embedded

It is Wednesday.

On Wednesdays I get to sit in this lovely little atrium.  Glass walls and a sloping glass ceiling looking out onto a pleasant flower garden.  The sun shines through the panes over the leaves making little shadows on the thick pile, well padded carpet.

Fashionable, comfortable chairs and sofas. Scattered coffee tables....the copies of The Wall Street Journal, Architectural Digest, and US News and World Report far outnumber the likes of People and Cosmo. Praise God. The table lamps have the less-energy-efficient-old-fashion-light-bulbs.  Not those spiral CFL's that are too bright for my eyes...and remind me of an ugly pig's tail.

There is a rock and water fountain in the corner.  The soft babbling might sound soothing if not for the constant ringing of the telephone:

"Doctors A and Y's office...Betty speaking...."

Wednesday is my Mama's chemotherapy day.

In a fashion similar to some journalist attached to a military unit deployed in active combat...for the past seven weeks we have been embedded in a battle alongside my Mama.

Not completely unexpected...
we knew last December that we'd be in for a fight.

I've taken to taking my laptop with me. It is a several hour visit each week, most of which Mama sleeps through.  No internet access - but hey - my digital photographs are almost all organized and captioned. 

I sit with these folks every Wednesday.  We are an interesting band of accidental comrades...embedded together with our rag tag army of loved ones fighting against cancer. I don't really want to be friends with these people.  I don't really want to know about who they are embedded with.  I don't really want to know their stories.  Most of all...I don't really want to see in their faces the reflection of my own obligatory strength...or my pain...or my fear.

As I type this, I am trying not to eavesdrop on the other conversations in the room. Welllll...that's not quite the truth.  Okay....That in no way even resembles the truth.  The truth is I try not to LOOK as if I am eavesdropping... while actually trying to hear exactly every word they are saying.  (Picture big radar screens rotating on either side of my head.)

Unlike the journalist on the evening news, being embedded puts me in no physical danger. There is no one shooting at me. (In fact, I am the one doing the shooting... although my weapon is a syringe.)

I am not arrogant enough to claim to be out of harm's way.  My Mama's sickness and its symptoms wound me deeply.  Last December I bandaged my wounds tightly...to protect myself from further injury.  It is possible I wrapped them too tightly to heal.  It frightens me to expose them...they may hurt me too much.

I have not been myself.  I have let my life sidetrack. I have become dependant on the wrong things.

The past month....during this most recent skirmish my words have gone AWOL...absent with out leave.  Even now the transfer of thought through fingertip comes out disjointed. My attention span schizoids. There are a dozen half-started posts in my writer that I have little interest in revisiting.

I have been unable to find that voice inside of me that lessens the turmoil in my brain...although I have learned many lessons about the turmoil in my brain.

and yeah...I bring my better angels to every fight...

being a reader...more than a writer....

"Readers may be divided into four classes:

Sponges, who absorb all that they read and return it in nearly the same state, only a little dirtied.

Sand-glasses, who retain nothing and are content to get through a book for the sake of getting through the time.

Strain-bags, who retain merely the dregs of what they read.

Mogul diamonds, equally rare and valuable, who profit by what they read, and enable others to profit by it also. "

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
poet, critic (1772-1834)

which one are you?

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot ~ Operation Aborted

Internet Explorer CANNOT open the site
http://katherine-claire.blogspot.com/

Operation Aborted

Last night while hanging out with my Mama I had the time to take on some LOOOOOONG overdue catchup on my Reader. (HUNDREDS of unread postings)  Time and again that Operation Aborted error window popped up and shut down the weblog I was trying to read.  WTF?  It went from worrisome to highly annoying.  But what really ticked me off was when I couldn't access MY OWN site.  Oh geez. (apparently Miz Mel was having the same sorta problems....eh?)

A little troubleshooting, deleting of cookies, temp files and search history brought NO relief.  I finally thought to cruise by the IE user boards...and right there at the top...a whole slew of folks having the same problem.

Seems SiteMeter made some upgrade which IE won't accept. A quick trip to the dashboard to remove the little script with their logo and counter fixed me up just fine.

There were at least a dozen or so others of my faves I couldn't get to last night. Most of them I could access thru Reader...but couldn't comment. Which is probably okay was I wasn't exactly feeling too clever last night.

I am sure eventually Site Meter will fix the bug...and all will be copasetic once again. (and yeah....I know I could have tried another browser....whatever)

The Needs Meme... and something about a corset.

I have absolutely no time…NO TIME…to be sweltering in the dungeon of Mimi the Queen of Meme’s.  So…I’m gonna honor this tag while waiting for chinese food to be delivered by my darling daughter.  (how is it that this child spends five weeks in Mexico…and still won’t dine at a tacqueria?  aye yi yi…)

Her royal highness Queen Mimi swiped this meme from Shannon's Moments of Introspection who got it from Dawn's Daily Life who got it from... I dunno…someone else….the Queen’s unmentionables were pinching too tightly to give us additional details. 

My brain is too fried to figure out why it is called the “Someone get me out of this Corset meme”  (Mimi? little help here…girl?)


The rules: All you have to do is Google your first name with the word needs behind it and post the results. You’re suppose to tag…IF you are the tagging sort…where I live tagging involves a big wall and half a dozen cans of spray paint…sooooo I’ll pass on tagging…

Apparently most of the katherines who need something that Google links to are:  katherine heigl who plays Izzie on “Grey’s Anatomy”…some story line on “The Young and The Restless”  ... a contestant on “American Idol”...and a town called Lake Katherine.

katherine needs some rules to follow
(ah…no…I don’t think so...thankyouverymuch)

katherine needs another coat
(I most certainly do…
I have coats and jackets like other women have shoes)

katherine needs another cocktail
(amen)

katherine needs to learn how to pass notes
(I got sent to the principal in second grade for passing notes… nowadays it must be texting?)

katherine needs prayer.
(you have no idea…I am in desperate need of prayer these days)

katherine needs help making a budget summary.
(actually it is pretty easy to summarize nothing)

katherine needs to win.
(at SOMEthing… while playing for keeps)

katherine needs a first mate.
(as God intended)

katherine needs to think long and hard about this.
(actually that is part of the problem…
I think too hard and too long about too much)

katherine needs to get over herself...
and stop biting the hand that feeds her
(hmmm…gosh…I hope if there was a hand…I wouldn’t bite it….)

katherine updated katherine’s needs.
(actually I recently did just do exactly that)

What katherine needs more than anything else is a friend.
(a true friend who can be trusted)

katherine needs to get off the morphine.
(this katherine is violently allergic to that stuff)

katherine needs to get it together.
(workin’ on this one….really I am)

katherine needs help with building benches, boardwalks, bridges and more.
(curious….there might actually be something to this....)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot ~ random flying thoughts

why is it that no matter what airport I am in...no matter what airline I am flying....no matter where I am flying to or arriving from...my gate is ALWAYS the very last one at the end of a very very long terminal.
*******************************************************************************
Adding chopped onion and green bell pepper to ketchup does NOT make salsa.
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How can the bar at Detroit Airport be out of Jack???*******************************************************************************
"y'all ain't from around here are ya?" (with an amused glance at my attire)  is only slightly less annoying than  "you must be one of them that's come from California" (which is accompanied by a disapproving sneer)
*******************************************************************************
Since when did the airline start charging extra for exit row, aisle, and window seats? 
*******************************************************************************
Do you think not serving those little bags of peanuts has been detrimental to the peanut industry? *******************************************************************************
I would pay the five dollars for the meals the airline use to served.  I am NOT paying five dollars for stale packaged crackers, fake cheese, a mushy apple, and a mass produced cookie.
******************************************************************************* Lately when I get on an airplane...I think Oceanic Flight 815....I calculate if I am in the nose or tail section....and I look around at the other passengers wondering..."what if.....??" 
*******************************************************************************
Me: excuse me....(tired but friendly, apologetic smile)...but...um...I believe you are in my seat.  (passengers packed in the aisle behind me collide into each other as they come to a screeching halt.)

GQ guy: oh...am I?  are you sure? (smiling sweetly)

Me: pretty much 
(readjusting my backpack which weighs only slightly more than my checked baggage...smile fades from apologetic to annoyed)

GQ guy (just sits there...smirking)

Me: raising my bordering pass between two fingers and raising my eyebrows simultaneously.

Stewardess (Flight Attendant):  is there a problem?
(she glares at me...giving me the glare for impeding the forward motion of other passengers...GQ Guy gets a big sweet smile....)

Me: (stepping between the seats and out of the aisle...eye brows still raised....handing her my boarding pass.)

GQ guy: (still smiling) ...
I would prefer to sit on the aisle.
would that be all right with everyone?

Stewardess (Flight Attendant): to GQ Guy...
"may I see your boarding pass?...you're in the center seat."
(exasperation replaces big sweet smile)

GQ guy: well yes...but I really would prefer the aisle...can you trade us?  (he beams a three hundred watt smile at the flight attendant...I have become invisible to him....)

Stewardess (Flight Attendant):  to Me
"would you be willing to sit someplace else?"

Me:  First Class? (conspiracle tilt of the head)

Stewardess (Flight Attendant): (slowly smiling)....sure. c'mon...
excuse us please...excuse us...(working her way back up the aisle.)

GQ Guy:  hey..wait...I'll move....(starting to stand up)

Me:  (smiling now....little shrug of the shoulders....)
"no really....that aisle seat is all yours."

(too bad it was a short flight and not the three hour leg of the trip!)

a long life...well lived.

When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced.
Live you life in a manner so that when you die...
the world cries...
and you rejoice.
--Native American Proverb

Early yesterday morning...in a restful sleep...my dear Grandfather "Papa" gently passed on.   Born in 1915, he was one of 13 children. (yeah...if you do the math he was 93 years old). He was married to my Gramma for over 67 years, and they had four children...my Momma being the oldest.  I am the third of thirteen grandchildren...and my daughter Rhiannon is the oldest of twelve great-grands.
 
Papa met his death on his own terms.  Until a couple months ago, he drove himself...did laundry and cooking....and took all our money at poker. Following a series of heart attacks he chose to let his body take its own course.

I am sitting here in San Jose Airport in the middle of the night...waiting for the first flight out to Indiana.  I go to represent my Momma...and the California contingent.  I go to celebrate his life....but I go with a heavy heart.  It was difficult to leave my Momma...in the midst of her own battles...even with the support of my step dad and my sister. She has kept her secret for quite a while now...but her absence at this time will totally out her.

I have so many memories of my Papa.  It's a pretty good bet I'll  write some more later. 

The death of someone we know always reminds us that we are still alive...perhaps for some purpose which we ought to re-examine.
~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook

this week's vocabulary list

pulmonary

oncology

gastroenterology

urology

gynecology

cardiology

rheumatology

endocrinology

for the past week my Mama has been battling on several fronts...a team of no fewer than 15 doctors have run her through a battery of tests to figure out the myriad of causes resulting in a whole slew of attacks that converged on her tiny frame all at the same time. 

have I ever mentioned how much I hate hanging out in hospitals ?
especially ones with NO internet access????

wordless wednesday ~ flores encantadoras dos

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot ~ the Supremes

Most of us Americans can name the President (no offense to ILTV and david) ...some of you can name your Congressmen...and maybe even your Representative.  But how many of us can name the Justices of the Supreme Court who sit in these seats?

We tend to pay more attention to the executive and legislative branches of our government...probably because we vote for them....however the judicial branch has much greater responsibility and power.

Last week the Supreme Court of the United States ruled on several high profile cases. One of their decisions I accepted with raised eyebrows and a nod of agreement. Another one caused me to look up and exclaim..."are they OUT of their e-phn minds?"

BOTH decisions surprised me. 
If I had bets placed...I would have lost big time.
In both cases I think the Supremes should allow the States to define their individual laws.

 

the Supremes for the most part rule on some other court's previous decision.  They almost never hear a case of their own. 

I am an emphatic proponent of States' rights.

And I can not beLIEVE I can only name five of the nine justices off the top of my head.  That is embarrassing....
(see below....you gotta love Google)

The first case....in a 5-4 decision...determined the handgun ban in Washington DC was unconstitutional.

(this is the one I agree with...while not a direct descendant of Charleton Heston...I do want the right to have a gun...and in this case...when put up against the second amendment, the DC handgun ban did indeed strike me as unconstitutional.)

This decision is the FIRST TIME the second amendment has been legally defined since it was written by our founding fathers some 217 years ago.  Whoa.

Washington DC has had this handgun banning law in place for over 30 years...who knew?  I wonder how many other states have this sort of law?  Not California.

I always get a little confused by the status of DC...they are for the most part like a state...but they don't get a star on the flag...cause the Capitol belongs to all of us?  Is that how it works?  So...then...what is the deal with Puerto Rico?

The second decision was also 5-4...and one I completely disagree with on a personal level.  The Supremes ruled that states can mandate the death penalty for crimes such as "treason, espionage, terrorism, and drug kingpin activity, which are offenses against the state," and as you all know, states have the option of the death penalty for murder....however "As it relates to crimes against individuals, the death penalty should not be expanded to instances where the victim's life was not taken."

Which in this case means... a convicted child rapist can not be given the death penalty unless they actually kill their victim. Personally I think all child molesters should be taken out into the street and suffer a long, slow, tortuous death. For a child rapist there is no such thing as too much pain and suffering.

While it was Louisiana's law that was struck down by the higher court...other states had similar laws ( Montana, South Carolina, Oklahoma, and Texas). You may remember in 1977 the Supremes ruled that the death penalty could not be used as punishment against an adult woman.

While these two cases are significant in their own right...what these decisions really mean to me is much more far reaching. The Supreme Court will uphold the states' option to choose the death penalty for the taking of a life. And the rights of the individual as defined by the constitution are paramount.

(can you name which supreme is on the court steps??)

Chief Justice
John Roberts ~ 53 years old  from Maryland
appointed by GW Bush ~ seated in 2005

Associate Justices
John Stevens ~ 88 years old from Illinois
appointed by Ford  ~ seated in 1975

Antonin Scalia  ~ 72 years old from Virginia
appointed by Reagan ~ seated in 1986

Anthony Kennedy ~ 71 years old from California
appointed by Reagan ~ seated in 1988

David Souter ~ 68 years old from New Hampshire
appointed by GHW Bush ~ seated in 1990

Clarence Thomas ~ 60 years old from Georgia
appointed by GHW Bush ~ seated in 1991

Ruth Bader Ginsburg ~ 75 years old from New York
appointed by Clinton ~ seated in 1993

Steven Breyer ~ 69 years old from Massachusetts
appointed by Clinton ~ seated in 1994

Samuel Anthony Alito ~ 58 years old from New Jersey
appointed by  GW Bush ~ seated in 2006

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

Far too many things have gotten to me lately.
Upset me.
Angered me.
Incensed me.
Outraged me.
Incredulated me.

Most of the stuff I can do nothing about...
but still....it is getting to me.

I realize I have very little personal bandwidth available. I got a lot going on.  Three people whom I love very dearly are lined up on the tarmac getting ready to take off into the next life.  I can't find the type of job that ignites my interest...truth of the matter, I don't even know what it would be.  Someone I care about has gotten so caught up in their hurt...and their fear of hurt....that they have become detrimental.  And while I encouraged and enabled them to go...both my girls are immersing themselves in the language and culture of Mexico....for FIVE weeks. 

I need to vent every now and then...well...maybe more often than that. For the next few weeks...randomly...off and on...I'm gonna use this little weblog as an outlet for my outrage and create a series of posts I fondly think of as:

               "What-The-Fuck? Thursday"

Not wanting to constantly offend my gentle readers (and 'cause WTF strikes me as wimpy) ...I oh-so-cleverly revert to pilot-speak:

                       Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

the color scheme is no accident...or Independence Day theme...a lot of what is ticking me off has to do with the country, our politics and the presidential elections....et cetera.

My readers are a vastly different lot...and rather intelligent.
Perhaps it will get interesting...

(I just know The Teamster read the title and thought: "cool....if I buy her a Jack or two....we can go dancing this weekend..." )

wordless wednesday ~ flores encantadoras

manic monday with mo ~ pride

Yesterday we headed to San Francisco to meet up with some friends to hike around Golden Gate Park. Coincidentally...it was also one of the country's largest Gay Pride celebrations.

We were in the area of the parade several hours before the festivities ....just as the booths were starting to set up. I was curious to note how many vendors had special marketing collateral specifically for the event.

Every company had picked up on the rainbow theme...but these two caught my eye as being rather clever. While I wish we had been able to stay longer ....prior obligations beckoned us to the other end of town.

other manic monday minions are mentioned at Mo's

photo hunting ~ bright

Last Sunday, after taking Lile home to Lake Tahoe....we took the long way through the back roads of Highway 4. Dropping into the valley we saw this amazing sunset. Although beautiful...it was created by the dense smoke from the many wild fires burning in this part of California. While the sunset was stunning over this farmstead...it reminds me of the devastation elsewhere....

(the photograph is totally untouched and un"shopped"...it portrays exactly how the sun looks thru the blanket of smoke that hovers everywhere)

It has been quite a while since I participated in Tennessee Chick's Saturday Photo Hunt. I have looking at this picture for the past few days....and thought it would be fit this week's theme of "Bright." Take a moment to visit some of her other photo hunters...

The Alpha Bitch

This is Lile
(pronounced lil eee)
She is on summer visitation with her Dad…
and went camping with us for a few days.

Ten years old….golden and husky mix…just about the sweetest puppy you’d ever want to know…

Never resting protector from raccoons, squirrels, deer, steller jays, and rattlesnakes…

Places to Go Things to See People to Meet

Dating in your forties has some distinct advantages.

One benefit is that you get to go lots of really interesting places and meet all kinds of new people. Here is a brief synopsis of one couple’s past week. It works better with charts and string lines…but oh well…just read slowly.

Boyfriend goes with Girlfriend to help her daughter move (following daughter’s six week nightingale tour with great grandpa) with the aid of Girlfriend’s ex-husband, Girlfriend’s mother and daughter’s half brother. Girlfriend and ex-husband last met at daughter’s college graduation. Ex-husband’s current wife doesn’t attend…but is helpful and supportive from 400 miles away. Girlfriend walks away laughing at the sight of ex-husband and Boyfriend lying down next to each other. (okay…okay…they were on the floor peering under the washer discussing the best way to disconnect…but still….) At the end of the day ex-husband and father of Girlfriend’s daughter is highly appreciative of Boyfriend’s packing and truck driving abilities. Even dinner was an enjoyable event.

Boyfriend attends Girlfriend’s stepson’s high school graduation with assorted members of Girlfriend's family....Girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend’s family…as well as family of Girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend’s deceased wife. Following ceremony they also attend graduation party at ex-boyfriend’s home where Girlfriend use to live. Girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend is an old friend. She wants to talk about the whacked-girlfriend in between, against whom we all have a TRO. Boyfriend is scrutinized by Girlfriend’s stepson’s deceased mother’s family. Boyfriend spends the better part of two hours hangin’ with Girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend’s brother looking at Harleys and talkin’ aftermarket upgrades. All may be riding together to Hollister for the 4th.

Girlfriend accompanies Boyfriend to his stepson’s college graduation festivities. Girlfriend gets to hang with both of boyfriend’s second-ex-wife’s ex-husbands and her current boyfriend at the home of the second-ex-wife’s first husband (father of the graduate) and his current wife. Families of Boyfriend, his second-ex-wife and her first-ex-husband are all represented. Girlfriend of Boyfriend…and boyfriend of second-ex-wife are too far down the food chain to warrant a ticket to the ceremony. So…Girlfriend hangs with Boyfriend’s younger Airforce son (who flew in just for the weekend) for a few hours...all over town. Girlfriend’s daughter (see above) graduated from the same university a couple years ago. All families are sweetly friendly and overly welcoming to Girlfriend in a manner meant to covey to Boyfriend that he is still a beloved member of their family. Girlfriend enters the twilight zone.

Boyfriend, Boyfriend’s father, and Boyfriend’s sons do manly activities for Fathers’ Day. Girlfriend hangs out with Boyfriend’s mother…helping her with her blog….and reviewing the 200 plus photographs that Girlfriend took at the wedding of Boyfriend’s older son and new daughter-in-law. (that was the week before)

Girlfriend and Boyfriend take Boyfriend’s dog from Boyfriend’s second ex-wife for a few days camping in the Redwoods.

Big Basin Redwoods.
Three Days.

No cellphone coverage.
No internet access.
No ex’s.
No Jerry Springer.

Just the Twilight Zone.

commenting back

Not wanting Mateo…or anyone else to “gaze in perplexion” at the comment left on my previous post…here are my thoughts.

At first it was kinda bizarre and out of place. An anonymous visitor in my comment section detailing a theory has to why OJ Simpson would have felt the need to butcher the mother of his young children … leaving her mutilated body and that of another for them to find.

I could tell right away that it wasn’t just spam as Anonymous begins by mentioning what I have said about meeting Mr. Simpson a few times…and watching the entire trial.

Then it dawned on me…confirmed by a quick search…this is a subject I’ve never written about on my own web log. Ah ha…the plot thickens

I fairly certain I may have at some time Congressman, commented on someone’s else’s blog with my opinion of this heinous crime and miscarriage of justice. To the best of my recollection Senator, I have a murky memory of mentioning it on a blogtalkradio show….but gotta admit I don’t know which one. I listen sporadically to a handful…and have called in to two or three. Either way…it’s been a while since I have mentioned any of my thoughts or opinions on this matter.

In my offline life there is a dropdead certainty I have categorically stated my opinion on the clusterfuck of a murder trial that resulted in one of the most shockingly horrific displays of juror imprudence. So…I am not sure how or where or when Anonymous came to know me. And I do not know why Anonymous does not want me to know them. But I am a big proponent of free speech….and I honor their right to do so.

(taking a very deep breath)

I really do not think that even if Ron Lyle Goldman was personally shoving drugs down Nicole Brown Simpson’s throat (or that of her children) it changes the situation one bit.

Even if Goldman was not the golden boy depicted…and even if he was the biggest drug dealer in all of Los Angeles County his crime pales in comparison to the brutal slashing that occurred.

There is no provocation bad enough to justify what happened.

Having done 15-20 in the greater Los Angeles area skirting the edges of the entertainment industry, I can attest to the fringe society that hovers around the rich and famous. The combination of money and immorality (in addition to fame and power) can be seductive. It is pervasive and attractive. You can not be anywhere near the entertainment industry and not be exposed to it.

I have no reason to dispute all that my unknown commenter claims about Ron Lyle Goldman, his history, his crimes, or his reason for being at Nicole Simpson’s home that evening. I do know that if OJS was indeed concerned about his children being exposed to that type of drug culture….it would have been pretty easy to prove the situation and gain custody of his children.

Somehow I think having their mother murdered in that manner….and living as they live now…with their father… quite possibly the man who committed that crime…is a far worse life.

The court system failed Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Lyle Goldman. It failed those children. I don’t care what the provocation was.

Ecclesiastes and Etymology

to everything there is a season….
…and a time to every purpose under heaven.

I am thankful to be given this season.
I am grateful to be given this time.

a time to weep
a time to laugh
a time to mourn
a time to dance

when autumn comes I want to be laughing
and dancing…

a time to cast away stones…
and a time to gather stones together

I’m gonna keep track of the Summer

yesterday I sorta started a journey…
(and rather surprisingly to me)
yesterday I sorta started a journal

any etymologist out there?
who can connect journal and journey?

a time to rend
a time to sew
a time to keep silence
a time to speak

I am not much of a journal-ist and certainly have never been known to keep a diary. I’ve had a few…but it was the locked book concept that drew me…not the idea of jotting down my thoughts.

There are pages I wrote when I lost my brother and pages I wrote when I lost my best friend. Those pages served to articulate into order and logic the overwhelming crashing of emotion and circumstance which threatened to implode in my brain. Articulation soothed my pain.

a time to kill
a time to heal
a time to break down
a time to build up

I can’t promise healing.
I won’t promise damage repair.
I can promise to not break down.
I faithfully promise to build up

in a book I will articulate summers journey

to everything there is a season….
…and a time to every purpose under heaven.

Dona Nobis Pacem

today I join the international celebration:

Blog Blast for Peace

The official site can be found HERE.
You can select a template and post your very own globe.

Mimi Lenox is an amazing woman who has taken the cause of Peace to an unbelievable level within the weblog world. Her everyday blog is a funny, touching...sometimes heart tugging tale of her life and love and Bloggingham Palace. However Mimi's Thirty Reasons to fly a Peace Globe detailed horrific, international situations to strive for Peace. She has inspired bloggers from around the world to join in their own personal way to stand for Peace.

Take a minute....go to the Blog Search page and enter:
"Dona Nobis Pacem"
You will be truly amazed.

Mimi, you have given thousands of people a heart for peace
and truly fulfilled the legacy of your Grandfather.

sword or shovel......blade as spade

There is not much of me that is part time.
I am not comfortable with the temporary.
I like the force behind the phrase “full-on”

I want my transitions short…and specific.
I want my segues strong…not soft.

I read manuals
I study roadmaps
recherche is research
I like to KNOW.

I do not act normal.
I loathe ordinary.

Now I realize…stagnation has made me less.

The whole “give it time” concept is unnatural
( if not completely unpalatable.)
Patience is what I have for others.
Patience is NOT something I have for myself.

While I embrace what comes from grey matter…
There is no grey area in MY heart.

Anger is my default.
I have crossed swords with the best of them.
Righteous indignation is my powerful friend.
Humor is my shield.
Anger is easier to feel than heartbreak.

However, I made a promise to a man….
and a vow to God…
that just this once
I would not resort to anger.

Not an easy vow to keep.

While cleaning out my “book” I came across a scrap of paper with a bit of wild child wisdom from another time. No doubt it was meant for me to read again today.

Although her namesake became the Lady of the Lake….
and handed Excalibur to Arthur…
(who also preferred to display anger over heartbreak)
to me this wise child handed a shovel and admonished:

“You’ve had too many mountains moved in your life.

You’ve never had to make mountains move
shovel full by shovel full.

You have just always pushed…and they have moved.

You need to look at things in terms of the real world.

Not in terms of how our lives have been."

I need to ask her if I can use the blade as a spade…
just in case…
cause sometimes I lean toward joel (3:10)
and sometimes to micah and Isaiah (4:3 2:4)

(and mija....what were the eight words?)

Indy. Indy. Indy.

Saturday we went to see Indiana Jones.
Sunday we watched the Indianapolis 500.

And yesterday in Indiana...
in a quiet respectful voice…the doctor said,
“Mr. Lynch, now it is time for you to decide where you want to die.”

Just like that...he gets to decide.
In the hospital...or someplace else.

Five weeks ago I agreed my girl should be the one to go to Indiana to care for her Great-Grandfather when he returned home from his heart attack. She is the oldest of the twelve “great-grands”. She has always been close to him. She had a window of time not claimed by other obligations and stepped up. The experience of care giving and helping him during this process will be with her for the rest of her life. Not many twenty-six year olds get to know their Great-grandparents…she had seven living Great-grandparents when she was born. She was able to know five of them. She is especially close to this one. Not many people of any age help prepare a loved one for death.

The past few weeks have been filled with stories of doctor visits, medical tests, drugs, shower scenes, arguments, laughter…the little details of life. (hmmmm…maybe I should post her updates.) At his last doctor’s office visit a couple weeks ago, my Grandfather reiterated his decision not to pursue angioplasty…and accepted the inevitable consequences. As my Grandfather was leaving…the doctor stood and told him, “Mr Lynch, I honor you”

A few days ago in the middle of the night, the nitro and the oxygen no longer alleviated his breathing difficulties...so a couple of really nice EMT’s came over to stabilize what they could and provide the 45 minute ride through the back roads of rural Indiana.

“Granddaughter?” They asked.
“no” shaking her head “GREAT-granddaughter”
(met with raised eyebrows)

“You live here?”
“No…I live in California…I’m just here for a few weeks”
(more eye brow action…turns out the EMT did a cross country motorcycle trip which included riding up the west coast from southern California to Alaska…)

Hospital Admission. Tests and Drugs. Palliative Care.

Without going into all the medical lingo of atria and ventricles...the best analogy we’ve been given is that of a six cylinder engine. Up until April his heart was running on all six cylinders. After the heart attacks he was running on three…maybe four. Since then the damage done by the heart attacks…plus the fact that his heart has been running the show for over 93 years…have left him running on a single cylinder. And the timing is off. And the muscle deterioration continues. The domino effect leads to failure of other organs and systems. But not his brain.

Still conscious. Still cognizant. Still fighting. Still living.

My Mama has gotten on a plane …well wrapped in denial.
Because yesterday…in a quiet respectful voice…the doctor said,
“Mr. Lynch, now it is time for you to decide where you want to die.”

My Grandfather answered the doctor by saying that yes…he knows his time is short. And in my mind…I can hear him...without being there I know EXACTLY his tone of voice.

The doctor said “go…die surrounded by your family in comfort.”

I wonder what it must be like. Fully aware your heart slowing down. Fighting to breathe and for the strength to say only a few words. Having decided not to have the procedure…do you wait for the symptoms to take over? Is there fear? Is there joy? Do you embrace it? Welcome it? Do you try and take control…or do you allow yourself to let go? Is it the ultimate acceptance?

And how do you watch him go through this...
your father, your grandfather, your great grandfather?

far from the fire...

Thanks for the concern....I live in town... quite a ways from the fire and flames....

I have several friends under mandatory evacuation as of this morning....and pray their homes are not in the fire's destructive path. The air quality warnings are out especially for seniors and children. Arnold has declared a state of emergency.

Thousands of acres have been and will be destroyed. Containment isn't anticipated until late tomorrow evening.

Santa Cruz Mountain Fire

My Offline Life ?

I’ve been mulling over the term “real life” lately.

Specifically what I mean when I refer to my “real life” as opposed to my “online life.”

What is my real life?
Is it only the portion contained in Bricks and Mortar?

I didn’t really consider whether or not my online life was just as real as my offline life until Miz Turnbaby got her ass all chapped last week and decided to make it the subject of her weekly Blog Talk Radio extravaganza. Before Turn’s callin’ me out, if was merely part of my vernacular.

For me….online communication…and friendships…exist in a different realm. Not that the people I know and love in the blogosphere are any less “real”…they just exist in a different realm…almost a different dimension. Rarely am I exposed to the tone or inflection of their voice, the expressions of their face, or the gestures of the body. (One of the reasons I started listening to BlogTalkRadio was to hear the voices of the people I read.)

One of my very favorite web logs has never shown the face of the author. I quote her…and pray for her….and visit her site almost everyday. I consider her a true friend…and very real….but is she part of my “real life”? Kinda. The pieces I take from her blog cross over into “other” parts of my life.

I am a multi tour veteran of online dating. (all the major league sites…and a couple of the minors) I think it is fraught with danger. Liars, cheats and thieves fill out profiles luring unsuspecting men and women. However, I truly believe it is a valuable tool for single adults in all walks of life. For my part, I met quite a few men who were not in person as they were online. Meeting online is just not the same as meeting in person. I met a few who were exactly who they claimed…but with whom I just did not click. They seemed nice enough in email…in chat and on the telephone…but when I met them in person…eh....not what I thought.

Some of you know I had adamantly opposed a long distance relationship. I am not the type well suited to a part time gig. If I had met a man…no matter how attractive to me... who lived a couple hours away….I would have said no way. However I met one online…and a series of significant emails caused me to reconsider. (if you are so inclined… see the links at the end of this post to read the articulate, heartfelt messages The Teamster used to convince me….) Granted until I met him face to face….I had no idea if my impression of him was “real" or not…but if we had first met in “real life” I would have never considered the possibilities.

My family belongs to many online communities, FaceBook, MySpace, GoodReads, LinkedIn to name a few. Some of my weblog friends have crossed over into these venues as well. Does that multiple connection make them more “real” to me….probably not.

You may have read of my meeting Sandee and Linda in real life…(sorry Turnbaby…in person). I have to admit…they are more real to me now having spent a couple hours over dinner with them than before. They were both real to me before…but now…more real.

Just like you all are “real” to me. The personal insights I glean from your writing and your photographs. The private details you share about your life…the good stuff and the bad. The way you comment on other blogs… the blogs I read in common with you. What you hint at and allude to…and what you never blog about at all….provide me a framework of who you are.

Many people (in all demographics) do not invest a great deal of time or effort into the world wide web. They have no online presence…and indeed our blogosphere is unreal to them. Most of the world has no access…for many reasons. They could not consider our blog world as being real life. Many people I know have only heard the horror stories and view the internet as a more efficient delivery method for gossip and pornography (paraphrasing Leo McGarry). I found this funny little video giving examples of "real life vs the internet" which conveys a bit of truth.





The definition of “real life” is changing in our culture. As with everything the degree of reality in your online life depends of what you put into it. And what you get out of it. My online, two-dimensional, virtual, internet life is very real indeed.

For those of you who are fans of the rapper “Plies” the CD “Definition of Real” is scheduled to be released on 10 June 2008.…I‘ve never heard his stuff….but hey…he‘s thinking about "real life" too.

Post Script:
Craig...The Serotinous Man...has expanded (expounded?) on his comment to this post...

"we have created an environment that is causing us to expand our understanding of consciousness, communication, relationship, connectivity, and even humanity - especially blogger's C;). "

He always has some interesting thoughts....you might want to check him out...

The Teamster emails….
get “REAL”...If you actually scrolled down here to look…shame on you. I was joking! Sheesh…even people in my 3D life don’t get to read those…

Comedy and Connecticut at Cancun

What great fun we had at dinner!

Linda of Are We There Yet visiting all the way from Connecticut. She was the catalyst for bringing us all to dinner at the delectable Cancun in Stockton.

Her fun and funny friend Cyndi who lured her back to California for a visit (atta girl Cyndi - THANKS!) Yeah it’s a little odd to always be taking pictures of our food and everything else. Thank you for arranging the spectacular fireworks show just for Linda!!!

Sandee of Comedy Plus with the funniest side comments ever (“she must have teeth down there“) Commodore?

Mr History who only says “its her story“…not much else…but doesn’t miss a thing! (I kept wondering if he was profiling each of us…can I get a copy of the report?)

(I was right…those two are totally lovey dovey and gitchey gooey)

The Teamster accommodating, amused, and all around good guy. He now has two more blogs to read…

And me…..who’s camera had dead batteries…can you beLIEVE that? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.

It was the first time my weblog world crossed through the looking glass into my brick and mortar life.

It was interesting to me (having never met these guys) how much we knew of the personal details of each other’s private lives. Previous posts kept popping up in my mind. And of course we talked about some of you who weren’t at the table…..laughing. I think the restaurant is considering a new policy of no flash photography.

Truly…I totally enjoyed meeting all of you. The time went by so quickly. Linda…enjoy the rest of your visit…whether it includes Tahoe or Yosemite or or Bakersfield or “J”. Sandee…we look forward to Isleton Joes!

all right already....pass me the bottle

I was in need of the Pacific. I had been away the better part of April...and while we visited beautiful...wonderful...awe-inspiring locales....I needed MY ocean. Early yesterday morning I walked over. To one side...in the early light of dawn...I saw an odd glimmer.


A huge pile of bottles...each with a message inside.

Suddenly.... from the distance I heard the rattle of keys...and then that haunting, melancholy piano melody known only to those of us who have had the misfortune of being imprisoned in deep, dark, dank, dungeon of Blogginham Castle.

Knowing what fate would befall me if I did not act quickly.....I pulled my laptop from my backpack. I had been tagged for The Message In A Bottle meme sometime in the late 1980's by her majesty Queen Mimi. I was in big trouble. Half the known blogosphere had complied and the special weblog established for this purpose had overflowed onto my beach.

And although I can righteously claim a multitude of reasons and excuses....in many ways I put this one off. The entire concept has been forever tainted in my mind by the book "Message In A Bottle"...it seemed only fitting to draw my message from that work.

"If some lives form a perfect circle

others take shape in ways we cannot predict

or always understand.

Loss has been a part of my journey.

But it has also shown me what is precious.

So has love...for which I can only be grateful"

as said by Theresa Osborne in the novel "Message In A Bottle"

by Nicolas Sparks.

Here's the gig:

1. Compose a message to place in your virtual bottle

2. Right click and Save the graphic above (the empty one)

3. Use a graphics program of your choice to place the message on the picture

4. Return your anonymous "Message In a Bottle" to Mimi via email at sendmessageinabottle@yahoo.com

5. Your virtual bottle will remain afloat in the Blogosphere Ocean for all blogernity. You may post the virtual bottle on your own website as long as a direct link is placed back to the Message in a Bottle blog. The graphic may not be altered. Your submission will be numbered and dated. Send in as many as you'd like. If you choose to remain anonymous, no identifying information will EVER be disclosed to anyone. You can also choose NOT to be anonymous in which case Mimi will post the name and url of your website.

so....today is your birthday....

shhhh....it's not widely known...cause no one is allowed to celebrate
wtf? he came to my birthday gig..and I hate them more than he does
nevertheless...today is his birthday.



Thought Provoking
Harley Riding
Enthusiastically Motivated

Thanks Giving
Easy Going
Adventure Seeking
Movie Watching
Sensual Loving
Touch Giving
Esoteric
Romantic

my heart with rapture thrills....

My country,' tis of thee,
sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing;
land where my fathers died,
land of the pilgrims' pride,
from every mountainside

let freedom ring!

My native country, thee,
land of the noble free, thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
thy woods and templed hills;
my heart with rapture thrills, like that above.

(My Country Tis of Thee)

What difference if I hail from North or South
Or from the East or West
My heart is full of love for all of these.
I only know I swell with pride and deep within my breast,
I thrill to see old glory paint the breeze!

This is my country! Land of my choice!
This is my country! Hear my proud voice!
I pledge thee my allegiance, America, the bold,
For this is my country to have and to hold.

(This Is My Country)

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!

America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

(America, The Beautiful)


God bless America,
Land that I love,
Stand beside her and guide her
Thru the night with a light from above;

(God Bless America)


And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

(The United States of America National Anthem)

(just back from Florida and DC....more later...the Jefferson and Washington Monument photos were taken by the Teamster...)

Wordless Wednesday ~ all gone...time to go home.

so....how many cousins does it take...

Today's big event in Flora....we had visitors from Kokomo...

How many cousins DOES it take to change a lightbulb?

apparently two with an audience of five...even then it took an hour....(to be fair the set screws had detached from the interior of the light fixture) This is my daughter and my first cousin who collaborated to reassemble this hanging lamp...

I'm not a city girl....but this is ridiculous

This was the highpoint of our morning....when the squirrel temporarily evicted the birds so he could have a bit of breakfast. Not a great shot...through the rain splattered window and all...but even I was alarmingly excited to have something different to look at.

I had never spent much time here in Flora. Until recently my Papa lived in Lafayette...which is not only the county seat...but is also home to Purdue University. (go Boilermakers). I know Lafayette. I know where to find things. I have several hangouts I can escape to. I know people there. I miss Lafayette.

Just about 2200 people live here in Flora. No coffee shops. No dry cleaners. No movie theaters. Not a single stoplight. I can't even find a bar. I did however have my choice of fourteen different churches yesterday. (We went with Methodist...although I was a bit curious about the Amish service....)

The biggest drawback is sketchy, damn near non-existent cell service...and just about no internet access. The only wireless is at the library...which is a way cool library with very modern, comfortable, overstuffed chairs and sofas...but very limited hours of operation.

Papa (which is my grandfather...not my father....smile) is doing very well for having two heart attacks just a week ago...roller coaster blood sugar readings...and three generations of caregivers (in addition to his girlfriend) hovering around constantly asking him if he needs or wants anything. He says he is "plum wore out" but wants to live to at least 94.

A little over a year ago when I first started my weblog...I wrote this little post about his moving...it has a picture of us together which I think I'm gonna print out and put in a frame.

I can not tell you how much I appreciate the words, wishes, thoughts and prayers you all have sent our way. It's given me a warm, calm spirit...which you can be sure the rest of my family appreciates....almost as much as I do.

never underestimate the power of persuasion

Papa yesterday...in the hospital, wiping his hands after eating.

Papa yesterday....AT HOME playing cards with my cousins.

Papa talked his way out of the hospital yesterday morning. We were all totally caught off guard and unprepared. The night before the cardiologist had told us he would probably be a couple more days. My aunt put the poor staff through the ringer. My Mama called the doctors to get the scoop....confirm meds....and schedule home care.

Papa thinks he is escaping...they think they are letting him go home to die. Truth be told....he thinks that too. He has refused all the necessary tests cause he has decided he is NOT gonna have an angioplasty. He'll take the drugs...try and eat right...get some exercise...but he sees no need to be having the procedure.

So....the prognosis is not good. His heart is failing. But his mind is still very sharp and he is very stubborn (family trait.) My Papa knows what he wants. Even if it makes us all scared and very sad, our family has chosen to respect his decision.

In some ways I think I would like to be 93 years old...and be able to say "enough already...I've had a good life....I'm ready to go"

In many ways...that is a blessing.

Obama in Lafayette

I didn't have a chance to look at the local paper here in Lafayette, Indiana until late in the day....I glanced at the headline...and did a double take. Candidate Obama (Barry to his buds) is gonna be in town....TODAY!

"Hey....let's invite Obama to visit Papa!" I announce in the somewhat crowded hospital room. It's usually standing room only and it has taken us a day to relax in each others company. Everyone looks at me like I am out of my e-phn mind. Truly most of the time they look at me as if I am out of my e-phn mind...so I keep going.

"He's gonna be 93 in a week...we have four generations of registered voters in three (or four?) parties visiting from seven different states....c'mon...they would love us...you KNOW they would come"

One of my aunts shakes her head....she's known all along I would come to no good. My uncle has that bemused look on his face....he is the only one in the family who is a bigger smart ass than I am. My Mama gives me exasperated....and patiently explains that there is at least one person in the room who would throw Obama out the minute he crossed the threshold.

Now personally...I'm not voting for the guy...but still...why not? I'm getting really stircrazy sitting in the hospital and hotel....and they all know....that is when the trouble starts....

(update: Papa is doing pretty good...no more heart pains...having a hard time keeping his blood sugar at a safe level...but other than that he is good.)

Did you see me? I was waving!

I flew over a lot of you guys today!
(and boy are my arms tired...ba-dum dum)

starting out in Santa Cruz, California
SJC
DET
MSP
IND
ending up in Lafayette, Indiana

all is fine...but I am way trashed from thirteen plus hours of traveling. My almost 93 year old Papa (my maternal Grampa) had a heart attack early Monday morning...and he told everyone they should come "home"....so as many of us as could, did.

We spent time with him tonight...he says he is ready to be discharged from the hospital tomorrow...not so sure the doctors will go along with Papa on this one. He is also trying to cajole one of us into smuggling in a hit of Jack for him. Not to worry...I am willing to bet a least four people will abide by his request.

While flying out today.... a great remembrance that Gene (brother of Jeff) posted a couple weeks ago came to my mind. It is about their Grandpa Lynch. I encourage any of you who have living grandparents... or senior aged friends... aunts... uncles... whatever... give 'em a call (or a visit if you can) just to say hey.

rolling.....rolling....

Each of us plays a role in our family.

It may be a work family, an adopted family, a blended family, a biological family or even a blog family.

Doesn’t matter…we each have a role.
Sometimes they change.
Most times they don’t.

I didn’t originally choose my role in my family. It was assigned to me by my Father, back in the day when I didn’t have a choice…I was a young child and the circumstances evolved as they often do. Mandated by necessity….dictated by birth order.

Most certainly as a teenager I reveled in my role. I took wholehearted advantage of it. I benefited from having the power and I loved having the influence (which most of you know is even better than power.)

As an adult….I have…at times decided to maintain my role. Not always…but more often than not…I have maintained my role. Not so much with the power and influence anymore…now it’s about responsibility. It is about being linear. It is about being strong. Providing options, exploring contingencies, encouraging decisions.

With full knowledge (or at least a significant portion of that knowledge) I acknowledge that I am still choosing this role. My choice. Me. All mine. Most of the time I don’t even have to be called upon…I just step into my role. (or take a blind flying leap onto the spiraling out-of-control merry-go-round)

Sometimes….like this morning…I am drafted into service
“What are you going to do?”

When I have to answer, “I don’t know yet” the response is immediate…. “why not? What are you waiting for?” (and in my mind I answer…well damn…first I am gonna walk through the door and get more data than I had ten minutes ago when I got the call)

That person who wants you to step up, (so they don’t have to) to take on the mantle of your role… then they want to tell you exactly how to play it out. I bit my tongue so as not to ask…. “well what are YOU gonna do?” Not the time to be crossing swords.

Late at night…by myself…very quietly…I complain at what it costs me. I wonder who I can pass some of the burden off to… my sister?… my step dad?… my uncle? Arrogant bitch that I am…none of the options seem viable.

So…again I choose my role. It’s the role I really want afterall. I wouldn’t be happy playing a different one. If I didn’t play this role…at the end of the day I would be compelled to take it back.

I best be callin' on my better angels...all of them....

(on the other hand, the next time someone asks me what role I REALLY want…I’m truly gonna tell them Pillsbury’s Orange Danish thankyouverymuch)

Wordless Wednesday ~ golf can be so draining