People can be such idiots.

What brings me to this unhappy conclusion? Well, I’ll tell ya. It has a lot to do with those old poops who advised me to beat my child when she had a public meltdown. No, she wasn’t just spoiled. She is a child of autism and has emotional and social disabilities. Tell me though, who do you think is really more socially inept? Those with social disabilities, or those who can’t accept these people with humility, imagination, and grace? I know the answer, but I won’t spoil it for ya.

Then there’s the store clerk who said, “I don’t believe in ‘syndromes.’” Well yeah, it’s always easy to have an opinion at a safe distance from the problem. But I have to live with the reality 24/7, so I have to be more responsible than that.

Then there’s those who think celiac disease is some sort of current fashion. Some sort of "band wagon." Ok, maybe there are those few who’ve gone on a gluten-free diet as if it’s the next greatest fad diet to try. But celiac disease is no fashion. It’s a medically tested auto-immune disease. It hurts. It causes pain, bloating, gall bladder disease, fatty liver, depression and more. Is all this terribly “fashionable” to some people?


Is cancer just a “fashion?” Is pneumonia just a hot fashion now that antibiotics have lost some of their power? Is diabetes just a rollicking modern fashion too?





Once again, it’s always so easy to have an opinion at a safe distance from the reality. But as much as I hate to confuse people whose minds are already made up with pesky facts: there is no day off from autism, ADHD, Asperger’s Syndrome. There is no day off from celiac disease, or even just gluten intolerance. There is no day off from Colitis. There is no day off from Diabetes, even for those who are just pre-D and in prevention mode. Just as there’s no day off from many health issues, from any auto-immune disorders or diseases, such as PANDAS and more, to cancers, to mental disorders, such as depression or bi-polar disorder, that make every day a challenge, and some days a living hell.

These health issues are not games. They aren't something people drum up just to be “difficult.” They aren’t a joke for someone else’s entertainment. They aren’t about effing “FASHION” or playful BAND WAGONS... they are about living day to day with any and ALL the life-altering challenges that reality will throw at us. If you don’t get it, then you don’t. Lucky you. Just be aware that you damage your own credibility when you belittle the challenges that others face on a daily basis ~ especially those who face several of these challenges all at once.

You think they aren’t real? Well, with all the respect you’re due, you’re an idiot.

Really????

The poster, let's call him John S., wrote that he was retired from the armed services and regretted never having learned to dance. He would have liked to learn, he said. He said no more, just leaving that out there.

Another poster saw John's post. Let's call him Tanglefoot. Now Tanglefoot had been injured in an accident and he took dance lessons as part of his recovery therapy. It was something he'd always wanted to do as well, so he thought he'd be a sport and tell John all about it.

"I took lessons at a dance studio," wrote Tanglefoot. "The instructors were great ~ very patient ~ and I actually got very good at it, despite my disability. I don't dance to rock though, and I'm glad disco is dead, but I love being able to squire my lady around the dance floor to the slow tunes." He went to the trouble of including an URL to a national dance studio to help John out if he wanted to look into it.

But John came back with a little tidbit of information that he'd left out of his original post. "I lost my legs in Iraq," he said. "I don't much wear the prosthetics because they pinch, so I don't think I'll be dancing any time soon."

Tanglefoot was shocked, of course. But he was also angry. He felt used ~ taken advantage of by someone whose original post was not genuine... someone who just wanted sympathy and attention. Indeed, he felt bad for the guy, losing both legs, but he didn't like being misled, and sucked into the other man's self-pity.
Something stinks, Petunia


Tanglefoot himself was an amputee, having lost his foot in a winter climbing accident. But dancing had been the therapy he needed to gain the balance, physical strength and confidence he needed to manage now with the prosthetic foot. But while he was straight up about his disability, he didn't mention details because life isn't a contest and he didn't like to reduce it to one. He just didn't talk to John again.

Compassion? That cuts both ways, or at least it should. When someone presumes they are somehow more deserving of it and wastes someone else's time and effort in a pointless exercise, just to get pity and attention, they risk being denied the very thing they seek.

Yes, people like this have my pity, but not my respect. Perhaps that's partly because I know a great many people, mothers mostly, who face spirit-crushing challenges day in and day out with their kids, who aren't well, and who aren't always getting the medical care they need because of a backward medical community. These moms struggle to inform themselves through what is often a minefield of misinformation, and they take on the status quo and fight for their kids with amazing strength and determination. And they often do so without the support of loved ones... those very people they should be able to count on to stand with them. Then they turn around and help others who are tackling the same minefield, and they do so with love, compassion and grace. These are the people I admire and respect and for whom I have empathy and compassion.

But then there are the others.... I understand how Tanglefoot felt after his encounter with John S. People who are frightened and lonely will always have my sympathy. But I've made the same mistake as Tanglefoot a few times. It's made me hesitant to take people at face value. No challenge gives one person the right to "play" another and I intend to be more circumspect in future. I don't want to be sucked in by those lost in self-pity who think it's ok to misrepresent their situation as if the rest of us have nothing better to do than give them our attention whenever they want it.

Yeah, really.

The Market, and the Unseeing People

I've mentioned the market before.... in a previous post. I think community markets are great. You can get all kinds of foods, as well as locally made arts and crafts. These markets are all about locally grown, often organically or naturally grown meats, vegetables, fruits and more. And local artisans offer up unique items of hand-made beauty, as opposed to those department store things made in some off-shore sweat shop or assembly line.

This colourful hanging thing is made of origami birds!


There are always people who understand this and who shop the market all season long, enjoying the varied fruits of the season. But in the past several weeks of "doing" the market in my local community, I've noticed that there are also a lot of lost people who apparently don't see what is around them.


I don't know why these people come to the market. They walk through quickly, not looking left or right at the goods available. It's ok if they don't want to buy, but why would they not open their eyes and take a little look? Pass the time of day with the vendors or with others who've been attracted to the site? But these people seem quite blind to what is going on all around them. They navigate the wandering crowds, the little knobs of people standing chatting.

They aren't even annoyed by the obstacles. They just duck and weave around them and keep walking. They could always just walk through the parking lot, a stone's throw away, if they're just out for a brisk walk, instead of wending their way through the crowds of shoppers, huggers and chatters. There are few obstacles in the parking lot. Just some parked cars. No people, dogs, kids or other moving obstacles to slow them down. And yet.... there they are, seemingly unaware of where they are, what they're doing there, the goods or the humanity around them. Even if they don't see, you'd think they'd notice the smells...
the hot pies, the potato burgers, the herbs! And the garlic! My goodness... the garlic!!

Who are these people? Why are they walking blind? What is their stress that they get up, get dressed and come out to market, yet notice nothing?

Oh well, there's nothing I can do about it. I take joy in talking to all who stop by my table. If they buy, great. If they want to chat, that's cool too. It's all good. And I get to spend my morning enjoying the smells, doing a little shopping of my own, and gabbing with folks. I just can't help wondering about those willfully blind people who weave through the crowds unseeing. Unaware. All I can do is encourage you, the reader, to go out to your community market, and look, see, smell, chat and enjoy. Whatever your stress is, enjoying what is around you is what will help relieve it.

You go, Madonna!

Ok, I told myself to just shut up, but I can’t help myself. *sigh* I’m probably going to get run over by this little band wagon, leaving deeply spiritual tread marks all over my very human bod. But I just can’t help it.

It was something Madonna said. It was a quote presented on Facebook: “I want to be like Gandhi and Martin Luther King and John Lennon but I want to STAY ALIVE.” Oy. Here come the harsh words from those who presume to judge her.

Well, I’m just not climbing on that wagon. For one thing, I can find a certain dark humour in what she said. (My gift apparently, though I am quite aware that some could just slap me for it.) For another, I just happen to think that judging someone harshly just because they’re rich and famous is every bit as lame as idol-worship. And for yet another, I don’t actually know the woman. I mean, I’ve never met her personally, talked with her, hung out with her. I only know about her what’s reported in the media ~ not exactly the paragon of accuracy. (And no, I don’t indulge in the gossip rags.) Even if I did know her, who died and made me God that I should judge her and her aspirations?

Heh. Madonna is just human, like the rest of us. I’m sure she’s trying. I’m sure she stumbles. I’m equally certain she sometimes triumphs and has her glory moments. I also think she aspires to some lofty heights with her choices, but what’s wrong with that? Should we not aspire to greatness? Are we to assume it’s out of our reach? Ok, it could be argued that wanting to stick around for the standing O is a little self-serving, but on the other hand, which of us is looking forward to being shot, crucified, burned at the stake, drawn and quartered or whatever? Talk about a need for attention, if posthumously. Yeah, yeah... glory in spirit. Well I’m not going to seek out my assassin, I can tell you, greatness or no.

Madonna is a celebrity. As such she lives much of her life under the intense scrutiny of the media, where a lot of what she says and does may be deemed “news” at the whim of a sometimes misguided world. Yep, it’s part of the price of fame, but I bet it still makes life and making those choices all the more difficult.

So I’m cutting her some slack. I admire the people she wants to be like, for whatever reason. What we have here is just life on Earth for however long we’re given it. We are human, for the moment anyway. How we die isn’t supposed to be our choice; but how we live is. And whatever wisdom you aspire to, the reality of life before Enlightenment is chop wood, carry water; after Enlightenment: chop wood, carry water.

Moreover, it’s only something Madonna said. As far as I know she didn’t carve it in a stone tablet and carry it down a mountain. Perspective. Tolerance. Humour. These are just some human qualities I admire. So, nope... maybe it’s an easy ride, but I’m not jumping on the judgement band wagon. You go, Madonna! Maybe one day you’ll get to be as admired as at least one of your heros, AND live to be very old. And in our world, you’ll likely get a standing O just for that. :)

Parenting ~ It Just Comes Naturally, Right?

It does, doesn't it? I mean, people have been popping out babies since the beginning of humanity. If they hadn't known how to care for their progeny, we wouldn't be here. Right?

Of course, there was a time when youngsters learned to parent at home, with the raising up of their siblings. Older kids, girls in particular, helped with the household chores, including the watching, changing, feeding of younger sibs. Boys also helped with the chores, but these were more likely outdoor, seasonal, farm chores, etc. Still, these taught them responsibility.

Well, times change ~ industrial revolution, child labour laws, schools... Do you remember baby dolls? I do. I even had one. The idea of the baby doll was to acquaint little girls with the care and raising of babies. In fact, most human play initiated by toys was, at one time, intended to teach to some degree. "No, no!" said Mom. "You don't drag a baby by its leg, bumping it's head along on the ground! Here's how you carry a baby." My baby doll could wet herself. Of course, after the first few times, Mom put a stop to that, what with all the wet spots all over the living room. The little baby bottle disappeared. The little diapers didn't work quite like real ones. {snicker}

Anyway, I digress. So yeah, way back, play was instructional. Ah, but since it was decided that children need to be in school from about the age of 4 onward, playtime isn't the same. Alas, we weren't allowed to play a whole lot in school. Oh kindergarten was fun. But it isn't as if we could play with dolls. There was serious scissor work to be done, and letters to learn, and stories... so many stories.

And of course, even the playtime available has evolved over the last half century. Baby dolls have given way to the Barbie with all its fashion and accessories. And hunting, fishing, fixing the tractor, car, or whatever, has given way to the video game. Boys are still playing war, but it isn't about physical stealth and target shooting, although they are learning some great hand~eye coordination. And then there's TV... tons of potential, and yet....

Hmmm... so what about these parenting skills? How are kids learning these? With both Mom and Dad working in our society, and with school work, TV and video games taking up so much of their lives, where are kids picking up these skills? Do they learn how to parent from Mom and Dad rushing them around to organized sports, music or dance lessons, cheerleading practice? Could something be missing?

Some schools are experimenting with parenting classes for teens these days, I hear. That's where the teacher sends a student home with a bag of flour to be cared for. This can have interesting results. Still, an effort is being made. Before writing this, I googled "parenting classes in schools" with limited results. So I'm wondering, shouldn't parenting skills just be part of what kids are learning in school? I mean from a young age too. Just as they take health, physical education and history, should they not be taught the basics of caring for another, little human being?

I just can't help wondering. Afterall, we need a licence to drive a car, or pilot a plane or boat. We need one to get married, or to hunt, fish, to sell real estate, or even to have a dog. And yet, no classes and no licence is required to procreate. Not that I'm advocating this. It's just that for something this important, and with issues such as bullying, anger management, social skills and more surfacing as areas of social concern, wouldn't the learning of parenting skills in school be a good thing? Anyway, I think so. Caring is still important. Isn't it?

Just wondering.

A nod to Crystal Jigsaw, whose blog post got me to thinkin'. The link to her blog is: http://crystaljigsaw.blogspot.com/

Why Don't We Stop Lying to Our Children?

Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely.

This is a quote from the words of John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton, first Baron Acton (1834–1902). The historian and moralist, who was otherwise known simply as Lord Acton, expressed this opinion in a letter to Bishop Mandell Creighton in 1887:
"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men."

He said a mouthful.

How often have we seen this proven in the pages of history? Answer: too often. What to do? A discussion broke out (I think an apt description of how discussions tend to start these days) over deposing corrupt leaders. Someone asked how we'd feel if someone from another country wanted to depose ours. Heh. Apples and oranges. You see, we can depose our own. It's called an ELECTION. People in countries like Libya don't have that handy opportunity. The problem here is that we don't necessarily recognize when there's a problem and we don't use our opportunity for change to our own benefit. We sit dumbly by while our trust is abused. We call 53% a "good" voting turnout. We are a rather apathetic society, to put it mildly. Ah, but, I digress.

Gaddafi took over Libya by military coup and has had absolute power over the Libyan people for over 40 years. He is corrupt, to say the least. He has been, to some degree, controlled by other powers by virtue of sanctions and threats over this time. But he has always had an ace up his sleeve: oil, the main commodity of Libya and something the rest of us want. And so, despite the disdain of many nations and world leaders, he has remained in power, at times teetering on the brink of pushing others too far. But this is a man who regularly slips in sh!t, then gets up smelling like roses, because better the devil you know, than the devil you don't.

Perhaps his most notorious slip was his connection to the terrorist bombing of an airliner over Lockerbie, Scotland in 1988. He escaped virtually unscathed from that by later denouncing terrorist activities. A few men were prosecuted; one was jailed, then released in 2009 on humanitarian grounds. The families of the victims? Well, tough luck, I guess.

While all this teetering and gesturing was going on, where was the UN? Now, don't get me wrong ~ this league of civilized nations has been a great forum to hear world concerns of all kinds from many concerned people over the years. And they have done great things for the children of the world. But the fact is, it is a gathering of responsible nations that lacks any muscle when it comes to dealing with political corruption and horrendous violations of human rights. It's great to speak to higher ideals, but rhetoric didn't stop the genocide in Rwanda, the horrors in Darfur, "ethnic cleansing" in Bosnia~Herzegovina, etc., etc. And the nations of the UN spent a lot of time hemming and hawing while Gaddafi murdered his own people.

I don't like war. I don't like violence. I don't like bullies. Do you?

Many of us in western countries try to teach our children that violence isn't justifiable. We discourage our kids from fighting in the school yard to resolve conflicts. And we are discouraged from using corporal punishment on our kids, the way our parents did. Violence, we are told, is not the way to solve problems. There is a big campaign on now to stop bullying, because it just isn't right.

And yet, our kids are bullied, and many of the ones who do survive the school yard no sooner get through puberty than they're decked out in spiffy uniforms and handed automatic weapons to go off to other countries to resolve political conflicts by violence, by killing, by getting killed. Huh? But wait....

Moreover, political bullying isn't at all frowned upon either, apparently. I mean, look at the leader of my country, Canada. His name is Stephen Harper and he routinely launches personal attacks on the opposition on national television. No, he's not just attacking policy and political platform, his ATTACKS are personal, against Ignatieff in particular ~ his personal history, his motives for entering Canadian politics, and more. This is not political campaigning, it's bullying! Harper is also a fear-monger, threatening Canadians with all sorts of supposedly dire political consequences if we don't vote for him. Are Canadians falling for these tactics? Heh... I don't see any uprising here. Canadians do have a means of deposing our bully: an election. But do Canadians care? It remains to be seen, but I have my doubts.

Gaddafi is killing his own people. In fact, he has pledged to kill anyone who continues to oppose him. (Yes, this is more extreme than Harper's tactics, but it's the same genre of sh!t. The only difference is that Harper does not have absolute power. Something I wouldn't trust him with for even a minute.) So finally the UN decides to step in. A bit late. I mean, by this time there is no diplomatic or economic means of influencing change in Libya.

It's war. It's violence. It's killing to stop killing.

So why don't we just stop lying to our children? Violence is the way we resolve conflict, and bullying is the way we influence people. It's really mean-spirited to lead our kids to believe some higher ideal is possible, when it plainly isn't. We are all just big liars ~ politicians, educators, parents... all of us. We should just let our children duke it out in the school yard to settle arguments. This will prepare them for the real world. We should just sit idly by while the meanest, toughest kids take over the school yard and all the other kids have to bow to their whims to get through the day.

Ideals are nice, but we don't have the stuff to make them real. Corruption, violence and bullying is the real world.

Eh? Did you say something? Really? Did you vote in the last election? You're bloody lucky if you have that recourse. Do you bother? Or do you just lie to your children?

A Gentle Tea Cleanse

OK, yet another dietary-related post. This one is about a cleansing tea that will help clean out that digestion system.... sort of a spring-cleaning for the bawd.

I always start with a green tea bag of some sort... Earl Grey, blueberry, ginger, or even decaf is fine. (Decaf is preferable if you're having it in the evening.)

Then I add at least a tsp. each of dandelion root and milk thistle seed (dandelion root cleanses the bile ducts/gall bladder; milk thistle restores the liver), then a few rosehips (vit C), some red clover blossoms (good ...for us girls), a slice of ginger root (digestion aid and lowers cholesterol), and top it off with dried cranberries or blueberries (mostly for flavour, but crans cleanse the urinary tract and blueberries are healthy a few ways). You can also add dried cherries if you have 'em. They help lower uric acid, an overabundance of which can cause gout. Dried cherries are just a little pricey, but sometimes you can get them on special, if you watch. Another nice flavour that aids in digestion is fennel seeds.

Put the tea bag, herbs, ginger and flavour enhancer of choice into a an old-fashioned teapot and add 3 cups boiling water. Allow to steep for 10 minutes. (If I'm needing an anti-inflammatory, I may even sprinkle in a bit of turmeric.) I will often have 2 cups hot, then let the rest cool. Later, or even the next day, I'll put ice cubes in a glass and finish tea cleanse as an iced tea.

This is a delicious (add honey if you like things sweetened), and excellent tea for when you're trying to cleanse your system gently. Enjoy. :)

Lasagna!

Ok, throwing in another one while we're in the baked pasta mood. Daughter has been wanting some lasagna, even though she can't have dairy, including cassein. Here's what I did:

1 bottle of Classico Roasted Garlic and Onion tomato sauce

Rizopia oven-ready brown rice lasagna noodles

1 lb. ground elk (locally raised and marketed)

1 pkg. Galaxy Foods vegan rice-based Italian flavour "cheese"

mushrooms and herbs to taste

I browned up the elk, then added most of the tomato sauce, some fresh thyme, and blended. I used the sauce I held back to layer the bottom of the baking dish. This helps the oven-ready pasta to soften. I laid the noodles on the sauce, then a layer of meat and sauce, then a layer of mushrooms and a layer of grated "cheese." Repeat. Bake, covered, for 45 mins in a pre-heated 350 degree oven.

Now, it's absolutely necessary that foods I make for my daughter are dairy (and cassein) free. She doesn't have to have gluten-free foods, but I'm trying to reduce her gluten intake so she doesn't get to a place where she develops a problem with it. I can't find anything in the Galaxy "cheese" that should have gluten in it, but the package does not say "Gluten-Free." Some day I'll try it and see what happens to me. ;o) There are gluten-free "cheeses" available tho, so with the rice noodles, this recipe can easily be gluten-free as well. (The Classico sauce is also not labelled gluten-free, but I consume it without ill-effect. There are also gluten-free sauces available in the health food section of many grocery stores.)

Ok, it's not at all traditional, but it's a yummy lasagna look-alike. Enjoy!

Gluten-free Ravioli

Ok then, sticking in another dietary blog post. I'd been putting this off for awhile, but the daughter asked me to make her homemade ravioli. I've been wanting to cut down on her gluten as well, so even though I'm content for the moment with my brown rice pasta, I decided to go gluten-free for hers.

She can have eggs, so I decided to make egg pasta using quinoa flour. 1 cup quinoa flour, 2 eggs and just a little water, then a bit more flour to work it in. I put it through my pasta maker, but I couldn't get it any thinner than the #5 setting, so you don't really need one. Just roll it out as thin as you can. I cut it with a tart cutter.

I filled each one, dampened the edges just with water, folded and sealed. I made the filling with sauted mushrooms, peppers, garlic, basil and a little already cooked natural beef. Make your filling of whatever you like!

Then I smothered the little raviolis in tomato sauce, again, your choice, and baked in a 350 oven for half an hour. The "cheese" on top is actually vegan cheese. I'm not actually positive it's gluten-free, but it's dairy-free ~ also an issue. But I'll have to check a new package to see if it has gluten. But again, sauce of choice!

My daughter had it for supper. Yes, she liked it. :)

Pickers!

A commentator on local radio reviewed this new television show, American Pickers. When I saw the advertisement for it, I smiled, because I got a bang out of the fact that they’ve actually created a show around those who recover treasures. I haven’t seen it, but I’m a fan of the concept. My husband and I used to be pickers.

For awhile we ran a little collectibles shop to try to change course during the 80s recession. We got a lot of our stock from auctions, lawn sales, and yes, from the large garbage that people put at the curb. In those days, when people wanted to get rid of something, they just put it at the curb for the magical garbage faeries to take away. There wasn’t a lot of concern that charities might be able to sell those clothing items or books, or that the old dresser might be a treasure disguised under layers of icky paint.

We not only found treasures that we could use, we re-directed some items to charity. We were careful what we chose to take them. Unfortunately, charities here are now being dumped on by people who apparently don't know what is re-usable and what is genuinely garbage. It’s like there’s a line there that some people can’t fathom. But these charities have to pay to discard the ratty furniture and broken junk, so we need to be discerning, and take them things that someone else might be able to use. And we need to discard the other things ourselves. If you have a box of soft-cover novels you don’t want anymore, someone might like those, and probably a local charity like a literacy council, thrift shop, or your local library, or even a used book store, would take those off your hands and recycle them to interested readers. Or those large jeans you’ve dieted your way out of. If they’re done, they’re garbage, but if they’ve still got wear in them, how about taking them to your local thrift shop? Or if they at least have good material left in them, perhaps a local quilting club would like to have them. Just sayin’. This keeps things out of landfill, and helps others... sort of a win/win thing.

But I digress. We really had fun picking through the stuff people placed at the curb during “big garbage” pickup. Hubby refinished several chests of drawers that turned out to be good hard wood underneath. We found chairs, lamps that just needed rewiring, window frames that made great mirrors, books, collectibles, intact carnival, cranberry, and depression glass items and more. Some people had a nasty “I don’t want it but you can’t have it” mentality that I don’t get. They’d break glass, cut screens, leave their discards piled in such a way that was plainly dangerous to touch, so we went around. Whatever. But most people didn’t care where the stuff went, as long as it went. So we kept good stuff from going to landfill and found new homes for it. Some of it needed work, but you know what they say, one man’s garbage is another man’s treasure! And it’s true.
One Mother’s Day we even took my mom garbage picking with us. She thought we were nuts at first, but she actually had a good time and got quite excited by some of our finds. There were a number of items that wound up on her shelves instead of in our store. While we were glad for her to have them, we didn’t take her picking with us too often. Hehe. We went a different direction after a while. We live in an economically depressed area and these days only scrap dealers can find treasure in those piles at the road. But we had fun for awhile there. If you have stuff you don’t want, don’t just send it to expensive landfill unless it really is garbage... and then do. But ask yourself if that item might be useful to someone else. No, don't get dollar signs in your eyes... no one makes a fortune on this stuff, except on television. If you have pickers in your neighbourhood and you don't want to drive around with that interesting stuff, make sure they can find the items you think are recyclable. Or, if you have charities in your community that raise funds with used goods, make sure suitable items get to them. That’s what community is about. Seriously.

Did He Say Mendelssohn?

No wait. He said meddlesome. Hey!!

Well really. I never! (Actually, I probably have.) I mean, I make the effort to keep my comments anecdotal so they aren’t seen as meddlesome. And I know I can be moody, like those dips into darkness, so I try not to impose those moments on others and just read sometimes. And really, couldn't any response to a published plea for attention be construed as meddlesome? Heh... I think so. But whatever. I dig it. I don’t like meddlesome people either. Like name-callers. So back atcha, fella! Feh.

But hey, I think it's in the nature of humans to meddle. There are meddlers in my life too. Here’s a list of my fave 5:

5) Hubby, who likes to turn on and tune in the TV to a program he likes before leaving the house, and I'm the only one at home. (Hmmmm. I can’t choose myself?)

4) Visitors who feel a need to tell me how to do things. Even really basic things, as if I wasn’t managing at all myself before they stumbled through my door.
(Hmmm... on this note, I wonder if youth really need advice, or just time, and life.)

3) Single, childless veterinarians who tell me I must meal-time my pets. Sheesh, I haven’t even successfully meal-timed my family. (But then, I don’t feel a compelling need to.)

2) Chiropractors who keep whacky hours and TELL me when I must appear for a lecture, wherein he TELLS me how much time I must spend each day doing his whacky exercises. (That’s right, I’m pushin’ 60 and I need some young twerp who calls himself a doctor telling me how I must live my life. Heh.)

1) People. Well.. hehe.. I guess I better qualify that since people are at the root of most annoyance on this planet. Lemme see, how about those who take EVERYTHING, including themselves, so very seriously. Lighten up people! We’re on the ride down. Might as well enjoy the wind in your hair. (With that in mind, most of the posts on this blog are written tongue-in-cheek. That means they should be read with a salt-shaker at hand.) ;o)

~~Thought for the day: If there is anyone on the planet who is perfect, I’ll bet they’re really impossible to live with. We all have flaws. Keep a perspective. ~~

But I digress. I notice when I want someone to meddle and solve some bothersome problem for me, they rarely do. No, I have to struggle with it. Although my daughter came through for me recently when I showed some confusion over terms of sexuality. She filled me in. Lemme see:

Heterosexual ~ people who are attracted to the opposite gender.
Homosexual ~ attracted to same gender.
Bisexual ~ attracted to both genders.
A-sexual ~ likes neither gender. Hmmm.
Trans-sexual ~ wants to be the other gender.
Pan-sexual ~ not really a sexuality, more of a philosophy that
it’s ok to love anyone, regardless of gender, race, cultural heritage and all that. (Now see, I thought a pan-sexual was just
somebody with an unhealthy love of pans.)
All-sexual ~ a bisexual hermaphrodite
(My daughter admits she invented this one.)
Auto-sexual ~ someone in love with their car.
Bi-curious ~ just wondering.

Do I have it straight? Oh... possibly an unfortunate choice of words. Ooops.

But I digress again. Back on the subject of meddling, there’s those people who are johnny-on-the-spot to answer rhetorical questions you only asked to provoke thought. In fact, not only do they answer, they do it right away. Of course. *sigh*

Of course, I don't really need the label. I mean, when you get a compliment, like "you're a beautiful being," it passes by before you can say "aw shucks." But something like "meddler," well, that could stick like the nickname "Stinky" at a junior high school. Oh well, I’m told I spend too much time online, and that’s probably true. Like many people these days, I have a bucket list. I’ve been enjoying crossing things off it and a lot of those things have been online activities. One thing I still haven’t gotten to though is re-acquainting myself with my musical instruments. Not an online activity, except for the guitar tuning site. Mendelssohn? Nope, probably more like the Eagles or John Denver. Sunshine on my shoulders. No kidding. And I'm going to put my hand to more original songs... call the first one, Sweet Release.

Dreams ~ Creative Sparks in the Night?

Do you ever have active or interesting dreams where you wake up suddenly in the middle of the night and remember something about the dream you were just having that seemed somehow inspirational? Of course, you go back to sleep and in the morning you can’t remember what it is you thought might save mankind. So you put a notebook and pencil on your bedside table, to record anything you might come up with in your sleep. I mean, it might be important, right? So naturally you don’t want to forget it next time it happens.

I woke up one night with this great idea for a writing project I was sure would win me some sort of important prize... Pulitzer, here I come. So I carefully wrote down a key word I thought would surely bring the whole wonderful thing back to me when I read it in the morning. Well, I got up and did my bathroom thing. Then I went back to the bedroom to get dressed, saw the notebook and vaguely remembered writing something in it. Eagerly I flipped the pages until I came to the one I’d written this no doubt pithy key word on. “Clouds,” it said. “Clouds?” I repeated out loud, perplexed. Wha...?? Now just what was “clouds” supposed to mean? Not to give up too easily, I went to the door and looked outside. The sky was blue and cloudless. Some help that was. I tried to imagine clouds in the sky, figuring I might somehow conjure the inspiring image that had been given to me in the night. I closed my eyes and really tried to come up with something... um... cloudy? Nope. Only thing that was cloudy was my brain. I made coffee.
Of course, I didn’t give up on the idea of capturing some inspiration right away. I stubbornly kept that notebook and pencil by my bed and I actually wrote things in it a few more times. But the results were pretty much the same, only instead of “clouds” it was something equally enlightening, like “waves” or “bare trees” or “tickertape joking.” (No kidding... apparently I wrote a prize-winning joke on tickertape in my sleep. I woke up actually laughing.) But all I’ve ever managed to come up with in the morning is the possibility that sometimes I have really fascinating dreams. Too bad I so seldom remember them.

Regroup, Review, Refresh, Re-Center

Sometimes I lose focus of the fact that it's ok to do things just for me. I mean, I work hard and take care of my responsibilities, so I should have time for self-amusement, right? I have also spent a lot of my life looking after others, so I don't really owe anyone anything. Heh. And yet I so often feel as if I have to be "helping" somebody. Not enough Karma in the bank?

I have to convince myself that it's ok if I do some stuff just for me. In fact, the world can get along very well without my attention, a fact that is both liberating and a little depressing for someone with the "help" gene. Ah, but balance in all things.

It is at this time of year that I tend to feel as if I'm swimming in oatmeal no matter what I do. I don't know why. The days are growing longer and there is the promise of Spring, if not yet any indication that it's actually out there somewhere. Delayed reaction to not enough light? SAD. I don't know. Could be. Or perhaps just the knowledge that promises can be broken and doodoo happens? Especially in this time of weather anomolies. Is spring something I can really count on? I guess I won't know for sure until the patches of snow are getting hard to find and that unmistakable odour of thawing dog poo assails my nostrils on an otherwise refreshing, warm Spring breeze. Only then will I know that Spring is truly at hand.

In the meantime, I'm a person who makes things and I think I should be doing some of that. I'm supposed to making jam right now. I have the fruit right here. I forgot to buy sugar. Again. *sigh* Can't make jam without sugar... at least, not this kind. This is the second time I've forgotten to buy sugar when I knew I'd be needing to make jam. Brain!! Why do you abandon me??!!

It seems to be preoccupied with pointless ponderings. My brain that is. Doesn't matter what I think anyway. Not really. So why don't I turn off the ponderings and try to remember why I left the house when I go shopping?

"Of what use is a philosopher who doesn't hurt anybody's feelings?" — Diogenes of Sinope

An internet friend put this on his status today. Of what use is a philosopher at all? Nevermind one that wounds. A chronic ponderer fares no better. So hey, time to regroup, review, refresh, re-center, re-everything, I think. May also be time to start a new blog. I mean, let's be realistic: a few thoughtful, depressing poems will take care of these dark feelings, right? And nobody reads poetry anymore either. The poetry book is over on that unused shelf next to the book of philosophy. So it's purely a carthartic exercise. Then I should move on... to SOMETHING I LIKE TO DO. No, I'm not threatening to blog the dark oatmeal pondering poems. Yes. I am thinking of starting a new blog on things I like to do. :) Stay tuned. ;o)

I did it. Yes I did. :) http://quillingartandmore.blogspot.com/

Let’s Talk Quality

It’s winter. It’s been snowing. The weather has been cold, mild, cold, thawed out, frozen over again, wet snow, dry snow, winter. The roads are a mess. By the time the plow/sanders come by the snow on the road is already packed down by traffic till it’s ice. This makes for treacherous driving. Of course, there was a time when putting snow tires on the car helped the wheels grip the road some better, but apparently those days are gone.
We have four snow tires on the car. Used to be four all season radials was good enough. Then putting snow tires on the front (front wheel drive) was an ample safety measure. Now there’s four snow tires on there .... and you wouldn’t know it. Geez, hit an icy patch on the right and the tire slides right off instead of going over it. But of course, when there’s an oncoming car, you have to move over and make room, because the sander has only sanded the middle of the road. (Remember when they did both sides?) Sure, everyone wants to drive on the sand, but when you’re passing an oncoming car, it’s move over or crash. One wheel on the sand has to do.

So I steer the car with the snow tires on up onto the icy track, and it slides off. That won’t do, so up onto the ice I steer again. It slides off, or tries to as I stubbornly wrestle the car back up onto the icy track, at least till the other car safely passes. But geez, up, slide, up, slide ~ the hood of the car is bobbing up and down like the bow of a boat in a three-foot swell. A person could get sea sick just driving to town.

Where did these snow tires come from? Where were they made? More to the point, what are they made with? Because I’m sure the same material used to make those treads is also used to coat the bottoms of toboggans to make them slip and slide better and faster.

Let’s face it, it isn’t just happening with tires. Does anybody else remember when our mechanics could turn the brake rotors at least once to make them last longer? No more. Score the thin rotors available now and they’re done. Sure, they’re cheaper, but what isn’t? Especially in the quality meaning of the word.

Crap. It’s all crap. Used to be it was odd to encounter a mistake with a product, now we can take for granted that something will be wrong. Cheap labour. Cheap production. Cheap product. Even if you try to find and pay for good quality, it just isn’t there. Just kind of isn’t worth buying stuff anymore. Oh well. I guess that’ll save money, won’t it? Problem is, what’ll I do when I need to replace something I really need, like these snow tires? Hmmm... maybe I could have a local craftsman carve me some out of wood. Won’t be any slipperier than the ones on there now, I’m sure.

The Ying and Yang of Computer Technology

Computers: very much a mixed blessing. I mean, I love the idea, because it allows me to research and reach out into the world to learn new things and talk to all kinds of people. The computer allowed me to find out what was wrong with me in a society where doctors are either unavailable or content to tell patients it’s all in their head. Gluten. Simple. Don’t eat it. Thank you computer!

My old computer wouldn’t do all these things for me. I mean, I guess computer years are a lot like dog years. It was over ten years old. Not just old, but decrepit. It wouldn’t do Facebook or Twitter, wouldn’t even stay online for very long. I’d be going along, looking for things, and the computer would just.... I dunno... burp? And I’d suddenly be offline. Like an old man... when the burps and farts start, and the waistline starts to creep toward the armpits, it can no longer do the things it used to.

So I went out and got one of these newfangled laptops. Heh. Ok, I learned to type on an old Olivetti-Underwood manual typewriter. The school didn’t ever have to worry about the business equipment disappearing because even the captain of the football team couldn’t run off with one of those things. The keyboard has evolved over the years till it’s marginally different from the one I learned to type about 75 wpm on. Not only is it terribly flat, there are all kinds of keys I just don’t understand. I’m typing away, as I am now, and suddenly I’ll apparently tag a key I didn’t mean to. A little box will appear asking me if I really want to leave the page. I don’t, and this should be my chance to reverse the boo-boo, right? But no. It doesn’t wait for me to cancel. It’s gone. I’ve had the whole browser close on me. I have no idea what button I hit to do this. There’s all kinds of extraneous little buttons and symbols on this thing. And they do strange things. It took me months to discover how to turn off the É thing and get the ? back. I used to have to turn the whole thing off and start fresh. Came across it by accident. In fact “accident” seems to define my relationship with this newfangled thang.

I have to use a mouse, even though this came with one of the those built-in little finger pad thingies. I can’t use it, any more than I can wear a watch. I have a some sort of bizarre electrical field around me that makes things like that go wonky. Even just passing my hands over it has Twitter dancin', down, then up, then ZING, all around ~ dosie doe! So the bottom right hand corner of my newfangled ‘puter is already worn in spots from the mouse. I guess I should count myself lucky there was a place to plug it in. I had to go to lengths to get this thing to do dial-up. Hey, it’s not my fault there’s no better hook-up here. Primitive describes my living conditions a few different ways.

So, I have no problem with the concept of smaller, better computers. I mean, innovation is great and more compact works for me. But what are cookies and why are there some in my computer? Aren’t the crumbs bad for it? Why do I have to delete or enable them? And how do I do that? And Twitter.... oh Twitter. I thought that was something only birds could do. But my daughter showed me how and it was fine until some techy type who didn’t have enough to do decided it needed to be improved. The new Twitter is not the better Twitter. It’s slow... ponderously slow. I have to switch back to old Twitter to hold a conversation. It doesn’t tell me who retweeted my tweet so I can thank them. (The old Twitter does.) I can’t even check out new followers on the new one. Won’t even load. Simplicity was the very beauty of old Twitter, but they’ve “improved” it. {sigh}

The idea of Twitter was already a bit of a love/hate thing. I mean, I get it. Let’s keep our comments brief and to the point. It’s a mental exercise in brevity for sure, especially for someone who comes from the age of “why use 20 words to express a thought when 40 will do just as well.” Some people are really good at expressing both hilarity and profundity in 140 characters or less. I admire them. I’m still a little intimidated by this limitation, but I’m getting there. But please, make the new Twitter more like the old Twitter. Or here's a thought... call it an interesting experiment and forget it? Pull....eeeeze!

So yeah, I always say it, there are pros and cons to everything. Ying and Yang.. and computers. And one frustrated ol’ lady at the controls who's wondering what the heck will be next. Beware.

Extremism is Bad - Empathy, Good

Yesterday I tweeted “extremism is bad,” along with the words, “take the middle road.” It’s pretty unusual for me to tweet sweeping generalizations, but I felt pretty safe here, because of course, I had extremism such as Al Qaida and other religious and political extremism in mind. And I was advocating that we try harder to understand and empathize with one another, rather than taking extreme views that tend to drive us apart and even breed resentment, hate and violence. But of course, who could know that?

First I got a tweet from a young musician saying that extremism is fun. Ok. In this age of extreme sports and wild living, I can see what she means. I was young once. I remember that. Then I got a tweet from a SAHM who is homeschooling an autistic child, who may have misunderstood my intent and the exchange, and who also thinks her life is pretty extreme. Ok. Being a sometimes working, sometimes SAHM (stay at home mom) to an aspie whom I homeschooled, I can certainly understand where she is coming from too. Been there; done that.

Hmmm.... ok, how about All Generalizations are Bad? (This, of course, is satire. Think about it.) So ok, this is where the empathy comes in. I don’t think the young musician needs to change her response, even if it seems insensitive to some, because she’ll get there. Life has a knack of taking care of that youthful exuberance and light-hearted way of seeing all things. I'm for letting her enjoy it while she's young. The mom? Well, I fully understand the intense pressure cooker she’s living in, so I’ll cut her some slack too. This is called empathy. Something many of us could all use more of.

When I was a young woman, I had my fun and adventure too. I hitchhiked much of the way across Canada to see some of my country. I wanted to see how the other half lived, but I wasn’t attracted by the world’s richness, such as the Taj Mahal, castles, cathedrals or even Graceland. No, to learn more about the half that interested me, I travelled north on the Muskeg Express, a very old train with oil lamps on the walls between the windows, which opened, and the tracks visible when you raised the toilet seat. I visited several Metis settlements to take pictures and learn something about life and people. And I did, all of this and then some. I was right there with the residents when that crate of fruit came in on the train. Oh, it wasn’t the fruit we were anxious for... it was those little paper wrappers on it. Everyone wanted a share of those for the outhouse. Soft. I spent an evening in a smoke filled log cabin with an old man who's only defense against the bugs was a smudge fire. I listened, I photographed, I laughed and I learned. I wanted a photo of the train coming into the station, and I wanted it straight on. So there I was on the track as it pulled in, trying to focus my camera, when I suddenly realized I had a wide angle lens on there, and the train was much closer than it appeared through the viewfinder.

So yeah, I had my own extreme fun and adventure when I was young. When I think about it, I realize I'm probably lucky to even be here. Later, I became a mom to a beautiful baby girl who was eventually diagnosed with some challenges, so I’ve had those impossible days of extreme stress as a homeschooling mom too. Yeah, I know life can sometimes be extremely challenging.

Still, the kind of extremism I was referring to that’s so bad, that’s the hate and violence in our world. Perhaps the human age is unfolding as it must, but sometimes I just wish more people would learn compassion and empathy. But as I like to say, what good is a light without a dark to shine it on? And the middle road I spoke of? I guess in this instance, that's what empathy is.