This holiday should be combined with Mother's Day.
The first Monday in September should be named Workers' Day.
Anyone without employment, and over the age of, say, eight, would be required to take over all household duties for the day: laundry, cooking, cleaning, ironing (if anyone does that anymore), pet care, bed making, nursing, shuttling, lawn work, refereeing, gardening, bill paying, car washing (and filling with gas) . A day spent in this way would encourage those who are loafing about watching TV and texting their friends and face booking their BFFs that eight hours of work almost anywhere beats 24 hours of labor inside a home.
And that's what I think about it.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
My Eclectic Book List
A few books I read this week:
We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families: stories from Rwanda by Philip Gourevitch
I'm Fine with God...It's Christians I Can't Stand: Getting Past the Religious Garbage in the Search for Spiritual Truth by Bruce Bickel and Stand Jantz
The Almond Picker by Simonetta Agnello Hornby (translated from the Italian)
Sea Glass by Anita Shreve
The Quiet River by P.M. Hubbard
Two Destinies One Fate by Mariah Williams, my 14-year old friend who has now completed perhaps two chapters of her fantasy novel and has set up the plot and characters very nicely. She names me on the dedication page as "the teacher I had for creative writing for so many years." It is a joy to see her talent blossom.
We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families: stories from Rwanda by Philip Gourevitch
I'm Fine with God...It's Christians I Can't Stand: Getting Past the Religious Garbage in the Search for Spiritual Truth by Bruce Bickel and Stand Jantz
The Almond Picker by Simonetta Agnello Hornby (translated from the Italian)
Sea Glass by Anita Shreve
The Quiet River by P.M. Hubbard
Two Destinies One Fate by Mariah Williams, my 14-year old friend who has now completed perhaps two chapters of her fantasy novel and has set up the plot and characters very nicely. She names me on the dedication page as "the teacher I had for creative writing for so many years." It is a joy to see her talent blossom.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Jealousy
It is a little green monster and I have been touched with a plague of it this week.
First, an innocuous chatty email from a dear friend mentioned that she and her husband had signed up for a trip to Egypt. In the same email she said that another friend of ours was planning to leave for Croatia to visit. If that didn't beat all, another dear friend who had been reading this blog got in touch with me to catch up and said she was meeting her husband (who is in the Middle East) in Munich for two weeks.
A friend's blog reported on her day-to-day day adventures in Afghanistan.
Another blog has an acquaintance leaving for Tanzania in a week.
And a close friend left last week to return to Haiti where she calls home.
Another blog reader spends a couple weeks every summer in the south of France.
And me? I am stuck in southern Indiana feeling very sorry for myself and jealous. Hey, I'm thinking, my passport is up to date. On the one hand I want to be happy for these folks who will see more of the world and have grand stories to tell. On the other hand...well, you know the other hand. Give me some time. Perhaps each will send a postcard or bring me a souvenir.
And that's what I think about it.
First, an innocuous chatty email from a dear friend mentioned that she and her husband had signed up for a trip to Egypt. In the same email she said that another friend of ours was planning to leave for Croatia to visit. If that didn't beat all, another dear friend who had been reading this blog got in touch with me to catch up and said she was meeting her husband (who is in the Middle East) in Munich for two weeks.
A friend's blog reported on her day-to-day day adventures in Afghanistan.
Another blog has an acquaintance leaving for Tanzania in a week.
And a close friend left last week to return to Haiti where she calls home.
Another blog reader spends a couple weeks every summer in the south of France.
And me? I am stuck in southern Indiana feeling very sorry for myself and jealous. Hey, I'm thinking, my passport is up to date. On the one hand I want to be happy for these folks who will see more of the world and have grand stories to tell. On the other hand...well, you know the other hand. Give me some time. Perhaps each will send a postcard or bring me a souvenir.
And that's what I think about it.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
GPS
It seemed like a nice birthday gift. I gave it to my husband early so he could play with his new Garman.
He selected the British English as the voice he would hear directing him to his destinations.
Unfortunately we were not going anywhere new and so my husband resorted to typing in the address of the church and on another day the address of our favorite breakfast place (see previous blog). Again unfortunately, we have several routes to both places and the Garman would often pipe up with 'recalculating' and direct us from whatever road we had turned on. One time, on a trip to the post office she kept repeating, "Make a U-turn as soon as legal." Jim shut her off.
The saddest thing about this gift was something I overheard my husband telling a friend, "I love this GPS. The voice is so polite. None of this, 'Why didn't you turn three miles back?' "
Ouch!
And yet all good things must come to an end and this morning when once again the Garman lady attempted to direct us a different way to a destination we knew like the back of our hand, Jim said, "There goes the British hag."
My daughter and I would like to propose that Garman create a 'wife' voice for their product. One where the wife can record, "You're way over the speed limit," "Whatever possessed you to take this route?," or "I would have told you if you'd have asked." But for now we'll stick to our polite, even-keeled British matron who is consistent and even-tempered, even in the face of cynicism and sarcasm and name-calling.
And that's what I think about it.
He selected the British English as the voice he would hear directing him to his destinations.
Unfortunately we were not going anywhere new and so my husband resorted to typing in the address of the church and on another day the address of our favorite breakfast place (see previous blog). Again unfortunately, we have several routes to both places and the Garman would often pipe up with 'recalculating' and direct us from whatever road we had turned on. One time, on a trip to the post office she kept repeating, "Make a U-turn as soon as legal." Jim shut her off.
The saddest thing about this gift was something I overheard my husband telling a friend, "I love this GPS. The voice is so polite. None of this, 'Why didn't you turn three miles back?' "
Ouch!
And yet all good things must come to an end and this morning when once again the Garman lady attempted to direct us a different way to a destination we knew like the back of our hand, Jim said, "There goes the British hag."
My daughter and I would like to propose that Garman create a 'wife' voice for their product. One where the wife can record, "You're way over the speed limit," "Whatever possessed you to take this route?," or "I would have told you if you'd have asked." But for now we'll stick to our polite, even-keeled British matron who is consistent and even-tempered, even in the face of cynicism and sarcasm and name-calling.
And that's what I think about it.
Monday, August 18, 2008
So many books, so little time
Last weekend the library hosted their annual book sale. Hardbacks a dollar; soft covers at .50! Books set out by the thousands on long tables up and down the middle of the mall. Overhead signs identified the type of book at those tables beneath: western, science fiction, biographies, mysteries, how-to books, religious books, every genre that the library offers on its shelves was on sale, including CDs, children's books, and movies.
We shopped both days of the sale. The first day was crowded with folks who did not fit my stereotype of the 'bookie.' Pushy and rude, they came pulling rolling carts and suitcases to put their choices in so they wouldn't have to carry books around from table to table. The fiction table was rung with a solid wall of shoppers. Breaking into the slowly moving circle was nearly impossible. Perhaps a place would open up when a cell phone rang, or a child ran up to hug a parent or when the person in line had looked at all sides of the table.
Yet even this was a problem because the volunteers continued to put out books. As soon as books were plucked off the table for sale volunteers stuffed new titles in their place so one could potentially go around and around to a never-ending supply of 'new' titles.
Perseverance paid off. I am typing this and looking at our dining room table. I am thinking Christmas morning. Stacked atop are 72 'new' books. That's a season's worth of reading and I am looking forward to the chillier Fall weather and the snows of winter.
That's what I'm thinking about.
We shopped both days of the sale. The first day was crowded with folks who did not fit my stereotype of the 'bookie.' Pushy and rude, they came pulling rolling carts and suitcases to put their choices in so they wouldn't have to carry books around from table to table. The fiction table was rung with a solid wall of shoppers. Breaking into the slowly moving circle was nearly impossible. Perhaps a place would open up when a cell phone rang, or a child ran up to hug a parent or when the person in line had looked at all sides of the table.
Yet even this was a problem because the volunteers continued to put out books. As soon as books were plucked off the table for sale volunteers stuffed new titles in their place so one could potentially go around and around to a never-ending supply of 'new' titles.
Perseverance paid off. I am typing this and looking at our dining room table. I am thinking Christmas morning. Stacked atop are 72 'new' books. That's a season's worth of reading and I am looking forward to the chillier Fall weather and the snows of winter.
That's what I'm thinking about.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Olympics
Every two years, alternating between winter and summer, I become more of a couch potato than usual. I can't get enough of the games.
Example, one morning I stayed up until 1 AM to watch the men's basketball game and set the phone alarm to wake me at 4 AM for women's soccer.
Jim printed out an 18-page TV guide to every channel every day showing every event.
Videos of travel sites in China take me back with fond memories of wandering around the Forbidden City, Tienanmen Square and scrambling along the Great Wall. OK, I didn't scramble exactly, perhaps sauntered around pretending I was watching for marauding hoards of Huns coming over the mountains. No one ever accused me of having a dull imagination.
But that was four years ago. China had been named host of the Olympics and they had already begun to move dozens of families out of areas where Olympic venues were to be built. China wanted to put their best foot forward and began cleaning up their space. They were determined to look good in the sight of the watching world.
The lengths they would go to do this was further revealed this afternoon when it was discovered that the darling little 9-year old singer during the opening ceremonies was really lip-syncing. The real voice was emanating from a very talented 9-year old with an unfortunate overbite. The Chinese did not want her to represent them and so picked a perfect little specimen of childhood with straight white teeth to put in the spotlight.
It hardly merits mention then since it is so obvious that countries and people are very similar in this aspect. People cover up flaws with make-up, clothes, false confidence, braggadocio (just love spell check) lip-syncing or bold lies, hoping that no one finds them out, finds out who or what they really are. Like countries we spend a lot of energy trying to hide who we are so people will think the best of us.
A lot of energy. A lot of wasted energy. And that's what I think about it.
Example, one morning I stayed up until 1 AM to watch the men's basketball game and set the phone alarm to wake me at 4 AM for women's soccer.
Jim printed out an 18-page TV guide to every channel every day showing every event.
Videos of travel sites in China take me back with fond memories of wandering around the Forbidden City, Tienanmen Square and scrambling along the Great Wall. OK, I didn't scramble exactly, perhaps sauntered around pretending I was watching for marauding hoards of Huns coming over the mountains. No one ever accused me of having a dull imagination.
But that was four years ago. China had been named host of the Olympics and they had already begun to move dozens of families out of areas where Olympic venues were to be built. China wanted to put their best foot forward and began cleaning up their space. They were determined to look good in the sight of the watching world.
The lengths they would go to do this was further revealed this afternoon when it was discovered that the darling little 9-year old singer during the opening ceremonies was really lip-syncing. The real voice was emanating from a very talented 9-year old with an unfortunate overbite. The Chinese did not want her to represent them and so picked a perfect little specimen of childhood with straight white teeth to put in the spotlight.
It hardly merits mention then since it is so obvious that countries and people are very similar in this aspect. People cover up flaws with make-up, clothes, false confidence, braggadocio (just love spell check) lip-syncing or bold lies, hoping that no one finds them out, finds out who or what they really are. Like countries we spend a lot of energy trying to hide who we are so people will think the best of us.
A lot of energy. A lot of wasted energy. And that's what I think about it.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Haiti
Some have asked about the photo at the top of this page. I took it a couple years ago standing on the Northwest shore of Haiti, outside Sonlight Academy. So serene and peaceful, it belies the anxiety and fear that pervades the lives of people in this poorest country in the western hemisphere.
But Haiti has a ray of hope.
Many of the Sonlight graduates come to the United States for college. Most desire to return to Haiti to bring a new measure of optimism to the people there in the form of teaching, medicine, politics.
Some embrace the higher promise of Sonlight Academy, the hope of eternal life. That is the parallel education that students receive as they learn English, literature, history and math. By the time a student graduates from Sonlight they are tri-lingual, knowing Creole, French and English.
As I stuggle along with my English they put me to shame.
That's what I'm thinking about today.
But Haiti has a ray of hope.
Many of the Sonlight graduates come to the United States for college. Most desire to return to Haiti to bring a new measure of optimism to the people there in the form of teaching, medicine, politics.
Some embrace the higher promise of Sonlight Academy, the hope of eternal life. That is the parallel education that students receive as they learn English, literature, history and math. By the time a student graduates from Sonlight they are tri-lingual, knowing Creole, French and English.
As I stuggle along with my English they put me to shame.
That's what I'm thinking about today.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
The Measure of Success
John Foster Dulles said, "The measure of success is not whether you have a tough problem to deal with, but whether it is the same problem you had last year."
Let's see. Last August I was going through the hassle of applying for graduate school. Not a problem this August.
Last August I was agonizing over taking an over-seas trip. Not a problem this August.
Last August I was trying to get in shape.....wait, wait, now I'm meddling.
The message is, if it's a problem it needs to be addressed. Make a decision. Find a good friend to run some options by. Say yes and jump in or say no with confidence. Although I have heard of some problems just simply going away on their own, many just stick around festering and taking up room in the back of our minds. Those are the ones that wake us up at 3 AM or create tight shoulders or headaches. They pop up unbidden at odd times.
Mostly these concerns take up valuable energy and let's face it, we have a finite amount of that and less as we age.
Anyway, that's what I think about it.
Let's see. Last August I was going through the hassle of applying for graduate school. Not a problem this August.
Last August I was agonizing over taking an over-seas trip. Not a problem this August.
Last August I was trying to get in shape.....wait, wait, now I'm meddling.
The message is, if it's a problem it needs to be addressed. Make a decision. Find a good friend to run some options by. Say yes and jump in or say no with confidence. Although I have heard of some problems just simply going away on their own, many just stick around festering and taking up room in the back of our minds. Those are the ones that wake us up at 3 AM or create tight shoulders or headaches. They pop up unbidden at odd times.
Mostly these concerns take up valuable energy and let's face it, we have a finite amount of that and less as we age.
Anyway, that's what I think about it.
Monday, August 4, 2008
"Snakes! Snakes!"
"Snakes! Snakes!"
As I turned to look everyone began running toward the yelling. Toward!
My first thought, and it was one of pure terror, was to sprint quickly in the other direction.
Let me back up a bit. We found ourselves on an ecological tour to Borneo, my husband and I. Our little lodge was built up from the ground about four feet. Clever, I thought. What a good way to capture what little breeze there might be in this steamy sauna climate and have it circulate around the rooms. Elevated walkways ran from room to room to dining area. Nestled at the bottom of thick jungle walls, the staff fought a relentless battle to keep the jungle from encroaching upon this little piece of civilization.
At the first sound of "Snake! Snake!" Jim pivoted, heading toward the sound. Not wanting to be left behind I quickly followed.
Guests were lined up against the railing of the walkway pointing out into the grassy area over which the lodge had been constructed.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear?
Cobras!
Slithering back up into the jungle for the night. The lodge had been build over a daily migration path used by cobras! Twice daily cobras appeared out of the jungle and then in the evening disappeared back into the jungle.
I slept with my boots on from that night forward.
And that's what I'm thinking about.
As I turned to look everyone began running toward the yelling. Toward!
My first thought, and it was one of pure terror, was to sprint quickly in the other direction.
Let me back up a bit. We found ourselves on an ecological tour to Borneo, my husband and I. Our little lodge was built up from the ground about four feet. Clever, I thought. What a good way to capture what little breeze there might be in this steamy sauna climate and have it circulate around the rooms. Elevated walkways ran from room to room to dining area. Nestled at the bottom of thick jungle walls, the staff fought a relentless battle to keep the jungle from encroaching upon this little piece of civilization.
At the first sound of "Snake! Snake!" Jim pivoted, heading toward the sound. Not wanting to be left behind I quickly followed.
Guests were lined up against the railing of the walkway pointing out into the grassy area over which the lodge had been constructed.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear?
Cobras!
Slithering back up into the jungle for the night. The lodge had been build over a daily migration path used by cobras! Twice daily cobras appeared out of the jungle and then in the evening disappeared back into the jungle.
I slept with my boots on from that night forward.
And that's what I'm thinking about.
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