I guess it's not classic insomnia. I did get some sleep, just less than usual. My brain seemed to kick into high gear around 4ish this morning and just wouldn't shut up. So I decided to try something different today. I got up.
The dog isn't completely sure what's going on, but she's decided to join me wherever I happen to land. At the moment she's on the couch dealing with an itch she didn't have a few moments ago. There's some critter outside making a kind of whirring shound, sounding almost like some fairly rapid snorer enjoying a good night's sleep, with an occasional pause just to make things interesting. The only other noises, besides the thoughts rumbling around in my head, are my fingers tapping on the keyboard, the intermittent car sounds, and the idling of a train about a mile or so away.
I'm really not a morning person; although, I do occasionally enjoy watching a sunrise, especially if I'm away from home. That's not the case this morning.
There's a really cool word that I first read in one of my favorite science fiction books that describes the light at this time of day: crepuscular. It actually describes that kinda gray sorta light which happens at dawn and dusk, where things are just becoming visible out of the darkness or are just fading into the night. The author used it in conjunction with filming an historical vampire movie at that time of day just before the sun rose while things are eerily foggy and mysterious.
Crepuscular. Good word for this morning, especially since I'm sitting here feeling a bit gloomy and hoping that the predicted rain decides not to transpire. I really need the wood around my new sliding glass door to dry out so I can paint it. I've been trying to paint it ever since a week ago Monday, but the days I've been in town have also been rain days. *sigh* I'm not painting wet wood! But it's just so frustrating, and a bit depressing, that I've not been able to get that done.
I think I'm going to just sit and listen to the critters a bit longer. There's a bird who's decided to add a chirp to the morning's chorus, and a mourning dove or two who've joined the melody. Maybe the dog snoring on the floor might entice my eyelids back to sleep. I've an hour or two before I have to be anywhere or do anything. *yawn* G'night.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The Winner and Champeen ...
They certainly don't make them like they used to.
Today the plumber came to the house to move the drain from its current location to the place it needs to be for the marble installation to proceed. To pull this feat off, it was necessary to cut through the old pipe and install a new section of pipe from the drain's new location to the old underground drainage system. Easy, you'd think, right?
Not if the original pipe is cast iron!
It ultimately took two strong men and four diamond saw blades to successfully cut through the pipe to remove the section!
Winner and Champeen? The men, but only by referee's decision. *chuckle*
It's good to know the underpinnings of the house are sturdily built. A major blessing when things are working right, bit of a curse if there's a problem.
Next up - concrete in the shower! I suspect this bout will be just a bit easier.
Today the plumber came to the house to move the drain from its current location to the place it needs to be for the marble installation to proceed. To pull this feat off, it was necessary to cut through the old pipe and install a new section of pipe from the drain's new location to the old underground drainage system. Easy, you'd think, right?
Not if the original pipe is cast iron!
It ultimately took two strong men and four diamond saw blades to successfully cut through the pipe to remove the section!
Winner and Champeen? The men, but only by referee's decision. *chuckle*
It's good to know the underpinnings of the house are sturdily built. A major blessing when things are working right, bit of a curse if there's a problem.
Next up - concrete in the shower! I suspect this bout will be just a bit easier.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Probably Christmas?
Please forgive me if the blog becomes a reconstruction rant for the next few weeks. Getting back into my house truly isn't the only thing on my mind, but it's certainly at the top of the list at the moment. And an especially frustrating item on the list at that.
When last we met, I was looking at about a two week delay to get someone to repair the rotted wood in my now dismantled shower. Thanks to my blessed handyman church member that problem has been rectified. He did an awesome job in fixing up the nasty looking studs and that shower ain't a-gonna be moving anywhere any time in the near or distant future! I couldn't have asked for a better resolution to that difficulty.
But then .....
The plumber's jackhammer guy came to the house and pounded the crap out of the concrete in the shower. After much chipping away, it was discovered that there's something weird about the way the original builder installed the shower foundation. The jackhammer guy consulted one of the owners. The owner stood there and scratched his head while trying to figure out how the heck to do the necessary plumbing so the marble can be installed. Totally perplexed, he left, still scratching his head. The jackhammer guy packed up his gear and headed off for the day.
Fortunately, the plumber did come up with a possible solution. Which meant the jackhammer guy had to come back the next day and pound some more crap out of the concrete. I may now have a permanent headache. *chuckle* Today, the plumber's supposed to come back to the house to do the plumbing work and then re-concrete the shower floor. He's not called yet, so I don't know when he's coming.
Ok - that was the good stuff. At least there will be some progress soon on the shower.
Then today started. I get a call about 7:30am telling me there'd been a cancellation on the schedule and the door installer would be able to come and install my doors today! Woohoo! Get the doors in and the shower fixed and the carpet/vinyl could go in only slightly off-schedule. Right? (wait for it)
WRONG!!
Turns out the guy who measured the doors and did the estimate on the installation mismeasured the front door. Two weeks to get the door reordered and back in. Then the installation has to be rescheduled. *sigh* Perhaps I'll be able to live in my house by Christmas.
The sliding glass door was installed, though. So that was a positive. But the weirdnesses associated with this house never seem to end. When the installer began the replacement, he discovered that the brick threshhold was an add-on which ended up serving the purpose of providing a most excellent source of unwanted moisture to the wooden portion of the threshhold, thus nicely rotting out the door's support. He chipped and levered the bricks out of their track, and now I have a 6-8" by 6-foot by 4-5" trough to be filled with concrete to level things up with the patio.
Maybe if the plumbing concrete guy comes by while the weather's still good, he might be willing to add my interesting trough to the indoor task. *pleads pitifully*
I am beginning to wonder why delays of 2-3 weeks keep popping into the picture. So, I'm going to get a window company that's been advertising in the paper to give me an estimate on replacing the rest of my windows. If it's not an unreasonable price and the timing of installation is right, I may go ahead and do that before getting the carpet and vinyl installed. Maybe in the interest of energy efficiency, and eliminating as many weirdnesses as possible while the house is still a torn-up mess, I ought to go ahead and finish things off. If it's not going to delay things by more than they are already delayed, then ... well, it's something to think about (and quickly!)
Here's hoping to something earlier than Christmas!
When last we met, I was looking at about a two week delay to get someone to repair the rotted wood in my now dismantled shower. Thanks to my blessed handyman church member that problem has been rectified. He did an awesome job in fixing up the nasty looking studs and that shower ain't a-gonna be moving anywhere any time in the near or distant future! I couldn't have asked for a better resolution to that difficulty.
But then .....
The plumber's jackhammer guy came to the house and pounded the crap out of the concrete in the shower. After much chipping away, it was discovered that there's something weird about the way the original builder installed the shower foundation. The jackhammer guy consulted one of the owners. The owner stood there and scratched his head while trying to figure out how the heck to do the necessary plumbing so the marble can be installed. Totally perplexed, he left, still scratching his head. The jackhammer guy packed up his gear and headed off for the day.
Fortunately, the plumber did come up with a possible solution. Which meant the jackhammer guy had to come back the next day and pound some more crap out of the concrete. I may now have a permanent headache. *chuckle* Today, the plumber's supposed to come back to the house to do the plumbing work and then re-concrete the shower floor. He's not called yet, so I don't know when he's coming.
Ok - that was the good stuff. At least there will be some progress soon on the shower.
Then today started. I get a call about 7:30am telling me there'd been a cancellation on the schedule and the door installer would be able to come and install my doors today! Woohoo! Get the doors in and the shower fixed and the carpet/vinyl could go in only slightly off-schedule. Right? (wait for it)
WRONG!!
Turns out the guy who measured the doors and did the estimate on the installation mismeasured the front door. Two weeks to get the door reordered and back in. Then the installation has to be rescheduled. *sigh* Perhaps I'll be able to live in my house by Christmas.
The sliding glass door was installed, though. So that was a positive. But the weirdnesses associated with this house never seem to end. When the installer began the replacement, he discovered that the brick threshhold was an add-on which ended up serving the purpose of providing a most excellent source of unwanted moisture to the wooden portion of the threshhold, thus nicely rotting out the door's support. He chipped and levered the bricks out of their track, and now I have a 6-8" by 6-foot by 4-5" trough to be filled with concrete to level things up with the patio.
Maybe if the plumbing concrete guy comes by while the weather's still good, he might be willing to add my interesting trough to the indoor task. *pleads pitifully*
I am beginning to wonder why delays of 2-3 weeks keep popping into the picture. So, I'm going to get a window company that's been advertising in the paper to give me an estimate on replacing the rest of my windows. If it's not an unreasonable price and the timing of installation is right, I may go ahead and do that before getting the carpet and vinyl installed. Maybe in the interest of energy efficiency, and eliminating as many weirdnesses as possible while the house is still a torn-up mess, I ought to go ahead and finish things off. If it's not going to delay things by more than they are already delayed, then ... well, it's something to think about (and quickly!)
Here's hoping to something earlier than Christmas!
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
I Oughta Know Better By Now
You'd think I'd learn. I do it to myself every time. At least I'm consistent.
Here I was getting all excited about work being scheduled for Her Horribleness repairs. This week, the cultured marble people were to tear out the yucky tile. They did. One task down. Then today the plumber was supposed to come over and replace the shower pan and redo the plumbing fixtures in the shower and in my bathtub. He did. However, he wasn't able to finish everything.
For one thing, apparently the drain has to be moved and, of course, it's set in concrete. Literally! That means a jackhammer person has to come by and smash out the old stuff. Since we didn't know about that until today, there wasn't anyone with a jackhammer available today to come and do the work. *sigh* Perhaps tomorrow.
Unfortunately, there's another problem that's even worse. When the marble people did their thing, they discovered that the wood framing in the shower was seriously rotted. ACK! Now I have to replace the wood before the plumber and the marble people can finish their jobs. This additional task is going to take a contractor. Guess who doesn't have a contractor readily available. ... You've got it!
So I tapped my congregational handyperson, and his contacts say "about two weeks" before someone's available. Two Weeks!! ARGH!! And that's just before the shower stuff can be completed.
Then I have to get the linoleum and carpet put in. I'd had it scheduled for next week. Now it's been postponed.
Here I was hoping that the flooring could be installed next week, the touchup painting and trim/baseboards/etc. finished Memorial Day weekend, and light fixtures, curtains, ceiling fan, and the like put back together and cleaned up shortly thereafter, with a move-back-in date by no later than my birthday in June. *double sigh*
Now it's maybe by July 4th? Labor Day? Thanksgiving? Christmas? OK - I'll do my best to not get totally pessimistic. *whine* I just want to sleep in my own bed. */whine*
Here I was getting all excited about work being scheduled for Her Horribleness repairs. This week, the cultured marble people were to tear out the yucky tile. They did. One task down. Then today the plumber was supposed to come over and replace the shower pan and redo the plumbing fixtures in the shower and in my bathtub. He did. However, he wasn't able to finish everything.
For one thing, apparently the drain has to be moved and, of course, it's set in concrete. Literally! That means a jackhammer person has to come by and smash out the old stuff. Since we didn't know about that until today, there wasn't anyone with a jackhammer available today to come and do the work. *sigh* Perhaps tomorrow.
Unfortunately, there's another problem that's even worse. When the marble people did their thing, they discovered that the wood framing in the shower was seriously rotted. ACK! Now I have to replace the wood before the plumber and the marble people can finish their jobs. This additional task is going to take a contractor. Guess who doesn't have a contractor readily available. ... You've got it!
So I tapped my congregational handyperson, and his contacts say "about two weeks" before someone's available. Two Weeks!! ARGH!! And that's just before the shower stuff can be completed.
Then I have to get the linoleum and carpet put in. I'd had it scheduled for next week. Now it's been postponed.
Here I was hoping that the flooring could be installed next week, the touchup painting and trim/baseboards/etc. finished Memorial Day weekend, and light fixtures, curtains, ceiling fan, and the like put back together and cleaned up shortly thereafter, with a move-back-in date by no later than my birthday in June. *double sigh*
Now it's maybe by July 4th? Labor Day? Thanksgiving? Christmas? OK - I'll do my best to not get totally pessimistic. *whine* I just want to sleep in my own bed. */whine*
Monday, May 14, 2007
Pomp ... and Circumstance
It's 100% official! The boy ..... oops! Ahem! The Man has attained his initial goal - a college diploma. This past Saturday he put on cap, gown, and tassel; waited in line and through the formalities; handed the card with his name on it to the Dean, and walked across the stage to shake the college president's hand and get the empty diploma cover signifying completion of his degree requirements (the actual diploma had arrived in January); then returned to his seat for the completion of the graduation rite. Pictures were taken (although not of his 'non-traditional' footwear) and we were through. I'm so proud of him!
Graduation had its quirks. Since the school only does one graduation ceremony each year, there were many people and not enough seats. People came early and saved not just a few seats, but rows for those who weren't there yet (and, for the most part, didn't arrive until just as the graduation began). Then as soon as their graduate made it across the stage, they rose 'en masse' and left! I probably wouldn't have been quite so upset by this, except that they did it when my son was getting ready to cross the stage and I now have a picture of heads and backs instead of my son. I'm hoping the school photographer's picture comes out ok.
I guess it's traditional for the commencement address to consist of every graduation cliche in the book. It did. It's also traditional for names to be mangled. They were, just not the students' names, and there were some doozies. *chuckle* In the grand scheme of things, I'm glad my son was scheduled for the morning graduation instead of the afternoon one. Standing room only doesn't begin to describe the afternoon crowd.
We followed up the ceremony with the family's traditional meal of the graduate's choice, then he left to spend some time with friends and to get some much needed sleep (if possible). And now he's headed off to California to start work on Wednesday. Good job, my son! I'm sure you'll end up accomplishing whatever you put your heart to. Godspeed, my son!
Graduation had its quirks. Since the school only does one graduation ceremony each year, there were many people and not enough seats. People came early and saved not just a few seats, but rows for those who weren't there yet (and, for the most part, didn't arrive until just as the graduation began). Then as soon as their graduate made it across the stage, they rose 'en masse' and left! I probably wouldn't have been quite so upset by this, except that they did it when my son was getting ready to cross the stage and I now have a picture of heads and backs instead of my son. I'm hoping the school photographer's picture comes out ok.
I guess it's traditional for the commencement address to consist of every graduation cliche in the book. It did. It's also traditional for names to be mangled. They were, just not the students' names, and there were some doozies. *chuckle* In the grand scheme of things, I'm glad my son was scheduled for the morning graduation instead of the afternoon one. Standing room only doesn't begin to describe the afternoon crowd.
We followed up the ceremony with the family's traditional meal of the graduate's choice, then he left to spend some time with friends and to get some much needed sleep (if possible). And now he's headed off to California to start work on Wednesday. Good job, my son! I'm sure you'll end up accomplishing whatever you put your heart to. Godspeed, my son!
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Ay Yi Yi Yi
*sung* I miss San Ju-an!
The return home (for at least a few days) was accomplished yesterday, and I'm already wishing I were back. Friendly people. Beautiful surroundings. Gasoline for about $2.25/gallon (once converted from metric). I was even beginning to remember a bit more Spanish, though I was nowhere close to keeping up with conversations, much less thinking in it.
There's a brightness to the area which doesn't exist here. Okay, since Her Horribleness blew through, there are one or two houses around here that have, shall we say?, unique paint colors on them, but the vast majority of us have wandered back into the realm of "studied bland". While I refused to return to the same neutral beige, I couldn't quite bring myself to go over the edge into something truly different like aqua or lavender or brilliant yellow. Wouldn't have been able to get away with that in San Juan! Lime green! Hot pink! Blazing orange! Purple! (hmmmm.... couldn't have used that as a color suggestion during the kitchen remodeling at church if I'd lived in San Juan.) The brighter, the better. Of course, there were places painted white and grayed with age, but the area as a whole was vibrant with color!
Here's a pic of the Presbyterian Church located near the Governor's Mansion:
Their folkloric dance is bright and creative, as you might guess. On Thursday, a group of us went to watch a free performance of their more contemporary dance history, which included salsa and the mamba. On Saturday, we went back for a taste of their older dances, which are blended with the Spanish influence and that of Africa. Wonderful! And the music and musicians were a delight!
The return home (for at least a few days) was accomplished yesterday, and I'm already wishing I were back. Friendly people. Beautiful surroundings. Gasoline for about $2.25/gallon (once converted from metric). I was even beginning to remember a bit more Spanish, though I was nowhere close to keeping up with conversations, much less thinking in it.
There's a brightness to the area which doesn't exist here. Okay, since Her Horribleness blew through, there are one or two houses around here that have, shall we say?, unique paint colors on them, but the vast majority of us have wandered back into the realm of "studied bland". While I refused to return to the same neutral beige, I couldn't quite bring myself to go over the edge into something truly different like aqua or lavender or brilliant yellow. Wouldn't have been able to get away with that in San Juan! Lime green! Hot pink! Blazing orange! Purple! (hmmmm.... couldn't have used that as a color suggestion during the kitchen remodeling at church if I'd lived in San Juan.) The brighter, the better. Of course, there were places painted white and grayed with age, but the area as a whole was vibrant with color!
Here's a pic of the Presbyterian Church located near the Governor's Mansion:
El Morro
Their folkloric dance is bright and creative, as you might guess. On Thursday, a group of us went to watch a free performance of their more contemporary dance history, which included salsa and the mamba. On Saturday, we went back for a taste of their older dances, which are blended with the Spanish influence and that of Africa. Wonderful! And the music and musicians were a delight!
Do you like plantains? It's a central part of the diet and is available in some form at almost every meal. While mofongo is pretty bland (to my taste), I really liked the sweet plantains a lot! I often get accused of not being particularly adventurous in my eating, and it's sorta true. So I wandered onto the wild side, for me, and tried something different at each meal. I will have to admit, though, that I couldn't bring myself to eat cabrito.
And, while I'm not particularly into alcoholic beverages, it was impossible to not visit the Bacardi Rum facility. An interesting experience. Next time you're in San Juan, take the tour. It's free, and you get two tickets to taste some of the various rum drinks. I tried the mojito ... not my cup of rum. And sipped a bit of peach rum. Better, but I have a feeling it's an acquired taste. *shiver* And, of course, you must see the drunken palm tree! (Well, not really, but I thought it was appropriate. *chuckle*)
Casa Bacardi
One visit we made was to a local worship service at the church our committee member attends. It was in Spanish, but we had an interpreter. I didn't quite get all of it, but managed to understand bits of it, even in Spanish. The pastor invited one of my compatriots to give a welcome on behalf of the committee and then asked me (!!!!!) to give the benediction. I very wisely did not attempt anything in Spanish, even though they had a benediction printed in their bulletin. One of the fascinating things to me was the building: the doors had no glass in them! Summer, winter, spring, fall - it's open to the elements. The eaves are apparently wide enough to keep those nasty horizontal rains from getting in, but still ...
All in all, in spite of having to take a break for our meeting, it was a very good trip. I can't wait to go back! And next time, I'll be sure to make plans for seeing the Camuy Caverns, the Arecibo Observatory, the Rain Forest, .... maybe next time, I'll plan to stay a bit longer. Adios!
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Dateline: San Juan
After hectically wrapping up a myriad of details, and a short nasty bout with the 24-hour virus that's been running around, I made it out of town and took the "scenic route" to the hotel where I stayed last night so I could get up before God to get to Intercontinental Airport. After a miserable night because someone nearby left their poor pooch to bark his/her head off all night, I made it to the airport without getting lost. Quite a feat for the directionally challenged! While I ordinarily hate Intercontinental, this morning's excursion managed to go without a hitch. Shoot! Even my connecting flight was nearby and on time!
The flight into San Juan was beautiful! I wish I'd remembered I had my camera in my purse. The view from the air was awesome! Green lush hills (mountains? It's hard to tell from that high up.). The water varying shades of blue. Incredible white beaches. I think I'm in love!
So what did I do first? Ate lunch, then crashed! About the time I got to the hotel, it began raining ... and rained ... and rained. Not a problem! Flying normally wipes me out, and it's worse when I don't sleep well the night before. A nice long nap did the trick, and I believe I'm ready for some sightseeing tomorrow. There are several places I'd like to go, but am not sure where I'll head first. I love caves and there are apparently some wonderful ones a day-trip's ride away, but don't know whether I'll be able to pull that one off. Maybe Sunday.
I'll have to admit it's an interesting experience being someplace where Spanish is the primary language. I know a little bit from all those years of Spanish in intermediate and high school and college. The problem is that each year we started at the beginning, so I know the alphabet real well. *chuckle* Helps immensely! Clicked onto Blogger and what did I find? It automatically translated the whole thing into Spanish. ACK! Panic! .... Saw a link on the front page that said "en ingles" and remembered that much Spanish and clicked ... Found another link, in English, about translating into various languages. WHEW! Glad I didn't have to manage in Spanish for this. Wouldn't have made it past the first sentence!
Can't wait to see what tomorrow has in store!
The flight into San Juan was beautiful! I wish I'd remembered I had my camera in my purse. The view from the air was awesome! Green lush hills (mountains? It's hard to tell from that high up.). The water varying shades of blue. Incredible white beaches. I think I'm in love!
So what did I do first? Ate lunch, then crashed! About the time I got to the hotel, it began raining ... and rained ... and rained. Not a problem! Flying normally wipes me out, and it's worse when I don't sleep well the night before. A nice long nap did the trick, and I believe I'm ready for some sightseeing tomorrow. There are several places I'd like to go, but am not sure where I'll head first. I love caves and there are apparently some wonderful ones a day-trip's ride away, but don't know whether I'll be able to pull that one off. Maybe Sunday.
I'll have to admit it's an interesting experience being someplace where Spanish is the primary language. I know a little bit from all those years of Spanish in intermediate and high school and college. The problem is that each year we started at the beginning, so I know the alphabet real well. *chuckle* Helps immensely! Clicked onto Blogger and what did I find? It automatically translated the whole thing into Spanish. ACK! Panic! .... Saw a link on the front page that said "en ingles" and remembered that much Spanish and clicked ... Found another link, in English, about translating into various languages. WHEW! Glad I didn't have to manage in Spanish for this. Wouldn't have made it past the first sentence!
Can't wait to see what tomorrow has in store!
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Perception
Last night, while at a function for area Presbyterian women, I overheard a portion of a conversation which struck me kinda odd. One woman was talking about spending time at a second home they owned out in west Texas. In the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she was so glad to be back in Beaumont because things were so green and lush around here and so dry and brown out there. It wasn't that long ago that everyone in the Golden Triangle area was devastated because of how bare things looked after the hurricane.
Isn't it amazing how quickly our perceptions can change?
Isn't it amazing how quickly our perceptions can change?
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Comment on a Comment
A friend of mine left this comment on another site:
I don't think our world will ever know peace in our lifetime. It's sad but true. We've taken away so may values that are needed for peace that my generation the one that's causing all the violence may never stop. We need to go back to the little things like opening the doors for strangers, saying ma'am and sir. Put things like prayer and the pledge of allegiance back in school. All opinions set aside the fact is the generations before mine weren't as violent, I hate to see what kind of people come out of younger generations. It just seems like when we said prayer's and the pledge of allegiance, when we didn't have violent video games, when our parents could spank us for being bad, when we had to earn/work for the money that bought the newest set of legos the world was a better place.
Here's my comment on her comment:
Peace in our lifetime? You're right. It won't happen. I fear it is part of the human condition for violence to exist somewhere in the world at all times. However, I would not put the lack of peace at the feet of your generation. Violence has existed in some form or fashion since Cain killed Abel.
It has nothing whatsoever to do with whether there is prayer in schools or the Pledge of Allegiance is said daily.
To put things into perspective, when I was growing up, the war in Vietnam was escalating and the Cold War was really heating up. In the early 60's, there was a very real concern that global thermonuclear war would break out to the destruction of all humanity. When I was a teenager, there were several protest groups who chose to use violence as a way to get their message across - American terrorists, if you will. Hijackings were happening left and right. Serial killers whose rampages were televised across the nation, and the first of the school shooters, Charles Whitman, killed 16 people and wounded 31 at the University of Texas in 1966. (Oh! and btw, we had a prayer/devotional and said the pledge daily.)
It seems to me that part of the sense of escalating violence in the world today is due to the ubiquitous nature of the public news system which exists 24/7. If you must find something to televise or fill your website around the clock, then even the first hint of a violent situation ends up filling hours of airtime, over and over again. The technology, and the fact that there were only 3-4 broadcast stations for so many years, did not lend themselves to "all the news, all the time". Even so, when something like the serial killer who came through Beaumont in the early 80's and raped and killed the mother of two of the children at the day care center where I worked, it was carried on the news with breaking news updates as new information was available, up to and including the final minutes when the police trapped him at the Canadian border and killed him when he wouldn't surrender.
As a result, those mentally ill individuals who perpetrate such violent acts as what happened at Virginia Tech this week take advantage of the situation to gain their few minutes of fame, even to committing suicide in a national forum. From their deluded point of view, they will live on in infamy and will leave this life at the pinnacle of their notoriety. Just look at all of the copycat attempts which began to pop up across the country this past week. In this environment of heightened awareness, even a failed attempt gains a visibility which the attacker would not otherwise have.
As to prayer in the schools, it still exists. Just think of all the frantic praying which happens as the test you've not prepared adequately for is handed out or the presentation you're uncertain about is about to start! What has changed is that the schools no longer sponsor the prayers of a particular religion. Look at it this way, what if you (or your child) were Christian in a system where every day the prayer of the day was Buddhist or Hindu or Islamic? That was the concern of our founding parents when freedom of religion was established in our Constitution. Our country has never been completely one religious faith (note that Thomas Jefferson included a Koran in his library) and is designed to honor the faiths of all her peoples.
I'm of the opinion that our behavior tends to operate on a long, slow pendulum and goes from periods of limited violence to extreme violence over time. If you do some historical digging, you'll find that even in colonial times, the adults were concerned about the deteriorating behavior of the younger generation, noting coarse language and coarser behaviors occurring. In time, the behavior gets out of hand and society begins to apply correctives.
As to spanking children, I believe that violence begets violence. What is of significance is that inappropriate behavior receive appropriate consequences. Spanking teaches that it is all right for a significantly larger, more powerful person to inflict damage on the smaller and weaker.
Violent video games are a whole 'nother kettle of fish. I truly wrestle with this one. There's this part of me which says playing these games inures one to the actual harm being inflicted on another, if such action were to happen in real life. Yet if such were so, my generation would be equally involved in the same level of violence as yours (and probably is if you take a measured look at the violence in our world globally), since we were exposed regularly to the violence of cartoons, westerns, the Three Stooges, and war movies. We seem to believe that the same media which advertises in order to get us to buy various and sundry products is not capable of influencing our behavior when it comes to inflicting harm on others. The jury's still out on this one.
Helping others, treating others with respect, living within our means and treating ourselves with respect, well, I think those are part of that pendulum swing I mentioned earlier. I believe there will come a point (and I think we're getting close to reaching it) when the majority of people will be fed up with the way we treat each other and a new level of respect and building community will be started. It won't look quite exactly the way it did 60, 80, 100 years ago, but it will fit our time and our situation. If each of us keeps doing our part toward making the world a better place, the pendulum will swing a bit faster. Nope, we won't achieve peace throughout the world, but our little corner of it will probably become a bit nicer.
I don't think our world will ever know peace in our lifetime. It's sad but true. We've taken away so may values that are needed for peace that my generation the one that's causing all the violence may never stop. We need to go back to the little things like opening the doors for strangers, saying ma'am and sir. Put things like prayer and the pledge of allegiance back in school. All opinions set aside the fact is the generations before mine weren't as violent, I hate to see what kind of people come out of younger generations. It just seems like when we said prayer's and the pledge of allegiance, when we didn't have violent video games, when our parents could spank us for being bad, when we had to earn/work for the money that bought the newest set of legos the world was a better place.
Here's my comment on her comment:
Peace in our lifetime? You're right. It won't happen. I fear it is part of the human condition for violence to exist somewhere in the world at all times. However, I would not put the lack of peace at the feet of your generation. Violence has existed in some form or fashion since Cain killed Abel.
It has nothing whatsoever to do with whether there is prayer in schools or the Pledge of Allegiance is said daily.
To put things into perspective, when I was growing up, the war in Vietnam was escalating and the Cold War was really heating up. In the early 60's, there was a very real concern that global thermonuclear war would break out to the destruction of all humanity. When I was a teenager, there were several protest groups who chose to use violence as a way to get their message across - American terrorists, if you will. Hijackings were happening left and right. Serial killers whose rampages were televised across the nation, and the first of the school shooters, Charles Whitman, killed 16 people and wounded 31 at the University of Texas in 1966. (Oh! and btw, we had a prayer/devotional and said the pledge daily.)
It seems to me that part of the sense of escalating violence in the world today is due to the ubiquitous nature of the public news system which exists 24/7. If you must find something to televise or fill your website around the clock, then even the first hint of a violent situation ends up filling hours of airtime, over and over again. The technology, and the fact that there were only 3-4 broadcast stations for so many years, did not lend themselves to "all the news, all the time". Even so, when something like the serial killer who came through Beaumont in the early 80's and raped and killed the mother of two of the children at the day care center where I worked, it was carried on the news with breaking news updates as new information was available, up to and including the final minutes when the police trapped him at the Canadian border and killed him when he wouldn't surrender.
As a result, those mentally ill individuals who perpetrate such violent acts as what happened at Virginia Tech this week take advantage of the situation to gain their few minutes of fame, even to committing suicide in a national forum. From their deluded point of view, they will live on in infamy and will leave this life at the pinnacle of their notoriety. Just look at all of the copycat attempts which began to pop up across the country this past week. In this environment of heightened awareness, even a failed attempt gains a visibility which the attacker would not otherwise have.
As to prayer in the schools, it still exists. Just think of all the frantic praying which happens as the test you've not prepared adequately for is handed out or the presentation you're uncertain about is about to start! What has changed is that the schools no longer sponsor the prayers of a particular religion. Look at it this way, what if you (or your child) were Christian in a system where every day the prayer of the day was Buddhist or Hindu or Islamic? That was the concern of our founding parents when freedom of religion was established in our Constitution. Our country has never been completely one religious faith (note that Thomas Jefferson included a Koran in his library) and is designed to honor the faiths of all her peoples.
I'm of the opinion that our behavior tends to operate on a long, slow pendulum and goes from periods of limited violence to extreme violence over time. If you do some historical digging, you'll find that even in colonial times, the adults were concerned about the deteriorating behavior of the younger generation, noting coarse language and coarser behaviors occurring. In time, the behavior gets out of hand and society begins to apply correctives.
As to spanking children, I believe that violence begets violence. What is of significance is that inappropriate behavior receive appropriate consequences. Spanking teaches that it is all right for a significantly larger, more powerful person to inflict damage on the smaller and weaker.
Violent video games are a whole 'nother kettle of fish. I truly wrestle with this one. There's this part of me which says playing these games inures one to the actual harm being inflicted on another, if such action were to happen in real life. Yet if such were so, my generation would be equally involved in the same level of violence as yours (and probably is if you take a measured look at the violence in our world globally), since we were exposed regularly to the violence of cartoons, westerns, the Three Stooges, and war movies. We seem to believe that the same media which advertises in order to get us to buy various and sundry products is not capable of influencing our behavior when it comes to inflicting harm on others. The jury's still out on this one.
Helping others, treating others with respect, living within our means and treating ourselves with respect, well, I think those are part of that pendulum swing I mentioned earlier. I believe there will come a point (and I think we're getting close to reaching it) when the majority of people will be fed up with the way we treat each other and a new level of respect and building community will be started. It won't look quite exactly the way it did 60, 80, 100 years ago, but it will fit our time and our situation. If each of us keeps doing our part toward making the world a better place, the pendulum will swing a bit faster. Nope, we won't achieve peace throughout the world, but our little corner of it will probably become a bit nicer.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
In the News
Has it really been almost 2 weeks since last I posted? Guess so! Things got a bit busy, what with the son-ly person heading to California right after Easter and meetings and recuperating and house repair and all. Then, most of this week, I was at our presbytery's annual post-Easter clergy retreat - sans electronics (mostly). It was a truly good and much needed break, filled with laughter and naps and good food and healing.
Then we had to return to the real world. I ache for the families and friends of those who died at Virginia Tech, yes, even the shooter's family. The repercussions, the video, the commentary seem to reverbrate unceasingly. There is so much that is incomprehensible, which boggles the mind. What is it about the time period around April 19th? So many vile and incomprehensible experiences seem to have that date in near proximity. Is there something in the air that makes people snap? Is it just coincidence? Who knows?
And now, there are potential copycats popping up in communities across the country. Or is it just that we're more aware of them now that we have Virginia Tech in our range of vision daily? So far, security has been sufficient to avert the attackers or keep the carnage to a minimum (ack! I hate to think this way.). There's this part of me which wants to take every person who might remotely even consider taking up weapons and harming people and locking them away in an appropriate mental institution for treatment, and then forcing them to take the meds or do whatever it takes to keep such violence from occurring again. But then, how do you determine who those persons might be? So, what else can we, should we, must we do? Even if we were to ratchet down on access to guns, someone in Cho's state of mind would find some other way to perpetrate violence against others (and ultimately him/herself). There are no easy answers to this one. *sigh*
On Thursday, Mom and I buried KittKat in her backyard, a good place in the sun near where the birds and squirrels used to drive PsychoKat nuts. Then the dog promptly dug KittKat's box back up. Just being a dog. I guess she wanted to nibble KittKat's neck, just like she used to.
Housely progress is occuring. The appropriately sized check from the insurance arrived during the week, so I ordered and scheduled the shower repairs yesterday and went to schedule the door replacement today. Dead and dying tree removal is scheduled for Monday. People are coming to finish up the exterior painting and fix the fence sometime next week. WOOHOO!! But I'm not going to get too excited or predict a move-in date. I'm afraid something else will come along and trip me up, if I do.
Well, it's time to get ready for tomorrow, bulletin to prepare, sermon to write, clothes to wash (a favorite pasttime *she said sarcastically*). Prayers for healing continue rising, and may the world find some way to be filled with peace.
Then we had to return to the real world. I ache for the families and friends of those who died at Virginia Tech, yes, even the shooter's family. The repercussions, the video, the commentary seem to reverbrate unceasingly. There is so much that is incomprehensible, which boggles the mind. What is it about the time period around April 19th? So many vile and incomprehensible experiences seem to have that date in near proximity. Is there something in the air that makes people snap? Is it just coincidence? Who knows?
And now, there are potential copycats popping up in communities across the country. Or is it just that we're more aware of them now that we have Virginia Tech in our range of vision daily? So far, security has been sufficient to avert the attackers or keep the carnage to a minimum (ack! I hate to think this way.). There's this part of me which wants to take every person who might remotely even consider taking up weapons and harming people and locking them away in an appropriate mental institution for treatment, and then forcing them to take the meds or do whatever it takes to keep such violence from occurring again. But then, how do you determine who those persons might be? So, what else can we, should we, must we do? Even if we were to ratchet down on access to guns, someone in Cho's state of mind would find some other way to perpetrate violence against others (and ultimately him/herself). There are no easy answers to this one. *sigh*
On Thursday, Mom and I buried KittKat in her backyard, a good place in the sun near where the birds and squirrels used to drive PsychoKat nuts. Then the dog promptly dug KittKat's box back up. Just being a dog. I guess she wanted to nibble KittKat's neck, just like she used to.
Housely progress is occuring. The appropriately sized check from the insurance arrived during the week, so I ordered and scheduled the shower repairs yesterday and went to schedule the door replacement today. Dead and dying tree removal is scheduled for Monday. People are coming to finish up the exterior painting and fix the fence sometime next week. WOOHOO!! But I'm not going to get too excited or predict a move-in date. I'm afraid something else will come along and trip me up, if I do.
Well, it's time to get ready for tomorrow, bulletin to prepare, sermon to write, clothes to wash (a favorite pasttime *she said sarcastically*). Prayers for healing continue rising, and may the world find some way to be filled with peace.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Chronology of a Hellacious Week
I generally love Holy Week. It's a hard week for pastors if you do any of the extra worship services, but there's something about following Jesus and the disciples from the triumphal entry to Jerusalem through the Last Supper to the crucifixion to the dark waiting hours to the Resurrection which is so enriching.
This past Holy Week, however, was the week from hell.
Monday started out just fine. I had a lot to accomplish, but it was a glorious day and I wasn't rushed to get anything done. Then Mom called to tell me my cat was sick. At the time, I wasn't particularly worried. Cats, like people, sometimes get stomach viruses, so you just give it some time and it goes away. Mom doesn't do "sick cat" very well, so I got periodic semi-frantic calls during the day.
On Tuesday, Mom called in the morning to say that KittKat wasn't doing any better. I had things I had to do, but some of them could be done from Houston, so I told Mom to call the vet and I'd be in town about 3pm. Rush to office, fight computer there, but got the two things that had to be done on Tuesday finished, then headed to Houston, while frantically trying to locate a pianist who could play for our Wednesday choir rehearsal and Maundy Thursday service, since our current pianist had to work those nights. Fortunately, that mission was accomplished by the time I reached Winnie.
Now, I figured it would be just a short jaunt, so didn't make any plans to stay overnight. WRONG! The vet hydrated KittKat, gave her something to calm her stomach, drew blood, and told us to watch her to see how she's doing. Did I mention that Mom doesn't do "sick cat" very well? So I spent the night in case we had to catch the cat in the morning.
On Wednesday, KittKat looked a bit better and was claiming the high ground again. The test results didn't show anything dire, so I returned home. Or that is, returned to the church to put together the bulletins for Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. Managed to get Thursday and Saturday finished, but the printer ran out of ink before I could print Sunday's bulletins. Choir practice went well, but nothing was certain about the brass ensemble.
On Thursday, I get a phone message that my choir accompanist probably wouldn't be able to be at worship on Sunday. ACK! This means that the brass ensemble has fallen apart as well, since two of the accompanist's family members were in the ensemble. DOUBLE ACK! Call the organist, who will gladly play for the choir, but that still leaves me in a bind about the Easter fanfare. About 4:30, my mom calls to say KittKat's doing worse, and I encourage her to take her to the vet ASAP. About 5:00, I get the call asking me about putting her down. Maundy Thursday service starts at 6:00. Needless to say, the Maundy Thursday service was a tough one. Then my son decides that there won't be a fanfare for Easter and wants to take the 'safe' route by getting the organist to play a prelude. I'd already told the organist 3 times that he wouldn't need a prelude, so had a minor meltdown to go along with the horrible day I was already having. My son decided that he'd do something brassy for Easter. (Thanks, son!)
On Friday, I arrive at church with printer cartridges to finish up the bulletins, and the printer completely craps out. It won't even let me put the new cartridge in. At this point, I still have the Good Friday meditation on "I thirst" to complete. Throwing my hands up in the air, I head to the house, write most of my meditation (and then get stumped on how to end it).
In the afternoon, I meet with my church member who was helping me get the lilies we needed for Sunday ... except the place where we were to get them was out! ACK! Took a detour to buy a new printer, then headed on the prowl for lilies. We managed to find 7 at one place and took them back to the church. My member was going to continue the hunt, while I got ready for the Good Friday service. We get to the church and she has a flat tire. A very flat tire. *sigh*
On Saturday, I head to the church to finish those unfinished bulletins. Install the new printer without too much difficulty. Print out the bulletins, only to discover that our old printer settings wouldn't work on the new printer. Thinking I'd made all the necessary changes, I began copying Sunday's main bulletin. Oops! WRONG AGAIN! In order to get the stupid thing to format correctly, I had to completely redo the bulletin. Thank God for cut and paste! I didn't have to actually type everything, just a few hunks of it.
My lily-finding church member managed to scrounge up enough lilies and they arrived at the church, so that was ready for the grand procession on Sunday morning.
Getting ready for the Easter vigil, I suddenly couldn't find the small candles we use at Christmas. It didn't help any that the weather had turned horrendous on Saturday and the temperature was heading toward the basement. The vigil starts outside with the lighting of new fire, so we could light those candles I couldn't find. If we had to move that inside, the fire alarm system would go off. Not a good plan. Someone else managed to find the candles and we had our fire-starter stand just outside the door to get that going. After that, the service went well.
Headed home, then to eat with the son, then to finish up the sunrise service and our regular worship service before heading to bed. Hit the pillows about 1am (not bad for me, actually) with the alarm clock set for 5:45am. That's right, people! A.M.!
I woke up at 6:38am - eight minutes after the sunrise service was to start! I don't think I'll repeat the language used at that point. Fortunately, because the weather was still yucky, not many people showed up for the service. I cried. Then headed home to get ready for the main service.
When I returned to church, the sun came out and it was a glorious morning. My son and his trombone-playing compatriot met to see if they could put something fanfare-y together for the prelude, and went through about a half-dozen pieces before getting something they could both play. The organist arrived. The choir rehearsed. And we went through the service without any hitches, unless you count the ingenious youth who managed to 'do the impossible' during my time with young disciples. But then, resurrection is impossible, too, so I managed to make that fly.
While I wouldn't want another hellacious week for Holy Week in the future, I will say this for it: it's the first Easter Sunday since I began as a minister where I have truly been able to relax and enjoy the worship service. In the grand scheme of things, it could have been much worse.
This past Holy Week, however, was the week from hell.
Monday started out just fine. I had a lot to accomplish, but it was a glorious day and I wasn't rushed to get anything done. Then Mom called to tell me my cat was sick. At the time, I wasn't particularly worried. Cats, like people, sometimes get stomach viruses, so you just give it some time and it goes away. Mom doesn't do "sick cat" very well, so I got periodic semi-frantic calls during the day.
On Tuesday, Mom called in the morning to say that KittKat wasn't doing any better. I had things I had to do, but some of them could be done from Houston, so I told Mom to call the vet and I'd be in town about 3pm. Rush to office, fight computer there, but got the two things that had to be done on Tuesday finished, then headed to Houston, while frantically trying to locate a pianist who could play for our Wednesday choir rehearsal and Maundy Thursday service, since our current pianist had to work those nights. Fortunately, that mission was accomplished by the time I reached Winnie.
Now, I figured it would be just a short jaunt, so didn't make any plans to stay overnight. WRONG! The vet hydrated KittKat, gave her something to calm her stomach, drew blood, and told us to watch her to see how she's doing. Did I mention that Mom doesn't do "sick cat" very well? So I spent the night in case we had to catch the cat in the morning.
On Wednesday, KittKat looked a bit better and was claiming the high ground again. The test results didn't show anything dire, so I returned home. Or that is, returned to the church to put together the bulletins for Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. Managed to get Thursday and Saturday finished, but the printer ran out of ink before I could print Sunday's bulletins. Choir practice went well, but nothing was certain about the brass ensemble.
On Thursday, I get a phone message that my choir accompanist probably wouldn't be able to be at worship on Sunday. ACK! This means that the brass ensemble has fallen apart as well, since two of the accompanist's family members were in the ensemble. DOUBLE ACK! Call the organist, who will gladly play for the choir, but that still leaves me in a bind about the Easter fanfare. About 4:30, my mom calls to say KittKat's doing worse, and I encourage her to take her to the vet ASAP. About 5:00, I get the call asking me about putting her down. Maundy Thursday service starts at 6:00. Needless to say, the Maundy Thursday service was a tough one. Then my son decides that there won't be a fanfare for Easter and wants to take the 'safe' route by getting the organist to play a prelude. I'd already told the organist 3 times that he wouldn't need a prelude, so had a minor meltdown to go along with the horrible day I was already having. My son decided that he'd do something brassy for Easter. (Thanks, son!)
On Friday, I arrive at church with printer cartridges to finish up the bulletins, and the printer completely craps out. It won't even let me put the new cartridge in. At this point, I still have the Good Friday meditation on "I thirst" to complete. Throwing my hands up in the air, I head to the house, write most of my meditation (and then get stumped on how to end it).
In the afternoon, I meet with my church member who was helping me get the lilies we needed for Sunday ... except the place where we were to get them was out! ACK! Took a detour to buy a new printer, then headed on the prowl for lilies. We managed to find 7 at one place and took them back to the church. My member was going to continue the hunt, while I got ready for the Good Friday service. We get to the church and she has a flat tire. A very flat tire. *sigh*
On Saturday, I head to the church to finish those unfinished bulletins. Install the new printer without too much difficulty. Print out the bulletins, only to discover that our old printer settings wouldn't work on the new printer. Thinking I'd made all the necessary changes, I began copying Sunday's main bulletin. Oops! WRONG AGAIN! In order to get the stupid thing to format correctly, I had to completely redo the bulletin. Thank God for cut and paste! I didn't have to actually type everything, just a few hunks of it.
My lily-finding church member managed to scrounge up enough lilies and they arrived at the church, so that was ready for the grand procession on Sunday morning.
Getting ready for the Easter vigil, I suddenly couldn't find the small candles we use at Christmas. It didn't help any that the weather had turned horrendous on Saturday and the temperature was heading toward the basement. The vigil starts outside with the lighting of new fire, so we could light those candles I couldn't find. If we had to move that inside, the fire alarm system would go off. Not a good plan. Someone else managed to find the candles and we had our fire-starter stand just outside the door to get that going. After that, the service went well.
Headed home, then to eat with the son, then to finish up the sunrise service and our regular worship service before heading to bed. Hit the pillows about 1am (not bad for me, actually) with the alarm clock set for 5:45am. That's right, people! A.M.!
I woke up at 6:38am - eight minutes after the sunrise service was to start! I don't think I'll repeat the language used at that point. Fortunately, because the weather was still yucky, not many people showed up for the service. I cried. Then headed home to get ready for the main service.
When I returned to church, the sun came out and it was a glorious morning. My son and his trombone-playing compatriot met to see if they could put something fanfare-y together for the prelude, and went through about a half-dozen pieces before getting something they could both play. The organist arrived. The choir rehearsed. And we went through the service without any hitches, unless you count the ingenious youth who managed to 'do the impossible' during my time with young disciples. But then, resurrection is impossible, too, so I managed to make that fly.
While I wouldn't want another hellacious week for Holy Week in the future, I will say this for it: it's the first Easter Sunday since I began as a minister where I have truly been able to relax and enjoy the worship service. In the grand scheme of things, it could have been much worse.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Requiem for a Kat
She was a little stray, probably abandoned as a kitten. Some friends found her and rescued her when she somehow managed to climb her way into the cabinet of their rv. I brought her home about eight years ago.
She had an interesting miaow, so I named her KittKat, 'cuz she meowed in skat There was always something a little bit skittish about her. The Great Idabel Ice Storm at Christmas, 1999, which happened a couple of weeks after she was spayed, discombibilated her. A tree limb poked its way through the roof, and she and the dog spent the night there alone that first night. After the storm, she gained a new name - PsychoKat.
She never did handle change very well. When we moved, and were down to the last stuff before packing dog and cat into the car to head south, my son was packing some of his things away. He came into the living room with a startled sound in his voice, "She hissed at me! That cat hissed at me!" Apparently, KittKat decided that my son was responsible for all of the current chaos in her life.
She used to play with the dog, attack her, then flop on the floor for the dog to nibble her neck. Her favorite places were up high, so she could look down on things. She never did quite figure out sliding glass doors. She'd sit looking out the window, then attempt to attack something on the outside, clonking her head.
Before Her Horribleness roared through in 2005, cat, dog, and I went to Houston for vacation. I had a few days back home, then a week long trip to make, so I left KittKat at Mom's. She never made it back home.
KittKat was fine until Monday. On Monday, she started vomiting and couldn't stop. The vet gave her some fluids and stuff to calm the vomiting, which helped a bit. Blood tests revealed only that she was dehydrated. The tests didn't reveal why. She got a bit better, but wasn't interested in eating and wouldn't drink. Today she began vomiting again - green stuff.
If she'd been here with me, I would have tried a bit long. But Mom couldn't handle it, and I couldn't make it to Houston to get her. The vet thought her heart was enlarged, since she was breathing kind of rough, too. (What scaredy-kat doesn't breathe weirdly when out of her environment?) So this afternoon, I agreed to put her to sleep.
I don't know if I made the right decision, but it was the only one I could see at that moment. Right now, it just hurts.
So - here's to KittKat, who kept me company and 'talked' to me in the mornings and made me laugh. Goodbye, little friend.
I think I'm going to go and cry some more.
She had an interesting miaow, so I named her KittKat, 'cuz she meowed in skat There was always something a little bit skittish about her. The Great Idabel Ice Storm at Christmas, 1999, which happened a couple of weeks after she was spayed, discombibilated her. A tree limb poked its way through the roof, and she and the dog spent the night there alone that first night. After the storm, she gained a new name - PsychoKat.
She never did handle change very well. When we moved, and were down to the last stuff before packing dog and cat into the car to head south, my son was packing some of his things away. He came into the living room with a startled sound in his voice, "She hissed at me! That cat hissed at me!" Apparently, KittKat decided that my son was responsible for all of the current chaos in her life.
She used to play with the dog, attack her, then flop on the floor for the dog to nibble her neck. Her favorite places were up high, so she could look down on things. She never did quite figure out sliding glass doors. She'd sit looking out the window, then attempt to attack something on the outside, clonking her head.
Before Her Horribleness roared through in 2005, cat, dog, and I went to Houston for vacation. I had a few days back home, then a week long trip to make, so I left KittKat at Mom's. She never made it back home.
KittKat was fine until Monday. On Monday, she started vomiting and couldn't stop. The vet gave her some fluids and stuff to calm the vomiting, which helped a bit. Blood tests revealed only that she was dehydrated. The tests didn't reveal why. She got a bit better, but wasn't interested in eating and wouldn't drink. Today she began vomiting again - green stuff.
If she'd been here with me, I would have tried a bit long. But Mom couldn't handle it, and I couldn't make it to Houston to get her. The vet thought her heart was enlarged, since she was breathing kind of rough, too. (What scaredy-kat doesn't breathe weirdly when out of her environment?) So this afternoon, I agreed to put her to sleep.
I don't know if I made the right decision, but it was the only one I could see at that moment. Right now, it just hurts.
So - here's to KittKat, who kept me company and 'talked' to me in the mornings and made me laugh. Goodbye, little friend.
I think I'm going to go and cry some more.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Outraged
In today's Beaumont Enterprise, one of the editorials is by an out-of-state pundit who writes about the "lessons" learned in the process of getting a bazillion pine cones removed from his yard. Mark Rutledge contracts with his six-year-old daughter to pick up the pine cones at 5 cents per cone, partly because he wants to teach his daughter about the value of earning one's money upon learning that she's gleaned about $90 via birthdays and tooth fairy and other sundry non-employment income.
After a bit of nudging, she gets down to the task and ultimately rakes in about 300 pine cones, or $15 worth. In Rutledge's view, that's a bit too much money for a first-grader to earn (based on his own memories of it taking a bit longer for him to earn that much money as a child). So, he asks her how much money she has and learns she's already in possession of $92. Then he makes this offer: "Tell you what, I can pay you a nickel a pine cone like we talked about. Or I can give you enough money so that you've got an even hundred." What six-year-old wouldn't think the even hundred would be the better deal?
Here's what I emailed him:
Dear Mr. Rutledge,
I believe you are very lucky your daughter hasn't learned how to multiply yet. I'm hoping she doesn't remember this experience when she does. If so, she'll realize that you swindled her out of $7.00, legitimately earned, I might add. You made a verbal contract with her to pay 5 cents per pine cone. In that contract, you did not stipulate any limits. Then, when the total came to more than what you wanted to pay, you pulled a bait and switch on her, based on the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to figure out that you actually owed her a heck of a lot more (from a child's point of view).
What you did was unconscionable. There was no way a six-year old would be able to calculate the difference between 5 cents per pine cone and "enough money so that you've got an even hundred", and you, as an adult, knew it. You took advantage of your child and should be ashamed of yourself. She did the work she contracted to do, admittedly very much like a six-year old with moaning and groaning along the way, but she did the work. Can you imagine the lesson you would have taught her if you had given her the $15? Just think of how hard she might work in the future if she'd gotten the just reward that she'd earned - for just a little bit of extra effort, my time is worth $15! Wow! Who'd ever have imagined that?
Isn't this the reason we established child labor laws, so that our children wouldn't be taken advantage of? I'm still seeing red!
After a bit of nudging, she gets down to the task and ultimately rakes in about 300 pine cones, or $15 worth. In Rutledge's view, that's a bit too much money for a first-grader to earn (based on his own memories of it taking a bit longer for him to earn that much money as a child). So, he asks her how much money she has and learns she's already in possession of $92. Then he makes this offer: "Tell you what, I can pay you a nickel a pine cone like we talked about. Or I can give you enough money so that you've got an even hundred." What six-year-old wouldn't think the even hundred would be the better deal?
Here's what I emailed him:
Dear Mr. Rutledge,
I believe you are very lucky your daughter hasn't learned how to multiply yet. I'm hoping she doesn't remember this experience when she does. If so, she'll realize that you swindled her out of $7.00, legitimately earned, I might add. You made a verbal contract with her to pay 5 cents per pine cone. In that contract, you did not stipulate any limits. Then, when the total came to more than what you wanted to pay, you pulled a bait and switch on her, based on the fact that she probably wouldn't be able to figure out that you actually owed her a heck of a lot more (from a child's point of view).
What you did was unconscionable. There was no way a six-year old would be able to calculate the difference between 5 cents per pine cone and "enough money so that you've got an even hundred", and you, as an adult, knew it. You took advantage of your child and should be ashamed of yourself. She did the work she contracted to do, admittedly very much like a six-year old with moaning and groaning along the way, but she did the work. Can you imagine the lesson you would have taught her if you had given her the $15? Just think of how hard she might work in the future if she'd gotten the just reward that she'd earned - for just a little bit of extra effort, my time is worth $15! Wow! Who'd ever have imagined that?
Isn't this the reason we established child labor laws, so that our children wouldn't be taken advantage of? I'm still seeing red!
Monday, April 02, 2007
Slightly Absurd
Kick Off Earth Day
That's the subject line of an email from Sojourners Magazine. In case you don't know, Sojourners provides "progressive Christian commentary on faith, politics and culture". I get e-updates on various issues regularly. Today is no exception and that's what the subject line said.
Where'd my brain go this morning? I immediately began a list of people I'd like to kick off Earth, and wondered what the date of this wonderful event would be.
After a few names, I realized it was about preparing for Earth Day. Oops!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Valley of the Shadow of Death
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” That KJV verse of the 23rd Psalm has been stuck in my head recently. These words have always been comforting to me when I’ve faced any difficulty. So here we are approaching Holy Week, the week when we remember Jesus’ last days, and I began to wonder if these words were comforting to him as he faced Jerusalem and the darkness which was ahead.
Heading into Jerusalem with his disciples, Jesus knew that the cheering crowds welcoming him would have a change of heart. As he entered town, did he think that he was at the edge of that valley? Did he say to himself over the hosannas!, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?
As Jesus prepared for the Passover meal, the last supper when he once again taught his disciples about his definition of ministry and gave them a new meaning for a familiar ritual, was he also aware that he had walked deeper into the shadow? As he broke the bread and poured the wine, did he say to himself, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?
Knowing that his arrest was coming soon, when they left the place of the Passover and entered the Garden of Gethsemane, did the fear which struck him and led him to pray, “If it be possible, take this cup from me, but your will, not mine, be done.” remind him that he was not only in the shadow of the valley, but approaching the bottom? Could it be that the comfort of “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” made it possible for him to say “Not my will, but yours.”?
As he was beaten and scourged, subjected to the mockery of a trial, forced to carry his cross to Golgotha, nailed to it, and hung between two felons, could Jesus have felt that there was no shadow about this valley, that he was actually in the valley of death? Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” make it possible for him to take each step, endure each painful hour, experience his painful death?
In the Apostles’ Creed, we are reminded that Jesus descended into hell, walking completely through the valley of the shadow of death before overcoming death in resurrection. Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” give him the strength to fulfill his baptism in death and rise again to life eternal?
There is comfort in knowing that one is not alone in even the darkest hours. Scripture reminds us of that. Perhaps that is why these words are so comforting, so quickly come to mind in the dark times. While there is no way to know it for sure, I’d like to think these are words that comforted Jesus in the same way. Because beyond the certainty of companionship in the darkness, there is a second assurance: that one does not stay in the valley of the shadow of death, and in this assurance lies hope! A hope which carried Jesus, and us, beyond our fears into life eternal!
Heading into Jerusalem with his disciples, Jesus knew that the cheering crowds welcoming him would have a change of heart. As he entered town, did he think that he was at the edge of that valley? Did he say to himself over the hosannas!, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?
As Jesus prepared for the Passover meal, the last supper when he once again taught his disciples about his definition of ministry and gave them a new meaning for a familiar ritual, was he also aware that he had walked deeper into the shadow? As he broke the bread and poured the wine, did he say to himself, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?
Knowing that his arrest was coming soon, when they left the place of the Passover and entered the Garden of Gethsemane, did the fear which struck him and led him to pray, “If it be possible, take this cup from me, but your will, not mine, be done.” remind him that he was not only in the shadow of the valley, but approaching the bottom? Could it be that the comfort of “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” made it possible for him to say “Not my will, but yours.”?
As he was beaten and scourged, subjected to the mockery of a trial, forced to carry his cross to Golgotha, nailed to it, and hung between two felons, could Jesus have felt that there was no shadow about this valley, that he was actually in the valley of death? Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” make it possible for him to take each step, endure each painful hour, experience his painful death?
In the Apostles’ Creed, we are reminded that Jesus descended into hell, walking completely through the valley of the shadow of death before overcoming death in resurrection. Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” give him the strength to fulfill his baptism in death and rise again to life eternal?
There is comfort in knowing that one is not alone in even the darkest hours. Scripture reminds us of that. Perhaps that is why these words are so comforting, so quickly come to mind in the dark times. While there is no way to know it for sure, I’d like to think these are words that comforted Jesus in the same way. Because beyond the certainty of companionship in the darkness, there is a second assurance: that one does not stay in the valley of the shadow of death, and in this assurance lies hope! A hope which carried Jesus, and us, beyond our fears into life eternal!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Question of Degree
Yes, I'm just now getting around to reading Sunday's paper.
In our local paper, the opinions editor did his Sunday OpEd piece on the Tokyo firebombing from World War II. In it, he expresses surprise that the people of Japan are suing the Japanese government over the bombing, not the American government.
The logic of the suit is that the Japanese government caused the attack by starting an unprovoked war with the United States, and then not taking care of the victims of the attack on Tokyo afterward. "Accordingto to the Kyodo News agency, the 112 plaintiffs accuse the Japanese government with failing to help bombing victims and - get this - starting the war and refusing to surrender, thereby inviting the raid." He then goes on to detail some of the various atrocities committed by the Japanese during WWII, and notes that Japan and Germany "have no one to blame but themselves for the devastation of their countries during the war. They attacked other nations - many of which were defenseless and posed zero threat to them - and did horrible things to millions of people. Because of that, they deserve every bit of the counterattack that followed." (T. Taschinger, Beaumont Enterprise, 3/25/07)
I acknowledge that the scale of atrocity, loss of life, devastation which took place during WWII is far and beyond anything which has occurred, or will occur, during the current war with Iraq. But is it 'scale' which determines whether a country is 'deserving' of any counterattack it receives as a result of an unwarranted assault of another country?
I couldn't help but read his editoral as moral justification for any group of native Iraqis who may in the future decide to exact retribution against the United States for its unprovoked attack, and subsequent loss of life and upheaval, upon their country. Does that mean the people of the United States should sue our own government for such a breach if (when?) there is another attack on American soil by terrorists "home-grown" as a result of our government's course of action in Iraq?
When GW Bush decided to invade Iraq, there was no clear evidence that the Iraqi government or people had anything whatsoever to do with the terrorist attack on American soil of 9/11. Subsequent investigation and information pretty clearly says that they weren't. Thus, our attack on Iraq would qualify as unprovoked.
The scale of lives lost by Iraqis and Americans and allies is nowhere close to that of WWII; however, any loss of life as a result is significant. The U.S. has acknowledged, and fortunately dealt with, such acts as Abu Ghraib and the rape/murders committed on Iraqi soil. Yet the reality is that they did occur. Smaller, almost trivial (as if any behavior such as those acts could ever be called 'trivial'), in comparison to the actions of Japan and Germany in WWII, yet they happened. The devastation to the country and its infrastructure has been immense, and has ultimately facilitated the on-going sectarian violence which exists today. [aside - there will be those who say that anything which occurred as a result of our invasion is considerably less damage than that perpetrated by Saddam Hussein during his rule. I don't deny that Hussein was a tyrant and mass murderer and probably a worthy candidate for removal from office. That is not the issue which I am addressing.]
By Taschinger's basic logic, should we experience another attack on American soil, we would be fully deserving and a trip to the local courthouse for judgment would be completely appropriate. I wonder whether those going to court will choose to sue the American government as a whole or just GW Bush and company.
In our local paper, the opinions editor did his Sunday OpEd piece on the Tokyo firebombing from World War II. In it, he expresses surprise that the people of Japan are suing the Japanese government over the bombing, not the American government.
The logic of the suit is that the Japanese government caused the attack by starting an unprovoked war with the United States, and then not taking care of the victims of the attack on Tokyo afterward. "Accordingto to the Kyodo News agency, the 112 plaintiffs accuse the Japanese government with failing to help bombing victims and - get this - starting the war and refusing to surrender, thereby inviting the raid." He then goes on to detail some of the various atrocities committed by the Japanese during WWII, and notes that Japan and Germany "have no one to blame but themselves for the devastation of their countries during the war. They attacked other nations - many of which were defenseless and posed zero threat to them - and did horrible things to millions of people. Because of that, they deserve every bit of the counterattack that followed." (T. Taschinger, Beaumont Enterprise, 3/25/07)
I acknowledge that the scale of atrocity, loss of life, devastation which took place during WWII is far and beyond anything which has occurred, or will occur, during the current war with Iraq. But is it 'scale' which determines whether a country is 'deserving' of any counterattack it receives as a result of an unwarranted assault of another country?
I couldn't help but read his editoral as moral justification for any group of native Iraqis who may in the future decide to exact retribution against the United States for its unprovoked attack, and subsequent loss of life and upheaval, upon their country. Does that mean the people of the United States should sue our own government for such a breach if (when?) there is another attack on American soil by terrorists "home-grown" as a result of our government's course of action in Iraq?
When GW Bush decided to invade Iraq, there was no clear evidence that the Iraqi government or people had anything whatsoever to do with the terrorist attack on American soil of 9/11. Subsequent investigation and information pretty clearly says that they weren't. Thus, our attack on Iraq would qualify as unprovoked.
The scale of lives lost by Iraqis and Americans and allies is nowhere close to that of WWII; however, any loss of life as a result is significant. The U.S. has acknowledged, and fortunately dealt with, such acts as Abu Ghraib and the rape/murders committed on Iraqi soil. Yet the reality is that they did occur. Smaller, almost trivial (as if any behavior such as those acts could ever be called 'trivial'), in comparison to the actions of Japan and Germany in WWII, yet they happened. The devastation to the country and its infrastructure has been immense, and has ultimately facilitated the on-going sectarian violence which exists today. [aside - there will be those who say that anything which occurred as a result of our invasion is considerably less damage than that perpetrated by Saddam Hussein during his rule. I don't deny that Hussein was a tyrant and mass murderer and probably a worthy candidate for removal from office. That is not the issue which I am addressing.]
By Taschinger's basic logic, should we experience another attack on American soil, we would be fully deserving and a trip to the local courthouse for judgment would be completely appropriate. I wonder whether those going to court will choose to sue the American government as a whole or just GW Bush and company.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Nostalgia
It was one of those moments. The only sounds - birds chirling and chirrupping, mourning doves cooing their mournful sound in a quiet, blurred conversation. The sun shining at just the right angle. A hint of cool in the warming air. And I was transported back to my childhood.
I remember mornings like this when I was a little girl. The house we lived in wasn't air conditioned, so the windows were open for the breeze wafting crisply through the rooms. Sometimes you'd hear a woodpecker going after the bugs in the trees or bees buzzing around the rosebushes just outside my bedroom. Now and then a car would start up and leave the double cul-de-sac. And, if it was early enough, you'd hear the donkey down the road braying loudly for his breakfast. hee - HAW. ... hee -HAW. ... hee - HAW. ... he-haw-he-haw-he-haw-he-haw!
On days like these, I'd be in my bedroom until it was "time to get up". I had one of those wonderful beveled mirrors above my dresser, and I remember finding just the right place to stand/sit so you looked really large or really tiny. It was so much fun spending time standing up, and sitting down, and standing up, and sitting down, just watching my size change back and forth. The fascinations of childhood.
It was just one of those moments. Transient. Catapulted to a fond memory of the past. All too short. Magic!
I remember mornings like this when I was a little girl. The house we lived in wasn't air conditioned, so the windows were open for the breeze wafting crisply through the rooms. Sometimes you'd hear a woodpecker going after the bugs in the trees or bees buzzing around the rosebushes just outside my bedroom. Now and then a car would start up and leave the double cul-de-sac. And, if it was early enough, you'd hear the donkey down the road braying loudly for his breakfast. hee - HAW. ... hee -HAW. ... hee - HAW. ... he-haw-he-haw-he-haw-he-haw!
On days like these, I'd be in my bedroom until it was "time to get up". I had one of those wonderful beveled mirrors above my dresser, and I remember finding just the right place to stand/sit so you looked really large or really tiny. It was so much fun spending time standing up, and sitting down, and standing up, and sitting down, just watching my size change back and forth. The fascinations of childhood.
It was just one of those moments. Transient. Catapulted to a fond memory of the past. All too short. Magic!
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Progress
Inch by inch. Layer by layer. Mile of painter's tape by mile of painter's tape. Progress is happening. S-l-o-w-l-y.
This week I had the new garbage disposer installed, and learned that my dishwasher actually does work. Good news! One less thing that has to be replaced. The painting in the kitchen is completed, so the tape and coverings are now down.
I've discovered that it will cost about the same to re-tile my shower as it will to put in cultured marble. Now all I've got to do is contact the insurance company to get approval to go ahead with something. It's especially important since either way I go, it'll cost almost double what the insurance company allowed for the job.
Since I've been doing the contracting myself, I have a little bit extra for doing a couple of things that are best done while the house is in disarray: replace the linoleum in the kitchen and put in a new sliding glass door and front door. Both have their problems. And while I painted, I discovered that there's a whole lot of heat transfer at the doors. Energy efficiency is not their strong suit at the moment.
My "demon wall" in the dining room is beginning to look normal. It doesn't quite look like I threw blood at it any more. It's almost actually looking like it's supposed to. I think one more coat of paint will do it. *fingers crossed* Still a ways to go on the painting. There's trim and a bathroom, the rest of the laundry room and a little hallway, and that'll be done.
Now I think I'm going to work on stripping the paint - the paint that I'm wearing, that is. I may someday not look like a harlequin. At least I like the colors!
This week I had the new garbage disposer installed, and learned that my dishwasher actually does work. Good news! One less thing that has to be replaced. The painting in the kitchen is completed, so the tape and coverings are now down.
I've discovered that it will cost about the same to re-tile my shower as it will to put in cultured marble. Now all I've got to do is contact the insurance company to get approval to go ahead with something. It's especially important since either way I go, it'll cost almost double what the insurance company allowed for the job.
Since I've been doing the contracting myself, I have a little bit extra for doing a couple of things that are best done while the house is in disarray: replace the linoleum in the kitchen and put in a new sliding glass door and front door. Both have their problems. And while I painted, I discovered that there's a whole lot of heat transfer at the doors. Energy efficiency is not their strong suit at the moment.
My "demon wall" in the dining room is beginning to look normal. It doesn't quite look like I threw blood at it any more. It's almost actually looking like it's supposed to. I think one more coat of paint will do it. *fingers crossed* Still a ways to go on the painting. There's trim and a bathroom, the rest of the laundry room and a little hallway, and that'll be done.
Now I think I'm going to work on stripping the paint - the paint that I'm wearing, that is. I may someday not look like a harlequin. At least I like the colors!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Morning Musings
For some bizarre reason, I can't get one of the commercials for the latest Will Ferrell movie out of my brain. It's a stupid, stupid commercial, and there's no way on the face of the earth I'd ever go to see it. I wouldn't even pay money to rent it. Besides the fact that I don't particularly care for Ferrell as an actor, the commercial shows that the premise and the acting are outrageously over the top. I simply don't waste good time or money on movies like that.
Yet I can almost tell you that the moral of the story will be of redeeming value, involving overcoming prejudice and triumphing over hatreds and biases. So maybe the movie itself will accomplish something that a more subtle telling of a similar story wouldn't.
If you don't know what movie I'm talking about, it's the one where two male figure skating rivals attack each other, are permanently banned from "men's figure skating", and then find a loophole to compete together in pairs. I figure (no pun intended) that the finale of the movie will be them skating the perfect routine and wowing the judges, thus forcing the judges to declare them the winners, to the ultimate adoration of the crowds they've won over. Actually, there's a part of me that wouldn't mind seeing something like that in real life. (Well, not the vicious rivalry and fighting part, but a well-matched pair, regardless of gender.)
Anyway, that earworm of a commercial got me to thinking about the tv show Scrubs. When it first came on, I tried to watch it once or twice. ACK! I absolutely detest such obviously cartoon-like acting. Five minutes, tops, was all I managed. Then my son came home. He likes the show. Being an adult and deciding to act that way, I "suffered" through it ... and have discovered some redeeming value in the process. There's generally a fairly solid life message embedded in the stories told, the kind of message that encourages relationship and growth and acknowledgement of our humanity. Scrubs will probably not rest on my "Top 10 Favorite TV Shows" list, but perhaps I've gotten past a bit of my own bias and prejudice in the process.
You still won't catch me paying money or wasting time to see the Will Ferrell movie!
Then, my eye was caught by a billboard for a local Christian academy, and I began to wonder if there exist any Christian schools that operate from a liberal theology. And, if not, then why haven't liberal Christians started any? There certainly aren't any in this neck of the Bible Belt.
Arriving at home, I pulled out the trusty Google search engine (at any rate, the more familiar to me Google search engine - we at least tend to think alike when searching). First, I tried "Christian school" and liberal. After getting umpty-thousand hits and looking at the first page or two, began shedding entries with words like "arts" and "college" in them. Still too many hits. And most of the ones in the first pages were conservative Christian school diatribes against liberal thought.
That wasn't working. Next tack - "liberal Christian school". That got me to a more manageable 174 hits. However, on the first two pages, most of the hits were either references to colleges or were commentary against liberal Christian schools. If you delete all references to college, you end up with 4 hits, and none of those had to do with actual places of education, but rather the "liberal Christian school of thought" or the like.
Either there aren't any, which probably isn't the case, or they choose not to identify themselves as liberal. Perhaps there's something oxymoronic about the term "liberal Christian school". In any case, it's something for me to ponder at a later date.
Yet I can almost tell you that the moral of the story will be of redeeming value, involving overcoming prejudice and triumphing over hatreds and biases. So maybe the movie itself will accomplish something that a more subtle telling of a similar story wouldn't.
If you don't know what movie I'm talking about, it's the one where two male figure skating rivals attack each other, are permanently banned from "men's figure skating", and then find a loophole to compete together in pairs. I figure (no pun intended) that the finale of the movie will be them skating the perfect routine and wowing the judges, thus forcing the judges to declare them the winners, to the ultimate adoration of the crowds they've won over. Actually, there's a part of me that wouldn't mind seeing something like that in real life. (Well, not the vicious rivalry and fighting part, but a well-matched pair, regardless of gender.)
Anyway, that earworm of a commercial got me to thinking about the tv show Scrubs. When it first came on, I tried to watch it once or twice. ACK! I absolutely detest such obviously cartoon-like acting. Five minutes, tops, was all I managed. Then my son came home. He likes the show. Being an adult and deciding to act that way, I "suffered" through it ... and have discovered some redeeming value in the process. There's generally a fairly solid life message embedded in the stories told, the kind of message that encourages relationship and growth and acknowledgement of our humanity. Scrubs will probably not rest on my "Top 10 Favorite TV Shows" list, but perhaps I've gotten past a bit of my own bias and prejudice in the process.
You still won't catch me paying money or wasting time to see the Will Ferrell movie!
Then, my eye was caught by a billboard for a local Christian academy, and I began to wonder if there exist any Christian schools that operate from a liberal theology. And, if not, then why haven't liberal Christians started any? There certainly aren't any in this neck of the Bible Belt.
Arriving at home, I pulled out the trusty Google search engine (at any rate, the more familiar to me Google search engine - we at least tend to think alike when searching). First, I tried "Christian school" and liberal. After getting umpty-thousand hits and looking at the first page or two, began shedding entries with words like "arts" and "college" in them. Still too many hits. And most of the ones in the first pages were conservative Christian school diatribes against liberal thought.
That wasn't working. Next tack - "liberal Christian school". That got me to a more manageable 174 hits. However, on the first two pages, most of the hits were either references to colleges or were commentary against liberal Christian schools. If you delete all references to college, you end up with 4 hits, and none of those had to do with actual places of education, but rather the "liberal Christian school of thought" or the like.
Either there aren't any, which probably isn't the case, or they choose not to identify themselves as liberal. Perhaps there's something oxymoronic about the term "liberal Christian school". In any case, it's something for me to ponder at a later date.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Booby Smush
Yesterday I took care of an annual obligation. It's not something I particularly enjoy, partly because there is an embarrasing component to it. It's not particularly painful, though there has usually been some discomfort involved. In the grand scheme of things, it's a momentary inconvenience; however, it is vital to one's health and well-being. I went for my mammogram.
It was actually a positive experience!
The Dauphin Center at Memorial Hermann Baptist in Beaumont opened in 2006, so it's pretty new. Sign-in didn't take long at all. When my name was called, I was taken back to the changing area, told to do the usual upper body disrobing, and asked to put my stuff in a locker with a key to take with me.
Figuring I was going to get the usual skimpy scratchy paper gown, I was surprised to see what looked almost like a terrycloth bathrobe waiting in the dressing room. When I picked it up to put it on, I was absolutely astonished. It was warm!! Even though they have to keep the equipment area cool, they were considerate enough to do what they could to keep their patients comfortable.
After changing and locking up my stuff, I had a few minutes before the mammogram. The waiting area was comfortable, with bottled water and coffee available. Now, I don't drink coffee, but if I did ... well, there was a veritable "Starbucks" of choices available. Chocolate coffee, raspberry coffee, mint coffee, about 20 different types to choose from. WOW!
Since I was the second appointment after lunch, I didn't have long to wait. If you've never had a mammogram before, you get to stand next to the x-ray machine while the technician places your boob in the appropriate spot, body draped in semi-awkward position around the machine, then this clear plastic shape is lowered onto the boob, smushing it into the proper configuration. That's the part I've never liked, and it's often been just beyond discomfort into the realm of painful. Not here. The Dauphin Center has a digital mammogram machine and it apparently doesn't have to smush quite as hard as the regular machines do.
Four poses. Four smushes. Four bzzzt's. And it was over. No "wait here for a few minutes while I check to see if the pictures came out ok." No retakes. I was free to change clothes and go. Marvelous!
The staff of the Center was wonderful. Just the right balance of caring and professionalism. I usually figure I'm a rather glorious shade of red throughout the entire experience. Not this time. The people knew what they were doing and went about their business without me feeling I was on the spot and exposed.
Won't have the results back for about a week, so I won't be disclosing either rejoicing or fear right now. I'm not anticipating a negative result, but you never can tell. That's why one's annual mammogram is so important. It's an opportunity to take action early enough to make a difference if there is a problem.
Ladies, please do whatever you have to do to have an annual mammogram. I'm lucky. My insurance thinks it's such an important preventative test that they completely cover the cost. If you don't have insurance, check with your local breast cancer association. There are resources available to cover the cost based on ability to pay, free if you don't have the bucks or insurance. This is important stuff. Please, please, please don't neglect it.
Also, please don't neglect something simple you can do on a monthly basis - a self-exam. If you feel a lump or any abnormality, get thee to a physician ASAP! It may mean the difference between life and death. (OK - some of you may believe you're indestructible and that death is a century or two away. You may be right. Yet you may also be felled by something that seems so trivial as a little blip on a breast. Please don't take any chances.)
And, Gentlemen, while it occurs more rarely in men, this is not a "ladies only" disease. Breast cancer doesn't care about your gender when it decides to strike. That self-exam? Wouldn't hurt for you to do that, too. None of your friends would have to know about it, since you do it in the shower. At the first sign of a lump or bump, get it checked. We ladies enjoy having you around! Wouldn't want to lose you to breast cancer either.
So, ladies, if you haven't done it already, it's 2007. Time to schedule your annual booby smush. *chuckle*
It was actually a positive experience!
The Dauphin Center at Memorial Hermann Baptist in Beaumont opened in 2006, so it's pretty new. Sign-in didn't take long at all. When my name was called, I was taken back to the changing area, told to do the usual upper body disrobing, and asked to put my stuff in a locker with a key to take with me.
Figuring I was going to get the usual skimpy scratchy paper gown, I was surprised to see what looked almost like a terrycloth bathrobe waiting in the dressing room. When I picked it up to put it on, I was absolutely astonished. It was warm!! Even though they have to keep the equipment area cool, they were considerate enough to do what they could to keep their patients comfortable.
After changing and locking up my stuff, I had a few minutes before the mammogram. The waiting area was comfortable, with bottled water and coffee available. Now, I don't drink coffee, but if I did ... well, there was a veritable "Starbucks" of choices available. Chocolate coffee, raspberry coffee, mint coffee, about 20 different types to choose from. WOW!
Since I was the second appointment after lunch, I didn't have long to wait. If you've never had a mammogram before, you get to stand next to the x-ray machine while the technician places your boob in the appropriate spot, body draped in semi-awkward position around the machine, then this clear plastic shape is lowered onto the boob, smushing it into the proper configuration. That's the part I've never liked, and it's often been just beyond discomfort into the realm of painful. Not here. The Dauphin Center has a digital mammogram machine and it apparently doesn't have to smush quite as hard as the regular machines do.
Four poses. Four smushes. Four bzzzt's. And it was over. No "wait here for a few minutes while I check to see if the pictures came out ok." No retakes. I was free to change clothes and go. Marvelous!
The staff of the Center was wonderful. Just the right balance of caring and professionalism. I usually figure I'm a rather glorious shade of red throughout the entire experience. Not this time. The people knew what they were doing and went about their business without me feeling I was on the spot and exposed.
Won't have the results back for about a week, so I won't be disclosing either rejoicing or fear right now. I'm not anticipating a negative result, but you never can tell. That's why one's annual mammogram is so important. It's an opportunity to take action early enough to make a difference if there is a problem.
Ladies, please do whatever you have to do to have an annual mammogram. I'm lucky. My insurance thinks it's such an important preventative test that they completely cover the cost. If you don't have insurance, check with your local breast cancer association. There are resources available to cover the cost based on ability to pay, free if you don't have the bucks or insurance. This is important stuff. Please, please, please don't neglect it.
Also, please don't neglect something simple you can do on a monthly basis - a self-exam. If you feel a lump or any abnormality, get thee to a physician ASAP! It may mean the difference between life and death. (OK - some of you may believe you're indestructible and that death is a century or two away. You may be right. Yet you may also be felled by something that seems so trivial as a little blip on a breast. Please don't take any chances.)
And, Gentlemen, while it occurs more rarely in men, this is not a "ladies only" disease. Breast cancer doesn't care about your gender when it decides to strike. That self-exam? Wouldn't hurt for you to do that, too. None of your friends would have to know about it, since you do it in the shower. At the first sign of a lump or bump, get it checked. We ladies enjoy having you around! Wouldn't want to lose you to breast cancer either.
So, ladies, if you haven't done it already, it's 2007. Time to schedule your annual booby smush. *chuckle*
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