Home to Holly Springs
By Jan Karon
Audibook
Read by Scott Sowers
Unabridged
Copyright 2001
Some years ago, a friend suggested I read Jan Karon's books. I looked at them several times but never felt like they were right for me. For one thing, they were a series known as the Mitford books. That meant I wanted to start at the beginning.
They also came across as a little "preachy" from the back covers. So I always put them back.
However, this book was billed as "The First of the Father Tim Novels," so I thought I would try it when I saw it in the library. At least it was at the beginning of a series, and since the character was a church leader I rather knew what to expect.
This sweet story surprised me. It is a story of going home after a long time away. Father Tim is a retired minister who decides to return to his boyhood home after he receives a mysterious note with only two words: Come Home. He leaves his wife to her work as a children's book author and he and his dog head out.
Along the way he meets quite a number of characters, some young and therefore unknown to him, but also quite a few who remember him when he was a lad. A few of the chance encounters are a bit incredulous but I guess even ministers have miracles.
I liked that the book was interesting without being stressful. No one was being stabbed or murdered, there were no autopsies of dead bodies, and I had little fear that a main character was suddenly going to die. The book was not overtly religious (though there was a bit of that), and it did not preach too much (though it did a little). Given the lead character's profession, what was there seemed appropriate, usually. I can be quite put off by books that hit me over the head with their religion. This did not.
I won't hesitate to listen to a Jan Karon book again (though I still prefer to start at the beginning!).
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The Botetourt County Chorus
Last night we went to hear the Botetourt County Chorus present the Swingin' 60s. Tonight (April 16, 2011) they play at Central Academy Middle School at 7:30 p.m.
Do something different! Check them out.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Thursday Thirteen
April is National Poetry Month. It is also National Women's Month, so I thought I would share with you a few female poets. Or maybe that's poetesses. Anyway, check 'em out. These are in no particular order.
1. Sharon Olds. If you have not read any of this poet's work, you have missed out. Olds has great imagery and depth in her poems. Satan Says fascinated me the first time I read it and continues to do so upon subsequent readings. You can read one of her poems, called After Making Love in the Winter, at the link on the title.
2. Mary Oliver. My freshman English professor introduced me to this poet. She's an intimate writer who sees the world with open eyes. You may read some of her poems at this link.
3. Anne Singleton aka Ruth Benedict. I recently studied Ruth Benedict in her work as anthropologist, but she was also a poet. A genius of a woman. You may read one of her poems at this link.
4. Emily Dickinson. It would be rather hard to leave her off this list, wouldn't it? I Felt a Funeral, In my Brain, found at the link, is one of my favorites.
5. Annie Dillard. Best known for her Pulitzer Prize winning book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Dillard also writes interesting poetry. She's an alumna of Hollins University, where I received my undergraduate degree and am currently working on a master's. You may read one of her poems at this link.
6. Nikki Giovanni. She's a professor at nearby Virginia Tech. After the Virginia Tech shooting a few years ago, she was inspiration. Her poem, The American Vision of Abraham Lincoln At This Moment, may be read at the link.
7. Jeanne Larsen. She's a professor at Hollins and I had her as an undergraduate student. She is one of my favorite people not only because her poetry is so wonderful but because she is friendly and kind and has a great sense of humor. Her poetry inspired me for a long time and for a while there I thought I might become a poet, too. I suppose it is not yet too late. You may read her poem, My Aging Lover in My Arms, the Dharma, at the link.
8. Natasha Tretheway. Another Hollins grad; her father, also a poet, is a Hollins professor. Natasha won the Pulitzer for poetry in 2007. The local library had her in for a reading about the time she received her prize and I heard her read there. You can watch a video of her reading one of her poems at the link.
9. Margaret Atwood. Surprised? Thought she was a novelist? While The Handmaid's Tale might be one of the best books ever (and certainly one that is on the verge of coming true, alas), she also puts her pen to the poetry. At this link, you may hear Atwood read a number of her poems. Poems are meant to be heard as much as read.
10. Erica Jong. She writes more than Fear of Flying. Her website opens up with her reading a poem called Conjuring Her from her book Love Comes First. You can find a list of poems on her website at the link.
11. Gwendolyn Brooks. Her poem, We Real Cool, is one that has always stuck with me. It was written in 1966. Things haven't changed much.
12. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways . . . hey, we all know that one, right? You may read some of her other poems at the link.
13. I don't proclaim to be a poet, and I certainly am not in the same league as anyone I mention above, but I thought I would leave you with a poem of my own. I don't think this one's ever been workshopped or otherwise seen the light of day:
Blackberry Weather
By Anita Firebaugh
The hayfield's cut across the road,
eleven rows of orchard grass
await the hay rake's caress.
Another twenty acres wave emerald
in a chilly May breeze, waiting for the slice
of the mower's blade.
When new leaves whoosh with wind,
the tulip poplars spit blooms,
and the cardinal cries 'wetchoo'
from the blue spruce,
it's mowing time.
Clouds, sun speckle the sky,
crows cry from the pines.
Blue Ridge Mountains reach out,
grab the green hills in a hug.
Sunlight dances across Stone
Coal Gap -- remember that story
of the long lost gold?
The hay smells sweet, mixed
with honeysuckle. I taste the blade
of grass when it's caught
in a whistle. Touch the blackberry
brambles, filled with pink and white
flowers. If rains bring plump berries
this summer we'll make wine.
1. Sharon Olds. If you have not read any of this poet's work, you have missed out. Olds has great imagery and depth in her poems. Satan Says fascinated me the first time I read it and continues to do so upon subsequent readings. You can read one of her poems, called After Making Love in the Winter, at the link on the title.
2. Mary Oliver. My freshman English professor introduced me to this poet. She's an intimate writer who sees the world with open eyes. You may read some of her poems at this link.
3. Anne Singleton aka Ruth Benedict. I recently studied Ruth Benedict in her work as anthropologist, but she was also a poet. A genius of a woman. You may read one of her poems at this link.
4. Emily Dickinson. It would be rather hard to leave her off this list, wouldn't it? I Felt a Funeral, In my Brain, found at the link, is one of my favorites.
5. Annie Dillard. Best known for her Pulitzer Prize winning book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Dillard also writes interesting poetry. She's an alumna of Hollins University, where I received my undergraduate degree and am currently working on a master's. You may read one of her poems at this link.
6. Nikki Giovanni. She's a professor at nearby Virginia Tech. After the Virginia Tech shooting a few years ago, she was inspiration. Her poem, The American Vision of Abraham Lincoln At This Moment, may be read at the link.
7. Jeanne Larsen. She's a professor at Hollins and I had her as an undergraduate student. She is one of my favorite people not only because her poetry is so wonderful but because she is friendly and kind and has a great sense of humor. Her poetry inspired me for a long time and for a while there I thought I might become a poet, too. I suppose it is not yet too late. You may read her poem, My Aging Lover in My Arms, the Dharma, at the link.
8. Natasha Tretheway. Another Hollins grad; her father, also a poet, is a Hollins professor. Natasha won the Pulitzer for poetry in 2007. The local library had her in for a reading about the time she received her prize and I heard her read there. You can watch a video of her reading one of her poems at the link.
9. Margaret Atwood. Surprised? Thought she was a novelist? While The Handmaid's Tale might be one of the best books ever (and certainly one that is on the verge of coming true, alas), she also puts her pen to the poetry. At this link, you may hear Atwood read a number of her poems. Poems are meant to be heard as much as read.
10. Erica Jong. She writes more than Fear of Flying. Her website opens up with her reading a poem called Conjuring Her from her book Love Comes First. You can find a list of poems on her website at the link.
11. Gwendolyn Brooks. Her poem, We Real Cool, is one that has always stuck with me. It was written in 1966. Things haven't changed much.
12. Elizabeth Barrett Browning. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways . . . hey, we all know that one, right? You may read some of her other poems at the link.
13. I don't proclaim to be a poet, and I certainly am not in the same league as anyone I mention above, but I thought I would leave you with a poem of my own. I don't think this one's ever been workshopped or otherwise seen the light of day:
Blackberry Weather
By Anita Firebaugh
The hayfield's cut across the road,
eleven rows of orchard grass
await the hay rake's caress.
Another twenty acres wave emerald
in a chilly May breeze, waiting for the slice
of the mower's blade.
When new leaves whoosh with wind,
the tulip poplars spit blooms,
and the cardinal cries 'wetchoo'
from the blue spruce,
it's mowing time.
Clouds, sun speckle the sky,
crows cry from the pines.
Blue Ridge Mountains reach out,
grab the green hills in a hug.
Sunlight dances across Stone
Coal Gap -- remember that story
of the long lost gold?
The hay smells sweet, mixed
with honeysuckle. I taste the blade
of grass when it's caught
in a whistle. Touch the blackberry
brambles, filled with pink and white
flowers. If rains bring plump berries
this summer we'll make wine.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 186th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
A Generic Rant
This is a rant. I don't do these often, but please feel free to bypass this blog entry if you wish.
About five weeks ago, I picked up my prescription for my blood pressure medication and brought it home.
The pills were different. I called the pharmacy. Did you give me the wrong pills, I asked. No, we changed our generic supplier and didn't tell you.
Cue now to today. My blood pressure has been creeping steadily upward over - you guessed it - the last five weeks. It has culminated in a major headache and high and somewhat scary blood pressure numbers. I am counting the hours until I can get in to see my doctor. All of this so the pharmacy can save a few pennies while I feel terrible and die a slow and agonizing death.
My insurance company, of course, won't pay for the name brand medication, and the pharmacy won't sell me the name brand medication because I have insurance. How's that for a nice catch-22?
Changing generics wouldn't be a problem if the generics were actually the same as the name brand medication. However, I have found this is not so. This is not the first time the pharmacy has changed generics with my blood pressure medication and I have had problems. It is a problem I have with nearly all of my medications when I am switched from brand name to the supposedly the same but not generic. It's a well-documented problem that no one is doing anything about.
But we don't want no government regulations in this country! We can't have any one tell us what to do. What the hell? Why is it better that some idiot in a private healthcare company tell me what to do than the government? What damn difference does it make? I'm still being told what I can and can't do and I'm still suffering for it! I'm paying over $7,000 a year for the privilege of being told by some high school beauty queen that the medication my doctor prescribes for me isn't the drug they want me to take.
Is this better because I have the choice of which stupid insurance company to use? Well, guess what, I don't really have a choice. I am on the insurance provided by husband's place of employment because we can't afford anything else. Neither can anyone else I know.
Better yet, the laws are already in place that keep me on this insurance AND HAVE BEEN FOR THE LAST 20 YEARS OR SO. I can't switch because apparently by law I have to be on the insurance provided by my employer. I happen to know I can go to an insurance company down the road and get the exact same policy with the exact same provider for half the price, but because my husband's company offers it, I have to get it there. That is what the insurance agent told me. They can't sell it to me. It's the law and it has been since Ronald Reagan, that great Republican god of commerce and industry.
And this is better? This is great? This is American health care, capitalist style, because all we furking care about in this country is the big green great Goddamn almighty dollar. We live in a society of hooray for me and furk you and I am sick of it.
I am sick of being told that a stupid piece of paper with George Washington's picture on it is more important than any single person's health. I am sick of being told that piece of paper is more important that helping people with mental illness, or putting roofs over the heads of people who are living in their cars.
I am sick of hearing that this stupid piece of paper is more important than education, than health care, than you and me. It's a stupid furking piece of paper! It is not more important than any single living soul on this planet. Stop worshiping money, people! Stop it stop it stop it! It is not the Holy Grail. It is not the reason to live.
The reason to live is to have relationships, to love, to honor, to feel, to care, to provide for yourself and others in the best way you know how. It's not about collecting stupid pieces of green paper! It is not! Why do we think it is?
And why when someone wants to live for peace and brotherhood, and goodness and kindness, why do we rip that person apart? We are one screwed up society. We're a bunch a freaking mental cases running around. The sane people can't be heard because the lunatics are screaming so loud no one can hear anything else.
Let me tell you something. I believe in people. I believe in putting people first, dollars second. I believe in government regulations and taking care of people.
If the fact that I care about you more than I do the dollar bills in my wallet makes me a socialist, then fine, I'm a socialist. Call me names if it will make you feel better. You know I'm right in the long run.
Now excuse me, I'm going to take some generic acetaminophen that probably won't help this headache because it isn't as good as the name brand.
About five weeks ago, I picked up my prescription for my blood pressure medication and brought it home.
The pills were different. I called the pharmacy. Did you give me the wrong pills, I asked. No, we changed our generic supplier and didn't tell you.
Cue now to today. My blood pressure has been creeping steadily upward over - you guessed it - the last five weeks. It has culminated in a major headache and high and somewhat scary blood pressure numbers. I am counting the hours until I can get in to see my doctor. All of this so the pharmacy can save a few pennies while I feel terrible and die a slow and agonizing death.
My insurance company, of course, won't pay for the name brand medication, and the pharmacy won't sell me the name brand medication because I have insurance. How's that for a nice catch-22?
Changing generics wouldn't be a problem if the generics were actually the same as the name brand medication. However, I have found this is not so. This is not the first time the pharmacy has changed generics with my blood pressure medication and I have had problems. It is a problem I have with nearly all of my medications when I am switched from brand name to the supposedly the same but not generic. It's a well-documented problem that no one is doing anything about.
But we don't want no government regulations in this country! We can't have any one tell us what to do. What the hell? Why is it better that some idiot in a private healthcare company tell me what to do than the government? What damn difference does it make? I'm still being told what I can and can't do and I'm still suffering for it! I'm paying over $7,000 a year for the privilege of being told by some high school beauty queen that the medication my doctor prescribes for me isn't the drug they want me to take.
Is this better because I have the choice of which stupid insurance company to use? Well, guess what, I don't really have a choice. I am on the insurance provided by husband's place of employment because we can't afford anything else. Neither can anyone else I know.
Better yet, the laws are already in place that keep me on this insurance AND HAVE BEEN FOR THE LAST 20 YEARS OR SO. I can't switch because apparently by law I have to be on the insurance provided by my employer. I happen to know I can go to an insurance company down the road and get the exact same policy with the exact same provider for half the price, but because my husband's company offers it, I have to get it there. That is what the insurance agent told me. They can't sell it to me. It's the law and it has been since Ronald Reagan, that great Republican god of commerce and industry.
And this is better? This is great? This is American health care, capitalist style, because all we furking care about in this country is the big green great Goddamn almighty dollar. We live in a society of hooray for me and furk you and I am sick of it.
I am sick of being told that a stupid piece of paper with George Washington's picture on it is more important than any single person's health. I am sick of being told that piece of paper is more important that helping people with mental illness, or putting roofs over the heads of people who are living in their cars.
I am sick of hearing that this stupid piece of paper is more important than education, than health care, than you and me. It's a stupid furking piece of paper! It is not more important than any single living soul on this planet. Stop worshiping money, people! Stop it stop it stop it! It is not the Holy Grail. It is not the reason to live.
The reason to live is to have relationships, to love, to honor, to feel, to care, to provide for yourself and others in the best way you know how. It's not about collecting stupid pieces of green paper! It is not! Why do we think it is?
And why when someone wants to live for peace and brotherhood, and goodness and kindness, why do we rip that person apart? We are one screwed up society. We're a bunch a freaking mental cases running around. The sane people can't be heard because the lunatics are screaming so loud no one can hear anything else.
Let me tell you something. I believe in people. I believe in putting people first, dollars second. I believe in government regulations and taking care of people.
If the fact that I care about you more than I do the dollar bills in my wallet makes me a socialist, then fine, I'm a socialist. Call me names if it will make you feel better. You know I'm right in the long run.
Now excuse me, I'm going to take some generic acetaminophen that probably won't help this headache because it isn't as good as the name brand.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Prevent Child Abuse
April is Child Abuse Prevention Month in the United States.
The statistics are sobering.
Every 84 minutes in this country, a child is abused or neglected.
Every 8 days, a child dies from abuse or neglect, often at the hands of a parent. In Virginia, every 6 days a child under the age of 19 is murdered.
Every 5 hours, a Virginia child witnesses an act of domestic violence.
In Virginia, over the most recent one-year period for which information is available, 48,915 reports of child abuse were filed with Social Services. Over 6,200 of those reports were substantiated, meaning there was plenty of evidence to support a determination of abuse. Maybe not so bad, you think, but that means the rest were marginal enough to cause concern to somebody.
Also:
• 55.31% of the maltreatment was due to physical neglect, a failure to provide food, clothing, shelter or supervision to the child to the extent that the child’s health was endangered.
• 25.86% of the maltreatment was due to physical abuse.
• 13.39% of the maltreatment was due to sexual abuse.
• 2.05% of the maltreatment was due to medical neglect.
• 2.10% of the maltreatment was due to mental abuse/neglect.
Of those reports, 65 % of the victims were white. Thirty-two percent were black.
In 2010, 44 children died from abuse in Virginia. Of those 44, 40 were aged four or younger.
Child abuse costs the United States $258 million per day.
What constitutes child abuse?
• non-accidental physical or mental injury, including, but not limited to a child who is with his parent during the manufacture or sale of certain drugs.
• neglect or refusal to provide adequate food, clothing, shelter, emotional nurturing, or health care.
• abandonment.
• failure to provide adequate supervision in relation to the child’s age and level of development.
• committing or allowing to be committed any illegal sexual act upon a child including incest, rape, fondling, indecent exposure, prostitution, or allows a child to be used in any sexually explicit visual material.
• knowingly leaving a child alone in the same dwelling with a person who is not related to the child by blood or marriage and who is required to register as a violent sexual offender.
Child abuse is not usually just one physical attack or just one instance of failure to meet a child’s most basic needs. Usually child abuse is a pattern of behavior which takes place over a period of time. The longer child abuse continues, the more serious it becomes, and the more difficult it is to stop.
Isn't it time we stop this madness?
The statistics are sobering.
Every 84 minutes in this country, a child is abused or neglected.
Every 8 days, a child dies from abuse or neglect, often at the hands of a parent. In Virginia, every 6 days a child under the age of 19 is murdered.
Every 5 hours, a Virginia child witnesses an act of domestic violence.
In Virginia, over the most recent one-year period for which information is available, 48,915 reports of child abuse were filed with Social Services. Over 6,200 of those reports were substantiated, meaning there was plenty of evidence to support a determination of abuse. Maybe not so bad, you think, but that means the rest were marginal enough to cause concern to somebody.
Also:
• 55.31% of the maltreatment was due to physical neglect, a failure to provide food, clothing, shelter or supervision to the child to the extent that the child’s health was endangered.
• 25.86% of the maltreatment was due to physical abuse.
• 13.39% of the maltreatment was due to sexual abuse.
• 2.05% of the maltreatment was due to medical neglect.
• 2.10% of the maltreatment was due to mental abuse/neglect.
Of those reports, 65 % of the victims were white. Thirty-two percent were black.
In 2010, 44 children died from abuse in Virginia. Of those 44, 40 were aged four or younger.
Child abuse costs the United States $258 million per day.
What constitutes child abuse?
• non-accidental physical or mental injury, including, but not limited to a child who is with his parent during the manufacture or sale of certain drugs.
• neglect or refusal to provide adequate food, clothing, shelter, emotional nurturing, or health care.
• abandonment.
• failure to provide adequate supervision in relation to the child’s age and level of development.
• committing or allowing to be committed any illegal sexual act upon a child including incest, rape, fondling, indecent exposure, prostitution, or allows a child to be used in any sexually explicit visual material.
• knowingly leaving a child alone in the same dwelling with a person who is not related to the child by blood or marriage and who is required to register as a violent sexual offender.
Child abuse is not usually just one physical attack or just one instance of failure to meet a child’s most basic needs. Usually child abuse is a pattern of behavior which takes place over a period of time. The longer child abuse continues, the more serious it becomes, and the more difficult it is to stop.
Isn't it time we stop this madness?
Saturday, April 09, 2011
Friday, April 08, 2011
The Giant Hands
On April 1 in Daleville, two gigantic hands appeared on the horizon above the Botetourt Commons.
As of yesterday, when I finally had my camera with me and could stop and take a photo, the truck advertising the "giant killing service" and the hands remained.
I believe this was the product of Mark Cline, who created the Foamhenge display near Natural Bridge in Rockbridge County. I knew he was looking in the area because he had contacted a friend of mine who has road frontage on US 220 but ultimately went with the location near Kroger.
I thought this was a great prank, but I wonder how many people even noticed? It received a little publicity but not as much as I would have thought. So many people are so intent on what they are doing and where they are going - intent on themselves - that they don't pay much attention to what is going on around them.
At least one other local blogger pointed it out, though. Way to go, Tanya!
Anyway, I wanted to share it with you all, my gentle readers, and I hope you get a good laugh!
As of yesterday, when I finally had my camera with me and could stop and take a photo, the truck advertising the "giant killing service" and the hands remained.
I believe this was the product of Mark Cline, who created the Foamhenge display near Natural Bridge in Rockbridge County. I knew he was looking in the area because he had contacted a friend of mine who has road frontage on US 220 but ultimately went with the location near Kroger.
I thought this was a great prank, but I wonder how many people even noticed? It received a little publicity but not as much as I would have thought. So many people are so intent on what they are doing and where they are going - intent on themselves - that they don't pay much attention to what is going on around them.
At least one other local blogger pointed it out, though. Way to go, Tanya!
Anyway, I wanted to share it with you all, my gentle readers, and I hope you get a good laugh!
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Thursday Thirteen #185
Today it's the positive 13! This year, during the first Thursday of the month I am looking back at the previous month to recount 13 good things that happened the month before. I can be a bit negative sometimes, so I am trying to take the time to remember that all is not bleak and bad!
So here are good things from March:
1. I received an A on my first "real" paper in Sociology. I was quite pleased. The paper was on Harriet Martineau and her book, How to Observe Morals and Manners. I also received an A on an oral presentation on the Chicago School/Hull House (early 20th century "settlement" established to learn about and to assist the less fortunate). I have always been a good student, and I am glad that age hasn't changed that!
2. My allergies stayed under control, for the most part, thanks to a new steroid nasal spray, VeraMyst, that I started using regularly.
3. It's spring! Thank goodness. Warmer temperatures, flowers (ah . . . ah . . . choo!), green grass. Time to put the heavy coat back into the closet!
4. I walked on the treadmill 12 out of 31 days of the month. (I keep a record.) That's not as frequently as I would like - better than nothing, of course, so I will celebrate that! I want to do at least 20 out of 30 days. I will offer up a pulled muscle as a reason for not at least walking every other day, as I had to take a little rest for a few days to let that heal.
5. A new friend from class, someone 20 years my junior, has given me much to think about. I have enjoyed getting to know someone in her age bracket. I think it is good to learn to listen and talk to people of all ages.
6. I had a massage. I try to have one a month because it really helps my back. I highly recommend it for stress reduction and overall good health.
7. Reiki is a "Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing." It's a kind of energy healing, like a laying on of hands. I have found this helpful in the past, and so I tried out a new Reiki practitioner in late March.
8. I think I have settled on a topic for the 50+ page thesis I must write in order to obtain my master's degree. I am pretty happy with the ideas I have.
10. I had lunch a couple of times with good friends. I am always so thankful for the people in my life.
11. I read these books: The Walk, by Richard Paul Evans, Every Day by the Sun, by Dean Faulkner Wells, Women & Economics, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. The latter, written in 1898, was for my sociology class. Very thought-provoking.
12. We had a little snow in late March, but fortunately it was gone by lunchtime. My kind of snow!
So here are good things from March:
1. I received an A on my first "real" paper in Sociology. I was quite pleased. The paper was on Harriet Martineau and her book, How to Observe Morals and Manners. I also received an A on an oral presentation on the Chicago School/Hull House (early 20th century "settlement" established to learn about and to assist the less fortunate). I have always been a good student, and I am glad that age hasn't changed that!
2. My allergies stayed under control, for the most part, thanks to a new steroid nasal spray, VeraMyst, that I started using regularly.3. It's spring! Thank goodness. Warmer temperatures, flowers (ah . . . ah . . . choo!), green grass. Time to put the heavy coat back into the closet!
4. I walked on the treadmill 12 out of 31 days of the month. (I keep a record.) That's not as frequently as I would like - better than nothing, of course, so I will celebrate that! I want to do at least 20 out of 30 days. I will offer up a pulled muscle as a reason for not at least walking every other day, as I had to take a little rest for a few days to let that heal.
5. A new friend from class, someone 20 years my junior, has given me much to think about. I have enjoyed getting to know someone in her age bracket. I think it is good to learn to listen and talk to people of all ages.
6. I had a massage. I try to have one a month because it really helps my back. I highly recommend it for stress reduction and overall good health.
7. Reiki is a "Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing." It's a kind of energy healing, like a laying on of hands. I have found this helpful in the past, and so I tried out a new Reiki practitioner in late March. 8. I think I have settled on a topic for the 50+ page thesis I must write in order to obtain my master's degree. I am pretty happy with the ideas I have.
9. Someone backed into my car - twice - while it was parked, which was not a very good thing, but I am quite thankful he had insurance and the company has agreed to fix the damage.
10. I had lunch a couple of times with good friends. I am always so thankful for the people in my life.
11. I read these books: The Walk, by Richard Paul Evans, Every Day by the Sun, by Dean Faulkner Wells, Women & Economics, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. The latter, written in 1898, was for my sociology class. Very thought-provoking.
12. We had a little snow in late March, but fortunately it was gone by lunchtime. My kind of snow!13. I watched the super moon of March 19 set behind the mountains, and took a video of it. You can see that here if you want.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 185th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
Women Writers: Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1860-1935) is perhaps best known for her short story/novella, The Yellow Wallpaper. This is a story which details the onset of madness. The narrator, a woman of means, is placed into her bedroom and told to stay there "for her health." This "medical treatment" ultimately drives her insane. It is a graphic and illustrative account of why women who are stuck at home when they don't want to be there go crazy. Monotony and boredom exact a terrible price.
Gilman, who was also a sociologist, wrote the story to illustrate how society has created a lack of automony and self-sufficiency for women, and how detrimental this is to their health and wellbeing. Gilman also wrote a book called Women and Economics, which was highly lauded in its day, because it points out how women are enslaved and prostituted by marriage and by their inability, through societal pressures and processes, to become creative, happy, productive citizens. The book says that women's economic dependence upon men has been detrimental to all of humanity and has, in fact, crippled mankind as a whole.
The book goes on to point out that men are crippled now by this arrangement, because society has trapped them into caring for this female they have taken on. Gilman envisioned a better society wherein each spouse has an equal role, with most household chores left to others (though one wonders what the "others" think of this society; she did not address this and it seemed to be one of the largest flaws in the book).
Gilman was a prominent lecturer and speaker of her time. She was very active in feminist and reformist organizations. She called herself a humanist and a "reform Darwinist" in that she believed Darwin neglected the female half of the population in his theories (isn't that always the case?). She claimed that society was androcentric (male or masculine point of view) and that this needed to change to better balance the roles of females in society. Her contention was that people are people, regardless of sex, and women are no worse than men.
The author published several thousand pieces of work. She married twice and had one child. She committed suicide at the age of 75 after a three-year battle with breast cancer.
Gilman, who was also a sociologist, wrote the story to illustrate how society has created a lack of automony and self-sufficiency for women, and how detrimental this is to their health and wellbeing. Gilman also wrote a book called Women and Economics, which was highly lauded in its day, because it points out how women are enslaved and prostituted by marriage and by their inability, through societal pressures and processes, to become creative, happy, productive citizens. The book says that women's economic dependence upon men has been detrimental to all of humanity and has, in fact, crippled mankind as a whole.
The book goes on to point out that men are crippled now by this arrangement, because society has trapped them into caring for this female they have taken on. Gilman envisioned a better society wherein each spouse has an equal role, with most household chores left to others (though one wonders what the "others" think of this society; she did not address this and it seemed to be one of the largest flaws in the book).
Gilman was a prominent lecturer and speaker of her time. She was very active in feminist and reformist organizations. She called herself a humanist and a "reform Darwinist" in that she believed Darwin neglected the female half of the population in his theories (isn't that always the case?). She claimed that society was androcentric (male or masculine point of view) and that this needed to change to better balance the roles of females in society. Her contention was that people are people, regardless of sex, and women are no worse than men.
The author published several thousand pieces of work. She married twice and had one child. She committed suicide at the age of 75 after a three-year battle with breast cancer.
Sunday, April 03, 2011
Security
This morning I found myself pondering the meaning of security. It's an interesting word.
Security can be had in many different ways. There is security of your surroundings, such as when you're locked up in your home. You feel safe because no one can harm you.
There is security in a crowd, perhaps. With many people around, you might feel safe because you are not alone. Someone else, though, might not feel so secure because there are so many people around. Depends on the crowd and your frame of mind, I guess.
Maybe you need to see a policeman in the crowd to feel secure. I think some people would like it if the army patrolled the lands - that might make them feel secure, although it would make me feel afraid.
That brings us to national security, doesn't it. Apparently many people are willing to lose their freedoms in order to feel that they are secure when they fly or otherwise move about. These folks applaud when their pocketbooks are searched at the civic center, when teenagers are stopped and questioned simply because they look suspicious, or when someone who is "other" is profiled on the highway. I guess these people think the bad guys are everywhere and you're guilty until proven otherwise. Our last president established an office of Homeland Security to keep the "mother land" safe. That kind of talk gives me the willies but apparently it makes other people feel more secure.
There is financial security that might come from knowing you have $20 in your pocket - or having $20 million in the bank (don't know the feeling of that one). If you don't feel financially secure, and these days I don't know many people who do, then I suspect you feel quite anxious much of the time. Securities are also things one might purchase in the financial world, a type of investment policy, maybe something like a life insurance policy. Social Security is a program that was put in place to keep people who are older or who might be a little different from the norm from eating dogfood and sleeping in a box under the overpass. Some people don't like for others to have this type of security.
Computer security might come from having a good virus program. Or maybe never plugging the thing into the Internet. That would certainly work!
It important to keep all of your personal data safe these days - it must be secure so that no one can steal your identity or get into your accounts and abscam with your money. This can be kind of tough in a world where evildoers are always trying to hack into things.
Job security, I think, is a thing of the past. Historically, a person could obtain a decent job that they did well and liked, and stay at it for 30 years. Now, people move from place to place and no job is secure. Companies let people go for no reason at all. Just like that, you're out the door.
You might feel secure in your love for your spouse and children, or your god. That might bring a feeling of spiritual security, which I think is something one might strive for. Maybe that is all love security? Perhaps if we have this we don't need the other kinds of security.
I wonder how many people feel secure these days in all parts of their lives. I am betting not too many. How about you? Are you secure, or is there something lacking in some parts of your life?
Security can be had in many different ways. There is security of your surroundings, such as when you're locked up in your home. You feel safe because no one can harm you.
There is security in a crowd, perhaps. With many people around, you might feel safe because you are not alone. Someone else, though, might not feel so secure because there are so many people around. Depends on the crowd and your frame of mind, I guess.
Maybe you need to see a policeman in the crowd to feel secure. I think some people would like it if the army patrolled the lands - that might make them feel secure, although it would make me feel afraid.
That brings us to national security, doesn't it. Apparently many people are willing to lose their freedoms in order to feel that they are secure when they fly or otherwise move about. These folks applaud when their pocketbooks are searched at the civic center, when teenagers are stopped and questioned simply because they look suspicious, or when someone who is "other" is profiled on the highway. I guess these people think the bad guys are everywhere and you're guilty until proven otherwise. Our last president established an office of Homeland Security to keep the "mother land" safe. That kind of talk gives me the willies but apparently it makes other people feel more secure.
There is financial security that might come from knowing you have $20 in your pocket - or having $20 million in the bank (don't know the feeling of that one). If you don't feel financially secure, and these days I don't know many people who do, then I suspect you feel quite anxious much of the time. Securities are also things one might purchase in the financial world, a type of investment policy, maybe something like a life insurance policy. Social Security is a program that was put in place to keep people who are older or who might be a little different from the norm from eating dogfood and sleeping in a box under the overpass. Some people don't like for others to have this type of security.
Computer security might come from having a good virus program. Or maybe never plugging the thing into the Internet. That would certainly work!
It important to keep all of your personal data safe these days - it must be secure so that no one can steal your identity or get into your accounts and abscam with your money. This can be kind of tough in a world where evildoers are always trying to hack into things.
Job security, I think, is a thing of the past. Historically, a person could obtain a decent job that they did well and liked, and stay at it for 30 years. Now, people move from place to place and no job is secure. Companies let people go for no reason at all. Just like that, you're out the door.
You might feel secure in your love for your spouse and children, or your god. That might bring a feeling of spiritual security, which I think is something one might strive for. Maybe that is all love security? Perhaps if we have this we don't need the other kinds of security.
I wonder how many people feel secure these days in all parts of their lives. I am betting not too many. How about you? Are you secure, or is there something lacking in some parts of your life?
Saturday, April 02, 2011
In the Year . . .
The other day I was out and about and a person I was speaking to informed me that next year begins the Age of Aquarius.
This was a new one for me. I had heard about the doomsday scenarios for 2012 but not this.
In case you are wondering what I am talking about, apparently next year will be one of great change. The main reason for this is because the Mayan calendar ends on December 21, 2012. According to some, the world is going to end on this day. Other believe it will be greatly changed.
At least one fellow begs to differ and he says it is going to end on May 21 around 6 p.m. That's this year - not quite two months away. Are you ready?
Anyway, whenever the world is going to end, apparently a lot of people believe it might be happening soon. Apparently at least a few of what I call Rapture Christians believe they will be lifted up to heaven, bodies intact, and their clothing left behind. That's because this will be the Apocalypse, the coming of Christ.
A lot of other people simply think the world will end. Maybe a big asteroid will hit the planet, or the sun will explode, or something. Maybe the magnetic poles will reverse and the earth will rotate backwards. Or perhaps the moon will blow up.
Others think the aliens will finally put in an appearance.
In the Age of Aquarius, according to the person I was speaking with, there will be peace, love, and harmony. The age is already upon us and people who aren't filled with peace, love, and harmony are dying in droves, I was told. Sort of The Celestine Prophecy type of thing, I think. Except not.
Of course earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, and nuclear radiation are all precursors to the main event.
A great many people are ignoring all of this, of course, because they are too busy trying to eek out a living, feeding and clothing their families, to pay much attention to this hullabaloo. It's not like anyone can do anything about it anyway, if it is going to happen.
What I see as the problem with this sort of prognosticating and prophecy is that generally, it can be perceived however someone wants to perceive it. However, some people get pretty upset about it and they do weird things. As far as I am concerned, that means that something will happen in 2012 because it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. People will expect something to happen, so it will. They will take actions, even unwitting ones, that will bring about the result they expect.
Every event in 2012 will be weighted with these prophecies, which are now in the mainstream in some fashion. My guess is that doomsday plays better than peace and love; hence, we have movies about the world ending, TV shows about history and other prophecies, etc. This means that the self-fulfilling prophecy likely will not be the peace and love one but rather the destructive one. Maybe not end-of-the world destructive, but something unfortunate.
I fear this is going to impact everyone, regardless of what one believes, whether its through additional economic hardships, hardball politics, or plain stupidity. So I must ask again: are you ready?
This was a new one for me. I had heard about the doomsday scenarios for 2012 but not this.
In case you are wondering what I am talking about, apparently next year will be one of great change. The main reason for this is because the Mayan calendar ends on December 21, 2012. According to some, the world is going to end on this day. Other believe it will be greatly changed.
At least one fellow begs to differ and he says it is going to end on May 21 around 6 p.m. That's this year - not quite two months away. Are you ready?
Anyway, whenever the world is going to end, apparently a lot of people believe it might be happening soon. Apparently at least a few of what I call Rapture Christians believe they will be lifted up to heaven, bodies intact, and their clothing left behind. That's because this will be the Apocalypse, the coming of Christ.
A lot of other people simply think the world will end. Maybe a big asteroid will hit the planet, or the sun will explode, or something. Maybe the magnetic poles will reverse and the earth will rotate backwards. Or perhaps the moon will blow up.
Others think the aliens will finally put in an appearance.
In the Age of Aquarius, according to the person I was speaking with, there will be peace, love, and harmony. The age is already upon us and people who aren't filled with peace, love, and harmony are dying in droves, I was told. Sort of The Celestine Prophecy type of thing, I think. Except not.
Of course earthquakes, hurricanes, floods, and nuclear radiation are all precursors to the main event.
A great many people are ignoring all of this, of course, because they are too busy trying to eek out a living, feeding and clothing their families, to pay much attention to this hullabaloo. It's not like anyone can do anything about it anyway, if it is going to happen.
What I see as the problem with this sort of prognosticating and prophecy is that generally, it can be perceived however someone wants to perceive it. However, some people get pretty upset about it and they do weird things. As far as I am concerned, that means that something will happen in 2012 because it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. People will expect something to happen, so it will. They will take actions, even unwitting ones, that will bring about the result they expect.
Every event in 2012 will be weighted with these prophecies, which are now in the mainstream in some fashion. My guess is that doomsday plays better than peace and love; hence, we have movies about the world ending, TV shows about history and other prophecies, etc. This means that the self-fulfilling prophecy likely will not be the peace and love one but rather the destructive one. Maybe not end-of-the world destructive, but something unfortunate.
I fear this is going to impact everyone, regardless of what one believes, whether its through additional economic hardships, hardball politics, or plain stupidity. So I must ask again: are you ready?
Friday, April 01, 2011
I Am Me ... And I Am Okay
A very long time ago, a young girl ran across a poster. It looked exactly like this: Click Here.
It featured a short little epistle by Virginia Satir. Now, the young girl had no idea who Virginia Satir was, but she liked the words on the poster very much.
So she bought the poster and hung it in her room.
She read the words on the poster frequently because they resonated so with her.
I am not sure what made me think of this today; perhaps a copy of a desiderata plastered on the wall of a health care provider this morning.
What happened to that young girl, who stared so hard and long at the poster from so very long ago? Where did she go?
I have no idea. I guess she grew up to be me.
Virginia Satir (1916-1988), the author of the saying above, was a American psychologist, author, and educator. She was keenly interested in self-esteem issues. She was key in the development of family therapy.
She was born in Wisconsin, the daughter of a farmer. She received one of her several degrees from the University of Chicago School of Social Service. She went through two divorces, and adopted two children, both of whom were adults or nearly adults at the time she took them in.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Thursday Thirteen
Today, I thought I'd share with you some Guidelines to Good Writing.
1. Verbs HAS to agree with their subjects.
2. And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
3. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat!)
4. Be more or less specific.
5. Do not be redundant; do not use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
6. Don't use no double negatives.
7. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
8. The passive voice is to be ignored.
9. Never use a big word when a diminuitive one would suffice.
10. Kill all exclamation points!!!!
11. Understatement is always the absolute best way to put forth earth shaking ideas.
12. If you're heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times: resist hyperbole; not one writer in a million can use it correctly.
13. Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 184th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
1. Verbs HAS to agree with their subjects.
2. And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
3. Avoid cliches like the plague. (They're old hat!)
4. Be more or less specific.
5. Do not be redundant; do not use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
6. Don't use no double negatives.
7. One-word sentences? Eliminate.
8. The passive voice is to be ignored.
9. Never use a big word when a diminuitive one would suffice.
10. Kill all exclamation points!!!!
11. Understatement is always the absolute best way to put forth earth shaking ideas.
12. If you're heard it once, you've heard it a thousand times: resist hyperbole; not one writer in a million can use it correctly.
13. Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 184th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Spring Snow
We had a little snow last night and this morning. I don't think it will last long. I took these photos around 8 a.m. today (3/27/2011).
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| The view out my front door. |
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| My rose bush. |
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| My forsythia bush! |
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| Forsythia, again. |
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| The view out my back door. |
Saturday, March 26, 2011
The Mulberry Tree
My post yesterday about the scar on my lip reminded me of several other little stories and scars from my childhood.
I have a nice scar on my left thumb. It's about 1/2" long and is located in the knuckle. I received this scar at my grandmother's house.
I am not sure how old I was - 10, maybe? My grandfather decided to cut down a big mulberry tree in the backyard. The thing was always full of berries which attracted birds, and he had placed a small building in the backyard near the tree. The result was the birds constantly pooed on his building. No one likes bird poo on a building.
I am not sure how I ended up helping him cut down this tree. Perhaps I asked or maybe I was drafted. Perhaps I was competing with my two uncles, who I am sure were helping him, too. (My uncles are four years older and one year younger, respectively.) If I were writing this up as a story, I'd have to add all of this detail, I suppose. And I'd have to make it up as I don't remember.
In any event, I had a saw. I was sawing away at small limbs. I sawed at a wrong angle and ended up sawing my thumb.
It bled, my goodness, it bled. I ran crying inside to my grandmother, who put my hand in the sink to run the thumb under water to see how bad it was. As the blood cleared and I could see the cut, I started feeling woozy.
Everything grew dark. Plop! I passed out and ended up on the floor.
My poor grandmother. I wonder what she thought, having me there bleeding all over her kitchen. I remember awakening to find her looming over me, wiping my face with a cold, wet towel. She helped me into a chair and then made me lean over and put my head down, eyes closed, while she bandaged my thumb.
I did not get stitches for that cut, though perhaps I should have. That is probably why it is such a nice thick scar now.
So how about you, dear reader? How are your scars today?
I have a nice scar on my left thumb. It's about 1/2" long and is located in the knuckle. I received this scar at my grandmother's house.
I am not sure how old I was - 10, maybe? My grandfather decided to cut down a big mulberry tree in the backyard. The thing was always full of berries which attracted birds, and he had placed a small building in the backyard near the tree. The result was the birds constantly pooed on his building. No one likes bird poo on a building.
I am not sure how I ended up helping him cut down this tree. Perhaps I asked or maybe I was drafted. Perhaps I was competing with my two uncles, who I am sure were helping him, too. (My uncles are four years older and one year younger, respectively.) If I were writing this up as a story, I'd have to add all of this detail, I suppose. And I'd have to make it up as I don't remember.
In any event, I had a saw. I was sawing away at small limbs. I sawed at a wrong angle and ended up sawing my thumb.
It bled, my goodness, it bled. I ran crying inside to my grandmother, who put my hand in the sink to run the thumb under water to see how bad it was. As the blood cleared and I could see the cut, I started feeling woozy.
Everything grew dark. Plop! I passed out and ended up on the floor.
My poor grandmother. I wonder what she thought, having me there bleeding all over her kitchen. I remember awakening to find her looming over me, wiping my face with a cold, wet towel. She helped me into a chair and then made me lean over and put my head down, eyes closed, while she bandaged my thumb.
I did not get stitches for that cut, though perhaps I should have. That is probably why it is such a nice thick scar now.
So how about you, dear reader? How are your scars today?
Friday, March 25, 2011
The Gate
We all have those little marks on our bodies that show we've been around. A cut on a finger, a skinned knee. Tell-tale scars that remind us of incidents and accidents that maybe we'd rather forget.
I have a tiny little scar on my upper lip. Most of the time I do not notice it but occasionally it suddenly pops out at me. The scar is in that place where you have that little "u"shape on your lips. It is about 1/4" long, if that.
It happened this way:
When I was 11 or so, I lived on a farm. Part of being a farm kid is riding around on tractors and opening gates.
My father had a trailer that he pulled behind the tractor. Its sides were wooden and covered with flaking paint. My brother and I would ride in the trailer, or we would walk behind or beside it while we picked up rocks and sticks.
One day, my father was heading somewhere with the tractor and trailer. I am thinking maybe we were going to our new homesite but my recollection is not sure. My parents built themselves a nice ranch in 1976, and it was way off the road and on the other end of the farm, so it is the right time frame.
An old lane that lead up that way required the opening of several gates in order to pass through.
I hopped off the trailer and trotted around the tractor and opened the gate. The gate, being made of wood, was heavy and hard to handle when you're a skinny little girl. It also tended to drag in the road. However, I had done this many times.
I pulled it open and stood behind it so my father could drive the tractor through. I would then close the gate behind him and jump back on the trailer. But either I didn't open the gate wide enough or he misjudged, for one minute I was watching the tractor go through the gate and the next I was on my back with blood all over me.
The trailer had hit the gate, and the wooden slates of the gate had splintered.
One of the slates hit me in the face, and a splinter of the wood pierced my lip. It went all the way through.
I know this because I could poke my tongue through it, or could until the doctor put a tiny little stitch in there.
I went to school with a swollen face - two black eyes and a fat lip. I remember telling everyone what had happened.
After that, I never opened a gate for a tractor again.
I have a tiny little scar on my upper lip. Most of the time I do not notice it but occasionally it suddenly pops out at me. The scar is in that place where you have that little "u"shape on your lips. It is about 1/4" long, if that.
It happened this way:
When I was 11 or so, I lived on a farm. Part of being a farm kid is riding around on tractors and opening gates.
My father had a trailer that he pulled behind the tractor. Its sides were wooden and covered with flaking paint. My brother and I would ride in the trailer, or we would walk behind or beside it while we picked up rocks and sticks.
One day, my father was heading somewhere with the tractor and trailer. I am thinking maybe we were going to our new homesite but my recollection is not sure. My parents built themselves a nice ranch in 1976, and it was way off the road and on the other end of the farm, so it is the right time frame.
An old lane that lead up that way required the opening of several gates in order to pass through.
I hopped off the trailer and trotted around the tractor and opened the gate. The gate, being made of wood, was heavy and hard to handle when you're a skinny little girl. It also tended to drag in the road. However, I had done this many times.
I pulled it open and stood behind it so my father could drive the tractor through. I would then close the gate behind him and jump back on the trailer. But either I didn't open the gate wide enough or he misjudged, for one minute I was watching the tractor go through the gate and the next I was on my back with blood all over me.
The trailer had hit the gate, and the wooden slates of the gate had splintered.
One of the slates hit me in the face, and a splinter of the wood pierced my lip. It went all the way through.
I know this because I could poke my tongue through it, or could until the doctor put a tiny little stitch in there.
I went to school with a swollen face - two black eyes and a fat lip. I remember telling everyone what had happened.
After that, I never opened a gate for a tractor again.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Thursday Thirteen
It is spring. So here are quotes about this particular season, stolen from this site and this site:
1. O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind? - Percy Bysshe Shelley
2. Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. - Rainer Maria Rilke
3. The year's at the spring/ And day's at the morn;/ Morning's at seven;/ The hillside's dew-pearled;/ The lark's on the wing;/ The snail's on the thorn;/ God's in His heaven/ - All's right with the world! - Robert Browning
4. It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! - Mark Twain
5. April hath put a spirit of youth in everything. - William Shakespeare
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 183rd time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
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| Forsythia |
1. O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind? - Percy Bysshe Shelley
2. Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. - Rainer Maria Rilke
3. The year's at the spring/ And day's at the morn;/ Morning's at seven;/ The hillside's dew-pearled;/ The lark's on the wing;/ The snail's on the thorn;/ God's in His heaven/ - All's right with the world! - Robert Browning
4. It's spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you've got it, you want - oh, you don't quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so! - Mark Twain
5. April hath put a spirit of youth in everything. - William Shakespeare
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| From Spring 2007 |
6. Now every field is clothed with grass, and every tree with leaves; now the woods put forth their blossoms, and the year assumes its gay attire. - Virgil
7. If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. - Nadine Stair
8. In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt. - Margaret Atwood
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| Daffodils |
9. He that is in a towne in May loseth his spring. - George Herbert
10. Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night. - Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke
10. Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night. - Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke
11. Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day. -Elizabeth Bowen
12. Every spring is the only spring, a perpetual astonishment. - Ellis Peters
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here. I've been playing for a while and this is my 183rd time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Ode to the Stinkbug
O little critter, from I know not where
why are you smelling up my air?
When the sun shines and temps grow warm
you gather on windows as if in a swarm.
You're creepy, you're crawly, you make me cry
And I can't find a pesticide to make you die.
You're in my kitchen, the bedroom, the den,
The only way to kill you is to make you swim.
If I squash you, your odor means wrinkling of noses
You smell worse than my shoes and my toesies!
I wrap you in tissues and drown you and then,
I find I must do it again and again!
Go away, stinkbug! You smell, you're a fright
I fear I will eat you, a mistake in the night!
No kiddin', these things are atrocious. I am hearing stories from everyone about how they are waking up to find them in bed. They are slapping them and then dealing with their horrid smell on hands and other body parts, and otherwise finding these things difficult to deal with. We haven't found any pesticides that will take care of them or keep them away.
The cold weather didn't even kill them. Anytime the temps rose above 67 degrees, there they were. I kept the house at 66 degrees all winter long just to keep them away. Better to freeze than to deal with these bugs.
why are you smelling up my air?
When the sun shines and temps grow warm
you gather on windows as if in a swarm.
You're creepy, you're crawly, you make me cry
And I can't find a pesticide to make you die.
You're in my kitchen, the bedroom, the den,
The only way to kill you is to make you swim.
If I squash you, your odor means wrinkling of noses
You smell worse than my shoes and my toesies!
I wrap you in tissues and drown you and then,
I find I must do it again and again!
Go away, stinkbug! You smell, you're a fright
I fear I will eat you, a mistake in the night!
No kiddin', these things are atrocious. I am hearing stories from everyone about how they are waking up to find them in bed. They are slapping them and then dealing with their horrid smell on hands and other body parts, and otherwise finding these things difficult to deal with. We haven't found any pesticides that will take care of them or keep them away.
The cold weather didn't even kill them. Anytime the temps rose above 67 degrees, there they were. I kept the house at 66 degrees all winter long just to keep them away. Better to freeze than to deal with these bugs.
Just so you know, this is called a brown marmorated stink bug. It was first found in the US in 1998 in Pennsylvania and now it has spread through the Mid-Atlantic states. The bug is causing widespread problems with crops, including fruits. It is thought to be native to China, Japan, Korea, and Taiwan.
As the weather warms up, I am afraid these things are going to take over my life.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Spring at Hollins
My alma mater and current university as I pursue my master's degree is one of the prettiest campuses. I love the blend of nature and older buildings. Even newer structures have class. My favorite times on campus are spring and fall - both are absolutely lovely.
The willow trees along the campus drive near Eastnor.
The Wyndham Robertson Library
The chapel.
The Quad, showing the backside of East and the front of West.
I took this shot from the third floor of Pleasants.
A group of visiting young women took delight in the writings on the chalk kiosk outside of Pleasants.
The creek that runs between the Theater building and the library.
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