iris/irishgoddess

bible study

2011-01-30T12:28:00.000-08:00

Christmas Eve services. Zoe said, "I can't wear jeans to church, it says so in the bible." Aidan say, "I don't know the stories, sometimes it gets very awkward when you are singing about stuff you never heard of." So we are starting a bible study.

Yes, me, a former Catholic and my two grandchildren who now are proud owners of their own bibles complete with study notes. Possibly one, two, or three of my daughters. In Catholicism, reading on your own and trying to comprehend was not encouraged. But we are going for it. We are jumping around, reading what we want or need to. I hate to admit it, but being led by the Spirit. That would freak out all the members of our group. So, randomly choosing to read.

We of course started in the beginning. First four chapters of Genesis. We thought the first two but were intriqued by the sin of chapter 3 and the murder in chapter 4.
It is all on email so everyone can comment when they can. No pressure of time committment.

Zoe and Aidan were fascinated in Chapter one with the evolution vs creationism debates. I hedge with a morphing of the two. I was so excited to see in my study guide that the sin chapter is sometimes referred to the relationship or respect for loved ones chapter. Chapter four as the fellowhip of man.

We are going next to do a point of view study. Comparing a same story written in different books of the bible. Kind of like all the stuff we will share. Points of view from the spots in our relationships with our loving Lord. What a nice way to get to know each other again.

Sizzlling Car

2010-11-06T08:14:00.000-07:00

I have been driving my daughters' dream car on and off (mostly on) since she graduated college and left for Africa and the Peace Corps. She paid cash for it. She loved it. She drove a 9 hour drive to and from college in this Honda Passport. When she left for Africa, it sat in the driveway - dejected and lonely. I started driving it to keep up it's spirits. And to miss Krissy less.
I had an accident in it one summer day. A truck carrying oxygen and welding tanks ran a red light coming down a hill, I was turning onto the highway....And stopped. I don't know why, I saw a blackness I said later. That truck plowed my front corner, the driver threw up after he finally stopped. It was amazing the lack of damage they said. See, I love this car.
Trips to the grandkids, journeys around the area, the soft sound of rain as I drive, the float of snowflakes in the morning, jack frost greetings...I love this car.
I walked home a couple of weeks ago, it went in for a checkup. Final analysis - not worth fixing unless you do it yourself. Which is IMpossible for a no nothing like me.
So I drove it home, figuring he said anytime between tonight and months. It started heating up, then steaming. I made it to the driveway. My neighbor kids and I sat and watched. She whistled and squealed and sighed and steamed. Then it was done.
"Pat, what are you going to do next?" I can't bury her. She deserves that, I won't think of what happens next. But I sure will remember all that happened with her. A carload of memories.

Rally for Sanity

2010-10-31T09:53:00.000-07:00

I loved looking at youtube this morning...checking out the interviews from the rally.
All the young people, where do they come from?
From hippie parents, woodstock loving parents who let materialism and their own self-importance carry them away from an ideological base that would have/could have changed the world! These older generation types turned into a self-righteous generation that speaks of having "made it on their own" all the while having had social security and medicare pay for their own parents' care ...those same parents who put them through colleges at a new rate unheard of before. They dsreguard the student loans, va loans, free education, park systems they vacationed in...man, need I go on?
We messed up. Our kids have a chance to fix it. But we sure didn't provide much leadership in the stand up and do what is right department much past 30 years of age. We witnessed civil rights, we benefited from medicare and social security as we left our parents to the "political machinery" and took care of ourselves. Do our children have the moxie to do it right? Or is 30 the new age to forget others? Or have we been doing it a lot longer than we think?

The Speed of Light

2010-10-23T12:28:00.000-07:00

AHHH, the speed of light. I contemplated it as I walked home Friday night. IF I was light rather than chubby, the walk would have been faster and easier. Because it was a long walk, faster and easier both appealed to me like apple pie and ice cream use to...as of Friday.
Then, as I neared mile 3, I realized that the speed of light does not apply to those of us heavy in the family department either. My billfold is full of old pictures. Showcases of my daughters as children, as high school graduates, my grandchildren as toddlers and infants. My billfold is not light. My droid's picture gallery displays all the heaviness of a large extended family. Inside my purse I also carry my camera complete with battery charger, "Just in Case". Alas, the weight of memory needs for those blessed with family heaviness.
I watched cars zip by, trucks surge through, four trains toot along slowly as I trudged towards the tracks. People traveling the speed of light don't notice a walker, or more to the point of my blog, each other. Ipods plugged into ears, cellphones up against faces, eyes down on technological games on their laps and oh so many dvd screens flashing movies to buckled in toddlers. We all know the speed of light is faster than the speed of sound. So it is no surprise actually that no one talks to one another. They all get into their spots and connect with a world outside the realness of one another.
When people talk about life moving too fast, I wonder, how can they tell? It seems that the speed of light has already taken them away from the reality of one another. Bless my weighty family and the body that shows I sit and eat and visit and enjoy those closest to me. Close to me inn ways real, and all the ways I carry on the long walks home to them.

driving

2010-10-18T19:11:00.000-07:00

My oldest is learning to drive in Singapore. I am having troubles with drivers in Nebraska. THIS is my question, when did stop signs develop a new definition. Someone will be sitting at a four way stop and turn right...no matter when...like right turns don't count...even if that is the way I want to turn. Or when did it become, "If I go very fast, it is a two for one sale...just sneak by really fast with the guy who has the right of way. Or when the blinker says they are turning and the front of the car indicates it's turning...when did that become a clue for a straight away drive? Laurel, Singapore at least has the regulations of the left side. I think stop's regulation means do whatever you want. No wonder life seems confused.

Life's Turns

2010-10-06T18:48:00.001-07:00

Big, BIG, Biggest month ever. I'm not sure my life could be more dwarfed as the days roll over me.
My first born daughter moved a half of a world away...great joy in the opportunities for her young family in their potential growth and for me in travels! "Roll with it Baby."
My eldest brother become so ill that he thought it was a heart attack! Instead, it was "only" the stresses of life and work. He was too busy to be sure he was taking his high blood pressure and high cholestrol pills and he became very low. Spent 7 days at home...unheard of behavior and has worked almost 7 hours in the last two days. I have never known life without him. I can't even contemplate it.
My busiest brother has pneumonia. His stress with his former business partners and continuing lawsuits won over his good spirits. He wouldn't know Stevie Winwood to roll with it anymore than I would know some rap star. He also wouldn't know how to slow down and enjoy it. He was named after a cartoon character - Tom Terrific - who flew everywhere and tried to fix everything with many misadventures. Very apt.
I miss Evelyn. I even miss my other siblings. It is hard to have them dead to you over stupid things. Irreversible events. Family dysfunction. But I get lonely for what should have been.
Today, the daughter of an old friend tracked me down to say her mother asked to find me so she could say thank you for our friendship. Gail developed MS the year after she was crowned MIss North Platte and was the runner up for Miss Nebraska. She fought it forty years. In rest homes the last 15. I kissed her cheek, wished her a peaceful journey and she smiled in her semi-conscious state.
Life is so big. So without road maps. Completely unpredictable.
But God is good. When it seems tough, He reminds you of what is important. He shows how people are more meaningful and love is big, bigger, Best!

Summer To Do List

2009-08-04T16:00:00.000-07:00

I officially started the back to school inservices Monday. My to do list is still endless!!! I am not exaggerating. Bob has had ten gallons of paint for the exterior for four years and we have been working on it for four weeks. 32 tubes of caulk (yes, laugh at how the word sounds) and so far, 40 gallons of paint. My daugher and son-in-law gave us two days of work as did my brother with the spray machine. Sunday, I got a concussion but kept on working after a landscaping pole fell off the roof and bounced (twice) on my head. Monday, we again, ran out of paint.
Four years to almost get this off my to do list. It will get done by the official start of school but that is only a week and 2 days away. Which made me consider, did I get anything important done on my list? The answer is "The Important Listless".
1. Talked to my 4 daughters more than they probably wanted to, more often than they would choose to. It was always grand.
2. Sat in wonder on the fourth of july - not at the fireworks but the idioticacy of men and fireworks and the joy of children.
3. Enjoyed many sunrises as they swept the plains of Nebraska.
4. Blessed by stars at night.
5. Chased lightning bugs.
6. Cold beer, hot night...need I say more?
7. Fascinating reads for a stimulated mind.
8. Time off from the attachment of teaching and loving other peoples' children.
9. Cancer free Theresa.
10.Prayers for grandchildren who are now adolescents and pre-adolescents. More prayers for their parents...been there/done that.
11.Friend relationship time...something I put to the side too often.
12.Gardening....I LOVE dirt and flowers and vegetables.

Needless to say, that list can go on but the joys of it are everlasting. My to do list, short joy and long staying list. No wonder I keep putting it off.

fences in our minds

2009-07-30T10:21:00.000-07:00

Randy Praush said the brick walls are not there to stop you but to see how much you want what is on the other side. I can agree with that. It was a great visual for me in my mind and life. But what about the fences in my mind?
I put some up for safety...if someone crosses some line, they are dangerous and must be avoided or put out. I erect some fences to keep that sense of self. As a woman, it is so easy to become someone's mom, a sturdy, dependable employee, an extension of my significant man, my sister's sibling... So I preserve that piece of myself by a crooked and weaving fence.
I carefully craft the fence of political persuasions with that ever changing fence as I respond to new information and the wisdom that comes with aging. The fence of stonewalling might fit here. As is that "line in the sand" type fence.
But sometimes the fences make for stagnation or fear. I put up an occasional fence that I am afraid to go past. The otherside of some fences are not about greener on the other side, but about blackness. Or is it about unknown? I build some fences that lock me into a place I won't go past. Making limitations on my life and choices. How do I make sure my fences are about goodness, not fearsomeness?
I read somewhere that vision plus consistent action equals freedom. Are my fences connected with the visions of what I want? Are my fences allowing me to have consistency in my actions? A good fence allows for freedom inside and outside. That's what I need to keep checking on. Let's not even start with the mending fences thing.....:)

Ponderings

2009-06-13T07:08:00.000-07:00

Isn't it funny how when life turns upside down, you don't want to ponder outloud anymore? I can sometimes verbalize it but seldom can put it to paper. When I teach, I tell my students don't try to write what you really don't know. So there is why I haven't been writing...I really don't know. Who would guess at 55 that my life and loves have so much going on that I can't even figure it out. What happened to the theory that the life experiences and connections of aging that were suppose to work into rich wisdom! Can't seem to locate that information.

SO I ponder. "Mary held her baby and pondered in her heart." I wish I could hold my babies safe and ponder. All of the issues in our lives are momentary and moving forward into goodness but man, enough already. Can't have a rainbow without rain, we all need blackness in the fabric of our lives so that the colors shine brightly, what doesn't kill you just makes you stronger. I ponder why comfort has to share the spotlight with ugliness. I ponder why bad things happen to good people. But mostly, I just ponder...I like the word better than worry and even though I am a master worrier, I am pondering for the most part.

I believe in the goodness of a loving Lord and know he didn't plan for these things. He gave us all free will and the world is full of people acting out careless free will and it often affects us. Consequences can be either good or bad or both. Ponder on that for awhile. My head spins when I do. But that is the point...I am still pondering a good part of each day. Like a drip system hose in the garden, it is always going, always feeding, promoting growth and never stopping. It would be overwhelming except...Pondering will get me somewhere where I can figure out the verbalizations of my thoughts. I will lean forward into my life and know that God has not abandoned me or mine and I must keep doing the next right thing.

Things Change..SLOWLY

2009-04-05T14:46:00.000-07:00

I heard this story the other morning as I drove to school. I knew of John Hope Franklin and had appreciated his work and efforts. This story reflects a world we all hope has vanished. Maybe, it is just not as blatant but I hope it is a changing world. Please take time to put it into your working schema/life filter/perception producer. http://www.storycorps.net/listen/stories/john-hope-franklin-with-his-son-john-w-franklin

Families

2009-03-30T19:02:00.000-07:00

My mom died this winter. My sister is handicapped physically. Being a member of my family of orgin is a handicap that is emotional for all of us. Me especially. I can't stand the insanity of the fights and emotional blackmail. Nine kids. Mom was lucky to leave on the dementia plan. I think she forgot all the uglies. Yes, families have uglies. My Irish/Polish siblings and I can illustrate that truth. The uglies are a choice though. How long we keep choosing them is a question that begs to be answered. Meanwhile, if I can live intentionally, trying to keep just my inventory, leaving them to the gut-wrenching list making inventories of who did what, said what and meant what....maybe I will survive it all and live happily ever after. Or I can go on acting like a cripple. Choose wisely.

Aging

2009-02-14T09:57:00.000-08:00

Aging isn't for sisies, I've read. This last year has proven that. I finally got my masters degree...a week after my youngest daughter got hers!!
Another daughter almost died this fall, and there was nothing we could do but support her in her fight to wellness, which was also taken out of my hands because she moved to the coast.
I developed crazy elevations in blood pressure and looked stroke in it's ugly face and made it through.
My mother died after years of being absent in the world of dementia/alzheimers.
I know all that sort of drama has always been in the world. I've watched others survive the same episodes and grow stronger. But it isn't for sissies, this growing and being what I've witnessed others do. It has been a hard year.
Happiness, you betcha, new son in law, grandkids growing healthy, stable, strong. Daughters chasing dreams and kids and men and more than they ever thought to look for. I love those beauties of older age. But it still isn't for sissies. Even the beauties are about being less, the goal of parenting is to do it so well, the teaching and prodding, supporting and pushing: until they don't need you. Isn't that a heartbreaking statement?
Being proud of the job we've done all together, this village raising our children, reinforces the fact that we all put ourselves out of the job. Like firing ourselves, laying us off due to no need. Winning at mothering makes me unemployed...it's a good thing I'm not a sissy. Just proud.

Josephine

2009-02-06T04:32:00.001-08:00

Josephine was 85 but I quit counting at her 78th birthday.
"Happy Birthday Mom" I had greeted. "Whose birthday is it?" she asked. I reminded her that it was her birthday. "No it isn't. I would know. Now, who are you?" That was when I quit counting. It was a surprise that it was 7 years since that time. A foreverness exists in the lives of those dealing with Dementia/Alzheimers. There were times when it felt like I had always been trying to agree with ridiculous thoughts, following crazy conversations, being mistaken for her mother or no one she had ever met. Truly, that is one of the hazards of the caregiving position. You forget the mother, the grandmother, the women she was.
I especially remember the Lewey Bodies part of it all. Small little people she would try to talk sense into or yell at depending on what they were doing. Originally, we liked to believe that she was "seeing" young versions of ourselves or our children. But, it is a symptom of Dementia...nothing remininiscent in that. Mom had developed Leukemia and we were doing a program to kill it and the pain. She was in the hospital. We couldn't stand the thought of her being tied or belted down so we took turns with round the clock supervision. What a great nursing staff we worked with.
That night, she was telling them to get off the ceiling. They were bothering either George Washington or Abraham Lincoln. She told them over and over to get down. I said, let them learn their lesson the hard way. Let's just lie here and ignore them. She answered, "They could fall down and die." I said I didn't think a president would let that happen. "Well, they want me to die you know. But I don't want to go alone." I replied, Dad is there, your mom and dad and brothers. It could be good, I suggested. She would have none of it. I said, "Why don't you take Evelyn with you?" She paused, thought about it then used my name in the first time in so long, that I was taken aback. "Patty, I should take you with me. You won't get in otherwise I'm afraid."
Dementia has a mean core. She did many mean and hurtful things before we were aware of what it was. She said viciously ugly things. It was all part of the damn disease. It stole my mother and left her hurting, dying slowly and oh, so hard. I laughed that night. My brother Tom reminded me of that story as we stood in her bedroom the night before she finally fought her way out of this world. We laughed.
And that is how I will remember her. Laughing when it was hard, crazy and impossible. Laughing when her mother was gone, when she went to work at 14, when her second child was born with major physical handicapps, when Dad broke his back, when baby after baby showed up in her Catholic home, when all the ills and troubles of life threatened to win...she prayed, laughed, and loved her man. Till the disease took her. It had her prisoner for 7 years. Now, she is laughing at it. Na na boo boo Dementia.

Making memories

2009-01-07T16:23:00.002-08:00

It was a mission. Four of us in a traveling jewelry case...otherwise known as a Honda Civic. Three of the most valuable things in my life - two daughters and a son-in-law off to see five more gems of Reruchaness. Sadly, leaving behind the wealth of love in Lincoln and the richness of my newset loved one. But, our trip to the memories yet to come was of great importance.

I always think to myself, and now my daughters know why they wonder if they are nuts - I am always having mental conversations with myself and they have modeled that well!!! I think to myself, what will they dredge up from the bottom of their hearts at some random moment? Which piece of this week will carry them through a rough time when they can barely believe that they are loveable? What wandering thought will comfort a broken-hearted day? And that is why we spend time together...building memories that will beat the wolves of insignificance away from the doors of our souls. We built for six and a half days and will reap the dividends for a lifetime. Now that, my friends, is a wealth beyond measure!!

My four daughters are the jewels in my crown, my son-in-laws the settings for my four precious stones that send the daughters' glowing sparkle into the world. And as for my grandkids...Oh, the liquid wonder of their constantly moving and growing joy!!

I read once that the heart is pointed because there is pain in love, but the safety of the small, close confines of the bottom of the heart provide safety for all memories to be preserved and saved until they can become cherished. And yes, there are always going to be disagreements, discontent, spots on the jewels but lordy, all God's children have problems. Just knowing we are not problem children, knowing that everyone has issues, and knowing how very lucky we are to be in the building stages of our lives....well...it is a happy new year!!!

Making memories

2009-01-07T16:23:00.001-08:00

do you remember?

2008-12-14T07:51:00.000-08:00

Christmas decorating. So much of it is reliving my Christmas pasts. It use to be full of "Do you remember this one?" asked by a blonde with flashing eyes. Three other blondes echoing the same question. All self-entranced in the history of their Christmases. As they grew, so did the number of ornaments on the tree.
Then one year, their dad had this momentous idea. "Let's make an ornament every year for each of them. When they leave home, they will take peices of the tree with them." So we did. Every year, starting with the deer with antlers. One for each of them, one for the parents and every of of their teachers got one too. The star Santas were a big hit. It was fun and the painting was an annual family event.
Surprisingly, to me anyway, came the divorce. I couldn't begin to make ornaments, just started buying one for everyone so it matched everyone else's. They were content to continue the tradition. Even as the oldest moved out of the home into the home she created with her husband, we continued. Seeing her tree in Idaho with our ornaments kept us together. Second daughter moved into her home with her husband also. More ornaments left the tree making magic on their tree.
This year, all the ornaments are gone. Except mine. I know at least two of the girls have trees up with their children. I hope my newly-weds have one up also. I am the sentimental sop keeping up the tradition the dad they don't always respect started. But my tree, as a compromise to blending, is not the traditional one my family has always had. Oh, the actual family tree is at Liz's house...permanently slanted sideways since I plastered the post crooked one evening trying to fight the tree climbing Panther. It glows with love and pride and history there.
I, last year with the man I love, brought a new tree. Not his family's nor mine. His family tree went to Goodwill...what a nice name. We decorated our tree with all new ornaments, cooper and gold shining with wishes and hope of merging our children and our lives. It is a beautiful tree but still an unfinished hope. We will put it up again today and laugh and find some old Christmas past items we can't live without to scatter through our kidless house.
What about the ornaments? I still buy one every year for my daughters. I spent several years buying for each grandchild also, but dropped that due to the knowledge of each needing ownership of their own trees. Last year, a wreath from 1,ooo Villages...it was made from soda cans...figures holding hands and one another. Symbolic... This year, one for ever single family member, the kind that holds a picture. My problem, finding a current picture to put into every frame. The new man of my life said, "Have everyone take the picture at the same time on Christmas Day. You can all pretend you're together for that moment." He laughed and patted my head, a habit that can irritate me.
But that is what I am going to do. Give my pretty little frames. Ask everyone to take pictures at noon on Christmas Day. We will be together for the moment taking pieces of everyone with us. Thanks to the two men I have loved. Merry Christmas.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-29T15:36:00.000-08:00

Opposite of love? Bet you said hate. I paid a shrink a lot of money to find the real answer to that question.
In my divorce I asked when would I stop loving him? I wrestled with it and said, "I'm paying a lot of money here. When will I know I am cured?" My attorney had said, "Never. You are never done with him. You will always tell the stories of him and them because you were in love, because they are part of that loving relationship and because it honors them. You will never be done."
My shrink said, "That man is a smart attorney. But your answer is...(drum roll and It IS Worth IT!!) when you don't care. The opposite of love is not hate, that's where you are. Hate is the other side of the double sided sword of love. When you don't care anymore, in any other than a human way, you are no longer in love."
Consider that free answer as priceless. (You're welcome) That answer came true for me months, almost 2 years after I sent Steve out on March Fourth...another irony of my life. Get it...march forth? That answer is priceless those times when the family gets together and we struggle with the independence of one another and the vast differences in our behaviors, outlooks, political beliefs, lifestyles....You Name IT. We are different!
Then comes floating into my mind...the opposite of love is indifference, not caring. This is caring exponentially too much. It is also about being sensitive to our differences and wondering if we are truly being accepted. Which is the next question....if I truly accept them, shouldn't I trust that they truly accept me? In the words of St. Francis of Assissi, "Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me."
You probably already knew there are moments in the weekend that were not worthy of the Hallmark channel. Really, aren't the ones you like best when the difficulties are overcome by forgiving and caring and trying harder and someone growing up? We are all Hallmark Channel worthy...all of our families. But the moments that we struggle in our familyness are the moments where the growth occurs and the bonding builds. I don't worry when I can step back and think rationally instead of inside my bleeding heart. Then I think of those families spending 4 or 5 hours together in pleasant conversation as they plan their night out, or trip back to "sanity" or the other family.
I have seen them, I chose mine. The messiness, contradictions within them, the loudness, f bombs, silliness, wine guzzling women who bring my home much joy. I choose mine and we will never be done.

Officially I'm Grown Up

2008-11-22T16:10:00.000-08:00

My youngest daughter has this title on her latest blog. I no longer aspire to the content of the message. It is my title of my story this time and it is for real.
I have 2 of my 4 girls going to a teenie bopper romance movie about Vampires even as I write. Yes, they are too old to be reading middle school books but hey...they're reading. Another daughter is spending time with a potentially serious boyfriend meeting his friends and family..."Mom, this is too big. He wants me to meet them all." And I harken back to the wedding he came to for littlest sis where he met all the family and friends plus decorated the wedding site....But she doesn't see the connection. My oldest is probably at the same movie as the two in Lincoln, just in a different state. And I? I am cleaning house for the onslaught of 3 of my 4 being home for Thanksgiving. Washing bedding, vacuuming unused rooms to freshen them up for the five grandkids coming and the 3 daughters, 2 spouses and the guy with potential.
Wonderful! You think as you read this. Well, here is where I know this is the day I became an adult. I live and love with Bob. In the house he raised his two children with my friend, and his wife, Deb. A lot of my things did not make it into this building. Liz got some things, I made the others take stuff too. I gave generously to Goodwill and had a free garage sale. Do I miss my platter, my green apple salad bowls, my coffee table in the living room where the little ones would sit. Yes. I do. But, as an adult, I realize I miss my family more. So this year I I will decorate with their presence. I will miss Laurel's being here with hers, much more than the goods that didn't make the move. The things I miss for a moment are actually just things at long last. I have become an adult. Today.

Sleeping Democratic in a Republican State

2008-11-09T13:04:00.000-08:00

For those under 40, that is the parodied title of a country music song. But the feeling within the song is the emotion of my situation as a citizen. If you've read this blog, you know I teach. I stayed up late on Election Night and thrilled to Barack's acceptance speech. I went to bed hopeful and nervous...two feelings that don't live together well. Fast forward to my class sitting at their desks.
"Mrs. R. Do you know now that Barack Obama will be president, that girls are going to have to marry girls and boys will have to marry boys?" That isn't true I reply in disgust. Who told you that? "My mom and dad." See the dilema of public educators?
"Well," came another voice, "My mom was crying because now black people are going to make white people their slaves." No answer from me as I stood in dumbfounded contemplation of upper middle class white republican parents.
"And did you know that Barack Obama is going to make us all turn Muslim?"
Thankfully, well answered by our Muslim student. "Hey,if that was true that would be okay. You like me. You would like it....Wouldn't you?"\\//
I didn't even touch the Muslim part. Salmon had already answered that well.
But I did ask, "Fourth graders, are those things you have stated reasonable? When America votes, it is with reasonable thoughts and educated responses. I wonder how many of those things are something someone said to scare others. I always like to think we will be reasonable in our thoughts or the world is never going to get better. If we can't learn to get along, war will never stop. When we spread rumors, they take on the authority of truths. So let's think....Which of those things are reasonable?"
Small discussion and much perplexion.
"So what do I tell my mom and dad?"
"The same thing....Let's all be reasonable and believe that when the majority vote, it is a reasonable response. And that we all need to go for the next good thing to believe in. John McCain said he will support and honor our new president. Would he have said that if he knew it was going to be a bad thing? Let's encourage reasonable."
Nods all around. Calming air being breathed in and out. Small smiles of pre-adolescent security crossing over the faces of those being most affected by the election. The faces of the future. The faces of those becoming reasonable.
Meanwhile, sleeping democrat in a republican state, thinking over words I wish I said, ....tossing, turning trying to forget that I'm sleeping democrat in my republican state.

Halloween

2008-11-02T12:29:00.000-08:00

It is odd to think of all the creatures and characters we wanted to be on Halloween. A witch was quite the evil thing when I was a child. Rich lady was great or a ballerina ( in Nebraska the costume would likely be covered totally by one's coat but hey...) My classroom use to run to Freddy Kruger or Darth Vader and such, Harry Potter is a winning choice now or Spongebob Square Pants. I remember the year my daughters were all CareBears.

This year, I was Sarah Palin. I considered it pretty scarey. The Vice leader of the Free World as a scarey character....when did it come to this? I would answer the obligatory salutation of Trick Or Treat with a wide wink and a "You betcha!" I wore my tartish suit jacket, my highest heels and my hair in a bad upsweep with a pony tail. Parents laughed, which was great thinking of how Republican my state is. I thought it funny too. Until I really think of it. The position she aspires to is left in disgrace as her face became the number one selling mask for this year.
As a woman who is considered a feminist, it offends me that her body and her wink are hallmarks for her entrance into the powerful machinery of democracy. Why not her mind? Why not her trustworthiness? Why not the examples of character, forthrightedness, loyalty, and leadership that set her on the top of the list for the VP candidates. Because they aren't her hallmarks. It is her pert, cute, lipsticked bulldogidness, in a wet dream body that caused the "Rise" to the public's eye. Nothing on Halloween is as scary as our fall as women when this is our best, nor the fact that THIS is as good as a major political party can be. I'm scared. It makes my vote sadly obvious. It is not a good trick or treat.

Autumn

2008-10-16T15:14:00.000-07:00

Last night a prediction of a hard freeze. Only midwesterns get that phrase. It freezes a lot before the frost is on the windowpane. Or, enough frost to kill the garden plants. So Ron, the one imparting the sad tidings to me, went outside to help me cover the plants. Yes, cover them. To keep the frost off of them. Otherwise they would die. Cracks me up, I don't want them to die. I am sick of canning tomatoes, I have let some weeds grow tall and too healthy because I am sick of gardening. BUT, then I am out covering them up so they can maybe eek out life for two or three more weeks.
Those who see life as the seasons, you know, spring, summer and fall of our lives....Do you see it? I am fighting winter. All older people fight winter. When I was young, I just let those plants die. I always felt there were enough done up. Now, I am fighting it all. The losses, the ugly look of dying plants, the brittle leftovers that no one wants.
It was a hard freeze So hard I had to scrape the windshield this morning. I was afraid and didn't look at my garden until I returned home tonight. It survive!! Even the sick plants I hadn't covered due to not enough sheets and blankets. Tomorrow morning I will head out and uncover them. (Light freeze warning for tonight) They will live and bear the joyful splendors I have come to know well. I hope I do the same as I enter the winter of my life.

aniversaries

2008-10-12T16:48:00.000-07:00

Since I was the one who filed for divorce, why does that date still haunt me?
The loss of the dream? The collapse of hearts? The lack of faith I have in my own common sense? I think of how I met a man/boy that made me thrill to the core. Who thought I was lovely. No small thing. 20 years of marriage - my mom used to say, "Patty was happily married for 20 years, Steve about 18." But that wedding date and the promises of bliss...alas and alack!! This year I was made aware again of how that date sticks to my subconscious like cigarette smoke to the walls. Unobtrusively but destructively always there, gathering in dank and dangerousness. It always hits sometime during the day...an unpleasant sense of having left something important out. Then the gradual realization that it isn't important anymore, it is just out. Done. This year, and honestly, I know I knew it, the man I love with was still trying to get hold of his son. It was the son's birthday. I thought, what an irony. It is son's birthday on my former aniversary (Ironic because his daughter got married last Nov. on my birthday.) So I knew there was this birthday on my dreaded date but this time, as I responded by a tilt of my head in what I have come to know as the dead fish pose, I questioned how one date could be so extreme? The date is full of the anticipation I had for a long joyous wedded life. The dismay as the date was able to remain standing long after the marriage was destroyed. It also holds the crazy serenity of new parents on the birth of their first child, and stereotypically correctly, a son. How much can a day hold, I wonder on days like Pearl Harbor Day, Fourth of July, my aniversary? Answer: more than a heart can hold.

headcolds

2008-09-30T20:00:00.000-07:00

Why are they called head colds? My head is hot. Not cold. My nose is stuffed or running. My ears are passive or drumming. I teach like this. When I'm at home and sweet nothings are whispered in my ear, they are as nothing. I feel deaf on top of feeling like there is cotton stuffed in all of by body cavities.
I stood in front of the pharmacy aisles (yes I meant that to be plural)0 --very plural)for about ten minutes and looked over boxes and bottles and cartons and gave in to reason. I asked the pharmacist. She smiled. "None of them cure anything. They just relieve symptoms. So pick the symptom that is most offensive and start there."
Start there? I wonder in dismay. So I ask, do you mean it will probably take several types before this is over? "Of course. That's how headcolds work. You just mask the symptoms until you immune system takes on the headcold and wins."
So I pondered the four symptoms, their prices and realized I was dealing with a $55 cold. I rather have new shoes. I picked up the 8 dollar airborne to rev up my immmune system and went shoe shopping. I felt better immediately. A new cure???

2008-09-14T14:29:00.000-07:00

My Job of new challenges

I am a teacher. I do love the passing on of information to the new generations. I delight in finding the ways all their minds work so I can ignite their curiosities. But it is really the challenge of making students (24 this year) become independent, confident thinkers. I am pretty good at this. Examples numbers one through four being my very own daughters. (See, I told you I excell.) Doing this without prescribing it to be done MY way is the challenge. That they all get to be themselves, in their own habitats and habits. Last year was a toughie, this year looks like it will be busy also but more rewarding due to some diversity to begin with.
I have always felt anticapation for the meeting of my fellow travelers in each year's mental and emotional journeys. I constantly fear that I will give too much guidance and they won't be making their own journeys. I dread those moments when they see me as mean because I don't help like other teachers have in their pasts. I squirm when someone states that my expectations are too high. It is difficult, this challenge of making them more through the curriculums demanded by state departments. But I know that anyone can teach himself alot. I realize that teaching a prescribed plan can be done by anyone who can read and follow directions with a bit of time management. But this, what I hope I do, is a mission. I regret that few do this.
My daughters know I give too much to my job. They dealt with the times I had little to give them at the end of a school day or week. (Thank you God for summers to make it up) My lover feels the lack of me as I push my fellow classmates. (A too messy house with a sleepy girlfriend by 9 in the evening) But to do less, is to be less and to make less. How senseless. So I teach.

2008-09-05T19:59:00.000-07:00

I can't verify my identity.

I got an email from #3 saying I don't qualify to co-sign a loan for her grad school. Having single mommed since she was 10, my credit score IS probably saggier than my breasts but, come on. So I skip lunch and go to a credit report place on-line. I use my home email address so it doesn't bug my school account. Ran home this evening and as I swear on my goddess self, the following is all true.
I get to the part where I have to use information to prove my identity. I get two right but can't move any further. SO I call the number given, listen for the options on the cell phone path of life and finally have the opportunity to converse with a LIVE person.
"Hello, can I help you?"
"Yes, I am having problems getting past the identity verification. I'm afraid I don't have the numbers you need."
"I'm sure we can walk through it. Let's begin. Can you give you former address. So I reply ### O'Neill *******in && @@@@. "
"That is incorrect."
"No, that is correct. I know, I lived there."
"Possibly you might want to try a post office box?"
"Well I don't think they will let you live in a Post Office Box. But I have one currently and it is PO Box ###."
"Thank you. That is your former address. Now the one before that?"
"Actually, that is my current box number and my current residence is $$$$ ****** Drive in the same city. My former address, as I said before is #### O'Neill ******."
"We indicate that as your second previous address. Let's use some account numbers for verification next. On your student loans, what is your account number?"
"Well actually, there are three accounts. Two parent loans and one student loan. I am not sure what those numbers would be since they are automatic in my checking account. Which one do you refer to, K's or T's?"
"Maam, I wouldn't know who they are for, they are listed as obligations you have."
"That is true, they are mine. I don't even know where those numbers would be."
"How about you tell me what the payment monthly is?"
"I think they are about $360 a month altogether but maybe one or two went up this fall again...they do that at specified times."
"That is not what this one is for."
"If you could tell me who, I might be able to tell how much."
"I'm afraid you are suppose to verify for me."
"Sorry, can we try something else?"
"How about you tell me the month and year these payments began Mrs. R."
"Well K graduated in 1999 and then + 4 years of college + 2.5 years in the Peace Corps so about Sept. 2005. Is that good?"
"No, that is incorrect..."
"Okay, T would be 2000 +4 but I think I started paying the year before so 2003 in Jan."
Heavy sigh..."No. Let's try a car loan."
"I have had some of those."
"Good. Bank used?"
"Yes, Overland maybe?"
"No."
"I am pretty sure the Sable was at Overland."
"That is not the make I am referring to."
"Oh, the Honda Accord 1996."
"Yes, which bank and what were the payments?"
"I don't know the bank and the payments were for about 320 dollars."
"No, that does not match the records."
"You're kidding. I'm sure that is right. How about we go back to former addresses. I could give you the address to the last home I owned rather than rented."
"No, any other house would be too far back to be worthy for verification."
"Oh, but I owned all the others."
"How about we try a store credit card?"
"I don't have any store credit cards."
Long silence.
"Do YOU think I have a store credit card?"
"Yes you do."
"No I don't!! I cancelled all my cards when I was falling behind so my credit would not end up killing me."
"Would you like to tell me when you opened the store credit card?"
"Why don't you tell me where the store is. I need to get this inactive. It is inactive isn't it? It better be inactive because I don't even know I still have one."
"Maam, I can't release any information. You are suppose to verify for me."
"Okay, this is weird. I don't have my kids's numbers for loans. They are mine, being paid monthly and I am bad because I am not even sure for how much monthly. I have not had a residence between the two house addresses because I couldn't live in a PO Box and my cars have been paid off for so long that I can't even be sure what the payments were. I have found out I have a store account somewhere which might or might not be active and I don't seem to be able to verify who I am. What can we do?"
"Maam, could you tell me when the car payment began?"
"Sure, in August. #3 got hit my an uninsured Mexican in Mat. The Sable was totalled so I detasselled to earn the down payment."
"Which year?"
"I don't know. #4 was still in high school and maybe #3 also. So 1998, 1999."
"Maam, there isn't much current here to go with."
"I know. I live with my boyfriend. Share half the living expenses but the bills are all in his name. Maybe he should send me in a credit report for a current piece."
She didn't laugh. Maybe she thought I meant piece in a dirty way. I wish I had been so witty.
"Maybe you would like to look this all up in your paperwork and call back."
"I don't have paperwork. Maybe I should just cancel."
"I will give you that number.### ### ####. Is there anything else I could help you with?"
"No, I just need to get my identity back. Thanks."

That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Being a goddess is not easy.