A Mother's Love

I always felt love from my mother.  She was my security.  I have a clear memory of her in a yellow one-piece dress, with starched pleats.  I remember her ironing in it.  I remember her wearing it to bring cupcakes to my birthday in Nursery School at King Street Baptist Church in Cocoa.

A lot went on that I had no idea about.  I was kept safe from things that happened.  Until I was in my 20s, I never knew about her post-partum depression when my sister was born. 

Someone was always around when she went to stay at a hospital when I was small.  Her mother's death got the better of her, but I never knew what happened.  My father's mother came to live with us then, when we stayed at the Holiday Inn in Hollywood.  My father had transferred offices of The Miami Herald. 

She came back when we moved into the house at 7240 Tropicana Street in Miramar.  For a while, a "colored woman" named Ruby kept house.  Ruby was ancient and chewed tobacco.  She had worked for my grandfather.  She took the bus from Tampa to be with us.  I think grandaddy must have paid her to take care of us.  She shared my room but I do not remember much more.

Over the years, my mother went back to volunteer nursing and taking refresher courses.

In 1972, on our way to get my sister from Pembroke Pines Middle School, we were hit by a gravel truck and both nearly died. 

My life is a blur, pretty much.  I only remember a few things and the thing I most remember is that my parents loved me.  I was safe with them.  They were refuge from all that frightened me in the world.  They had all the answers.

Life continued.  I went to high school, but in the middle of my freshman year, my father had the chance to return here, to the place that we call home.

I finished high school, grateful to be away from the cruelty of my peers among new kids who weren't quite sure what to make of the likes of me... scarred, unfashionable, naive, but the granddaughter of someone prestigious.

I started college and in my first year, my mother, who had suffered small strokes for years, had another one only days after my parents' anniversary on April 1st.  They called themselves "April Fools."

This was a major stroke.  I wasn't allowed to come home until school ended.  I got off the plane and was taken to Holy Cross Hospital in Ft. Lauderdale to see her.  My father went every night.

She came home and I spent the summer helping her with the assistance of aides who came and went. We took her to therapy.  Dad's friends built a ramp and a porch onto the house.

I went back to school... uninterested in study but not allowed to leave. 

My depression did not begin there but I was discovering much about myself and feeling the most acute pain in my heart that I have ever known.

I finished four years of college and came home to stay for eight more. 

My mother lost the use of her right arm and right leg.  Aphasiac, she managed to communicate as best she could though it was often hard to decipher what she wanted.  She somehow managed to smile and to convey love and laughter through it all.  Smiling at me was her last conscious act.

I have never had children and I do not know how a mother feels but I can feel the ferocity of a mother's love around me.  My friends, relatives and lovers seem to be in love with their children and their grandchildren as well.

I know that I am always second or third or even farther on down the line in the scheme of things when I date a mommy.

I know single women who sleep with their sons.  Sons approaching their teens.  Sons approaching their 20s.  Sometimes it is for lack of enough beds.  Sometimes its just... something I have a hard time understanding.

I miss my mother's love. No one will ever love me more.  That is how I know something about what someone who had to choose her life over being with her children feels.

I hope someday to share some intense fraction of the love I've known, and to have something of it returned in kind.

Inspired by: http://journals.aol.com/judithheartsong/newbeginning/entries/1580

5743

Me? I won? WOW!

http://journals.aol.com/judithheartsong/newbeginning/entries/1577

I am so happy to have won a Heartsong Award.  I had no idea that I would actually win.  There were so many great entries.  I particularly loved "human male." Sorry, I can't look up the author right now (I'm at work, being naughty!)

Thank you for all the congratulations. :oD   This hardly seems real.  I get to go out for lunch in 35 minutes.  At that time, I will be able to whoop and holler like a Florida Cracker.  Yippee!  Yahooo!  Woooooooo! (and then there's the "Rebel Yell" that cannot really be pronounced but it's sort of like iiiiiaaaiiiiiyyyieeeeiieiieiieiiyoooaaaaiiyooooiiiyyyiiieeeeiiiyaaaaaaa....)

Ecstatic ;oD

 

earl-i in the mornin'

3:40 a.m.

The mind starts running over things early and waking its bearer up.  This morning it happened about 3 a.m., a little earlier than usual.

I don't understand how it is that the mind suddenly starts churning when you are trying to sleep. 

Maybe a dream makes the mind wake and start thinking, which in turn wakes everything else up.

Unfortunately, the emotions are awoken as well.

This morning I'm thinking about people who hurt me and people I may have to hurt.  I'm thinking about the fear of loneliness (my own.)

I'm thinking about other people who are hurting each other.

I have been thinking a lot about prejudice and how it is actually a mask of the fear of death.

I wake and in turn wake up my computer and I see the alert of a post, http://journals.aol.com/ecori/AnimalSpirits/entries/1463  by one of the most peaceful people I have never met.

I cannot answer her question.  I can speculate that they feel threatened and want to eliminate that threat.

"Make levees, not war" is a brilliant statement at this  time in history.  I wish that it was a thought that would suddenly change the world.  Unfortunately, we have a president with a whole lot of power and very little brain.  He is a member of a powerful family of oil barons and war mongers.

His agenda of trying to make up for his father's mistakes is being accomplished.  Behind his close set eyes and empty-head is the character of a simpleton.

He is throwing himself into the disaster zone to make it look like he cares about his fellow Americans.  He doesn't though.  He has NEVER had to.

As much as they try to sell you a guy who grew up all-American, they used to bathe that little fella in oil and swaddle him in money.  He did what was expected as much as he was able.

What kind of an ego do you have when you have a film made of you that shows you driving around in your car?  Did you ever see this?  There's a film of G.W. from way back in his early days of trying to suck power and he's in a car, driving around.  It's suppose to make him look smart and powerful?  He's in short sleeves, looking around as he drives.  For all you know, he could be driving around a cow pasture or oil field. I don't remember seeing anything but shots of him, not the scenery... maybe there was a passing glimpse of a modest home somewhere.  Trying to make him look like a regular guy, a man of the people.

He isn't.  Rest assured. 

Why do people fear peace?  They want peace... but they are so fearful that anything that threatens the country will mean the end of their idyllic lives and all that they have... big trucks, ostentatious homes, skinny wives full of Botox, humongous egos, pleasure boats, plenty of food and the right to vote.

Anybody and anything different is a threat to the idea that they are important in the over-all scheme of life and that they thought that they will live a long, long time.

That's why people are rude to the point of endangering strangers in traffic, in public.

The problem is that we are picking on people who know nothing but war now.  We are only helping to make orphans and crippled children.  There's no humanitarian mission in the thought of war. 

Fortunately it happens anyway.  The young people who are dying in the cradle of civilization are not unmoved by the people they see. 

Our armed forces do actually stop shooting sometimes and feed people or help make shelter.  They do bandage the injured and try to find laughter in the middle of hell.

They are also guilty of atrocities.  It happens in war and in peace as well.  It's nice to think there is no rape and torture going on, no random murder...  but it happens.  It happens.

I didn't even set off to talk about this.  I had my own aching heart in mind.  But what is that?  This isn't the time for vanity.  This is the time for action.

My parents are going to Mississippi next month.  They cancelled their vacation to take supplies to Katrina victims and to help out however they can.

I'm not really sure what good writers and historians can do....  My step-mother, an aging hippie, just had to do SOMETHING.  And my father, at 75, is going along with it. 

There are some people who believe that many of the people who fled Katrina are "better off now" than  the were before.  These are people who believe that poverty is a condition brought about by low morals.

Of course the people who think this are people born into money and people who have forgotten where they came from.

The Peace March in Washington was a wonderful thing.  There has to be more, though.  More organization, more of a singular voice without pushing other agendas in the process. We need to be unified on the singular point of ending the war and helping the people of Iraq move forward and not back. (The new Iraqi constitution may set things back, stripping women of the rights they do have altogether, for one thing.)

That's what will make our complaints be heard. 

There is more work to do.  If only we could respect each other in the process.

 

Noodles, poodles and clean hands

My new boss is a cheerful woman.  Even when she is upset.  When something goes wrong, she exclaims "Poodles!"

She'll say, "While your noodling around maybe you can figure out how to assemble this."

I'm the one who takes care of things like removing lizards and snakes that get in the building, replacing the flag when it gets warn out, lubricating the bookdrop lock system, spraying the black widow spiders that like to live in the bookdrop. 

I get carried away sometimes. The other day when the power went out I ran home to get flashlights.  I have at least six flashlights.  I am only one person but I guess I don't like wandering in the pitch dark.

 

In other news, I see there's a study out about women having cleaner hands than men. (That is, that we are a little more likely than men to wash our hands.)  File that under DUH!

How many millions were spent on that?  Who are the crafty thieves who do studies like that?  Don't they know they are unnecessary?  Is this a big revelation to somebody?  Does it change the way we live?

<<shakes head>>

<<rolls eyes>>

<<sighs>>

Do you ever get tired of absurd stuff like this?  I sure do.

Hand me the money, people, and I will remind you that we already knew this.

My question: Does the kingpin who gets these studies going wash his money before he rolls in it?

Geez.

If

"If I had 'this,' I would do 'this.'"

Why limit yourself?

I used to tell V, "You gotta die, you might as well ****."  It was an idea she embraced.  I really miss that about her.  She's full of life.

Life is short and no one gets out alive.  If you want to take a class or go sky-diving or get back into something you use to enjoy, stop dawdling and stop making excuses.

If you have a gift you aren't sharing, share it.

I know that our situations can limit us.  I am low on cash, energy and free time myself. 

Sometimes you have to be creative.

If you have the time to sit and read this, you have the time to be doing something.

Step away from the computer... go on with your bad self!  You can do it!  Go on now.  Git!

Come back with a smile on yer face. 

I have spoken.

Even if it's not National Friends and Family Week

This was forwarded to me in my e-mail.  Jean

Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming or are too rigid to depart from their routine.

I got to thinking one day about all those women on the Titanic who passed up dessert at dinner that fateful night in an effort to cut back. >From then on, I've tried to be a little more flexible.

How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed? Does the word "refrigeration" mean nothing to you?

How often have your kids dropped in to talk and sat in silence while you watched 'Jeopardy' on television?

I cannot count the times I called my sister and said, "How about going to lunch in a half hour?" She would gas up and stammer, "I can't. I have clothes on the line. My hair is dirty. I wish I had known yesterday, I had a late breakfast, It looks like rain." And my personal favorite: "It's Monday." She died a few years ago. We never did have lunch together.

Because Americans cram so much into their lives, we tend to schedule our headaches.. We live on a sparse diet of promises we make to ourselves when all the conditions are perfect!

We'll go back and visit the grandparents when we get Steve toilet-trained. We'll entertain when we replace the living-room carpet. We'll go on a second honeymoon when we get two more kids out of college.

Life has a way of accelerating as we get older. The days get shorter, and the list of promises to ourselves gets longer. One morning, we awaken, and all we have to show for our lives is a litany of "I'm going to," "I plan on," and "Someday, when things are settled down a bit."

When anyone calls my 'seize the moment' friend, she is open to adventure and available for trips. She keeps an open mind on new ideas. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You talk with her for five minutes, and you're ready to trade your bad feet for a pair of Rollerblades and skip an elevator for a bungee cord.

My lips have not touched ice cream in 10 years. I love ice cream. It's just that I might as well apply it directly to my stomach with a spatula and eliminate the digestive process. The other day, I stopped the car and bought a triple-decker. If my car had hit an iceberg on the way home, I would have died happy.

Now... go on and have a nice day. Do something you WANT to do, not something on your SHOULD DO list. If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting?

Make sure you read this to the end; you will understand why I sent this to you.

Have you ever watched kids playing on a merry go round or listened to the rain lapping on the ground? Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight or gazed at the sun into the fading night? Do you run through each day on the fly? When you ask "How are you?" Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done, do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores running through your head? Ever told your child, "We'll do it tomorrow." And in your haste, not see his sorrow? Ever lost touch? Let a good friendship die? Just call to say "Hi"?

When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift....Thrown away.... Life is not a race. Take it slower. Hear the music before the song is over.


It's National Friendship and FAMILY WEEK Show your friends how much you care. Send this to everyone you consider a FRIEND. If it comes back to you, then you'll know you have a circle of friends

Put family, friends, and yourself first for a change...our life can change with a single heart beat.

furthermore

This relates to the Film Recommendation posted yesterday.  It seems to exemplify a portion of the theme.

The film explored, among other things, our intimidation by anything that's different from our way of thinking and therefore threatening to our existence.

It made all the sense in the world to me.

It explains hatred. 

Anything that puts us farther away from death.  But we all have to survive and maybe if we realized that we really are all the same, we could HELP each other survive, and maybe in so doing reach our highest self.

We try doing things that keep us from death or even challenge death.  Sky-dive, perform, put other people down so that we might rise.

But death is never more than a few inches away.

The meaning of life isn't earthly.  You might succeed in leaving a name behind, whether famous or infamous, but even that will fade over time.

Great monuments have been built to the fear of death.  The Pyramids, for example.  Even these will crumble.

Forget it.  We're all going to die, one way or another, sooner or later, so we might as well try to live a life where someone will miss us when we are gone.  That's as close to immortal as we can get.

 

"In interactions with others, instead of trying to be right, why not be kind." -- Dr. Wayne Dyer

 

frickin' brilliant

http://bobopuppyhead.blogspot.com/

wasting time

Which Website are You?

questionnaire

from http://journals.aol.com/wayoutdacloset/ThoughtsPoemsScribbles/ 

This could be fun! Copy & paste to your journal. Adjust the x's so there is an X by all the things you have done  If you don’t mind, send me a link, so I can read your list. J

The object is simple:  Put an "X" next to the things you've done:

(X) smoked a cigarette
(X ) smoked a cigar 
(X) made out with a member of the same sex

(x) been in love...
(x) been dumped
( x ) stolen.... as a kid, i know stupid thing to do not proud of it
( ) been fired   
( x) been in a fight...... verbally
( ) snuck out of my parent's house
(x) had feelings for someone who didn't have them back
( ) been arrested No, but a deputy sheriff once pulled me over and then sped away.

( ) made out with a stranger 
( ) gone on a blind date.
(x) lied to a friend

(x) had a crush on a teacher

( ) skipped school  Nope, never.  Too much of a nerd.
( ) slept with a co-worker
(x) seen someone die

( ) had a crush on one of your blogging friends
( ) been to Canada
(x ) been to Mexico
(x) been on a plane
( ) thrown up in a bar
(x) purposely set a part of myself on fire 
(x) eaten Sushi
( ) been snowboarding
( ) met someone in person from the journals.
(  ) been hxc dancing at a show 
( ) been in an abusive relationship  Hmmm....
(x) taken painkillers

(x) love someone or miss someone right now

(x) laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by
(x) made a snow angel
(x) had a tea party
(x) flown a kite
(x) built a sand castle
(x) gone puddle jumping
(x) played dress up
(x) jumped into a pile of leaves
(x) gone sledding
(x) cheated while playing a game

(x) been lonely
 x) fallen asleep at work/school
(  ) used a fake id
(x) watched the sun set
( ) felt an earthquake
(x) touched a snake
(x) slept beneath the stars
(x) been tickled
( x ) been robbed
(x) been misunderstood
( x) pet a reindeer/goat
(x) won a contest
(x) run a red light
( ) been suspended from school
(x) been in a car accident
(x) had braces
(x) felt like an outcast
(x) eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night
(x) had deja vu
(x) danced in the moonlight
(x) hated the way you look
(x) witnessed a crime
( ) pole danced
(x) questioned your heart
( ) been obsessed with post-it notes
(x) squished barefoot through the mud
(x) been lost
( ) been to the opposite side of the country
(x) swam in the ocean
( x) felt like dying
(x) cried yourself to sleep
(x) played cops and robbers
(x) recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers

( ) sung karaoke (no, but I've done back-up dancing)
(x) paid for something with only coins
(x) done something you told yourself you wouldn't
(x ) made prank phone calls

(x) laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(x) caught a snowflake on your tongue
(x) danced in the rain
(x) written a letter to Santa Claus
(x) been kissed under a mistletoe
(x ) watched the sun set with someone you care about
(x) blown bubbles
(x) made a bonfire....
( ) crashed a party
(x) gone roller-skating
(x) had a wish come true
( ) humped a monkey
( ) worn pearls
( ) jumped off a bridge

( ) screamed penis in class.
(x) ate dog/cat food
( ) told a complete stranger you loved them
(x) kissed a mirror
(x) sang in the shower
( ) have a little black dress
(x ) had a dream that you married someone
( ) glued your hand to something
( ) got your tongue stuck to a flag pole
( ) kissed a fish
(x ) worn the opposite sexes clothes (for a play)

( ) been a cheerleader
(x) sat on a roof top
(x) screamed at the top of your lungs
( ) done a one-handed cartwheel
(x) talked on the phonefor more than 6 hours
(x) stayed up all night (  ) didn't take a shower for a week ( x) pick and ate an apple right off the tree
(x) climbed a tree
( ) had a tree house
(  ) are too scared to watch scary movies alone
( ) believe in ghosts
( ) have more then 30 pairs of shoes
( ) worn a really ugly outfit to school just to see what others say
(x ) gone streaking
( ) played ding-dong-ditch What the heck is that?  Ringing a doorbell and running away?

(x ) played chicken
(x) been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on
(x ) been told you're hot by a complete stranger

(x) broken a bone
(x) been easily amused
(x) caught a fish then ate it
( ) made porn
(x) caught a butterfly
(x) laughed so hard you cried
(x) cried so hard you laughed
(x) mooned/flashed someone  ( ) had someone moon/flash you
(x) cheated on a test
( ) have a Britney Spears CD
(x) forgotten someone's name
(x) slept naked
( ) French braided someone's hair
(x) gone skinny dippin in a pool
(  ) been kicked out of your house
(x) ridden a horse bareback
( ) eaten a lobster you caught yourself ( I did eat one my step-brother caught.  Florida "bug"... surprisingly good)
( ) killed another human being

 

Here's some things I've done that are not on the list:

(x) rode an elephant

(x) climbed a mountain

(X) made love outdoors, in an office, in a car (not mine), on the beach... and passed up the opportunity to have sex with more than one person simultaneously, twice.

(X) dressed in drag

(x) evacuated people from a building during a fire

(x) survived a major hurricane

(x) white-water rafted, kayaked, canoed

(x) showered in a rain storm

(X) wrote about 100 bad poems, read a few of them in public, had a couple chosen for a college literary magazine

(X) euthanized an animal the hard way

(x) flew through a car windshield

(X) sensed an other-worldly presence in the room of a dying person

(x) Promised to never smoke dope (again) and am keeping the promise

(x) attended a Feminist Equinox Full Moon Ritual... (a campground full of lesbians)

(x) marched for a cause

(x) took a non-violent action training course

(X) flipped head over heels while walking without meaning to... also did it once when I stopped my bicycle too quickly.  I landed on my bum with one arm still holding the bicycle upright.  And somebody saw me do it both times!

(x) can probably think of more cool, whacky and way-out things I've done

 

 

 

 

 

Film Recommendation

 

 

http://www.flightfromdeath.com/ 

Go to the ant, consider her ways and be wise.

That's a Bible quote, one that always stuck with me.

I was just viewing the death tolls from Hurricane Katrina and the thought came back to me.

What happens when an ant mound is destroyed?  Not damaged, but devastated:  They rebuild... somewhere else.

That's all I have to say about that.

5484

Wonder how my g/fs doing in Broward....

I was just getting ready to get in my car and go run an errand.  I took a shower and dressed.  I even moussed.  Suddenly it became perilously rainy. It's been windy all day.

The good thing: (though superficial) My grass is getting watered and will come back to life.

The bad thing:  We've had enough for a while, don't you think?

Rrrrraaaooowwww?

What happens to the famous seven-toed cats of Key West when a hurricane sweeps through?

As if...

They are in the process of hiring a replacement for the person who left my friend's job at the library.  They are going through lengthy interview processes for three days, but they already know who they will choose.  It's a shame that they are required to waste everyine else's time and money.

How do I know?  Today there is a vacancy at the main library.   One of three people will get the job.  It is likely to be the young girl who just graduated from Boston University this spring.

The favorite is a young man from another branch, but I do not see his job up for grabs yet.  I have heard the branch manager speak well of him almost every day.  I know that if she could choose, he would be the one.

I'd be pretty happy about that myself as I know him to be kind, self-possessed and with a good sense of humor.  Still who ends up with the job is anyone's guess.

Essay, continued

 

Who has no natural predators? The elephant.

These gentle, loyal, family-oriented, strong, wise and useful animals are my kind of "people." They have been a helpmate to man since recorded history makes mention of them. They took Hannibal over the Alps. They aided Alexander’s attempt to conquer the known world. They moved the stuff of civilizations. They were some of the very first "tour buses." However elephants did not need to prove useful to man to prove useful to the world.

(I choose not to address poaching and habitat loss. It is too heart-breaking.)

It’s true that elephants may trample brush underfoot and eat tons of their environment, but it is also true that they blaze trails for other wild animals and man to follow and bring plant life to new locations in their dung. There are, in fact, seeds that will not germinate unless they have passed through an elephant! Elephants pushing trees to the ground open a forest canopy for life-giving light to make it’s way to seedlings on the forest floor. Elephants dig down to the water level in dry riverbed locations, bringing life-giving water to other animals and plant life. It is said that knowledge of waterholes is ancestral lore, passed to each new generation.

They say that elephants never forget. This is probably due to the size of their craniums. The temporal lobe (the seat of memory) of the elephant is somewhat bigger and more convoluted than that of man. It would be wonderful if I could remember everything I want to recall. I am grateful however, sometimes, for the things that I have been able to forget.

Elephants remember each other for generations. Elephants that know each other or perhaps grew up together greet each other in an elaborate ceremony when they see each other again. It’s not anything like putting on a big dinner when your old uncle comes to town.

Humans ultimately die alone, but elephants attend each other beyond their passing. Observers tell of rituals of tender care and sympathy before, during and after death. Elephants will visit the bones of their dead, gently feeling the remains in remembrance. It’s hard to watch this and not feel vicarious grief.

And when members of an elephant family become separated the animals become anxious and call out to each other. I guess that makes the elephants better than me where it comes to keeping up with the relations. Their complex bonds are essential to survival and remembering who you can trust is a survival tool for any living being.

Every family herd of elephants is led by a venerable female, a matriarch, who keeps her family together. She knows whether to circle the wagons or to light out for the territories when threatened.

Elephants frolic when it’s safe, abandoning decorum to splash each other at the waterhole. These are my kind of people. I generally like to stay warm and dry but if you wanna splash around, don’t expect any mercy once I change into my playclothes.

Elephants live in herds without bulls on a day-to-day basis, but when one of the girls is in heat, bull are tolerated on the outskirts of the herd as they compete for her favor.

Once male elephants reach maturity, they are more or less on their own. They may opt to form a loose pack with other bulls, but there just isn’t the same organization going on. They spar for dominance among their peers and older bulls guide, teach and protect the up-and-comers. It is said that elephants not only remember each other but also each other’s social standing when they meet, so they need not vie for position again and again. But they will fight for hours, maybe even a day or two, and sometimes to death. (Men!)

African bulls come into "musth" in their 20s. That’s about 16 to a human boy, I would guess. This is the time when they want to bandy about and strut their stuff. They start stinking up the place with smelly urine to leave their mark. I’ve cleaned some young men’s rooms in my day and some bathrooms as well, and I can tell you… but I won’t....

The bull checks the females for readiness to mate through special organs in his mouth. He puts his trunk on her and breathes her in. If she is receptive, she invites him to follow her. She makes the choice. The male will stay with her until "esterus" ends, trying to protect her from other bulls. She may choose subsequent mates, thereby insuring that the big kahuna elephant, the strongest stud, is her baby’s daddy. Then she goes back into the company of the women who will help her raise her child. The poor gal gestates that sucker for 22 months. And you thought nine was a pisser! Almost two years! Dang!!! That might just be a major reason why males aren’t tolerated nor do they mate for life. Think about it....

Now, frankly, I personally don’t care for all this mating foolishness. I’m just not that kind of elephant. I’m happy in my crowd of girls with anoccasional visit from the dudes for their sake, but that’s just me. This is MY essay, after all.

Did I mention that the female elephant is ready to mate for only two days in four years?  Ahhh.  Imagine the freedom.

Maybe one of the best things about the elephant from a human perspective is that wrinkles are not only beautiful to another elephant but essential in helping them stay cool. Water and mud linger in the wrinkles and help them stay cool as the water evaporates. Elephants can tolerate temperature extremes but even elephants have to keep from getting too hot. Their ears act as radiators, cooling the blood which flows back into their bodies. The deeper and more plentiful the wrinkles, they cooler you are. Take that, Oil of Olay!

And what life wasn't enriched by playing in dirt and mud?  Imagine if it was socially acceptable for all ages!

Think of all the time and money you’d save if you were allowed to embrace your wrinkles like an aging male movie star. Hmph.

Elephants eat 3/4ths of their lives, devouring about 50 tons a year each. They turn forests into grasslands and waterholes into swamps. They change their world almost as much as we do. (I didn’t say everything about them was good.) I don’t eat as often as an elephant. I usually only eat twice a day, but I probably spend a lot of time thinking about food.

Elephant teeth continually generate until they reach their 60s. They chew and wear down their teeth but more teeth push forward to replace the worn teeth. Finally, when the last teeth wear down, the elephant can no longer eat as much and death is not far off.

Now elephants are an untapped resource. One elephant "pooties" enough methane by-product from it’s digestion processes in a day to fuel 20 miles of car travel! All the more reason to keep them around. Alternative energy on both ends!

Now let’s get to the really good part of the elephant: the trunk. Strong and sensitive, this is a fascinating device. Able to lift 450 pounds without fuss, able to drag much more weight, it reaches plants that other animals cannot with it’s telescoping action (that includes giraffes!) With it, an elephant is able to siphon 56 gallons of water in 4&1/2 minutes. It possesses a keener sense of smell than a dog and is as dexterous as a human hand. And elephant can pick lint from it’s eye or a single seed from the ground.

The trunk is a siphon, a hose and a bucket. Elephants pull water into their schnozzles and lift it to their mouths and let the water into their throats. Taking in water through the sinuses must be 1,000 times more uncomfortable to them than it is to us. Eesh!

The trunk is more useful than a Swiss Army knife. It has no bones, but rather is controlled by some 100,000 muscles which allow it to bend in any direction. It takes a long time to perfect trunk control though. Imagine stepping on your own nose! I guess it helps keep the baby elephants busy.

Elephants can reach higher than giraffes into the trees, shake fruit to the ground, dig roots and tubers with their tusks and gather grasses in the depths of the swamp. Even when food is scarce, they have a means of surviving. With their amazing trunks they can dig to where water is only seeping and will patiently wait for their trunks to fill before drinking.

Like humans, elephants mature sexually in their teens. However while females can mother effectively, with support, from their teens, males of the genus aren’t likely to achieve fatherhood until they reach their 30s. And even then, they aren’t sticking around. Who needs ‘em? They’re smelly, anyway. But at least they were thoughtful enough to time their amorous attentions to a birth time when there is abundant food.

Raising a child is better when you do not do it alone. A calf finding itself in some dangerous or chaotic situation only need to cry out to have a herd attend it and bring it to safety. There was a time in human history when families stayed close together and the entire family provided your lessons on life.

So here were are: Elephants essentially have no one bothering them, live in interdependent, matriarchical and very caring family groups and provide many services to their habitat and the creatures that share it. They eat, sleep, exercise and frolic all in a day. They regulate their own temperature and do not sweat. The females support each other and don't desert their loved ones unless the survival of the herd depends upon it. They don't have jobs, don't need cars, eat whatever they can find and owe nothing to VISA. What could be better?

Maybe one of the best things about elephants is that being huge is not only desirous but a sign of good health. A skinny elephant is a very bad thing.

Have another piece of pie, honey.

Jambo! http://journals.aol.com/judithheartsong/newbeginning/entries/1556

Heffalumps

Why not join in the fun of another Heartsong contest?

http://journals.aol.com/judithheartsong/newbeginning/entries/1556

Not that any animal's life is easy....

I have always thought that the dog was a noble creature, and one of the most virtuous. Dogs are faithful, loving, forgiving, smart, comforting, heroic. They ask little but time, affection, food and exercise. And when a dog "misbehaves" you can't really blame it. It's just acting on instinct and what it has learned from it’s humans.

Sometimes we lead animals to bad habits without realizing it. It's not really their fault if they pee on the floor after you've used ammonia to clean the floor. They are doing what comes naturally. They aren't really much different from children in that respect. If you feed an animal at the table, you are teaching it to beg.

I have often thought it would be great if someone held me in as high a regard as I felt for my dog.

And dogs lives aren't all that bad. They love to be outside and to run and play. They don't have to work much and they get to sleep a lot. The food they get isn't the greatest or most savory but they usually seem happy to get it.

There's just something comforting about the tick-tick-tick of dogs paws across a wooden floor. It has been said that the simple act of stroking a dog's fur is calming, and that living with pets adds years to your life.

One of the best aspects of "owning" a dog is that he or she is a natural Good Will Ambassador to your neighborhood. When you own a dog, you know your neighbors. They see you out walking and, attracted by your handsome furred companion, strike up conversation. If you were moseying through the neighborhood without a pet, they'd probably report you as suspicious. And dogs help us get exercise we might not otherwise get. I have known a woman who walked her cat on a leash but it's just not the same somehow.

I have always loved dogs. A shaggy white dog with tawny brown spots is one of the first things I was ever conscious of, one of my first memories. Her name was Gypsy. My parents adopted her from the animal shelter before my older sister was born.

I came late into affection for cats. My mother didn't want us to have cats because as a girl her cat would go out at night and fight and come back bloodied. My first cat experience came in college when I spent time in a friend's lakeside cabin with her kitten. I played with that cat all day. It was attention it needed. She and her roommate were both at school or work most of the day. When she came back to school the next day she was amazed at how much calmer the kitten was. It was the first inkling of my appreciation for things feline.

It wasn't until I was in my 20s that a cat finally came to live with us. I was home from college, staying to care for my mother. This raggedy little cat was in the backyard tossing a field mouse in the air. I don't how it happened but she made her way indoors and we were giving her food. I guess she checked us out and decided she would allow us her companionship. I guess she forgave us for having a dog.

When I suggested the shelter, Dad said "No, they’ll just put her to sleep." That was unexpected. I don't know why he did it. Maybe his heart is just too big.

"Katie" was a pretty calico cat, but she had ticks and worms and patches where she was missing some fur. We took her to the vet. I had plucked her ticks. The vet took care of the worms. Her hair grew back. And then I noticed that there were lumps in her belly. I didn't know what was up. The diagnosis was kittens, and when they arrived in a box under Dad's bed, he was thrilled.

He woke me up early in the morning. "Come here!", he said. "Look!" He was so proud that four squirmy kittens had come into the world under his bed. He felt so very honored.

That was 20 years ago. I haven't been cat-less since.

There are other animals it might be wonderful to be. I have wanted to experience the freedom and fun of bird flight since I heard Judy Garland sing "Over the Rainbow." It was the subject of the first poem I ever wrote. Still, there’s a lot of work to being a bird. And you have to obey the signals to fly with the seasons and you have to spend a lot of time looking for juicy bugs to eat and water to drink.

For all the delight of the freedom of flight, the idea of having to dive-bomb for your lunch, cats, windows, 18-wheelers, jet engines, other predatory birds and boys with bb guns just turns me off. The idea of going somewhere as the crow flies, though delightful, especially now with the price of gas rising, is outweighed by the hard work and various difficulties of avian life.

Every animal has something about them to be admired. Snakes can climb trees and swim. Otters are such cunning cuties. Anhingas are excellent fishermen. Ants are so industrious that the Bible mentions them. Even the mosquito and the flea, though two of the most annoying and treacherous beasties ever devised, are the source of millions of dollars in human revenue every year. Veterinarians owe their children’s college educations to the tiny flea. And wouldn’t you like to sell mosquito repellent in the swampy South or during black fly season in Maine?

It is clear that I would not want to be an animal on display in a circus or a zoo. It is true that for the most part these animals are treated as well as their "owners" are capable of. Still, there is no place like home and no food like what you get at home. The "people" who are your "people" are what home really is. There’s nothing like knowing the terrain and what’s on it, nothing like drinking the water and eating the food you are accustomed to, and smelling the air that’s filled with the smells that you know. Your heart is in the land of your birth and you are a part of it. Your soul homes in on the signal from the place where you belong.

I would want to be an animal with a strong sense of family. Dogs are pack animals and few things are more important to a dog than other dogs. Cats can take or leave other animals. I know that there are animals that mate for life. That is an appealing scenario to me. I know that the Sandhill Cranes that visit my yard are devoted to each other and to their annual chick.

I want to be constantly surrounded with helpful and affectionate others. I want a family with a sense of fun and also of protection. I want to be such a creature that few other animals seek to do me harm. I want to travel and yet always feel at home. I don’t want to have to work that hard to find food.

I have enough trouble trying to do all the things that I should and all of the things I would like to.  I need all the help I can get from my family and friends.

All animals have some sort of predator, man being the worst of these. Man is the animal than can opt to forget the ethics of wasting not. Man is the animal that knows greed beyond hunger, beyond need. Even the ants will devour the every edible part of corpse they use to nourish their colony. Even the bones of an animal become something for rodents to nibble for calcium. They won’t take only one part and let the rest rot. Predatory animals make no profit other than survival from their kill, and other animals benefit from the available leftovers. It is man that kills an entire animal for just one of it’s parts.

See the next entry for the rest of the story....

from The Stuart News

Geoff Oldfather: 'Open minds' church stops short of slogan

By Geoff Oldfather
Martin County columnist
September 18, 2005

Don't you just love slogans?

Like this one: "Open Minds. Open Hearts. Open Doors."

Advertisement
localnewsadtag(); It makes you feel you've found a refuge where no matter what your past sins, what your lifestyle might be, you're welcome to walk in those open doors and be embraced by open-minded people with good hearts.

It's the slogan of the First United Methodist Church of Hobe Sound.

But there's a question these days whether the slogan is right for the church.

The church has shut the doors to its day-care center, the First Learning Center, forcing the families of 37 children to scramble for someplace else to put them.

The church announced it was closing the center for financial reasons — a few days after the pastor and board members requested the resignation of a lesbian teacher at the center.

So much for open doors and open minds.

Vivian Throgmorton, the teacher, said she hasn't made any secret of the fact she's gay.

"If people ask me, I'm not going to lie about my life," Throgmorton said.

Throgmorton has been a teacher at the First Learning Center for about four years. Her past two annual reviews praised her work and initiative.

Last year she received "exceptional" ratings in all 26 areas listed on the evaluation form. Her review states in part that Throgmorton "has built a wonderful relationship with the children."

But on Aug. 29, Throgmorton was asked to resign.

The request came one day after Shari Carothers, the wife of a church board member, wrote a letter of complaint to church leaders about Throgmorton's relationship with another center employee, saying they have "professed to be homosexual."

"Alternative lifestyles should not be a position we expose our young children to in a Christian day care," Carothers wrote. "As a parent that sends my children to a religious school, I have entrusted that they have hired and are teaching my children in a Christian manner."

Asked last week about her complaint, Carothers said it was "a private letter to the board."

She said she wrote the letter so the day-care center would be "checked on in a closer manner by the church to see that it was run the way we wanted it run as far as the children's spirituality, which wasn't being followed."

On Aug. 29, the Rev. Jim Trainer forwarded the complaint to center director Patricia Piche, along with a memo in which he raised questions about whether Throgmorton's relationship was affecting other workers and parents at the center.

Trainer said one student had withdrawn and a teacher had resigned because "they were unable to reconcile ... the employment of persons in such a relationship in a Christian-based pre-school."

Trainer asked Piche whether any center employees held beliefs "other than Christianity," and continued, "What measures have you taken to ensure that the relationship ... does not interfere with the quality of education."

Trainer also asked about "alleged accounts of inappropriate display of affection at the workplace ... namely the stroking of hair."

Trainer last week declined to discuss the day-care situation or his memo.

Piche responded in writing to the memo that the teacher who resigned disapproved of the Throgmorton relationship, and that "I have never seen any inappropriate display of affection."

On the education quality issue, Piche wrote, "We convey our faith by teaching the children about love, compassion and forgiveness by modeling it."

Later on Aug. 29, Throgmorton said that "without any warning" she was called to a meeting with Trainer and Piche and asked to resign. The written reason was that she was "lacking in interpersonal skills with other team members."

Throgmorton refused to resign.

Later that week, parents were notified in writing that the First Learning Center was closing because "the school faces an increasing financial deficit."

Piche, in an interview, said church officials never said anything about closing the center until the subject of Throgmorton's sexual orientation came up.

"Before? No. Nobody said we're going to shut down," Piche said.

She said the center received state pre-k funding of $2,400 each for 10 students, and other subsidies.

"There were some financial issues with some parents who do not pay on time, and because I want to have a quality center I was perhaps overstaffed; the ratio was too good, I think," Piche said. "But if we didn't have the other issue, it would have been worked out."

Some parents call the center's closing "a smokescreen."

"Patricia told us she was told by the board she was not allowed to discuss with the parents the real reason of why they're closing the school, which is because Miss Vivian is gay," said Abby Livigne-Baker.

"The school itself is the best I've ever had my kids at. I'm very happy with it. It's the kids who are going to suffer, really," Livigne-Baker said.

Crystal Spurgeon has two children who have been at the center.

She said she'd known Throgmorton about six years and found out last year she was gay.

"Did it bother me? Not at all," Spurgeon said. "It didn't bother to me to think she had been in a relationship with a woman while she was teaching my daughter; it wouldn't have made any difference. She's an excellent teacher."

No doubt there are many good people in the congregation who have strong opinions both for and against keeping Throgmorton as a teacher.

Still, remember the church's slogan: "Open Minds. Open Hearts. Open Doors."

Right.

Martin County columnist Geoff Oldfather can be reached at (772) 221-4217, or at geoff.oldfather@scripps.com

Happy Birthday, RBC!

Today is the birthday of a very good friend, known to some of you as "Relentlessly Blinking Cursor." She is a very keen student of life who does not write her observations nearly often enough to suit me.

I first met Cristy in 1997 when I came to work at the animal hospital. It was the first time that I noticed her, but she remembered me from the time that I volunteered at a local elementary school in Special Education classrooms.

I was being taken around the hospital and introduced.  The sight of Cristy made my heart bounce.  I heard my inner-self praying, "Oh lord, tell me she's gay!"  She was gorgeous.  I noticed her dark dancing eyes and her wild dark hair.  She spoke to me like she knew me, with a pinch of salt that I have come to know as her cynical wit.

I was kind of awestruck and didn't know what to say, but I knew that I liked her.  It made me happy to get fussed at by her when I helped her out.  I had no idea that it would turn into a friendship and beyond that, my moral support system.

Things rolled right along until the fateful night that I met her and her husband and mother in a gay bar. They were there to celebrate an event. I had a straight friend along.  I sheepishly asked if I could let my "straight friend" join them.

Cristy must have already known I was gay.  I guess you had to be there, but it was confirmation.  It wasn't until a good while later that I finally began talking to Cristy about my life.  In fact, I remember that we were in her car, running a food errand for the hospital when I first said something about being gay.

I don't know what I did to get so lucky.  Cristy does not take people in easily.  She seems to know who will be loyal.  She is a kind, considerate hostess.  She shares easily and gives freely.  She even manages to be considerate of people that she does not care for.  I think that is what makes a person big.

Cristy encourages me to keep rolling along with my life. 

She came an unpacked me when I moved to the place I live now. 

She keeps threatening to sneak into my house while I am away and clean it.  I am almost tempted to leave a key for her because I am too sentimental.  That should read "ought to be sent to a mental...."  Pack-rat-itis is an unhealthy thing.

She helped me cover my arse when I found it necessary to break up with someone earlier this year, giving me the words I didn't know how to say.

Every weekend is time to be with her and her family and friends.  Friday night and Sunday night, unless something extraordinary happens.

Cristy is a "brassy broad with a heart of gold."  I love that type of woman!

You'd never guess that she and her family are from Nebraska.  She is as worldly as any hussy from a big city.

She is sooo sassy.  She gives the death glare to her husband when he walk by and shoots us the high sign of international love and brotherhood if we tease or displease her.

Today she will be all of 34.  Isn't that cute?  Hmmm, in many ways she is older than me.  She certainly is wiser in the ways of the world.

I know she has times of blueness, but her life is good.  Nice home, decent husband, gorgeous and talented daughter, best dog in the world, job where she has power and influence, her mom is close by and her mother-in-law adores her, and fabulous friends....  Life is good.

I hope to be like her when I grow up.

Until then, we must continue to worship her for the goddess she is.

 

(**Note** Yesterday was my step-mother's birthday, today is Cristy and my library boss' birthday, tomorrow is the birthday of the veterinarian and my step-brother.  Coincidence that I have these "Cancers" in my life?  I think not.  I joked with a co-worker on Friday that I need to interview my potential employers and ask when their birthday is.  I have tried not to give credence to astrology but there are times when it just seems to ironic to not pay attention to.)

5405

Judi Heartsong, I hope you don't mind...

...I wouldn't be the first to write about you.

 

I'm wiping my eyes because of an octopus.  AGAIN. (If you cried or got misty the first time, don't read it twice.)

Geez, JH. 

At least I can do that much.

When she talks about her family, there's nothing you can do.

Here is this stranger and friend, creating beauty in the world and moving us with her life.

I write to her sometimes.  Sometimes we IM. 

I rarely comment though I read every entry in her journal and in Virginia's journal, too, as they pop up, the instant they publsh, in my alerts.

There is a lot of good stuff out there in journal-land.  Judi, though, is not like anyone else. 

I don't even bother to compare myself.  We have only this in common: we are lesbians.  You might as well compare apples to porcupines. 

A few days ago I was out in the hot sun, rolling a cart to the outdoor bookdrop at the library when I got a sudden chill of delight: "Judi Heartsong calls me "friend."

It made me wish she lived closer.  We are about to get a mural in the children's section.  It is inspired by a large collection of stuffed animals that has been the gift, primarily of a single patron, who still brings critters we don't have yet. 

We have a pelican, a zebra, a red panda and dolphins and turtles and bears and penguins and kangaroos.   We have turtles, a lemur, an ape, an armadillo, a possum....  The collection sits on the tops of the shelves and children make a beeline across the library to play with their favorite one.

We are the envy of the other five libraries in the county system.  We often loan out our animals for storytimes.

My hope is that the artist who has been chosen to do the work can do the room justice.  It can't be easy as the animals represent all environments, from desert to jungle and undersea as well.

I wish, though, that the work was going to be that of my favorite artist, someone who can provide something of the real and something of a dream.

http://hometown.aol.com/__121b_qIJX4ZNfP8ffrgp/H8u/4Je2lO0Rbb1A0ZAYOYMuwoSK7evYKIzXZw==

http://hometown.aol.com/judithheartsong/myhomepage/  

http://hometown.aol.com/__121b_qIJX4ZNfP8ffrgp/H8u/4ML3ioN0hrUIVIaLXtUB7h4=

compliments, ghosts and bratty kids

Last night, one of those animated greetings arrived on my screen with a note of encouragement about discrimination.  I sent a note of thanks via IM. It was a total stanger who apologized for having read my journal.  I reassured her that it was okay as the journal is public.

That was nice, really nice.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

Yesterday I offered my services at the first official meeting of the Democratic Women's Club ub this county.  My step-mother is the president (as of yesterday.)  My job was to mind the table that was laid out with her cousin's books and information from the Supervisor of Elections office.

An old friend, who is a former county commissioner, came over an told me to come take one of her canoes out anytime I want to.  She is from a well-known Florida family out of Miami.  I first met her when my parents moved back home here when I was 13. 

My father took us, individually, to work with him throughout our childhoods.  We visited courtrooms, jails, county commission offices, judges chambers, lawyer offices, police stations, city halls.  He introduced us to everyone, even the sandwich vendor and the man who sold him Cuban shirts when he worked in Miami.

Maggy, the sister of a famous Miami attorney, took a shine to me when I was in high school and volunteered to work on her campaign.  I was chosen to represent her in mock elections in the classroom.  I was the only representative that lost the election.  All the other Maggy's in their class period won.  But I was a nerd running against a cheerleader who bought her votes with Snickers bars.

Ever since then, when we see each other, she says the nicest things to me.

I didn't start this item to write about her.  Yesterday I was alos greeted by a woman that I have not seen in 27 years.  She came over and introduced herself and reminded me that we boarded horses together.

When I was a senior in high school, my father bought me a horse.   He wanted me to be happy but I was immature and had an idealized daydream as most young girls do.  It would have been wiser to find a riding stable that allowed me to get over the daydream.  But what did we know back then?

I got upset once when I found the food uncovered, and being scared, left a note I am ashamed of about the necessity of keeping the horses healthy. The ladies called my house and expressed how the note had upset them.  It was one of the worst moments of my young life.  I meant no harm, and I did not mean to upset people.

When this lady introduced herself, I felt instant shame.  Maybe she has forgiven and forgotten, but I haven't.  When I make people upset, my pain is very acute.  It is a deep and riveting kind of dread that sinks to my bones and makes me want to explode to empty it from my marrow.

I said something to her, I told her where the hourse is now, and she said she just wanted to stell me who she was and she just sort of slipped back out of the room and into the crowd without really turning her back.  Although I may have been looking down or away....

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

I know that I certainly had bratty moments when I was a child, but for the most part I was quiet and good.  As a middle-aged woman, I look at mothers who allow their kids to run and scream and throw fits in the library (and elsewhere) and I just shake my head.

My mother had a way of calming me.  I think that if it was something I wanted she would explain to me why if her answer was "No."  She was gentle but I do not remember what she did when we were upset and whiny.  I don't remember crying, except once.  I wanted a blackboard in the days of S&H Green Stamps.  When we went to the store to redeem the stamps, the store was closed and I bawled my eyes out.  It was a simple matter of going back when the store was open, but tell that to a 4-year-old.

I remember her telling the cashier about how much I cried.

But I digress...

I may have been bratty at times, but my parents didn't let it get out of hand.  They spoke to me, they calmed me down, they let me know it would be okay.

These days, small children run around the library stacks, scream at the top of their lungs, let the whole place know that they are not getting something they want, whether its the library or Wal-Mart.  Older kids put their parents down for not producing everything they desire, verbally abuse their parents, threaten them.  I've seen it.

My step-mother is a victim of this, as is my girlfriend.

A child was behaving terribly in the library a few days ago and I spoke to Carol, the "Homework Helper," a former Montessori teacher and mother of two.  She concurred that parents now offer quantity over quality and there is no substitute for the quality time they need to give.

But I see children learning VERY EARLY how to manipulate their parents and never stopping.  I see tiny kids who smile wickedly, knowing they will get what they want.  They turn into teenagers that are exceedingly rude and abusive to their parents.  Why?  Because they were given everything their hearts desired.

The sad thing is, these people are raising a country: People growing up to be selfish, thoughtless and immoral and even abusive cry-baby brats.

And when I reach old age, they will be in power.  God help us.

confirmation

My boss confirmed the fact that the woman in charge of hiring at the library does not like me.  I said, "She is absolutely prejudiced against me." She responded, "Yes, and ****,too, though I don't understand why...."

Oops!  I wanted to tell her that she just admitted that even she knows it to be true.  I doubt that she realized what she said.  If only someone else had heard it.

So that broke the last thread holding me back from saying anything to the administration.  I wrote to the Human Resources administrator, asking if denying an interview was legal.  I kept it simple. I did not mention names. We'll see if anything at all comes of it.

However, like I said, it is still legal to discriminate against homosexuals in Florida.  I do not know if the woman in question knows that I'm gay.  She might be prejudiced for any other reason... the way I dress, the way I spoke to her, my height, the scars on my face, the color of my teeth... who the heck knows? 

Only that woman.  And she is a powerful woman.

 

 

How You Are In Love You take a while to fall in love with someone. Trust takes time.

You give and take equally in relationships.

You need your space and privacy. You don't like to be smothered.

You love your partner unconditionally and don't try to make them change.

You stay in love for a long time, even if you aren't loved back. When you fall, you fall hard. How Are You In Love?

Your Career Type: Social You are helpful, friendly, and trustworthy.
Your talents lie in teaching, nursing, giving information, and solving social problems.

You would make an excellent:

Counselor - Dental Hygienist - Librarian
Nurse - Parole Officer - Personal Trainer
Physical Therapist - Social Worker - Teacher

The worst career options for your are realistic careers, like truck driver or farmer. What's Your Ideal Career?

A- Hardly anything gets by you...
You have a great memory and eagle eyes How Observant Are You?

Your Brain's Pattern You have a dreamy mind, full of fancy and fantasy.
You have the ability to stay forever entertained with your thoughts.
People may say you're hard to read, but that's because you're so internally focused.
But when you do share what you're thinking, people are impressed with your imagination. What Pattern Is Your Brain?

Your Personality Profile You are dependable, popular, and observant.
Deep and thoughtful, you are prone to moodiness.
In fact, your emotions tend to influence everything you do.

You are unique, creative, and expressive.
You don't mind waving your freak flag every once and a while.
And lucky for you, most people find your weird ways charming! The World's Shortest Personality Test

You Are 27 Years Old Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.

30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!

40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax. What Age Do You Act?

"Comin' through the dirge"

The second line: After he's through wrecking the country, will there be any schools were school children will learn (the truth) about him?  Will there be any books?  Will there be any children?

The Gay Card

I had a vision today.  I had calling cards in two separate cases in my pockets.  One case had a plus sign on the cover, the other had a minus sign. I handed out the card in the minus or negative case to people who are or might be intolerant, or whose having the other card might endanger me somehow.

What is on the cards?  Well, both cards have my name but the positive card has more information, incluing a link to this journal.  The negative cards are all business and sparse with info.  The e-mail address is not Virage65@aol.com but some other e-mail account for people who are not family and friends or gay-friendly.

This idea probably came from the idea that it is not illegal to discriminate against people for being homosexual in the state of Florida. This is one of the things that I think about when I think about the way the library has treated me.

It could very well be that the woman refused me an interview knows that I'm gay.  Not that it matters. Whatever I'm doing to prevent the woman from adoring me, it's done.  Her view of me is set.

I have no doubt that there was some underlying reason to not help me move up. 

My decision is to seek counsel with Human Resources, saying only that I was denied an interview. 

And maybe I need to ask about the fact that I work 40 hours every week and have for four years and yet don't have benefits. 

As for the calling cards...  I don't wat to feel like I have to hide anymore, in any way.   It's tiresome. 

I think most of my co-workers would be okay with it.  It's just other certain folks that I have enough trouble with already.  They don't need much excuse to make life difficult for other people.

 

"Requiem" by Ana Juan

 

You know art when you see it because it makes you feel something.

house ain't burnin'

I suppose it's better to come home for lunch and find you've left your computer on than it is to find you left the stove on!

Actually, in regards to that previous post, I woke up around three because I crashed when I got home around 8.  I got up and undressed.  I had at least removed my shoes.  Yesterday was a long day.  Out of my work clothes, I laid back down and tried to sleep.  Then I was too awake....

 

Feed My Lambs

I like how we help each other along just by being.

 

Last night, a young male blogger who also works for the library system was at my branch for a farewell send-off. He told me that he really hasn't been reading my blog... in part due to some issues with our dearly beloved server AOL.  He wants me to post in my LiveJournal.  AOL is just the one that flows for me, the one that gets me responses from people that I am coming to know.  Although it's true that Joe, this fella, and Josh, the youngster who inspired me to start blogging are locals... they are also young men in their 20s.  I am actually old enough to be their mother.  What business do we have with each other?  Why would a young man want to chill with an aging lesbian who lives at the poverty level?  Huh? 

 

It's nice that they think I'm cool enough to read my blog.  At the same time, it's kind of worrisome.  For all I know, having come out to these young men via my journal may be a big part of the reason I cannot seem to move up in the library system.  Loose lips sink ships.

 

I was denied an interview after applying for a regular full-time position with the library system.  Having work their almost four years, I was told that I did not have enough training.  Draw your own conclusions and just know that the person who did that to me absolutely won a negative view in my eyes.  What a crock of bull!

 

But I didn't mean to go off on that neurotic and bitter tangent.  I was talking about how we help each other get along.  I sometimes correspond with someone on-line with whom I relate well,  I think she appreciates that my being gay means I don't have to ask questions she doesn't particularly care to answer when we do talk.

 

I was just reminded of a friend in college who had "Feed My Lambs" on her wall.  She told me that we are all each other's hosts and each other's guests.  It's funny how much more I learned being at college than I did from going to college.

 

One of the other great statements of that time was from Ivan Guarino, one of a mob of "deadheads" who moved to school together.  He said, "We are all the same."  When I tried to protest, he shook his head at me.  It's true, as odd as it seems. We all bleed, we all fart and we all need food, shelter and belongingness.  Some of us are over-sensitive and some of us are unconscionably sociopathic, but we are all the same.

 

It's funny.  I occasionally correspond with another blogger and our correspondence serves to enrich us both it seems. You gotta love that.  It's a new kind of relationship for me.  I have written since elementary school, but to know that someone is actually affected by and responds to what I say... well, that's a trip.

 

I see my future before me.  It doesn't look too promising. I can see having nothing making my old age really suck.  However I will have lived a life that amused me some.  I will have given something out that people can use and some part of me will trickle forth into the future though no one will know that it started with me.  That doesn't matter. 

 

Names are just vanity.  In the overall scheme of things, we are just a pool of writhing life with output, some of which is beauty, some of which is waste and the rest of which is more writhing life.  Maybe all of it is vanity.

 

Composed @ 4:30 a.m.

bad news/good news

Bad news: I have to go to get up and go to work again today.

Good news: Saturday night I'm going to Em's for the weekend.

Bad news:  A dear co-worker is leaving us for good.

Good news:  We are throwing a little wing-ding for her tonight.

Bad news: I think I am falling into some serious love with my new girl but she is two counties away.  Nobody else has ever been "serious."

Good news:  My affection is returned.  She hasn't said "it" yet but she lets me know that she wants me.  We talk for hours at a time.  (Ok, mostly she talks.)

Bad news: I am miserable at work.  I have got to get out of there and make a real living. 

Good news:  It's gonna happen sooner or later.  I just have to keep working at it.  Hmmm, maybe I should move two counties away....

in quiet words of Creek

This morning I got to go back to the Lake Okeechobee area to visit with Seminole friends.  The Labor Day Rodeo is a tradition, but we don't go for the rodeo.  We go to see our Seminole friends who set up booths for pumpkin bread and sewn crafts such as palm dolls, shirts, skirts, necklaces and bracelets.

We watched the parade until it started to rain and then we ran to the booths and watched the rest of the parade go by.

Finally, the rain stopped and people began returning to the booths.  I was seated beside Judy, approximately... 40-something years old (but I could be wrong), and her mother, Shule (pronounced shoe-lah), who is about 70 now.

Every time someone came up to the booth and asked the price of something, Judy would turn to her mother and speak to her in Creek.  Shule would answer and Judy would tell the customer the price.  Sometimes it was more or less than the last person was quoted.  I found it very amusing and not at all improper.

Moses Osceola, the president of the tribe, came to the booth and spoke for quite a while with my father about projects that are pending with the tribe, including gathering supplies to send to victims of Hurricane Katrina.

Judy leaned over and spoke to me.  "They tell us that hurricanes are indians so we needn't fear them," she said.  Then she added, "My sister-in-law is a member of the Wind tribe, so we are protected."  She laughed, "We have nothing to worry about."

As we sat quietly watching everything happen around us, I noticed that people would come up to the booth and start to ask Judy, who sat in the middle, about the product and the price but then would turn to me to finish whatever they were saying.

I just looked at them and pointed to Judy.

You shouldn't make assumptions.  Indians, Seminoles anyway, are very reserved.  They speak to you only when they want or need to.   Waiting to be spoken to is usually the best course of action unless you have actual business with them. 

Selling things from a vendors booth is very odd.  It is a job for people who can allow other people to approach in various ways, paw the wares, act friendly and then walk away.

I don't know that I could sell something I made and like to any putz who comes along.  I wonder how artists learn to let go.  I guess you have to be in it for something else... the interaction, thebeing part of something, the casting of your goods into the universe, the money.

But the Seminoles do not have to sell food and bead art and clothes.   They could give up cattle if they wanted to. The casino brings in a dividend for every registered member of the tribe.  It is enough to live comfortably on without lifting a finger.

It is an extreme turn-around from a mere 30 years ago when the tribe lived in extreme poverty, in tired shacks, eking out an existence from ranching and crafts, and supplementing their tables with what they could catch or grow.

Yet it is tragic in a way.  Even though the kids now go to school to learn about their culture and their language, and even though a Seminole can go to any college in Florida for free, they now have little real incentive to do much of anything.

But Shule never stops.  She always works at something.  Much has happened in three generations time.

 

It occurs to me now that I should have gathered some of Shule's treasures to send to a certain party in the Virginia area who enjoys baubles and other people's art.

 

**For your edification: The term "Squaw" is a very rude word.  You must not refer to an indian woman that way in less you intend extreme insult.  "Squaw" is the equivalent of female genitalia, and by using it, you liken, and lessen, a woman to her sexual use.  Call a woman a "woman."  Call her a Seminole woman, a Cherokee woman, a Caucasian woman, a Jewish woman, a black woman if you have to differentiate.  Otherwise, give a woman respect.  A woman is a woman is a woman.  Her free and voluntary attentions are a precious gift.  Ain't no "squaw" about it.

5234