Saturday 9: Silent Night (1957)
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.
1) How well do you know "Silent Night?" Without looking up the lyrics, could you sing along with Elvis?
A. I can sing along with Elvis, at least, the first verse. Not sure about the other verses.
2) The Christmas with Elvis album hit the stores in October 1957. Were you already preparing for Christmas back in October?
A. I think I had made a few purchases by then.
3) Clearly Elvis liked a flocked white Christmas tree. Is your tree flocked, aluminum or pine green? Real or artificial? Or do you skip the whole tree thing altogether?
A. My tree is an artificial pencil tree, pine green, with multi-colored twinkling lights (as opposed to blinking).
4) Back in the late 1950s, Elvis left his hair its natural brown color. In the 1960s he began having it dyed black. Do you have a salon appointment scheduled between now and year end?
A. I was supposed to have one Thursday but I was sick. Now it's scheduled for next Friday. We will see if it comes to pass.
5) Have you ever peeked, looking for a Christmas gift you know is hidden for you somewhere in the house?
A. When I was young. I make a big deal out of looking for presents from my husband, but I don't really want to know what I am getting.
6) Which do you prefer, candy canes or gingerbread?
A. Gingerbread.
7) Is anyone receiving a home made or do-it-yourself gift from you this year?
A. I usually give the neighbors homemade goodies, but I have to be well to cook. I won't do it if I am sick and at the moment I am not well enough to breathe on anyone's batter.
8) Do you wrap holiday gifts in paper, or do you take the gift bag route?
A. I do both.
9) This time of year is big for charitable fundraising. Here's your chance to plug a cause or organization that's near and dear to you.
A. To be honest, I think this is an awful time for charities to ask for donations. People are already strapped for money, and lots of localities have taxes due in November or December, and federal tax estimates are due by January 15. I think charities should ask for money in June or July, when people have already paid their taxes and aren't thinking of big purchases for whatever reason. I generally give to my favorite charities in the summer months, not now, except for dropping dollars in the Salvation Army buckets.
But if you need a charity, consider one that fights pancreatic cancer. It is a killer cancer that is seriously underfunded even though it has taken the lives of celebrities such as Steve Jobs and Patrick Swayze. It is one of the few cancers in which the death rate is climbing instead of falling. In fact, it is now the third leading cause of death. This year, over 53,000 people will be diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and over 43,000 will die from it. Seventy-four percent of people diagnosed with pancreatic cancer die within a year of diagnosis. There is no way to diagnose pancreatic cancer in its early stages, and it has generally advanced beyond help when it is found.
My mother and my husband's aunt both died of pancreatic cancer. I am at risk for it because my mother had it. I have already decided if I should ever be diagnosed with it, I will not accept treatment. The treatment was as bad as the cancer itself, and whatever extra time it gave either woman was not time well lived. I'd rather go six months sooner than live another six months in agony and pain.
The Pancreatic Cancer Action Network has a high rating at Charity Navigator. You can also simply give to the American Cancer Society, although it spends a lot of money trying to make money, so the first might be preferable.
_____________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Saturday, December 16, 2017
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Thursday Thirteen #530
I live in a rural area, and we all know from the holiday commercials that farmsteads and such are supposed to be the idyllic places that everyone yearns for down deep in their soul.
And while it is very much a lovely space that I live in, it is not all unicorns and butterflies. So I give to you 13 things about rural living that can be - though may not always be - a nuisance or frustration.
1. People set off fireworks. Big fireworks that go "boom" and scare the beejezus out of the cows.
2. People shoot guns all ... day ... long. I shoot guns myself, sometimes (just a .22), but not all ... day ... long. After a while it wears on your nerves. I don't mind a little while. I do mind hours on end.
3. Big cement trucks run up and down the road, because a big cement plant is about five miles from me. They are very loud and I can hear them even though I am 1/4 mile off the street.
4. Hot air balloons sometimes fly over the farm. They are pretty and I like to look at them, but again, they scare the beejezus out of the cows. Nothing like a stampede when the hot air balloon goes "whoosh" to heat up the air to stay aloft. (Fortunately this has not happened for a long time and I hope I'm not bringing the sky gods down on me for mentioning it.)
5. Thistle. I know this is good for some things that ail you, but thistle in the pasture is not good for the cows. It's not good for my clothes, either.
6. Bad weather means the roads are among the last plowed. My husband and other farmers sometimes plow the roads in front of their farms before the state comes through.
7. Round Up. I hate weed killer but my husband uses it liberally along the fence row, mostly because we have an electric fence and the weeds will short it out. I make him strip all of his clothes outside and water them down with a water hose and leave them, literally, for weeks out in the sun and rain to get the chemicals off of them before I will put them in the wash.
8. Wild animals. I enjoy watching the wildlife and it is exciting to see a bear in the backyard. It is not so exciting to watch deer nibble my rose bushes to nothing, or to grow a garden only to find that the wild animals got to it the night before harvest.
9. Stray animals. I don't know why people think farms are the places to drop dogs and cats, but they are not. We can't take care of them and the barn only has so many mice. They ultimately end up at the local shelter, which is where you, whoever you are, should have taken them in the first place if you couldn't keep them. Better yet, if you can't take care of an animal, don't get one.
10. Dead deer. Unfortunately, we find dead deer in the fields quite often. One year I counted 21. We bury them because (1) the state takes forever to come along and get them; (2) usually they have run out of the state's right-of-way and the state won't take them anyway and (3) you can't leave them in the fields for the buzzards because then the bones, etc., get into the hay and can damage the machinery. We have a special dead deer cemetery area.
11. Poor cell phone service. There are towers near the interstate, but out here, the service is poor. For a long time I could only get service on my cellphone in the garage. It's a little better now, but still not great.
12. Poor Internet service. I have DSL and that is all I will have unless I got to a mobile hot spot or something. It doesn't pay the phone company to run a fiber line down this way because it has so much space to cross for too few people.
13. No Christmas lights. This may not seem like a hardship, but I really like Christmas lights. And out here, where so many people live a long way off the road, we simply don't see that many. We have to take tours of the subdivisions.
_______
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 530th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
And while it is very much a lovely space that I live in, it is not all unicorns and butterflies. So I give to you 13 things about rural living that can be - though may not always be - a nuisance or frustration.
1. People set off fireworks. Big fireworks that go "boom" and scare the beejezus out of the cows.
2. People shoot guns all ... day ... long. I shoot guns myself, sometimes (just a .22), but not all ... day ... long. After a while it wears on your nerves. I don't mind a little while. I do mind hours on end.
3. Big cement trucks run up and down the road, because a big cement plant is about five miles from me. They are very loud and I can hear them even though I am 1/4 mile off the street.
4. Hot air balloons sometimes fly over the farm. They are pretty and I like to look at them, but again, they scare the beejezus out of the cows. Nothing like a stampede when the hot air balloon goes "whoosh" to heat up the air to stay aloft. (Fortunately this has not happened for a long time and I hope I'm not bringing the sky gods down on me for mentioning it.)
5. Thistle. I know this is good for some things that ail you, but thistle in the pasture is not good for the cows. It's not good for my clothes, either.
6. Bad weather means the roads are among the last plowed. My husband and other farmers sometimes plow the roads in front of their farms before the state comes through.
7. Round Up. I hate weed killer but my husband uses it liberally along the fence row, mostly because we have an electric fence and the weeds will short it out. I make him strip all of his clothes outside and water them down with a water hose and leave them, literally, for weeks out in the sun and rain to get the chemicals off of them before I will put them in the wash.
8. Wild animals. I enjoy watching the wildlife and it is exciting to see a bear in the backyard. It is not so exciting to watch deer nibble my rose bushes to nothing, or to grow a garden only to find that the wild animals got to it the night before harvest.
9. Stray animals. I don't know why people think farms are the places to drop dogs and cats, but they are not. We can't take care of them and the barn only has so many mice. They ultimately end up at the local shelter, which is where you, whoever you are, should have taken them in the first place if you couldn't keep them. Better yet, if you can't take care of an animal, don't get one.
10. Dead deer. Unfortunately, we find dead deer in the fields quite often. One year I counted 21. We bury them because (1) the state takes forever to come along and get them; (2) usually they have run out of the state's right-of-way and the state won't take them anyway and (3) you can't leave them in the fields for the buzzards because then the bones, etc., get into the hay and can damage the machinery. We have a special dead deer cemetery area.
11. Poor cell phone service. There are towers near the interstate, but out here, the service is poor. For a long time I could only get service on my cellphone in the garage. It's a little better now, but still not great.
12. Poor Internet service. I have DSL and that is all I will have unless I got to a mobile hot spot or something. It doesn't pay the phone company to run a fiber line down this way because it has so much space to cross for too few people.
13. No Christmas lights. This may not seem like a hardship, but I really like Christmas lights. And out here, where so many people live a long way off the road, we simply don't see that many. We have to take tours of the subdivisions.
_______
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 530th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
A Turkey in the Persimmon Tree
We came home Monday evening to find not a partridge in a pear tree, but turkeys in the persimmon tree.
This was, by far, the largest flock of turkeys I have seen on the farm. We counted over 30, although not that many show up in the photo. I believe they are this year's hatchlings, because I saw several hens with chicks this summer. It looks like they've teamed up for the winter.
I shot this with my little Nikon Coolpix that I keep in the car (still not used to reaching for the smartphone for the camera). It's a small, thin camera that I picked up for $60 at Walmart a few days after Black Friday about five years ago now. It takes great photos to be so small and slender. I slip it into my coat pocket frequently because it does such a nice job.
Still, I need to remember that I have not only Nikon cameras at my beck and call, but also a smartphone with a decent camera in it.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
A Little Frosting
Saturday morning we woke to a light blanket of snow. The kind that makes things look pretty and then goes away (the best kind, really, if you must drive and work in cold weather).
Obligatory snow pictures:
Photos taken with Nikon Coolpix P500.
Obligatory snow pictures:
Photos taken with Nikon Coolpix P500.
Sunday, December 10, 2017
Sunday Stealing: Bah Humbug
Sunday Stealing: Bah Humbug!
Bah Humbug! Before we get all warm and cozy for the upcoming holidays, here's a chance to let out all those angry feelings you've been harboring.
_____________
Country Dew says: Words like "loathe" and "hate" are very strong words that I seldom use. They are reserved for important moments. So I have changed those to "dislike."
_____________
TV show I dislike: Anything on Fox.
Movie I dislike: You Don't Mess with the Zohan, or basically anything with Adam Sandler in it.
Music genres I dislike: I'm not a big fan of rap. Mostly, I don't understand it.
Magazine which annoys me: Any of them that have smelly advertising in them.
Makes me cranky at restaurant: People talking on their cellphones instead of gazing into one another eyes, or at least keeping a check on their kids.
Makes me cranky in public: The public.
Makes me impatient at home: Having a sick husband.
Makes me impatient at work: I don't have a job now.
Celebrity I dislike: I'm not fond of Clint Eastwood or Adam Sandler.
Music artist I dislike: I really don't know. If I am not fond of someone I don't listen to them.
I could not care less about: the lives of celebrities.
Blogger's habit that annoys you: Do you mean like Blogger the program? Or a specific blogger? The answer is "nothing" in either case.
Feature on your blog you dislike: Nothing.
Politician that you dislike: Bob Goodlatte, 6th District Congressman for Virginia, and chairman of the House Judiciary Committee.
__________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
Bah Humbug! Before we get all warm and cozy for the upcoming holidays, here's a chance to let out all those angry feelings you've been harboring.
_____________
Country Dew says: Words like "loathe" and "hate" are very strong words that I seldom use. They are reserved for important moments. So I have changed those to "dislike."
_____________
TV show I dislike: Anything on Fox.
Movie I dislike: You Don't Mess with the Zohan, or basically anything with Adam Sandler in it.
Music genres I dislike: I'm not a big fan of rap. Mostly, I don't understand it.
Magazine which annoys me: Any of them that have smelly advertising in them.
Makes me cranky at restaurant: People talking on their cellphones instead of gazing into one another eyes, or at least keeping a check on their kids.
Makes me cranky in public: The public.
Makes me impatient at home: Having a sick husband.
Makes me impatient at work: I don't have a job now.
Celebrity I dislike: I'm not fond of Clint Eastwood or Adam Sandler.
Music artist I dislike: I really don't know. If I am not fond of someone I don't listen to them.
I could not care less about: the lives of celebrities.
Blogger's habit that annoys you: Do you mean like Blogger the program? Or a specific blogger? The answer is "nothing" in either case.
Feature on your blog you dislike: Nothing.
Politician that you dislike: Bob Goodlatte, 6th District Congressman for Virginia, and chairman of the House Judiciary Committee.
__________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
Saturday, December 09, 2017
Saturday 9: My Church
Saturday 9: My Church (2016)
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.
1) This song is about a woman who loves singing along with her car radio. Is that something you enjoy?
A. Yes, I enjoy doing that.
2) The video begins with Maren Morris finishing her cigarette before getting behind the wheel. Do you allow smoking in your car?
A. I do not allow smoking within visual site of me. So no.
3) In this song, Maren admits she's lied. What's the last fib you told?
A. Well, it's Christmas so there is lots of sneaking going on about purchases and such. Little white lies to be revealed on the big day. I try not to tell big lies because it can get complicated, trying to keep the story straight. The truth doesn't require any such transmogrifications.
4) She mentions having her radio on the FM dial. Are you loyal to a single radio station? Or do you spin the dial?
A. I mostly listen to Q99 or Steve FM (both adult top 40) on our stations, but depending on my mood, I might hit NPR.
5) Maren was inspired to write this song while on a long car trip from Nashville to Los Angeles. When do you get your best ideas? (In the shower, behind the wheel, over lunch with friends ...)
A. I'm not sure I have a particular time. The shower is good, but so is that time just before you're fully awake and the dreams are still catchable. Inspiration comes anytime I am open.
6) She performed this song on Saturday Night Live last year. The host that week was John Cenna. Do you follow professional wrestling?
A. I do not. My grandfather was a big fan and he watched it when we were kids. I remember watching it with him sometimes. That was a very long time ago.
7) In 2016, when this song was popular, Alex Rodriguez played his final Major League Baseball game. He has embarked on a second career as a broadcaster. Would you be comfortable on camera?
A. Not unless the camera can make me look thinner.
8) A 2016 study revealed that 43% of Americans own mutual funds, many in their 401(k)s and IRAs. Are you involved in the stock market?
A. We have our retirement accounts in the stock market.
9) Random question: You have something awkward and embarrassing that you simply must tell a pal. You know your friend will not be happy with the news. Would you prefer to deliver it by email, in a phone call, or face to face?
A. I would do it face to face, if it is that bad.
_____________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.
1) This song is about a woman who loves singing along with her car radio. Is that something you enjoy?
A. Yes, I enjoy doing that.
2) The video begins with Maren Morris finishing her cigarette before getting behind the wheel. Do you allow smoking in your car?
A. I do not allow smoking within visual site of me. So no.
3) In this song, Maren admits she's lied. What's the last fib you told?
A. Well, it's Christmas so there is lots of sneaking going on about purchases and such. Little white lies to be revealed on the big day. I try not to tell big lies because it can get complicated, trying to keep the story straight. The truth doesn't require any such transmogrifications.
4) She mentions having her radio on the FM dial. Are you loyal to a single radio station? Or do you spin the dial?
A. I mostly listen to Q99 or Steve FM (both adult top 40) on our stations, but depending on my mood, I might hit NPR.
5) Maren was inspired to write this song while on a long car trip from Nashville to Los Angeles. When do you get your best ideas? (In the shower, behind the wheel, over lunch with friends ...)
A. I'm not sure I have a particular time. The shower is good, but so is that time just before you're fully awake and the dreams are still catchable. Inspiration comes anytime I am open.
6) She performed this song on Saturday Night Live last year. The host that week was John Cenna. Do you follow professional wrestling?
A. I do not. My grandfather was a big fan and he watched it when we were kids. I remember watching it with him sometimes. That was a very long time ago.
7) In 2016, when this song was popular, Alex Rodriguez played his final Major League Baseball game. He has embarked on a second career as a broadcaster. Would you be comfortable on camera?
A. Not unless the camera can make me look thinner.
8) A 2016 study revealed that 43% of Americans own mutual funds, many in their 401(k)s and IRAs. Are you involved in the stock market?
A. We have our retirement accounts in the stock market.
9) Random question: You have something awkward and embarrassing that you simply must tell a pal. You know your friend will not be happy with the news. Would you prefer to deliver it by email, in a phone call, or face to face?
A. I would do it face to face, if it is that bad.
_____________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Friday, December 08, 2017
Thursday, December 07, 2017
Thursday Thirteen
1. Another day, another diatribe. It's become an insufferable day, every day, in a world that has always existed but which was once kept, if not at bay, at least on hold. Now here we are, swimming in White Nationalism, and watching an old man's dentures fall out while he gives away things that make only crazy people happy. I keep hearing the music from The Twilight Zone. Do do do do, do do do do.
2. The robe I bought for myself on Black Friday fell apart in the washing machine. Well, not exactly apart, but it pilled up and pieces of the fleece or whatever it was came out so much that it looked like it snowed on me when I put the robe on. I sent it to Goodwill.
3. My telephone company and I had words this week over robo calls. We have been receiving a call from the same number for weeks. Only it isn't anything but a ring, then a half ring, and then nothing. Twice a day, at least. And then it started at night. And 6 a.m. When I asked the phone company to do something about it, they offered me call blocking - for $3 a month. I agreed to that, but the call came through the call blocking anyway. So I called the phone company back and complained that their call blocking didn't work. They took it off, refunded my $3, and put in a "trouble ticket." Later in the day I received a phone call back and an apology and assurance the issue was fixed. If they could take care of the problem, why didn't they do that in the first place, instead of charging me $3? And now I am going to learn how to use the answering machine built into my cordless phones, and do away with their voicemail. So there.
4. The bank wants to charge me now for a safety deposit box I've had for free for 30 years. Today I close that box. Nothing in it but papers anyway.
5. My physical therapy will soon come to an end - for this year, anyway - and it can't come soon enough. Whew.
6. However, I don't know how our insurance will work in the new year. For the first time in my life, I will not be a Blue Cross/Blue Shield baby. I have been on BC/BS since I was pre-natal, I think, but my husband's company is switching to Aetna. And Aetna just sold itself to CVS, pending regulatory authority approval or whatever.
7. I don't do change well sometimes. Change is inevitable and the only thing that stays the same, but really, this is quite a lot at the end of the year.
8. Sometimes I want to respond to people on FB soooo badly, but I don't want to get into arguments, so I just leave it. I let them spew their garbage and move on. Sometimes if it is horrific garbage, I block the person or the post or whatever. I have been troubled and amazed at some of the stuff people feel free to say on Facebook. I wonder if someday, somewhere, it will come back to haunt them.
9. Last night my husband woke up and reached for a water bottle for a drink. I shouted out to him, "Drop the knife! You're not a sacrifice!" He said, "I'm just getting water." I yelled back, "Put the knife down! Put the knife down."
10. I did not make a Christmas wish list this year. My husband always asks for a list of things I might like, but this year I have left him dangling as to things he can purchase. I really mostly just want to feel better and be happier. I don't think things are going to help with that.
11. Of course, there is always chocolate.
12. My brother called me yesterday to check on me because "he had a feeling." I do that with him, too. Being a little fey runs in the family. Sometimes you're not sure what's up, but you know something is.
13. I still haven't seen the Justice League movie. At this rate, I don't guess I will see it in the theater. I'll have to wait until it hits HBO. I hope I can get into the theater to see the Last Jedi movie, though.
_______
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 529th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
2. The robe I bought for myself on Black Friday fell apart in the washing machine. Well, not exactly apart, but it pilled up and pieces of the fleece or whatever it was came out so much that it looked like it snowed on me when I put the robe on. I sent it to Goodwill.
3. My telephone company and I had words this week over robo calls. We have been receiving a call from the same number for weeks. Only it isn't anything but a ring, then a half ring, and then nothing. Twice a day, at least. And then it started at night. And 6 a.m. When I asked the phone company to do something about it, they offered me call blocking - for $3 a month. I agreed to that, but the call came through the call blocking anyway. So I called the phone company back and complained that their call blocking didn't work. They took it off, refunded my $3, and put in a "trouble ticket." Later in the day I received a phone call back and an apology and assurance the issue was fixed. If they could take care of the problem, why didn't they do that in the first place, instead of charging me $3? And now I am going to learn how to use the answering machine built into my cordless phones, and do away with their voicemail. So there.
4. The bank wants to charge me now for a safety deposit box I've had for free for 30 years. Today I close that box. Nothing in it but papers anyway.
5. My physical therapy will soon come to an end - for this year, anyway - and it can't come soon enough. Whew.
6. However, I don't know how our insurance will work in the new year. For the first time in my life, I will not be a Blue Cross/Blue Shield baby. I have been on BC/BS since I was pre-natal, I think, but my husband's company is switching to Aetna. And Aetna just sold itself to CVS, pending regulatory authority approval or whatever.
7. I don't do change well sometimes. Change is inevitable and the only thing that stays the same, but really, this is quite a lot at the end of the year.
8. Sometimes I want to respond to people on FB soooo badly, but I don't want to get into arguments, so I just leave it. I let them spew their garbage and move on. Sometimes if it is horrific garbage, I block the person or the post or whatever. I have been troubled and amazed at some of the stuff people feel free to say on Facebook. I wonder if someday, somewhere, it will come back to haunt them.
9. Last night my husband woke up and reached for a water bottle for a drink. I shouted out to him, "Drop the knife! You're not a sacrifice!" He said, "I'm just getting water." I yelled back, "Put the knife down! Put the knife down."
10. I did not make a Christmas wish list this year. My husband always asks for a list of things I might like, but this year I have left him dangling as to things he can purchase. I really mostly just want to feel better and be happier. I don't think things are going to help with that.
11. Of course, there is always chocolate.
12. My brother called me yesterday to check on me because "he had a feeling." I do that with him, too. Being a little fey runs in the family. Sometimes you're not sure what's up, but you know something is.
13. I still haven't seen the Justice League movie. At this rate, I don't guess I will see it in the theater. I'll have to wait until it hits HBO. I hope I can get into the theater to see the Last Jedi movie, though.
_______
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 529th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Wednesday, December 06, 2017
#MeToo
Today, Time magazine announced its "Person of the Year." Or more to the point, it named a group of women who stepped forward to denounce predominate abuse of females by males as its top choice for great applause.
I haven't read the article. I don't know who these women are. I am not even sure who they stepped forward against. Maybe they spoke out against our current sexual predator-in-chief. Maybe they spoke out against some senator or congressman or local council person. It doesn't really matter.
What matters is, they spoke out. And they created a movement, one that we all saw move around the world with the Women's March back in the early part of the year, and one which continued when women in Virginia took more seats in the House of Delegates, and more women ran for office, than ever before.
It's a movement that has long been in the works. It goes back before Anita Hill spoke out against Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. It goes back into the annals of time to voices long forgotten and drowned out by the muscle and upper body strength of the patriarchy, whose belief in the power of the penis has overcome, with brute strength and great hypocrisy, the delicate sureness of the power of the womb and the heart.
It is past time to take that power back, ladies.
I was five when a man first showed me his penis and asked me to touch it.
My Jane West dolls became targets for my slightly older uncles, who drew bulls-eyes around the breasts of her blue shirt, and colored on the insides of her thighs.
At 9, as my breasts began to bud out, a boy four years my senior dared me to take off my shirt and let him touch me.
In school, boys snapped my bra, backed me against doors, slid their hands down my pants. My cries of "leave me alone," were laughed off and ignored.
When I was around 12, my father took me to a doctor who slapped me across the face, telling me not to talk back to my dad. I don't remember what I said to cause this, but I do remember my father's reaction. He did not defend me. He just said, "You deserved that." A good parent would have hauled me away from that doctor and out the door, but my father laughed it off. And the doctor was an asshole and I refused to see him again. When I learned years later that he had had a bad motorcycle accident, I confess, I was glad.
When I was 14, one of my father's friends, visiting from out of state, was constantly cornering me and trying to stick his hands down my pants. I tried to stay away from him. Finally, his wife confronted me and accused me of "luring her husband" away from her by wearing shorts. Like I knew anything about luring anybody at that age. Her husband was just a lecherous old bastard and I was glad when they stopped visiting.
At 15, a biology teacher told every one of his classes that breasts were just "mounds of modified tissue." For weeks, girls all around the school endured boys running around tweaking their titties, and when the girl said something the boy "innocently" said, "Hey, they're just mounds of modified tissue, what's the big deal?" I think the teacher was trying to ward off the very thing that came about, but I hope he never told another class that.
At 16, another of my father's friends cornered me against the fence in the parking lot where I was working that summer as a receptionist at my father's place of business. He stuck his tongue down my throat and rammed himself against me so hard I thought he broke my back as he shoved me into a post.
At 18, working at a job I hated, where I was placed in the back part of the building in the "parts department," the men would come in and leer at me. One of them constantly walked up behind me and cupped my breasts, no matter how many times I slapped his hands away. He thought it hilarious. It made me angry, defensive, and scared. I finally told him I had a steady boyfriend who would come and beat the hell out of him if I told him what he was doing. When he didn't believe me, I had my boyfriend come and pick me up at work one day. Nobody bothered me after that. (Thank you, my darling husband, for being a big guy who looks like he could knock the teeth out of anybody he wanted.)
Another of my father's friends called me at a different job one day, after seeing my boyfriend and I making out in the car. He said if I would sleep with him he wouldn't tell my parents I was necking with my boyfriend on the backroads. I told him to go to hell. (And my father recently asked me why I didn't like his friends. Go figure.)
Married now, suffering from mental exhaustion from overwork and trying to go to college, all while having multiple surgeries and fighting depression and tears because I wanted and couldn't have children, a man in a repair store grabbed my arm when I took my computer in to be fixed and forced me behind the counter, where he slid his hand down my pants. I called my friend who worked for the local sheriff and reported him; after a visit from deputies, the man closed up shop and ran away to another state. I hope I saved some other woman that humiliation.
I also took a self defense class.
In the late 1990s, a deputy backed me against a corner in a courthouse, putting his hand on my waist and daring me to say or do something as he moved in closer. I felt for his hand, grabbed his thumb, and pushed it back as hard as I could, making the asshole fall to his knees. I then gave him a kick where it counts, and ran.
This doesn't count the multitude of male doctors who have belittled me, talked over me, not listened to, or otherwise discounted my health issues simply because I was just a hysterical female. Jerks, every damn one of them. It doesn't count the members of the opposite sex who think they have the right to try to give me a hug, or to otherwise pull me up against them, simply because I am female. (Here's a clue: if you'd just give a guy a handshake, then you do the same with a woman.)
These are just a few of the humiliations I have suffered at the hands of so-called men. I am just one woman with a multitude of experiences, and these kinds of atrocities can be multiplied millions of times over, probably at least 10 experiences for every woman, some traumatic, some tolerable, none acceptable. These perpetrators are not men, they are monsters. And monsters do not deserve to be on the cover of Time magazine, and their exploits should be called out for what they are - crimes against another person.
#metoo
I haven't read the article. I don't know who these women are. I am not even sure who they stepped forward against. Maybe they spoke out against our current sexual predator-in-chief. Maybe they spoke out against some senator or congressman or local council person. It doesn't really matter.
What matters is, they spoke out. And they created a movement, one that we all saw move around the world with the Women's March back in the early part of the year, and one which continued when women in Virginia took more seats in the House of Delegates, and more women ran for office, than ever before.
It's a movement that has long been in the works. It goes back before Anita Hill spoke out against Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. It goes back into the annals of time to voices long forgotten and drowned out by the muscle and upper body strength of the patriarchy, whose belief in the power of the penis has overcome, with brute strength and great hypocrisy, the delicate sureness of the power of the womb and the heart.
It is past time to take that power back, ladies.
I was five when a man first showed me his penis and asked me to touch it.
My Jane West dolls became targets for my slightly older uncles, who drew bulls-eyes around the breasts of her blue shirt, and colored on the insides of her thighs.
At 9, as my breasts began to bud out, a boy four years my senior dared me to take off my shirt and let him touch me.
In school, boys snapped my bra, backed me against doors, slid their hands down my pants. My cries of "leave me alone," were laughed off and ignored.
When I was around 12, my father took me to a doctor who slapped me across the face, telling me not to talk back to my dad. I don't remember what I said to cause this, but I do remember my father's reaction. He did not defend me. He just said, "You deserved that." A good parent would have hauled me away from that doctor and out the door, but my father laughed it off. And the doctor was an asshole and I refused to see him again. When I learned years later that he had had a bad motorcycle accident, I confess, I was glad.
When I was 14, one of my father's friends, visiting from out of state, was constantly cornering me and trying to stick his hands down my pants. I tried to stay away from him. Finally, his wife confronted me and accused me of "luring her husband" away from her by wearing shorts. Like I knew anything about luring anybody at that age. Her husband was just a lecherous old bastard and I was glad when they stopped visiting.
At 15, a biology teacher told every one of his classes that breasts were just "mounds of modified tissue." For weeks, girls all around the school endured boys running around tweaking their titties, and when the girl said something the boy "innocently" said, "Hey, they're just mounds of modified tissue, what's the big deal?" I think the teacher was trying to ward off the very thing that came about, but I hope he never told another class that.
At 16, another of my father's friends cornered me against the fence in the parking lot where I was working that summer as a receptionist at my father's place of business. He stuck his tongue down my throat and rammed himself against me so hard I thought he broke my back as he shoved me into a post.
At 18, working at a job I hated, where I was placed in the back part of the building in the "parts department," the men would come in and leer at me. One of them constantly walked up behind me and cupped my breasts, no matter how many times I slapped his hands away. He thought it hilarious. It made me angry, defensive, and scared. I finally told him I had a steady boyfriend who would come and beat the hell out of him if I told him what he was doing. When he didn't believe me, I had my boyfriend come and pick me up at work one day. Nobody bothered me after that. (Thank you, my darling husband, for being a big guy who looks like he could knock the teeth out of anybody he wanted.)
Another of my father's friends called me at a different job one day, after seeing my boyfriend and I making out in the car. He said if I would sleep with him he wouldn't tell my parents I was necking with my boyfriend on the backroads. I told him to go to hell. (And my father recently asked me why I didn't like his friends. Go figure.)
Married now, suffering from mental exhaustion from overwork and trying to go to college, all while having multiple surgeries and fighting depression and tears because I wanted and couldn't have children, a man in a repair store grabbed my arm when I took my computer in to be fixed and forced me behind the counter, where he slid his hand down my pants. I called my friend who worked for the local sheriff and reported him; after a visit from deputies, the man closed up shop and ran away to another state. I hope I saved some other woman that humiliation.
I also took a self defense class.
In the late 1990s, a deputy backed me against a corner in a courthouse, putting his hand on my waist and daring me to say or do something as he moved in closer. I felt for his hand, grabbed his thumb, and pushed it back as hard as I could, making the asshole fall to his knees. I then gave him a kick where it counts, and ran.
This doesn't count the multitude of male doctors who have belittled me, talked over me, not listened to, or otherwise discounted my health issues simply because I was just a hysterical female. Jerks, every damn one of them. It doesn't count the members of the opposite sex who think they have the right to try to give me a hug, or to otherwise pull me up against them, simply because I am female. (Here's a clue: if you'd just give a guy a handshake, then you do the same with a woman.)
These are just a few of the humiliations I have suffered at the hands of so-called men. I am just one woman with a multitude of experiences, and these kinds of atrocities can be multiplied millions of times over, probably at least 10 experiences for every woman, some traumatic, some tolerable, none acceptable. These perpetrators are not men, they are monsters. And monsters do not deserve to be on the cover of Time magazine, and their exploits should be called out for what they are - crimes against another person.
#metoo
Tuesday, December 05, 2017
Book: The Mad Gasser
The Mad Gasser of Botetourt County
Reconsidering the Facts
By William B. Van Huss
Copyright 2017
88 pages
The author of this book contacted me for assistance in setting up a book signing about his modest effort to bring recognition to an interesting piece of local legend. He sent me the .pdf copy so I have read this piece at no cost to myself.
"The Mad Gasser of Botetourt County" is an incident that occurred here in 1933. Multiple households in Botetourt reported an invasion of a noxious gas that sickened people in the house. It began not far from where I currently live and moved around the community, and included a house across the road from the farm where my grandfather and his family grew up. You can read more about it here on my Botetourt History blog if you want a brief synopsis.
The incident is often linked in with a similar occurrence that took place in Illinois about 10 years later. Most frequently, the incidents are considered to be an example of mass hysteria.
Van Huss has pulled out information about the Botetourt County incident, using newspapers as his primary source, in an effort to separate the two incidents. He argues at the end that the two incidents, while bearing some similarities, are not, in fact, related.
He has an intriguing cover, designed by his wife, for his book. Unfortunately, he needed a better proofreader as after about page 50 or so I began to notice typographical errors and missing words. This is common in self-published efforts, and since I edit manuscripts as part of my freelance work I am quick to pick up on such mistakes. Because the work is short - I read it in under an hour - it did not take away from the narrative but I do wish self-published writers would take the time and if necessary spend the money to have their work proofed before they hit "send."
The story he presents is much the way I have heard it and seen it in other publications. His information was more detailed than some I have seen, and if one wants a decent round-up of information available about the incident, then this book offers that.
What was missing for me, as a life-long county resident, journalist, and amateur historian, was a real effort to find other sources. There are no interviews of relatives of those involved in the incidents, (many of them still live here, including, I think, descendants of the officer and doctor involved), no apparent search for journals or diaries that may still exist and offer up a first-person narrative of the incident, and apparently no effort to visit the communities in question and drive around and see the distance involved between the attacks.
The roads have changed some since 1933, of course, but the distance between Haymakertown and Cloverdale is still the same, and it is more than "a few miles" and this would, at the least, indicate a perpetrator had to have a vehicle and couldn't have easily done this on foot or horseback. Pictures of the areas and homes involved would have been a nice touch and addition to the book. Many of the dwellings in question still stand.
Additionally, the newspapers used are The Roanoke Times and a few other sources, and not The Fincastle Herald. I know that editions of The Fincastle Herald from 1933 are missing in the microfilm archives, but I think, if one made an effort, that copies of those papers could be found and would prove interesting reading.
All in all, this will be a nice little keepsake book for those who want an outline of the story of Botetourt's mad gasser. It does not offer up new information, though, or reach conclusions that local residents haven't already reached.
The book is available on Amazon.
Reconsidering the Facts
By William B. Van Huss
Copyright 2017
88 pages
The author of this book contacted me for assistance in setting up a book signing about his modest effort to bring recognition to an interesting piece of local legend. He sent me the .pdf copy so I have read this piece at no cost to myself.
"The Mad Gasser of Botetourt County" is an incident that occurred here in 1933. Multiple households in Botetourt reported an invasion of a noxious gas that sickened people in the house. It began not far from where I currently live and moved around the community, and included a house across the road from the farm where my grandfather and his family grew up. You can read more about it here on my Botetourt History blog if you want a brief synopsis.
The incident is often linked in with a similar occurrence that took place in Illinois about 10 years later. Most frequently, the incidents are considered to be an example of mass hysteria.
Van Huss has pulled out information about the Botetourt County incident, using newspapers as his primary source, in an effort to separate the two incidents. He argues at the end that the two incidents, while bearing some similarities, are not, in fact, related.
He has an intriguing cover, designed by his wife, for his book. Unfortunately, he needed a better proofreader as after about page 50 or so I began to notice typographical errors and missing words. This is common in self-published efforts, and since I edit manuscripts as part of my freelance work I am quick to pick up on such mistakes. Because the work is short - I read it in under an hour - it did not take away from the narrative but I do wish self-published writers would take the time and if necessary spend the money to have their work proofed before they hit "send."
The story he presents is much the way I have heard it and seen it in other publications. His information was more detailed than some I have seen, and if one wants a decent round-up of information available about the incident, then this book offers that.
What was missing for me, as a life-long county resident, journalist, and amateur historian, was a real effort to find other sources. There are no interviews of relatives of those involved in the incidents, (many of them still live here, including, I think, descendants of the officer and doctor involved), no apparent search for journals or diaries that may still exist and offer up a first-person narrative of the incident, and apparently no effort to visit the communities in question and drive around and see the distance involved between the attacks.
The roads have changed some since 1933, of course, but the distance between Haymakertown and Cloverdale is still the same, and it is more than "a few miles" and this would, at the least, indicate a perpetrator had to have a vehicle and couldn't have easily done this on foot or horseback. Pictures of the areas and homes involved would have been a nice touch and addition to the book. Many of the dwellings in question still stand.
Additionally, the newspapers used are The Roanoke Times and a few other sources, and not The Fincastle Herald. I know that editions of The Fincastle Herald from 1933 are missing in the microfilm archives, but I think, if one made an effort, that copies of those papers could be found and would prove interesting reading.
All in all, this will be a nice little keepsake book for those who want an outline of the story of Botetourt's mad gasser. It does not offer up new information, though, or reach conclusions that local residents haven't already reached.
The book is available on Amazon.
Monday, December 04, 2017
The WallPaper Conundrum.
Sometimes ideas don't pan out.
Here's one.
About 10 - 15 years? - a very long time ago - I thought I would like to brighten the living room. We have dark bookcases by the fireplace. As I age, I seem to want things lighter.
So those many, many years ago, I purchased a roll of wallpaper. My thought was I could tack it (not actually plaster it) against the back of the bookshelves and lighten things up a bit.
I also liked the wallpaper. It was whimsical enough to suit me but yet not distressingly so.
However, this was a two-person project and I could never find any help, so the wallpaper sat in the corner of my office.
For a good decade. Maybe longer than that.
When we cleaned my office, there was the wallpaper in the corner. I took it into the living room and slid it up a couple of shelves to demonstrate to my husband what I wanted to do with it.
He did not like it.
I took pictures of the wallpaper (see above) and gingerly sat it beside the trash can, as I could not bring myself to throw it away.
I made him do that.
Good idea? Yes? No?
I guess it doesn't matter anymore.
Here's one.
About 10 - 15 years? - a very long time ago - I thought I would like to brighten the living room. We have dark bookcases by the fireplace. As I age, I seem to want things lighter.
 |
| Dark bookcase. |
So those many, many years ago, I purchased a roll of wallpaper. My thought was I could tack it (not actually plaster it) against the back of the bookshelves and lighten things up a bit.
 |
| This was the wallpaper. |
I also liked the wallpaper. It was whimsical enough to suit me but yet not distressingly so.
 |
| It had this little moon. |
 |
| And this little star |
 |
| And this really cool sun. |
 |
| And this really cool thing, too. |
However, this was a two-person project and I could never find any help, so the wallpaper sat in the corner of my office.
For a good decade. Maybe longer than that.
When we cleaned my office, there was the wallpaper in the corner. I took it into the living room and slid it up a couple of shelves to demonstrate to my husband what I wanted to do with it.
 |
| The shelving with the wallpaper behind it. |
 |
| I left it a few days in hopes that it would grow on my husband. |
I took pictures of the wallpaper (see above) and gingerly sat it beside the trash can, as I could not bring myself to throw it away.
I made him do that.
Good idea? Yes? No?
I guess it doesn't matter anymore.
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