale. Not to mention how bleak my thoughts grew when I thought about all of the poor underpaid foreign workers who have slaved to make $3 a day so that I could buy a salad spinner for $2.47.  Or the poor cashiers who make minimum wage and have no benefits but do have swollen feet and aching backs.

I once edited a book for a wealthy old gentleman. In doing this, I spent many hours in his home. His wife, complaining one day about his array of papers strewn about the living room, asked me what I suggested for organization. A filing cabinet, I replied.

When she asked where she might purchase one, I suggested Walmart.

"I do not shop at Walmart," she huffed. "I would never set foot in that store. I am surprised that you do."

I explained that I otherwise could not afford some of the things I needed if I did not shop at Walmart. Apparently she had been a woman of privilege for so long that she had forgotten that not everyone - actually most people - could not afford to hold to principles. I gently reminded her of that fact.

Department stores have a long history in this country. From five and dimes to Walmart, they have been the places where Americans shop.

Somehow, though, I don't think they are really the places where Americans dream.

50 Things?

Saturday I had lunch with a friend I hadn't seen in several weeks. After chit-chat and discussion of life's many quirks, twists, and changes, she mentioned she is reading a book called Throw Out 50 Things.

This friend has recently moved, and so had had the opportunity to box up and throw out a multitude of things. Many of those boxes ended up in her new basement or garage because she ran out of time to sort through them.

And so she finds herself with boxes of stuff. Stuff she wants to be rid of. Somehow she is not rid of it and finds the chore of getting rid of it daunting.

I do not have boxes of stuff, per se, although I do have things in boxes that would probably be better off in the trash.

Mostly I have piles. And drawers. And cabinets. I have, actually, 46 years of stuff in this house, some of which I brought with me when I married, and some of which I have accumulated in the interim. We've lived in our house for 23 years and I guarantee you that somewhere in the attic are leftover pieces of two-by-fours from the initial build.

So I am pack rat. My husband is also a pack rat. That means we hang on to things that have memories, things that might "someday" be useful, things that "look like something" even though we have no clue what that something might be.

I have warranty papers and manuals for small appliances that have long since died and made their way to appliance heaven shoved in my "warranty file" in the spare room. We have two junk drawers in the kitchen, full of nails, screws, matches, tape, garage ties, batteries, etc. etc. What do we need all this stuff for?

The book apparently also addresses other stuff. Mental stuff, like old thought processes that might have been good when you were five but which now need to be trashed. Habits might fall under the purview of this book, too - driving the same route, chewing your fingernails, twisting your hair, chewing your cheek, whatever it is that people do that they have done for years. Maybe you're stuck in an old relationship or two. Based on the website, all of this stuff needs to go (though I find the relationship one rather a difficult thing to consider myself.)

My friend offered to loan me her book when she finished, but I went ahead this morning and ordered a copy of it from Amazon. I do not need another book - books are part of the stuff of my life - but I thought this might be worth it. Besides, even if I do not NEED another book, there is always the wanting.

Fifty seems like a big number. I don't know how many drawers, files, cabinets, etc., I have in this house but I daresay it is more than 50. So if I just rid myself of one item out of each drawer, that would be that much less clutter.

Off the top of my head, I can think of these things that need doing:

• go through a huge box of floppy disks and toss them (maybe try to sell the old program? is there a market for this?
• box up all my old articles and newspapers
• clean out junk drawer #1 in the kitchen
• clean out junk drawer #2 in the kitchen
• clean out the pots and pans cabinet
• go through the drawer with the plastic containers and toss out anything that doesn't have a lid
• clean out the warranty file
• clean out the desk in the living room
• clean out my dresser
• clean out the cabinet in the bathroom

That's nine things that I can think of without breaking a sweat. Things that I could spend a lot of time doing to rid myself of clutter, but also it is clutter that is doing no harm by sitting where it is.

Which makes me think of inertia, but I suspect that's a blog entry for another day.

Thursday Thirteen: Questions for You!

Today I thought I'd pose 13 questions for you. I hope you will answer one or two of them in the comments section and come back to see what others say.


1. If you read a book that is set in your hometown, do you care if the author takes literary license to add or subtract details? For instance, if the heroine goes to Costco and there isn't a Costco within 500 miles of your town, does that bother you?

2. What is your favorite genre of books, and why?

3. Do you read poetry? If so, do you have a favorite poem or poet? What do you like about him/her?

4. Do you like where you live? If so, why? (Please don't name the place, but do note if it is rural, town, city, etc.)

5. In Genesis 4:1-26, Cain slays Abel and is banished. In 4:17 it reads: "Cain lay with his wife, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Enoch." Who do you think Cain married?

6. Do you think women should have the right the vote in the United States? Should they be able to own property? If yes, would you protest to keep these rights? (I know we already have these rights; I am wondering if anyone wants them enough to fight for them in this new day and age.)

7. How do you define "success"?

8. Do you think there is life elsewhere in the universe? How do you define "life" in this context? Must it be sentient beings or would finding living organisms be proof enough?

9. What is your favorite thing to study or learn about?

10. Is it okay to "say what you think" and insult people at any time, or should there be rules and manners that societies follow?

11. Do you think "going green" is a good thing? Why or why not?

12. Keeping with the green theme, why do you think the grass is always greener on the other side? Is this true? Why or why not?

13. What do you think is the ideal life? What can you do to make your own life more like this ideal?

Thursday Thirteen is played by many people. You can find a list of others who play here. My Thursday Thirteens are here. This is my 136th time to play.

Books: America's Women

America's Women: 400 years of Dolls, Drudges, Helpmates, and Heroines
By Gail Collins
Abridged Selections read by Jane Alexander
Copyright 2003

Rarely do I listen to an audiobook and then decide I want the print edition, but that is certainly the case for this volume.

America's Women is a wonderful synopsis of the struggles of women as well as an explanation of where we are today. I am left inspired and amazed.

Women died for the rights that females in this new millennium take for granted. They marched in the streets, they were force-fed to halt hunger strikes, they wrote books, and in Eleanor Roosevelt's case, married well and then subtly ran the country.

The narrative of this book danced with energy as I listened, awed, open-mouthed, and horrified, to the stories of the women of this nation. From Harriet Beecher Stowe to Sojourner Truth to bra-burning, this book was a total delight.

The information appears to have stopped at the year 2000 and I couldn't help but wonder who are the female leaders of today. Sadly I see no Betty Friedans, no Eleanor Roosevelts, and certainly no Sojourner Truths. In the age of such dissected information, when people camp out in certain corners with their own realities and truths and have minds as closed as clam shells, would any woman ever move to the forefront as these ancestors did?

The author, Gail Collins, is a woman of note in her own right. She is a New York Times columnist and I am sorry I am not overly familiar with her other work, though I certainly must have read it.

I plan to purchase this book and keep it on my bookshelf for the rest of my life. She has written another volume called When Everything Changed: The Amazing Journey of American Women from 1960 to the Present and I will definitely be looking for that book as well.

Yard Work

My husband decided the back yard needed to be reseeded.



He hauled in 8 loads of dirt. The dirt came from the pond, which he and my father-in-law dredged last fall. They removed a lot of soil from the bottom.



After he hauled the dirt, he arrived in the skid steer to shove the dirt around.



Once the dirt has dried out a little more, he will sow grass seed, probably later this week.

My role in all this work will come later, when we we smooth down the dirt. I will have to help rake.

Otherwise, I watched!

The Botetourt County Chorus

Saturday night my husband and I went to the D. Geraldine Lawson Performing Arts Center, home of Attic Produtions, to see the County Chorus present its "Parade of Hits."

The Arts Center is located less than a mile south of Fincastle on US 220.

The Botetourt County Chorus has been around for over 30 years, maybe closer to 40. My husband remembered them doing a bang-up job in 1976, during the county's Bicentennial Year.

The "Parade of Hits" consisted of songs from the 1940s or thereabouts. Many of them I knew and enjoyed. The chorus sang 25 songs.



The Chorus with its 23 members.



Loren Bruffey, Sr., who is also my father, sang a solo of Merle Travis's song Sixteen Tons. I can remember him singing that when I was a little girl.



Nancy Duffy, a neighbor whom I had not seen in many years, turned the Wheel of Fortune on the song of the same name.



Emilee Duffy, Jordyn Duffy and Abigail Crowder as the Three Little Kittens (they lost their mittens!).



Lisa McCray as Mother Goose and Tommy Duffy as Father Goose. Father Goose drew a lot of laughs.



The Three Little Kittens were joined by the Cat and Fiddle (Jordyn Duffy) and the Cow who jumped over the moon (Emmy Divers) along with the Dish and Spoon (Ainsley Burks) and Humpty Dumpty, Caleb Divers. They were later joined by the Three Blind Mice (Susannah Harris, Seth Harris and Rachel Crowder).



Zoe Bruffey, who is my niece, hammed it up as Li'l Bo Peep.



Father Goose and the gang!



Brent Watts, weatherman on WDBJ 7 and a Buchanan boy, was emcee. He rarely was still enough for a good picture!



Reta Bogess was the Doggie during How Much is that Doggie in the Window.



My father danced with his wife, Rita, during Vaya Con Dios, the last song of the evening.



Another picture of my niece, Zoe, because she is so cute!

And the doctor says...

I'm doomed.

Well, she didn't really say that and I suppose we all are doomed in that we shall all perish and make our way towards the pearly gates or the hell fires or the worm food or become one with the universe or whatever one thinks may happen when the eyes close and the soul departs.

She did say that the outlook according to my blood work simply is not pretty. So I feel doomed.

High blood pressure.
High cholesterol.
High bad cholesterol
Low good cholesterol.
High triglycerides.
Low potassium.

On the plus side my thyroid and sugar look good. Yay for me.

This is a hereditary thing; my brother has the same issues, and all of my mother's family has high blood pressure. My father's family is in California and while they are old folks I don't think any of them are in good health.

I worry more about the high blood pressure than I do the other issues, but the other issues obviously are a concern.

Last month I switched doctors. For many years I saw an old gentleman named Max Bertholf. He was a great doctor. He would pat you on the head when that is what you needed, kick you in the butt when that was what you needed, give you drugs when that was what you needed. He retired in 2005 and unfortunately my health care has suffered in the last five years.

The doctor I was seeing in the same group is nice enough, but I didn't feel cared for. The doctor never asked what I did during the day or what I did for a living or anything that might add to stress or other concerns. The doctor gave little information about diet or exercise and what was provided was no better than reading a book (which simply does not work for me, I need something else but I don't know what), pushed pills, and seemed to take a very hands-off approach to health care.

The last straw was over my blood pressure. Back in the winter the doctor changed my drugs. I started having mood swings. I looked up the drug and it said it could cause mood swings and to call your doctor immediately.

I called the doctor.

The doctor said the drug didn't cause mood swings and since my blood pressure wasn't where it should be, the drug should be doubled.

I didn't take the new dose. Instead I sought out a new doctor, who seems to be listening to me, if nothing else. She changed the blood pressure drug and then I had a physical with her last week.

Aside from the bad blood work, the blood pressure, and the fact that I am way too fat, the physical turned up nothing else.

This is quite frustrating because I don't drink or smoke. I drink soft drinks infrequently. Mostly I drink water. I walk on a treadmill 4-5 times a week for at least 20 minutes, frequently 30. I do Tai Chi twice a week or so. Obviously not a lot of exercise but not nothing. I eat too much chocolate but I am working on cutting that out of my diet completely.

I take fish oil and flax seed oil.  I don't eat much red meat. I cook with olive oil or safflower oil if I use oil at all. I eat very little bread, usually only when I eat out.

Still, I must be doing something very wrong.

Nothing like a little doom to ruin a lovely day.

Thursday Thirteen #135

On Tuesday I finished up a six-week seminar called Life Planning at Hollins University. The idea was to figure out where you've been, where you're going and what you're going to do.

Here are 13 things I have learned in the last six weeks.

1. A roomful of introverts leads to very quiet conversation and very little discussion.

2. My Myers-Briggs designation (free test at the link!) is INTJ. That means I'm Introverted, INtuitive, Thinking, Judging, or a perfectionist, imaginative, reliable, scrupulous, even-handed, and I want people to make sense. No wonder I feel so lost most of the time in this "new world order" we've been experiencing since the new millennium.

3. I need to consider finishing my masters' degree at Hollins. I am four classes and a thesis short of having another piece of paper on the wall. It might open a door. Or not.

4. The Hollins campus calls to me. Aside from my own home, there is no other place in the world that reaches out to me with open arms and says, "Hey, you belong here!" (I already knew this but I liked being reminded.)

5. Talking in front of people is not my forte. I can do it if I absolutely must, but my face turns red, my blood pressure rises, I get the internal shakes ("wind," my acupuncturist calls that), and I am basically terrified.

6. I can make a heckuva cheeseball when the facilitator decides we should end the seminar with a potluck.

7. Traveling is a dream or desire but when I think about the logistics of it - the packing, the worry about motel accommodations and bedbugs, etc., I'd just as soon stay home and look at places on Google Earth.

8. I have a very difficult time with personal "vision" and "mission" statements. Not to mention goals.

9. My knees are wearing out and climbing steps has become difficult (the seminar was on the basement level of Moody Center; thank goodness I remembered there was an elevator).

10. The number of women in the seminar who were interested in books and writing was astonishing. Nearly half the class wanted to do something in that field. Good luck, ladies! It's a dog-eat-goat and goat-trounce-on-dog sort of life.

11. A successful life can be whatever you want and however you define it. Societal definitions tend to lean towards being financially successful but personal definitions were more along the lines of being content and happy, having love, cherishing friends, and having a spiritual life.

12. One of the weekly exercises involved listing five plans you made for the future, which could be anything. Most of mine were things like haircuts, dinner with a friend or relative, and when I would wash the colored clothes and white.

13. I feel most content when I am at home writing or staring out the window. Lately I've done a lot of the latter and little of the former.

Lots of people play Thursday Thirteen. You can read about it here and find more Thursday Thirteen's to read if you  want. This is number 135 for me!

Books: Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart

Wolf's Head, Wolf's Heart
By Jane Lindskold
Copyright 2002
754 pages

The second installment in Lindskold's book about Firekeeper, the young girl raised by wolves in a land of enchantment, is a good sequel.

The story picks up where the first left off. Three enchanted objects have been stolen from Bright Bay, the kingdom newly-aligned with Hawk Haven. Firekeeper is summoned to a council of Royal Beasts, who give her history and background that was missing in the first book.

Firekeeper's friends, Derian, Elaine, and the doctor, stumble across clues that send them all off on a merry chase into a new realm as they seek out not only the enchanted objects but also a mysterious cousin who shown herself a proven evil in book one.

There is much political intrigue in Lindskold's storytelling, and she breathes life into entertaining and unique characters. Firekeeper's growing up and finding her human self; book three, on my shelf awaiting my attention, should prove interesting.

April is National Child Abuse Prevention Month

It saddens me that as a nation we need a month to draw attention to the plight of abused children, but we do.

Most people deny that children are abused. It happens "someplace else." People do not realize (or maybe they don't care?) that it is happening to their child's best friend or the kid next door. They may even be abusing their own child but because "that is the way I was brought up" they think is is perfectly okay.

It is NOT okay.

Child sex abuse is one of the most abhorrent crimes on the planet. Yet look at these statistics:

1 in 4 girls and 1 in 6 boys are sexually abused before the age of 18.

1 in 5 children are solicited sexually while on the internet.

Nearly 70% of all reported sexual assaults (including assaults on adults) occur to children ages 17 and under.

An estimated 39 million survivors of childhood sexual abuse exist in America today.

Even within the walls of their own homes, children are at risk for sexual abuse

Shocked? You should be. Those are horrible numbers. Break it down. One in four girls. In a classroom of 20 girls, that's five children. In a classroom of 24 boys, that is four boys. That's 9 kids in a group of 44. And those are the ones that are reported. If most kids never tell, just imagine how much horror is taking place in this country AT THIS VERY MOMENT.

Want more numbers?

30-40% of victims are abused by a family member. 

Another 50% are abused by someone outside of the family whom they know and trust.

Approximately 40% are abused by older or larger children whom they know.

Therefore, only 10% are abused by strangers.

Sexual abuse can occur at all ages, probably younger than you think

The median age for reported abuse is 9 years old.

More than 20% of children are sexually abused before the age of 8.

Nearly 50% of all victims of forcible sodomy, sexual assault with an object, and forcible fondling are children under 12.

Most children don't tell even if they have been asked.

Virginia has over 1.8 million children. Over 13 percent of those live in poverty (more than 1 in 10). In a classroom of 30 children, at least 3 are living in poverty.

In 2006, Virginia had 56,360 total referrals for child abuse and neglect. Of those, 29,141 reports were referred for investigation.

In 2006, 6,828 children were substantiated or indicated as abused or neglected in Virginia, a rate of 3.8 per 1,000 children, representing a 5.5% increase from 2005. Of these children, 4,204 were neglected, 1,904 were physically abused, and 950 were sexually abused.

In 2006, 20 children in Virginia died as a result of abuse or neglect.

In 2006, 7,843 children in Virginia lived apart from their families in out-of-home care, compared with 7,022 children in 2005. In 2006, 24.9% of the children living apart from their families were age 5 or younger, and 26.9% were 16 or older.

The National Child Abuse and Neglect Data System (NCANDS) reported an estimated 1,760 child fatalities in 2007. This translates to a rate of 2.35 children per 100,000 children in the general population (or one child in Botetourt County - is that acceptable?). NCANDS defines "child fatality" as the death of a child caused by an injury resulting from abuse or neglect, or where abuse or neglect was a contributing factor.

Research indicates that very young children (ages 3 and younger) are the most frequent victims of child fatalities.

Children are not objects. They are not things parents own. They are people, human beings in their own right.

Love them, discipline them, raise them, but don't abuse them.

It is never okay to hurt a child.