I know. I am posting on 11/12/11. Really, I don't get hyped up on dates because they are arbitrary. Dates, calendars, gemstones, the zodiac, all those things are just ways of measuring time or making categories based on time. It's always been interesting to me that from the Roman calendar to the sundial to the measuring of years Anno Domino (the year of our Lord) every way measurements are made bases the system on Jehovah's creation or the ransom sacrifice of his only-begotten son.
You know how the KJV says Adam begat Cain and Able and Abraham begat Isaac and Ishmael, etc? It's interesting to me because I think the women did most of the getting and the gatting, but anyhow, when we say Jesus is Jehovah's only begotten son, we are saying that back when in the past tense, Jehovah begat Jesus. I may have said that in this blog in the past. If so, forgive me. I'm not really senile yet that I know about (would I know about it if true? Alzheimer's patients seem pretty happy and oblivious) but I have certain linguistic ideas that are "staples" of how I think about the world. So I may be repeating myself just because I like my topic.
Anyhow, I would have blogged yesterday just because I like writing and just because I would have found something to say. Unfortunately, I got the news yesterday morning via email that the man's father passed away in Oklahoma at 5:05 p.m. on 11/10. When I say "the man," I always mean the man I married and with whom I share two lovely daughters. I had to tell that man, the father of my children, that his father had died.
Last night, I did not blog because I was listening to him talk about his family. In some very real ways, we are his only family now other than a mom and brother 1600 miles away, people he had not spoken to in about a year prior to yesterday.
My father-in-law was a cool guy. I say that because I never divorced him. I always liked him. He was from Poland and he had those Slavic features I kind of like in a guy. He served three tours in Vietnam and I'm against war, but his stories were interesting. I gave him a copy of the book "The Things They Carried" when I read it for a class and he was not much of a reader (newspapers, CNN kind of guy) but he read that and told me he couldn't put it down. Funny how we always got along better than he did with his sons.
He lost a daughter almost exactly my age when she was 13. He never talked about that much except to say the military doctors were idiots who let her go misdiagnosed. They were treating her for a back ache when she had kidney failure. From what I have heard from them of her symptoms, I think she had a severe sleep apnea, so you can understand how panicked I was when Kimberly had the same issues at age five. I went to doctors till I found one who had a diagnosis.
We did go our separate ways. Their other daughter had the first granddaughter six months before Carly was born. And they showered her with love and gifts and attention. My kids really got the shaft for grandparents on both sides. It's kind of ironic because I was reading in Dear Abby this week, a day or two before he died, about a woman who always went to her mother with her children and now that her son's wife goes to her mother, she feels left out of her grand children's life and she wants a time machine. That is pretty typical in society. There's a reason for that saying: "A man is a man until he takes a wife. A daughter is a daughter for life." I do not say that smugly as the mom of two girls. But I am happy about it.
Not that I'm getting grandchildren anytime soon, and that's okay too.
I guess the man is upset. It was his father. The man is now 51 and a half years old and is stubbornly refusing to realize he can't do everything he used to do. I don't like this realization either, but putting your head in the sand like an ostrich accomplishes nothing even for an ostrich. It doesn't change anything.
My father-in-law was 79 and went through a bout of cancer related to Agent Orange about five years ago. This year, it came back. No funeral, no burial. He was a very practical man who donated his body to the OU (Oklahoma University) medical center. He was down to 85 pounds. When they are finished, the school will cremate his body and send the ashes to his widow. Still, nobody can say he got cheated out of a long lifespan. Well, nobody but us. All of us are sinners thanks to our original parents and cheated out of the lifespan our Heavenly Father desired for us.
And I know a peace that the man cannot have because he will never listen to anything from the Bible, but today I know that someone will be welcoming Mitchell Randall back to life someday and it just might be me. This makes me entirely happy not over his death this week, but his prospect for resurrection in the future. Man can cremate. Jehovah can create. That one little letter in the word cremate can be so easily dropped by Jehovah.
That is why I did not blog last night. I was listening while holding the hand of the father of my children.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Dossier
Well, I went to see what all these committees have had to say about me and I finally got to read the entire file.
Mostly, it is lame. They say in one instance that I don't let all my students talk about their interpretation and that I cut them off. Then a few paragraphs later they say my classes don't have a beginning, middle and end. Sometimes I do have to steer a class discussion in another direction specifically for the reason that I have a middle and an end and I have to get there.
I don't think they know I've been on the theocratic ministry school since 1972 and that I have a clear idea of having an effective conclusion.
Anyhow, the best part is that there is a memo I should have gotten in 2010 and I never received it. How they can expect me to do something when I didn't get the memo is pretty short sighted.
I do have an external evaluator. It's kind of interesting to me that all my recommendations from Arkansas, and all my students like the job I do. It's just this committee I can't get along with. Anyhow, the external evaluator is a professor at another university that I have never met. She read my files and my published work and she gave her evaluation of my work too. And she liked me. I guess it will seem like bragging to only post her parts, but legally I can't post the other things (about 40 pages) so you can see how these few paragraphs gave me some faith in myself. She wrote this:
Mostly, it is lame. They say in one instance that I don't let all my students talk about their interpretation and that I cut them off. Then a few paragraphs later they say my classes don't have a beginning, middle and end. Sometimes I do have to steer a class discussion in another direction specifically for the reason that I have a middle and an end and I have to get there.
I don't think they know I've been on the theocratic ministry school since 1972 and that I have a clear idea of having an effective conclusion.
Anyhow, the best part is that there is a memo I should have gotten in 2010 and I never received it. How they can expect me to do something when I didn't get the memo is pretty short sighted.
I do have an external evaluator. It's kind of interesting to me that all my recommendations from Arkansas, and all my students like the job I do. It's just this committee I can't get along with. Anyhow, the external evaluator is a professor at another university that I have never met. She read my files and my published work and she gave her evaluation of my work too. And she liked me. I guess it will seem like bragging to only post her parts, but legally I can't post the other things (about 40 pages) so you can see how these few paragraphs gave me some faith in myself. She wrote this:
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Heal, Heel, Hill
Technically, hill has a little different pronunciation than heel or heal. It's kind of like, tin and ten do not sound the same either if you do it right.
Yes, I think about words all the time. The dogs are healing well. They are able to go up and down the stairs if we don't watch them, but are trying to carry them mostly. Zora was slower getting back on her feet than Arwen. She takes everything harder like that. Funny, because Arwen is so prissy and Zora is the only one of them that howls, although Myra, Abel's daughter's Chihuahua who is a sibling but not a litter mate for our dogs, also howls.
Which is a slant rhyme for heel. Howl. That's how it works in poetry. You got words that are cockeyed to each other and it's called a slant rhyme, like heel and howl, or noodle and needle.
So someone is going to feel like a heel tomorrow because I finally can go read the dossier that has the reports that have been filed about my performance and find out exactly what these people are work with are about. I don't really have much sense, and after I'll be at the meeting, but I might not have my brain straight (as if I ever do).
And, life is all uphill. We had our CA last week so we are having the oral review tomorrow. I went with Fay to Pittsburgh and she left her book bag in my car so I think I'll slip over to East Hills and visit and return her bag. Then Sunday we go to the second day of the CA because we are old and like to break it up. Two days back to back kills me with school. And guess what? I love worldly people for somethings! Hooray but Thanksgiving is coming. I just want those three days off. And most of the students ditch you on Monday and Tuesday of that week, so in practical terms, it's a week off.
I'm ready. Tomorrow is a long day. I probably need my beauty rest, and I know I need some mental rest, so goodnight.
Yes, I think about words all the time. The dogs are healing well. They are able to go up and down the stairs if we don't watch them, but are trying to carry them mostly. Zora was slower getting back on her feet than Arwen. She takes everything harder like that. Funny, because Arwen is so prissy and Zora is the only one of them that howls, although Myra, Abel's daughter's Chihuahua who is a sibling but not a litter mate for our dogs, also howls.
Which is a slant rhyme for heel. Howl. That's how it works in poetry. You got words that are cockeyed to each other and it's called a slant rhyme, like heel and howl, or noodle and needle.
So someone is going to feel like a heel tomorrow because I finally can go read the dossier that has the reports that have been filed about my performance and find out exactly what these people are work with are about. I don't really have much sense, and after I'll be at the meeting, but I might not have my brain straight (as if I ever do).
And, life is all uphill. We had our CA last week so we are having the oral review tomorrow. I went with Fay to Pittsburgh and she left her book bag in my car so I think I'll slip over to East Hills and visit and return her bag. Then Sunday we go to the second day of the CA because we are old and like to break it up. Two days back to back kills me with school. And guess what? I love worldly people for somethings! Hooray but Thanksgiving is coming. I just want those three days off. And most of the students ditch you on Monday and Tuesday of that week, so in practical terms, it's a week off.
I'm ready. Tomorrow is a long day. I probably need my beauty rest, and I know I need some mental rest, so goodnight.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Pay as you Spay
Well, I am never going to be a Chihuahua grandmother, at least not from Arwen or Zora. We took them to the vet this morning at 7:45 and checked them in. They whined. They gave us looks simultaneously dirty and bewildered over the shoulders of the assistants taking them through the doors beyond which unauthorized personnel is not allowed.
They are home and resting. They are glad to be back. I love them. How did Jehovah put that in me, to become so attached, not to my dog, but my daughters' dogs? And of course I worry how we will get the dogs through Armageddon. Like worrying about the daughters is not enough.
As I passed the economic department today at school, which has just relocated to Biddle Hall, they had the TV monitor playing the news with the stock strip running across the bottom and there was some headline about bullion bust. So the gold market is doing something and last week it was the Greek government and Kim watched some 20/20 episode lately about in 2000 there were 11 billionaires in the USA and now there are over 400. No wonder the general populace is marching on Wall Street and trying to figure out who to vote for.
I get so tired of myself sometimes that I don't know how you stand reading any of this. All I could think of today was that the end of this system is coming, and here I am worrying about a job next year. It would be nice in a way if it comes before then and I don't have to worry about it. I think sometimes about taking a job abroad (better pay) to send Carly the money to live on while she finishes nursing school, but if the great tribulation came and I could not travel back to her, is there any worse thing I could suffer than being away from her in such trials?
Lately I've been thinking about Jehovah's name because the circuit assembly theme is "Sanctify Jehovah's Holy Name." How his name means he can cause to become whatever is needed to fulfill his purpose. Last year, my lovely sister Jennifer was stressed out. Economic hard times hit Arkansas and Jamie's profession hard. He is a house builder. He is going to school to be a respiratory therapist. In the meantime, Jennifer was a medical transcriptionist juggling too much work and responsibility. So Sister Scully sends an email about her employer looking for house inspectors in Arkansas and do I know anyone who would be interested and qualified?
I guess if you can build a house, you can inspect one. Jamie is doing great and so is Jennifer and their two children. And no one saw that coming, that way out to bless them. So I am heartened that even though I don't know what to think of my job, that Jehovah will not leave me in the lurch.
As I spoke to Fay on the way to the assembly hall Saturday, she offered for Carly to live with her while I am gone if it comes to that. Today, Carly got a card in the mail from Fay. Sometimes I want to hurl rotten tomatoes clear from Pennsylvania to Oklahoma and say, "Mother, how can you not care about my babies?" And I still don't know the answer to that one, but I do know that I have my sister Fay here who does care.
Now, I'm going back downstairs to sit beside one of my doggies and read for class. I don't know when the tribulation is coming, but I am sure we all have the same father and same last name.
They are home and resting. They are glad to be back. I love them. How did Jehovah put that in me, to become so attached, not to my dog, but my daughters' dogs? And of course I worry how we will get the dogs through Armageddon. Like worrying about the daughters is not enough.
As I passed the economic department today at school, which has just relocated to Biddle Hall, they had the TV monitor playing the news with the stock strip running across the bottom and there was some headline about bullion bust. So the gold market is doing something and last week it was the Greek government and Kim watched some 20/20 episode lately about in 2000 there were 11 billionaires in the USA and now there are over 400. No wonder the general populace is marching on Wall Street and trying to figure out who to vote for.
I get so tired of myself sometimes that I don't know how you stand reading any of this. All I could think of today was that the end of this system is coming, and here I am worrying about a job next year. It would be nice in a way if it comes before then and I don't have to worry about it. I think sometimes about taking a job abroad (better pay) to send Carly the money to live on while she finishes nursing school, but if the great tribulation came and I could not travel back to her, is there any worse thing I could suffer than being away from her in such trials?
Lately I've been thinking about Jehovah's name because the circuit assembly theme is "Sanctify Jehovah's Holy Name." How his name means he can cause to become whatever is needed to fulfill his purpose. Last year, my lovely sister Jennifer was stressed out. Economic hard times hit Arkansas and Jamie's profession hard. He is a house builder. He is going to school to be a respiratory therapist. In the meantime, Jennifer was a medical transcriptionist juggling too much work and responsibility. So Sister Scully sends an email about her employer looking for house inspectors in Arkansas and do I know anyone who would be interested and qualified?
I guess if you can build a house, you can inspect one. Jamie is doing great and so is Jennifer and their two children. And no one saw that coming, that way out to bless them. So I am heartened that even though I don't know what to think of my job, that Jehovah will not leave me in the lurch.
As I spoke to Fay on the way to the assembly hall Saturday, she offered for Carly to live with her while I am gone if it comes to that. Today, Carly got a card in the mail from Fay. Sometimes I want to hurl rotten tomatoes clear from Pennsylvania to Oklahoma and say, "Mother, how can you not care about my babies?" And I still don't know the answer to that one, but I do know that I have my sister Fay here who does care.
Now, I'm going back downstairs to sit beside one of my doggies and read for class. I don't know when the tribulation is coming, but I am sure we all have the same father and same last name.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Sanctify God's Name
Well I am waiting for the dryer to finish off a batch of clothes. I went downstairs and graded (there is daylight at the end of the paper assignment 2 tunnel) and came upstairs to find dampness, so while I wait, here I am.
Here is my favorite little pearl I picked up at the circuit assembly on Saturday. We have a new circuit overseer that I have not met yet (he comes to Windber the first week of December) but I saw him before the session started and I thought who is that tall fella in a green tie? Of course it was him. Gotta say that tie worked for me! Anyhow, on the part about sanctifying Jehovah's name, he said, "We all have the same father and the same last name."
So when we go out in service, people see us, they don't say there goes Mark Harrison (that's our new CO's name). They say there goes one of Jehovah's Witnesses. We all have the same father, Jehovah, and we all have the same last name, Witnesses.
Ain't that cute?
So anyhow, Fay told me a joke on the way over there. I have to share. It goes like this:
A brother had a talking parrot for many years and when he finished his life's course, his family came along and resold the bird at the pet shop. So a guy buys the bird, takes it home, and the next morning is Sunday. The bird is waking him up and it's saying: "It's Sunday. Time to get up and go to the Kingdom Hall. Get up sleepy head." And the bird will not shut up and let him sleep in so he finally moves the bird to the living room.
The next day when he gets up and is leaving for work, the bird says: "Time for the daily text," over and over till the guy finally goes early just to get away from the squawk box. When he comes home, the bird starts in again saying: "Read the Bible daily," over and over.
The bird is really gorgeous and he wanted a talking bird, but this one has such a limited vocabulary. So he sits there arguing with it and finally saying a few expletives and the bird says "the tongue is a fire James chapter three" over and over till the man blows his cool and grabs the bird and slings it against the wall! Feeling contrite, ashamed, and scared, the man runs over to where the bird lies on the floor, shaking its feathers a little and coming back around but he also has a damaged wing. The bird looks at the man and in a panicky squawk starts saying: No Blood! No Blood!
Which reminds me that Carly is carpooling to Derry for clinical class this month and she and another girl stopped at Petco in Latrobe. Well, all the Halloween costumes for dogs were on clearance and the other girl has a Yorkie and was grabbing all the little outfits. Then she asked Carly if she wanted some because she knows Carly has a Chihuahua. And Carly said, "You can have them. My dog is a Jehovah's Witness so she won't be wearing pumpkin sweaters."
Good night my sisters. We all have the same Father and the same last name.
Here is my favorite little pearl I picked up at the circuit assembly on Saturday. We have a new circuit overseer that I have not met yet (he comes to Windber the first week of December) but I saw him before the session started and I thought who is that tall fella in a green tie? Of course it was him. Gotta say that tie worked for me! Anyhow, on the part about sanctifying Jehovah's name, he said, "We all have the same father and the same last name."
So when we go out in service, people see us, they don't say there goes Mark Harrison (that's our new CO's name). They say there goes one of Jehovah's Witnesses. We all have the same father, Jehovah, and we all have the same last name, Witnesses.
Ain't that cute?
So anyhow, Fay told me a joke on the way over there. I have to share. It goes like this:
A brother had a talking parrot for many years and when he finished his life's course, his family came along and resold the bird at the pet shop. So a guy buys the bird, takes it home, and the next morning is Sunday. The bird is waking him up and it's saying: "It's Sunday. Time to get up and go to the Kingdom Hall. Get up sleepy head." And the bird will not shut up and let him sleep in so he finally moves the bird to the living room.
The next day when he gets up and is leaving for work, the bird says: "Time for the daily text," over and over till the guy finally goes early just to get away from the squawk box. When he comes home, the bird starts in again saying: "Read the Bible daily," over and over.
The bird is really gorgeous and he wanted a talking bird, but this one has such a limited vocabulary. So he sits there arguing with it and finally saying a few expletives and the bird says "the tongue is a fire James chapter three" over and over till the man blows his cool and grabs the bird and slings it against the wall! Feeling contrite, ashamed, and scared, the man runs over to where the bird lies on the floor, shaking its feathers a little and coming back around but he also has a damaged wing. The bird looks at the man and in a panicky squawk starts saying: No Blood! No Blood!
Which reminds me that Carly is carpooling to Derry for clinical class this month and she and another girl stopped at Petco in Latrobe. Well, all the Halloween costumes for dogs were on clearance and the other girl has a Yorkie and was grabbing all the little outfits. Then she asked Carly if she wanted some because she knows Carly has a Chihuahua. And Carly said, "You can have them. My dog is a Jehovah's Witness so she won't be wearing pumpkin sweaters."
Good night my sisters. We all have the same Father and the same last name.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Circuit Assembly tomorrow!
Got to get up at the crack of dawn, so no blogging. But I'm pretty happy. See you late Sunday.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
worldly people stink
I'm worn out. I had all my nerves ready to go but the thing is, I asked to read my dossier from humanities. I had to request it with a signed document which I sent in 9/20. I still have not received that document. My panel did not want to meet with me till I read it. So my meeting was postponed. I was all dressed up, no place to go, but happily the chair of my panel was upset with the people who were supposed to take care of this six weeks ago and he let them know it.
A little poetic justice.
That's all I know today. My brain is scrambled eggs. Goodnight.
A little poetic justice.
That's all I know today. My brain is scrambled eggs. Goodnight.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Obadiah or Hosea
One of those 12 guys has that passage where he says over and over, "How long must I wait, oh Jehovah, how long to see justice done."
I am not enslaved to Babylon, but sometimes I feel enslaved to American culture, to education, and of course we are all enslaved to sin.
For the past 2.5 years I've been through crazy stupid stuff at work over the non-renewal of my contract. Tomorrow I meet with the appeals panel at 2:00 to present my case to people who are not personally biased or involved. If there is any justice in the world, it will turn out okay. But I am not confident that there is any outside of Paterson NY or a Kingdom Hall.
At any rate, I promised to be back in the saddle, but I spent all evening rereading all my relevant files and I feel sick at my stomach and I'm going to bed. I mean, I feel worse than going to have a scheduled C-section or a scheduled eye surgery. I feel all shook up. I bet my blood pressure is up. I'll be glad when this is all over no matter how it turns out.
No meeting tomorrow night because we have our Circuit Assembly this weekend. I am likely to need two days of brotherhood no matter what.
Goodnight for now.
I am not enslaved to Babylon, but sometimes I feel enslaved to American culture, to education, and of course we are all enslaved to sin.
For the past 2.5 years I've been through crazy stupid stuff at work over the non-renewal of my contract. Tomorrow I meet with the appeals panel at 2:00 to present my case to people who are not personally biased or involved. If there is any justice in the world, it will turn out okay. But I am not confident that there is any outside of Paterson NY or a Kingdom Hall.
At any rate, I promised to be back in the saddle, but I spent all evening rereading all my relevant files and I feel sick at my stomach and I'm going to bed. I mean, I feel worse than going to have a scheduled C-section or a scheduled eye surgery. I feel all shook up. I bet my blood pressure is up. I'll be glad when this is all over no matter how it turns out.
No meeting tomorrow night because we have our Circuit Assembly this weekend. I am likely to need two days of brotherhood no matter what.
Goodnight for now.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Shoe Swans
Today, determined to eat, I went to Shoe Swans, which is the English spelling of a particular style of Chinese cooking that is spelled Szechuan but sounds like shoes swans when we say it. I don't know what it sounds like when a Pennsylvanian says it. I can't remember if any of them have said it in front of me. UNESCO, which is some acronym for united nations education science and cultural organization, anyhow, they named the city Ugendo in SW China the 2011 city of Gastronomy because it is such a good place to eat. I knew that! Mainly we go to Main Moon or Hong Kong as a congregation. Now that they can say normally, although I still get a kick out of the words length and strength. Even when Abel would say it sometimes I would think you can't seriously think about eternity listening to that.
Well, so my new sister Laura wrote me that I need not feel bummed out that it looked like I was chasing Abel to Wendy's last Thursday and talk to them if I can't get past it. I actually think I'm past it, but I'm so glad someone understands that I got over this man and his strength of accent. Here's something that would have made me mad if I was invested in the topic, but as it is, it just made me tired. I mean, you know how that works, right? I used to fight all the time with my husband, knock down drag outs, and then we stopped fighting like that. He would try to pick a fight and I would not rise to the bait. I didn't want to fight anymore. It wasn't worth it. I was tired of all the drama. And that is when it was over for us. I was no longer invested enough to fight for a relationship to work.
The same thing happened with my mother. I told my students today, when we were talking about how everyone has different shoes to fill, hats to wear, roles to deliver, that when I am with my mother I am 12 years old again. I haven't seen her since I was 46, but I was 12 that day. And it is so sad. She started a fight with us, she even pushed Kim at the top of the stairs to her den (only four steps, but brick!) and we just calmly packed up and pulled out. She is never ever going to see that I am an adult or have a lick of sense, and she is always going to believe she has the only right viewpoint, and I give up trying to make her think anything else. One of my students gave me a sticker that says something like there comes a time when you realize you may love someone with all your heart, but they cannot be part of your life. Well, that's my mother.
And that's how it is with Abel now. I get enough of something and I pull out and I'm done. So they don't need to tiptoe around me in fear I'm going to start hanging on their every word anymore and think someone over at their place hung the moon. Besides, I am moving either this summer or the next, so it's all moot.
Anyhow, when we were at Bethel, the view at Paterson out the big glass doors facing the gardens, well, they have this waterfall, four slabs with the water tumbling so smooth, so pretty it nearly put my eyes out. Our guide said that they had a Bethelite get married and take all the pictures there. They did the vows at the hall, but the pictures were all taken there, and I tell you, that would be the most wonderful backdrop for wedding pictures on this planet.
So the brother from our congregation who was leading my group looks at me and says, "there you go. You could take your wedding pictures here."
To which I promptly snorted and said, "not happening."
He said, "oh it could happen."
How many Watchtowers have commented on singleness for our sisters and brothers and respecting their wishes? I wasn't really mad because my wish two years ago was for a husband. But now, I wish just as hard that nobody bothers me because I got things to do and I do not want any responsibilities but these girls, and I look forward to light at the end of this tunnel of love
So I brought home Chinese food to my two little dependent baby girls, and on the way I went to Wal-Mart and got 50% off candy. Kind of our tradition, haha. This sister in Arkansas named Pat who had about seven kids and is somehow married to a nephew of my little Ruth, something like that (because just like this place, everyone back there is related to either the Copelands, the Oxfords, the Billingsleys, or the Walters. Here, the names are strange but they are all intertwined on some serious family tree branches) anyhow, once Pat's youngest son, Ty, was going through this Spiderman phase, and he would hold out his hand flat and make this sound. Pat explained that it was the sound of his web spinning out of his hand.
So on this day about eight years ago I went into Walmart and there were Spiderman gloves leftover from the most pagan of the pagan celebrations, and I got a pair for Ty but I wasn't sure Pat would approve. When I asked her (being smart despite my mother's opinion, haha, take that Mom! because I was smart enough to check with Pat before letting Ty know about the gloves) if he could have them, she said: "Of course. After the sacrifice, it's just meat."
We have a lot of candy tonight and I have just eaten four little dark Hershey bars as I sat here writing you. I let each one melt down slowly, savoring it, and then proceeded to the next one. I made a deal that I could write till the chocolate wore out, and then I had to grade the rest of a stack of papers. I wish now I had brought five or six little bars. I am making myself eat dark chocolate because no one else likes it and it is supposed to be healthier. Some kind of antioxidant. By the 4th one, they were tasting pretty good. I might not go back to milk chocolate. Yeah, I got mostly Reese's because I don't like peanut butter.
So now my chow-meined dark chocolate bellied self must bid you adieu and try to explain for maybe the 826th time why you cannot pass on a paper with no thesis statement, but you can blog like mad without one.
Well, so my new sister Laura wrote me that I need not feel bummed out that it looked like I was chasing Abel to Wendy's last Thursday and talk to them if I can't get past it. I actually think I'm past it, but I'm so glad someone understands that I got over this man and his strength of accent. Here's something that would have made me mad if I was invested in the topic, but as it is, it just made me tired. I mean, you know how that works, right? I used to fight all the time with my husband, knock down drag outs, and then we stopped fighting like that. He would try to pick a fight and I would not rise to the bait. I didn't want to fight anymore. It wasn't worth it. I was tired of all the drama. And that is when it was over for us. I was no longer invested enough to fight for a relationship to work.
The same thing happened with my mother. I told my students today, when we were talking about how everyone has different shoes to fill, hats to wear, roles to deliver, that when I am with my mother I am 12 years old again. I haven't seen her since I was 46, but I was 12 that day. And it is so sad. She started a fight with us, she even pushed Kim at the top of the stairs to her den (only four steps, but brick!) and we just calmly packed up and pulled out. She is never ever going to see that I am an adult or have a lick of sense, and she is always going to believe she has the only right viewpoint, and I give up trying to make her think anything else. One of my students gave me a sticker that says something like there comes a time when you realize you may love someone with all your heart, but they cannot be part of your life. Well, that's my mother.
And that's how it is with Abel now. I get enough of something and I pull out and I'm done. So they don't need to tiptoe around me in fear I'm going to start hanging on their every word anymore and think someone over at their place hung the moon. Besides, I am moving either this summer or the next, so it's all moot.
Anyhow, when we were at Bethel, the view at Paterson out the big glass doors facing the gardens, well, they have this waterfall, four slabs with the water tumbling so smooth, so pretty it nearly put my eyes out. Our guide said that they had a Bethelite get married and take all the pictures there. They did the vows at the hall, but the pictures were all taken there, and I tell you, that would be the most wonderful backdrop for wedding pictures on this planet.
So the brother from our congregation who was leading my group looks at me and says, "there you go. You could take your wedding pictures here."
To which I promptly snorted and said, "not happening."
He said, "oh it could happen."
How many Watchtowers have commented on singleness for our sisters and brothers and respecting their wishes? I wasn't really mad because my wish two years ago was for a husband. But now, I wish just as hard that nobody bothers me because I got things to do and I do not want any responsibilities but these girls, and I look forward to light at the end of this tunnel of love
So I brought home Chinese food to my two little dependent baby girls, and on the way I went to Wal-Mart and got 50% off candy. Kind of our tradition, haha. This sister in Arkansas named Pat who had about seven kids and is somehow married to a nephew of my little Ruth, something like that (because just like this place, everyone back there is related to either the Copelands, the Oxfords, the Billingsleys, or the Walters. Here, the names are strange but they are all intertwined on some serious family tree branches) anyhow, once Pat's youngest son, Ty, was going through this Spiderman phase, and he would hold out his hand flat and make this sound. Pat explained that it was the sound of his web spinning out of his hand.
So on this day about eight years ago I went into Walmart and there were Spiderman gloves leftover from the most pagan of the pagan celebrations, and I got a pair for Ty but I wasn't sure Pat would approve. When I asked her (being smart despite my mother's opinion, haha, take that Mom! because I was smart enough to check with Pat before letting Ty know about the gloves) if he could have them, she said: "Of course. After the sacrifice, it's just meat."
We have a lot of candy tonight and I have just eaten four little dark Hershey bars as I sat here writing you. I let each one melt down slowly, savoring it, and then proceeded to the next one. I made a deal that I could write till the chocolate wore out, and then I had to grade the rest of a stack of papers. I wish now I had brought five or six little bars. I am making myself eat dark chocolate because no one else likes it and it is supposed to be healthier. Some kind of antioxidant. By the 4th one, they were tasting pretty good. I might not go back to milk chocolate. Yeah, I got mostly Reese's because I don't like peanut butter.
So now my chow-meined dark chocolate bellied self must bid you adieu and try to explain for maybe the 826th time why you cannot pass on a paper with no thesis statement, but you can blog like mad without one.
Monday, October 31, 2011
too busy to eat
Well, you know that being too busy to eat hardly ever happens to me. But today it did. I had a partial bag of Clancy (from Aldi's) Kettle Corn which is identical to me (except price) to that Indiana business that is $3.28 at Wally World. That was all I had till I got home about 7:30 and had two bratwurst. Later, another bratwurst and a piece of sweet potato pie.
I'm too busy to eat these days. I'll tell you a bad habit I slipped back into that month when I hardly blogged. I started playing bookworm again. Online. A word game, like boggle for one person. I am like a dopehead loser on that thing, except that I am a winner on that thing. It takes me forever to lose and go to bed. Nine times out of ten, I end up clicking out of it because my hand is cramping on the house and/or I fear I will wake up with keys imprinted on my forehead where I fell asleep at the desk.
There is something so wonderful to me about connecting letters into words. I love that. A puzzle that never ends. I think language is the coolest gift Jehovah gave us most days. Today I even think it's better than food. Maybe I am getting old and stuff doesn't taste as good to me. I am just so distracted I don't even think about food and I can't tell you the last thing I cooked unless it was thrown into a microwave or a crock pot.
And I'm fine with that and do not want a husband for that reason. I'm fine with not cooking.
When we went to Bethel, the brother who planned the trip said he had a surprise lunch for us on Monday between Walkill and Paterson. Our Bethel guide blew it when she told us as we toured the dining hall and saw the signs saying guest table that we'd be seated at one of those.
We had pork loin, mashed potatoes, roasted cauliflower, bread (homemade, not no funky Wonder Bread) and this salad to die for. I could have eaten a bushel of it with that fresh dressing. If it was a bottle of dressing I'd be in Giant Eagle buying it, but it was made from scratch, with garlic, vinegar and oil, I don't know what all, but Jean Kammerer took a drink of it on her spoon it was good enough to have straight. And for dessert, a Kentucky butter cake that was just the right sweetness and lightness.
There was nothing fast food about it - the dishes all reminded me of my grandmother's kitchen, especially the aluminum pitchers for the ice water. We passed bowls around. Platters. We had heavy silverware. It was just the most awesome thing to be in a dining room with that many witnesses and not a drop of bickering or anything but love. So different from going to a restaurant with non-believers all around. Our guide said they don't do any laundry or clean their own rooms or anything but work and service. I mean, the people who work in the kitchen cook and the ones in the laundry do that full-time, but that's it. I missed my calling. I'm a Bethelite, and yes I really had to fight the urge to ask to be shown the writing room and talk to the people in charge of that. The translation areas were very awesome though.
Our guide said they only get pecan pie once or twice a year when someone from down south donates enough pecans. Made me want to own a pecan orchard in Georgia just so I could send them some nuts. And I thought well, I'd be a lot better off if I didn't get junk food all the time. Or today, no food.
The main thing that was so impressive was how immaculate everything was. I have never been anywhere so clean. I tell you, it was my idea of heaven. I seriously want to be a Bethelite if the girls ever fly out of my nest and they need an old fat woman who can give up pecan pie. I would do anything from clean bathrooms to wash that heavy silverware.
I mean to get healthy, or healthier. I don't know when that is supposed to happen. I have not had a day off since we left NY and I don't anticipate having one again till Thanksgiving break, when I also have to read my textbooks for spring and steam clean the carpets again because, you know, I like immaculate. I cannot achieve it with two dogs and two daughters, but it is something I aspire to achieve.
I guess getting enough sleep would be a good place to start. The trouble with bookworm is you can make all the Bible names you want but they are proper nouns so the game doesn't take them so you really don't think about anything spiritual. So I am going to get myself healthy spiritually at least, or better than I was, by keeping my focus here. It was helping, and then I got sidetracked. That old Devil!
Now though, I need that sleep. Good night.
I'm too busy to eat these days. I'll tell you a bad habit I slipped back into that month when I hardly blogged. I started playing bookworm again. Online. A word game, like boggle for one person. I am like a dopehead loser on that thing, except that I am a winner on that thing. It takes me forever to lose and go to bed. Nine times out of ten, I end up clicking out of it because my hand is cramping on the house and/or I fear I will wake up with keys imprinted on my forehead where I fell asleep at the desk.
There is something so wonderful to me about connecting letters into words. I love that. A puzzle that never ends. I think language is the coolest gift Jehovah gave us most days. Today I even think it's better than food. Maybe I am getting old and stuff doesn't taste as good to me. I am just so distracted I don't even think about food and I can't tell you the last thing I cooked unless it was thrown into a microwave or a crock pot.
And I'm fine with that and do not want a husband for that reason. I'm fine with not cooking.
When we went to Bethel, the brother who planned the trip said he had a surprise lunch for us on Monday between Walkill and Paterson. Our Bethel guide blew it when she told us as we toured the dining hall and saw the signs saying guest table that we'd be seated at one of those.
We had pork loin, mashed potatoes, roasted cauliflower, bread (homemade, not no funky Wonder Bread) and this salad to die for. I could have eaten a bushel of it with that fresh dressing. If it was a bottle of dressing I'd be in Giant Eagle buying it, but it was made from scratch, with garlic, vinegar and oil, I don't know what all, but Jean Kammerer took a drink of it on her spoon it was good enough to have straight. And for dessert, a Kentucky butter cake that was just the right sweetness and lightness.
There was nothing fast food about it - the dishes all reminded me of my grandmother's kitchen, especially the aluminum pitchers for the ice water. We passed bowls around. Platters. We had heavy silverware. It was just the most awesome thing to be in a dining room with that many witnesses and not a drop of bickering or anything but love. So different from going to a restaurant with non-believers all around. Our guide said they don't do any laundry or clean their own rooms or anything but work and service. I mean, the people who work in the kitchen cook and the ones in the laundry do that full-time, but that's it. I missed my calling. I'm a Bethelite, and yes I really had to fight the urge to ask to be shown the writing room and talk to the people in charge of that. The translation areas were very awesome though.
Our guide said they only get pecan pie once or twice a year when someone from down south donates enough pecans. Made me want to own a pecan orchard in Georgia just so I could send them some nuts. And I thought well, I'd be a lot better off if I didn't get junk food all the time. Or today, no food.
The main thing that was so impressive was how immaculate everything was. I have never been anywhere so clean. I tell you, it was my idea of heaven. I seriously want to be a Bethelite if the girls ever fly out of my nest and they need an old fat woman who can give up pecan pie. I would do anything from clean bathrooms to wash that heavy silverware.
I mean to get healthy, or healthier. I don't know when that is supposed to happen. I have not had a day off since we left NY and I don't anticipate having one again till Thanksgiving break, when I also have to read my textbooks for spring and steam clean the carpets again because, you know, I like immaculate. I cannot achieve it with two dogs and two daughters, but it is something I aspire to achieve.
I guess getting enough sleep would be a good place to start. The trouble with bookworm is you can make all the Bible names you want but they are proper nouns so the game doesn't take them so you really don't think about anything spiritual. So I am going to get myself healthy spiritually at least, or better than I was, by keeping my focus here. It was helping, and then I got sidetracked. That old Devil!
Now though, I need that sleep. Good night.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Guilty as Charged
Well, I have heard from my public, and they miss me. I didn't realize this many of you were reading my blog, but after six people in three days comment on it that they want to know if I'm okay, I figure I better get back in the saddle.
For one thing, I have a novel coming out next month called "The Memory of Orchids" and I have had to edit it twice and one more time before it goes to press - I don't know what day this week it is coming, but one day this week it'll be in my inbox and I will drop everything to read it once again. Whew.
And I am looking for a job. My contract here expires on April 30, though I have paychecks till August 31, and I have appealed the decision not to renew, meeting with that committee this Thursday, and between arguing my appeal and searching for employment and teaching an override/extra course (comp, which I am in the midst of grading paper two this weekend. I'm not going to get done, so I might as well blog) I do not know what day of the week it is unless I look in my gradebook.
I did finally get to go to Bethel this past month, both Paterson and Walkill, and then we went for the museum tour at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. All I can say is I have never applied for jobs in NYC but now I am. I would live in a shoe box (likely where I would literally be) to be there amidst all that culture and restaurants.
Especially after living HERE. I can say Auburn asked for my extended dossier, and I sure would like to go there however. Alabama! Woo hoo. But I'm sure they asked over a dozen people. What happens is I send a letter (each one has to be different, edited, to suit the school) and my resume (called a curriculum vitae in academia, no idea why, never wondered) and then if they like me they ask for samples of my published writing, samples of my syllabi/assignments, my transcripts, letters of reference, on and on. Some of them want those things in different order in different combinations, so I spend all my time in my office printing this or that combination to mail out. Some of them now ask for online attachments and that is worse (since I have free professional postage) because it means I gotta type up my name and address and all that jazz each time individually. So it gets pretty annoying.
That's about all I know. I chopped off all my hair. Well, Abel's daughter did. I have been confused over my hair. It was getting such a lot of gray that the henna I was using (strawberry blonde) was having a hard time covering it. It felt like I was using it every five weeks. Five years ago, I was using it every eight weeks. So, brilliant idea that I get sometimes, I ordered henna this summer in the next lighter shade, champagne.
I put it in and it was nearly blonde, my roots. I put it on all over but the strawberry blonde did not get lighter. So I went to see Abel's daughter and she stripped the henna out. It took three bleach soap rounds and once my hair turned green.
When she got done, it was very blonde, and it felt like straw. I was heart broken. Then, my roots grew out. Have you ever seen someone with DARK roots growing out? But at least that hair was normal. That wheat straw damaged hair was so funky I did not want to touch it! That has never happened to me.
So I gave in. I ordered the strawberry blonde henna and I chopped off the straw last week. The henna came and I put it in this morning. I feel like me again. I guess I'm not meant to ever be blonde or gray. If this old system would just get a move on, I hope I never have to find out how I look with silver, white, or mostly gray hair.
Seriously, one of the most wonderful things I look forward to in the new order is seeming my Little Ruth with red hair. She was such a knock out in her pictures. I mean, Sarah's got nothing on her.
So, I got my feelings hurt this week. I didn't even know it at first. Do you ever do that? You do something, say something, interact with someone, and then a few days later you think oh man, that is how they meant that? Here is what happened.
I want to hand copies of my books out to certain audiences. Mostly, to surrounding area colleges that have visiting writers. You cannot go be a visiting writer without a book. The colleges want to be able to sell your book in their book stores, and you don't have enough clout to get paid as a visiting writer without a book. (You would not believe how much better of a job I can apply for now as well. Arkansas requires two books to be on their faculty, but it's one of the TOP programs in the nation). Anyhow, I could get all expenses paid and make, depending on the size of the school, between 500 and 1250 a pop for these little one-day excursions. I want to get the calendar out and start marking it up!
But to get going, these people have to know who you are and what your book is. I cannot afford to send all these places a copy of my book. So I was going to download the pdf to a cd along with my very photo-shopped picture (thank you Kimberly for all the exxed out wrinkles and the pretty red hair, no gray!) and also reviews, the cover of the book as a pdf, and the articles in the local papers (I already had one). And my contact information.
I have nice cd covers and have color copied the book cover for the cd cover. Well, Abel burned me some cds back in the good old days of our friendship, and he burned not only the music into them but he also burned the top of it with a design that looks like the record company put it out. It is tres professionale, dahling.
I asked him how he did it. He has a light scribe program/burner. I can get an external one for about 30 bucks. The cds are a little more than average. The kicker is it takes 30 minutes to burn each one and I want to do about 120. (I am also sending to newspapers in AR and OK and a few reviewers of literary journals). I asked him how to do it and for all the details and we talked after the meeting Thursday night for quite a little bit.
Then the meeting was over and I drove through Wendy's and got burgers and that new caramel apple frosty thing for the girls. I used to go to Wendy's after meeting with Abel and his parents and also sometimes McDonald's in Windber where the Hall is.
Of course I'm driving through and of course they short me two burgers. There is a line to Kingdom Come so I go inside and there are is Abel and his parents. Too late to turn around. So I tell the counter girl and says my two burgers will be out in a minute so I go over to the table where they are while I wait and say wow, you didn't invite me! You know the way I am. All southern big mouth redneck.
We spoke for a few minutes, but they call it fast food for a reason, and I wasn't waiting very long. I came straight home, looked at the external light scribe drive things to price them, and sent Abel an email about it saying hey, do you think I could work this thing? Because he ain't got time to burn them but I could easily do the half hour thing as I go back and forth to classes all day. He sent back maybe his briefest email ever. I wrote back and said this is what I was planning and this is how I'm doing it and this is what your daughter said while she was cutting my hair off. I seriously had no romance afoot, nothing plotting. I am glad nothing worked out for us and right now, I finally have resolved I intend to remain single till the new world. I am kind of liking it of late. I see freedom after launching the girls that I do not want to sacrifice for some guy who wants cream pie on his schedule and I want to write or blog or just sit on my buns.
I guess I got old. Sex was never that great anyhow. Okay, so then Saturday I was in my office all day applying for jobs and it occurred to me Abel never emailed me back. He didn't have to of course, and actually I was just running my fingers and didn't ask him anything so there was nothing specific to answer.
Then I thought about how when I said well, you didn't invite me in Wendy's, that they still didn't ask me to sit down and stay a few minutes. And he still never emailed me back, and I went up to him at the hall because of course, blind to how anyone feels about me, all I could think about was I needed to know about burning the tops of cds.
I don't know. I considered moving back to East Hills congregation and then the trip to Bethel came up just for members of Windber. Now, it looks like I'll be moving in July so why bother? But I just thought good grief, do you think you have to avoid me so I won't get all wrapped up in you again? Because seriously, I am moving on, depending on this job situation, either in 2012 or 2013, and I sure ain't dragging a man with me when I go. All the pies are going to be on my schedule from now on.
Am I crazy? Reading too much into stuff? I know. I can over analyze something to death. That is what writers and literary critics do. The problem is always knowing when to stop doing that in your real life.
I still have papers to finish. I missed you all. I'll get my groove back on now that I know you missed me.
For one thing, I have a novel coming out next month called "The Memory of Orchids" and I have had to edit it twice and one more time before it goes to press - I don't know what day this week it is coming, but one day this week it'll be in my inbox and I will drop everything to read it once again. Whew.
And I am looking for a job. My contract here expires on April 30, though I have paychecks till August 31, and I have appealed the decision not to renew, meeting with that committee this Thursday, and between arguing my appeal and searching for employment and teaching an override/extra course (comp, which I am in the midst of grading paper two this weekend. I'm not going to get done, so I might as well blog) I do not know what day of the week it is unless I look in my gradebook.
I did finally get to go to Bethel this past month, both Paterson and Walkill, and then we went for the museum tour at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. All I can say is I have never applied for jobs in NYC but now I am. I would live in a shoe box (likely where I would literally be) to be there amidst all that culture and restaurants.
Especially after living HERE. I can say Auburn asked for my extended dossier, and I sure would like to go there however. Alabama! Woo hoo. But I'm sure they asked over a dozen people. What happens is I send a letter (each one has to be different, edited, to suit the school) and my resume (called a curriculum vitae in academia, no idea why, never wondered) and then if they like me they ask for samples of my published writing, samples of my syllabi/assignments, my transcripts, letters of reference, on and on. Some of them want those things in different order in different combinations, so I spend all my time in my office printing this or that combination to mail out. Some of them now ask for online attachments and that is worse (since I have free professional postage) because it means I gotta type up my name and address and all that jazz each time individually. So it gets pretty annoying.
That's about all I know. I chopped off all my hair. Well, Abel's daughter did. I have been confused over my hair. It was getting such a lot of gray that the henna I was using (strawberry blonde) was having a hard time covering it. It felt like I was using it every five weeks. Five years ago, I was using it every eight weeks. So, brilliant idea that I get sometimes, I ordered henna this summer in the next lighter shade, champagne.
I put it in and it was nearly blonde, my roots. I put it on all over but the strawberry blonde did not get lighter. So I went to see Abel's daughter and she stripped the henna out. It took three bleach soap rounds and once my hair turned green.
When she got done, it was very blonde, and it felt like straw. I was heart broken. Then, my roots grew out. Have you ever seen someone with DARK roots growing out? But at least that hair was normal. That wheat straw damaged hair was so funky I did not want to touch it! That has never happened to me.
So I gave in. I ordered the strawberry blonde henna and I chopped off the straw last week. The henna came and I put it in this morning. I feel like me again. I guess I'm not meant to ever be blonde or gray. If this old system would just get a move on, I hope I never have to find out how I look with silver, white, or mostly gray hair.
Seriously, one of the most wonderful things I look forward to in the new order is seeming my Little Ruth with red hair. She was such a knock out in her pictures. I mean, Sarah's got nothing on her.
So, I got my feelings hurt this week. I didn't even know it at first. Do you ever do that? You do something, say something, interact with someone, and then a few days later you think oh man, that is how they meant that? Here is what happened.
I want to hand copies of my books out to certain audiences. Mostly, to surrounding area colleges that have visiting writers. You cannot go be a visiting writer without a book. The colleges want to be able to sell your book in their book stores, and you don't have enough clout to get paid as a visiting writer without a book. (You would not believe how much better of a job I can apply for now as well. Arkansas requires two books to be on their faculty, but it's one of the TOP programs in the nation). Anyhow, I could get all expenses paid and make, depending on the size of the school, between 500 and 1250 a pop for these little one-day excursions. I want to get the calendar out and start marking it up!
But to get going, these people have to know who you are and what your book is. I cannot afford to send all these places a copy of my book. So I was going to download the pdf to a cd along with my very photo-shopped picture (thank you Kimberly for all the exxed out wrinkles and the pretty red hair, no gray!) and also reviews, the cover of the book as a pdf, and the articles in the local papers (I already had one). And my contact information.
I have nice cd covers and have color copied the book cover for the cd cover. Well, Abel burned me some cds back in the good old days of our friendship, and he burned not only the music into them but he also burned the top of it with a design that looks like the record company put it out. It is tres professionale, dahling.
I asked him how he did it. He has a light scribe program/burner. I can get an external one for about 30 bucks. The cds are a little more than average. The kicker is it takes 30 minutes to burn each one and I want to do about 120. (I am also sending to newspapers in AR and OK and a few reviewers of literary journals). I asked him how to do it and for all the details and we talked after the meeting Thursday night for quite a little bit.
Then the meeting was over and I drove through Wendy's and got burgers and that new caramel apple frosty thing for the girls. I used to go to Wendy's after meeting with Abel and his parents and also sometimes McDonald's in Windber where the Hall is.
Of course I'm driving through and of course they short me two burgers. There is a line to Kingdom Come so I go inside and there are is Abel and his parents. Too late to turn around. So I tell the counter girl and says my two burgers will be out in a minute so I go over to the table where they are while I wait and say wow, you didn't invite me! You know the way I am. All southern big mouth redneck.
We spoke for a few minutes, but they call it fast food for a reason, and I wasn't waiting very long. I came straight home, looked at the external light scribe drive things to price them, and sent Abel an email about it saying hey, do you think I could work this thing? Because he ain't got time to burn them but I could easily do the half hour thing as I go back and forth to classes all day. He sent back maybe his briefest email ever. I wrote back and said this is what I was planning and this is how I'm doing it and this is what your daughter said while she was cutting my hair off. I seriously had no romance afoot, nothing plotting. I am glad nothing worked out for us and right now, I finally have resolved I intend to remain single till the new world. I am kind of liking it of late. I see freedom after launching the girls that I do not want to sacrifice for some guy who wants cream pie on his schedule and I want to write or blog or just sit on my buns.
I guess I got old. Sex was never that great anyhow. Okay, so then Saturday I was in my office all day applying for jobs and it occurred to me Abel never emailed me back. He didn't have to of course, and actually I was just running my fingers and didn't ask him anything so there was nothing specific to answer.
Then I thought about how when I said well, you didn't invite me in Wendy's, that they still didn't ask me to sit down and stay a few minutes. And he still never emailed me back, and I went up to him at the hall because of course, blind to how anyone feels about me, all I could think about was I needed to know about burning the tops of cds.
I don't know. I considered moving back to East Hills congregation and then the trip to Bethel came up just for members of Windber. Now, it looks like I'll be moving in July so why bother? But I just thought good grief, do you think you have to avoid me so I won't get all wrapped up in you again? Because seriously, I am moving on, depending on this job situation, either in 2012 or 2013, and I sure ain't dragging a man with me when I go. All the pies are going to be on my schedule from now on.
Am I crazy? Reading too much into stuff? I know. I can over analyze something to death. That is what writers and literary critics do. The problem is always knowing when to stop doing that in your real life.
I still have papers to finish. I missed you all. I'll get my groove back on now that I know you missed me.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Reviled and Bolstered
No school today so we scooted over in the gorgeous weather to Target, of course. And Sonic.
Won't be much more of that with winter oncoming. I just checked the chronicle of higher education to see if any new jobs were listed for English teachers, and there was one in Alaska. Somehow, I think that might even be worse than this. And can you think of anywhere I could go that would be FARTHER to go than that from here?
I found stuff on sale, but not the haul we made last time. I got some jewelry and some spiral notebooks. We went to Sam's and got a few things. Vitamins. I managed to spend all I had budgeted to spend, so go figure. Money doesn't go anywhere anymore except flying out of my hands.
Anyhow, I was thinking about the Watchtower yesterday. There were two cool words. Haha, there were many cool words. But two I particularly noticed. The first one was bolstered. There was a passage about our faith being bolstered. They could have said strengthened, but that really would not be the same. Here is why: Bolster means supported, given a foundation. Like, have you ever been to Target and saw a bolster pillow for sale? Sometimes they are also called neck rolls. The thing is, they are very important medically in some instances because they support the spinal column and its connection to the brain - which is where we think. So if our faith is bolstered, it is supported and protects our thinking.
That's pretty sharp. Also the WT spoke of how Jesus would not revile those bringing him up on charges, but they reviled him. It doesn't say they taunted him or jeered or any other lesser words. The root word there in vile is also the word where we form the word vilify or villain. So they were making Jesus the villain. A criminal. They were saying he deserved the execution on that basis. No wonder Jesus didn't want to reproach his Father's name that way.
Afterwards, a couple of people told me they enjoyed those comments. I don't know how to read without seeing the connections between all the words. I wonder if mechanics see motors that way, all the ways the parts connect to run the vehicle. Artists see that way. My mother could do that. She could look at fabric and a pattern and she knew how the dress would turn out. She could do the same way decorating a room. I can too, but it would kill her to admit I inherited anything from her.
Carly got her teeth cleaned this week and we have a woman dentist. When she came out, she said the dentist had Grandma's perfume on and she didn't know whether to smile or gag. I said well, you didn't know if you were reviled or bolstered I guess.
Life is funny that way. I am ready for a vacation. I kind of think going to Bethel next week for three days will be a break in a wonderful awesome way. In the meantime, it's late and I have a load of clothes to fold up and then sleep.
Won't be much more of that with winter oncoming. I just checked the chronicle of higher education to see if any new jobs were listed for English teachers, and there was one in Alaska. Somehow, I think that might even be worse than this. And can you think of anywhere I could go that would be FARTHER to go than that from here?
I found stuff on sale, but not the haul we made last time. I got some jewelry and some spiral notebooks. We went to Sam's and got a few things. Vitamins. I managed to spend all I had budgeted to spend, so go figure. Money doesn't go anywhere anymore except flying out of my hands.
Anyhow, I was thinking about the Watchtower yesterday. There were two cool words. Haha, there were many cool words. But two I particularly noticed. The first one was bolstered. There was a passage about our faith being bolstered. They could have said strengthened, but that really would not be the same. Here is why: Bolster means supported, given a foundation. Like, have you ever been to Target and saw a bolster pillow for sale? Sometimes they are also called neck rolls. The thing is, they are very important medically in some instances because they support the spinal column and its connection to the brain - which is where we think. So if our faith is bolstered, it is supported and protects our thinking.
That's pretty sharp. Also the WT spoke of how Jesus would not revile those bringing him up on charges, but they reviled him. It doesn't say they taunted him or jeered or any other lesser words. The root word there in vile is also the word where we form the word vilify or villain. So they were making Jesus the villain. A criminal. They were saying he deserved the execution on that basis. No wonder Jesus didn't want to reproach his Father's name that way.
Afterwards, a couple of people told me they enjoyed those comments. I don't know how to read without seeing the connections between all the words. I wonder if mechanics see motors that way, all the ways the parts connect to run the vehicle. Artists see that way. My mother could do that. She could look at fabric and a pattern and she knew how the dress would turn out. She could do the same way decorating a room. I can too, but it would kill her to admit I inherited anything from her.
Carly got her teeth cleaned this week and we have a woman dentist. When she came out, she said the dentist had Grandma's perfume on and she didn't know whether to smile or gag. I said well, you didn't know if you were reviled or bolstered I guess.
Life is funny that way. I am ready for a vacation. I kind of think going to Bethel next week for three days will be a break in a wonderful awesome way. In the meantime, it's late and I have a load of clothes to fold up and then sleep.
Friday, October 7, 2011
all work and no play
makes Cherri a very dull girl.
I am applying for jobs. It's an arduous process. I found a couple in Texas that would put me close to my Little Ruth, so I sure enough am hoping for one of them. There are a few good ones that would be such a much better fit for my talents.
I have missed you sisters. Tonight I was in TJMaxx looking at little girl clothes. I think I'm going to be a better honorary aunt for Jordyn than for Jace, haha.
But I can say I sent him some monkey Paul Frank shirts from Target and he likes them and wears them to school. Man, I wish I could be there to go to the park with him and let Jennifer sleep with Jordyn some afternoons.
Anyhow, I'll show you the cover of my upcoming novel. I have a big day tomorrow with a conference I have to drive to with two students. Then it calms down but I go to Bethel with about half our congregation next Sunday-Tuesday. Maybe then, some downtime? I wish.
Goodnight. I got an early and long day tomorrow.
I am applying for jobs. It's an arduous process. I found a couple in Texas that would put me close to my Little Ruth, so I sure enough am hoping for one of them. There are a few good ones that would be such a much better fit for my talents.
I have missed you sisters. Tonight I was in TJMaxx looking at little girl clothes. I think I'm going to be a better honorary aunt for Jordyn than for Jace, haha.
But I can say I sent him some monkey Paul Frank shirts from Target and he likes them and wears them to school. Man, I wish I could be there to go to the park with him and let Jennifer sleep with Jordyn some afternoons.
Anyhow, I'll show you the cover of my upcoming novel. I have a big day tomorrow with a conference I have to drive to with two students. Then it calms down but I go to Bethel with about half our congregation next Sunday-Tuesday. Maybe then, some downtime? I wish.
Goodnight. I got an early and long day tomorrow.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
my apologies
Ya'll, I miss my blog. I'm sorry I've been so swamped. It's good news though in a way. I started a blog to keep me writing, and that's all I've done this week.
I have an essay coming out in an anthology this winter and I have a novel being published this winter! And all I have done other than school work is edit this book with the publisher, back and forth. But, I'm going to have a book out, and be in another one!
So, I'm swamped. I promise to keep you updated asap.
I have an essay coming out in an anthology this winter and I have a novel being published this winter! And all I have done other than school work is edit this book with the publisher, back and forth. But, I'm going to have a book out, and be in another one!
So, I'm swamped. I promise to keep you updated asap.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Snakes
Of course, the thing yesterday about elephants got me to thinking about critters in general. When I think about animals, I think about Loretta. She could have been on a certain TV show starring as Ellie Mae. She has every kind of rabbit in the back shed, a big Pyrenees Mountain Dog in the yard, an apricot poodle named Woody in the house, some cats, chickens, guineas maybe, guinea pigs for sure. It's a certain kind of Eden at her house. The last time we were there, she put a baby chicken in my hands and I had to cup it. I don't know who was more scared, me or that bird. It was ugly and bird poop is ugly and I just wanted the itchy little feeling out of my hands.
Loretta has big plans for the animals she is going to hang out with in the new world. I do too of course. Mostly a tiger. However, I do like elephants. Carly called them elefunks as a baby. Elefunks, boonies, puppa dogs, and boydees, she had her own word for every animal before she could really speak well. She thought long and hard about vet school.
I wonder of course if that whole curse to snakes means there won't be any in the new world or they will all have legs then. Like, we have lizards now, so a snake is not merely a lizard minus legs. They have an entire system of transportation that, if it wasn't so gruesome to look at, would be mesmerizing. I'm pretty sure I would not get around that well if I lost my limbs.
Last night as I left my office, the earthworms were on the sidewalk and one of them was the size of a pencil and he was hustling up the concrete like he had places to go and people to see. I watched for a moment as his segments distended with his stretch, and then contracted to propel him forward.
And then it started grossing me out and I got out of there. He's lucky I didn't squish him good, but because he was so big I figured he'd be a mess on my shoes.
One time in Arkansas we were out in service, me and Carly and Jennifer and Sara Rowe, only she was Sara Bowen then. So anyhow, my Focus was in the shop as someone hit me with their car and I had a rental. It was spring break, thus we could be out and about on a weekday. The weather is cool there in March, but it had been just that kind of fake out warm that you thought it was spring but it was still chilly.
A snake was stupid enough to come out, and then his cold blooded self was cold. So at the first door out in rurals, we pull in a driveway and Sara opens the door and right about where she was going to put her foot, a coiled up snake was trying to warm himself.
She yanked the door shut and we wanted to see of course so we backed the car up. There he was, a pretty big coil which undoubtedly was the reason he thought he could venture out to start with.
Well, he's about that far from the car, so I pull forward only about a foot closer to him, trying to run him over.
We backed up, and he was still coiled up cold.
I went forward again, all of us looking that way (the people were not at home. Sara and Jennifer being pioneers in frequently worked territory already knew this) to see where he was.
Backed up. Still coiled up, but we are closer.
Pulled forward. Put it in reverse, backed up. Still coiled.
Went rocking back and forth trying to get closer and he just stayed coiled. Finally I thought I had to be on top of him and as we backed up, he had finally uncoiled and was unhurriedly slithering away. I put the car in drive and gunned it, aiming right at where I expected him to be.
It occurred to me about then that I had two pioneers in my car and I was trying to kill one of Jehovah's creatures. About the time that thought whizzed through my head, as I was moving forward, I heard a splatting sound.
In the backseat catty cornered to me as the driver, Sara says: "Oooh yeah! We got him!"
I didn't worry about having to talk to any elders about animal cruelty after that. I'm not saying I'm proud of what I did. I am saying I can't stand snakes, and who better to understand that than Jehovah?
There are no land snakes in New Zealand (sea snakes, a few swim up there, but they cannot live on land) and no snakes in Ireland. Some good comes from being an island. That's reason enough for me to consider moving there. When I took the girls to Sea World in 1999, we saw a big 20' or so green moray eel in the reef aquarium and that made me feel slickly sick at my stomach to see him gliding around.
I was thinking about all the animals I love. I am very fond of those little tasmanian devils. I know, they are called devils for a reason, but in the new world, I think I'd like to have some as I reside snakeless in New Zealand. I like mammals. I like rodents. I love things with fur. When we were moving to Arkansas the girls and I were looking at apartments and we asked one potential landlord about pets. She said nothing with fur. Carly said well, that leaves Dad out. (Yeah, he's a hairy one, except the top of his head).
I just don't like any reptiles and am not much more interested in amphibians. I don't know if Jehovah is going to get me over that or give snakes legs or what. I know it'll be okay, but I still don't think I'll ever really be able to laugh if I see a baby playing on a cobra hole.
Isn't that funny? I can imagine climbing up on an elefunk and hanging on for a full out galloping charge.
Loretta has big plans for the animals she is going to hang out with in the new world. I do too of course. Mostly a tiger. However, I do like elephants. Carly called them elefunks as a baby. Elefunks, boonies, puppa dogs, and boydees, she had her own word for every animal before she could really speak well. She thought long and hard about vet school.
I wonder of course if that whole curse to snakes means there won't be any in the new world or they will all have legs then. Like, we have lizards now, so a snake is not merely a lizard minus legs. They have an entire system of transportation that, if it wasn't so gruesome to look at, would be mesmerizing. I'm pretty sure I would not get around that well if I lost my limbs.
Last night as I left my office, the earthworms were on the sidewalk and one of them was the size of a pencil and he was hustling up the concrete like he had places to go and people to see. I watched for a moment as his segments distended with his stretch, and then contracted to propel him forward.
And then it started grossing me out and I got out of there. He's lucky I didn't squish him good, but because he was so big I figured he'd be a mess on my shoes.
One time in Arkansas we were out in service, me and Carly and Jennifer and Sara Rowe, only she was Sara Bowen then. So anyhow, my Focus was in the shop as someone hit me with their car and I had a rental. It was spring break, thus we could be out and about on a weekday. The weather is cool there in March, but it had been just that kind of fake out warm that you thought it was spring but it was still chilly.
A snake was stupid enough to come out, and then his cold blooded self was cold. So at the first door out in rurals, we pull in a driveway and Sara opens the door and right about where she was going to put her foot, a coiled up snake was trying to warm himself.
She yanked the door shut and we wanted to see of course so we backed the car up. There he was, a pretty big coil which undoubtedly was the reason he thought he could venture out to start with.
Well, he's about that far from the car, so I pull forward only about a foot closer to him, trying to run him over.
We backed up, and he was still coiled up cold.
I went forward again, all of us looking that way (the people were not at home. Sara and Jennifer being pioneers in frequently worked territory already knew this) to see where he was.
Backed up. Still coiled up, but we are closer.
Pulled forward. Put it in reverse, backed up. Still coiled.
Went rocking back and forth trying to get closer and he just stayed coiled. Finally I thought I had to be on top of him and as we backed up, he had finally uncoiled and was unhurriedly slithering away. I put the car in drive and gunned it, aiming right at where I expected him to be.
It occurred to me about then that I had two pioneers in my car and I was trying to kill one of Jehovah's creatures. About the time that thought whizzed through my head, as I was moving forward, I heard a splatting sound.
In the backseat catty cornered to me as the driver, Sara says: "Oooh yeah! We got him!"
I didn't worry about having to talk to any elders about animal cruelty after that. I'm not saying I'm proud of what I did. I am saying I can't stand snakes, and who better to understand that than Jehovah?
There are no land snakes in New Zealand (sea snakes, a few swim up there, but they cannot live on land) and no snakes in Ireland. Some good comes from being an island. That's reason enough for me to consider moving there. When I took the girls to Sea World in 1999, we saw a big 20' or so green moray eel in the reef aquarium and that made me feel slickly sick at my stomach to see him gliding around.
I was thinking about all the animals I love. I am very fond of those little tasmanian devils. I know, they are called devils for a reason, but in the new world, I think I'd like to have some as I reside snakeless in New Zealand. I like mammals. I like rodents. I love things with fur. When we were moving to Arkansas the girls and I were looking at apartments and we asked one potential landlord about pets. She said nothing with fur. Carly said well, that leaves Dad out. (Yeah, he's a hairy one, except the top of his head).
I just don't like any reptiles and am not much more interested in amphibians. I don't know if Jehovah is going to get me over that or give snakes legs or what. I know it'll be okay, but I still don't think I'll ever really be able to laugh if I see a baby playing on a cobra hole.
Isn't that funny? I can imagine climbing up on an elefunk and hanging on for a full out galloping charge.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
The Emotional Lives of Elephants
Suzie sent me this link today:
http://www.dogwork.com/relp8/%20
I don't know if it will work from this blog. http://www.dogwork.com/relp8/%20
Well, I posted it hitting the link icon so maybe one or the other will work. If not, and you want to see it, google Shirl and Jenny elephants reunited after more than 20 years.
Can you imagine being the only elephant and never seeing another of your species for over 20 years? Elephants have extremely complex emotional lives that zoologists are only beginning to understand. For example, elephants make low growling sounds to each other that they can hear from a distance of 5/6 miles but that humans are unaware of because it falls out of our decible perception levels. They form close knit families, and are said to weep and mourn a death, particularly a matriarch for her calf.
They live 70 years or so and they die typically, if they die of old age, of a unique combination of factors related to their teeth - their teeth replace themselves till the last set is worn down and then the inability to take in nutrition hastens their end.
Anyway, I was thinking in watching this video what it would be like in the new world when all the zoos and fences and pounds and borders were done with, when all the animals were unchained and free. We think of the benefits of God's kingdom for us. But for them too, what a sweet result returning to paradise will have for them as well.
http://www.dogwork.com/relp8/%20
I don't know if it will work from this blog. http://www.dogwork.com/relp8/%20
Well, I posted it hitting the link icon so maybe one or the other will work. If not, and you want to see it, google Shirl and Jenny elephants reunited after more than 20 years.
Can you imagine being the only elephant and never seeing another of your species for over 20 years? Elephants have extremely complex emotional lives that zoologists are only beginning to understand. For example, elephants make low growling sounds to each other that they can hear from a distance of 5/6 miles but that humans are unaware of because it falls out of our decible perception levels. They form close knit families, and are said to weep and mourn a death, particularly a matriarch for her calf.
They live 70 years or so and they die typically, if they die of old age, of a unique combination of factors related to their teeth - their teeth replace themselves till the last set is worn down and then the inability to take in nutrition hastens their end.
Anyway, I was thinking in watching this video what it would be like in the new world when all the zoos and fences and pounds and borders were done with, when all the animals were unchained and free. We think of the benefits of God's kingdom for us. But for them too, what a sweet result returning to paradise will have for them as well.
***
Giants
LIKE a mischievous little boy, the elephant calf wandered away from its herd and began strolling along the edge of an African water channel. Ignoring the warning trumpet from a nearby adult, the independent little calf suddenly slipped into deep water! But four anxious elephant cows rushed to the rescue. Two of them waded in and managed to lift the panicky baby with their tusks until two others stationed on the bank could pull him to safety.
Once her baby was safe, mother elephant carefully examined the whimpering, water-blowing little delinquent with her trunk, and, finding no damage, used it also to deliver a mighty wallop of discipline. Had any human mother witnessed the incident, she surely would have felt a common bond with that angry pachydermatous mother, who then chased the little rascal away from the water, loudly venting her motherly concern.
Similar to a human child, the baby elephant learns from such experiences and parental teaching. In fact, a young elephant is dependent on adult guidance for at least ten years, a length of time highly unusual in the animal world. Accounting for this may be the fact that, like human infants, an elephant is born with its brain only about a third of grown-up size. Hence, much of its behavior is developed as it grows, rather than primarily by instinct, as with most animals.
A young elephant’s parents may have had a “courtship” and a “honeymoon” that lasted for several months. When the female eventually becomes pregnant, she loses interest in her mate. Later, she seeks the company of another cow, who goes off with her to a secluded spot and stands by protectively while the infant is being born. Pregnancy has lasted up to twenty-two months. And no wonder! The baby that comes forth is all of three feet (1 meter) high and weighs about 200 pounds (90 kilos)!
The
Amazing TrunkIt takes the better part of a calf’s first year to learn how to use its most valuable asset—the trunk. The sight of a clumsy baby tripping over its own ungainly nose extension, stepping on it or otherwise awkwardly twisting and turning it, can make for some hilarious moments.
A baby elephant does not suck from mother’s breasts with its trunk, but, rather, lets it curl back over its head and nurses by mouth. But in three or four years, when mother can no longer stand the jabs of her juvenile’s sprouting tusks, she weans the thirsty youth forcibly. And comedy may again ensue when the baby tusker sticks its trunk into its own mouth in apparent desperation, acting like a thumb-sucking child. As the little one gets older, its trunk may even intrude into an adult’s mouth to investigate the food being chewed there.
Though an adult’s trunk may weigh about 300 pounds (135 kilos), the thousands of muscles along its six-foot (2-meter) length and flexible “fingers” at the tip make it very versatile indeed. It houses a highly sensitive nose, and, due to the animal’s very limited hearing and sight, the trunk is always moving around, sniffing out the environment like a sensitive antenna, and feeling for shape, texture and temperature. An extended trunk is also a typical greeting among elephants in what appears to be a measured motion of affection. When humans gain their trust, an extended trunk is accepted as a sign of mutual confidence.
But this combination nose and upper lip by no means serves only for delicate duties. It is also a powerful tool, scooping up sand loosened by tusks and feet when the elephant is digging for water, plucking grass and beating dirt from the roots, reaching into trees for fruit or tearing off bark, dousing the body with water or dusting it with dirt for cooling, and, together with the tusks, lifting objects weighing as much as a ton. It is even used as a snorkel when the elephant wades in deep water.
By means of its hoselike trunk an elephant can suck up as much as a gallon and a half (6 liters) of water for spraying itself or drinking. Drinking merely requires squirting the water into its mouth, where it can be heard gurgling stomachward. In this way up to 50 gallons (190 liters) or more of water may be consumed in a day, along with the 500 to 600 pounds (some 225 to 270 kilos) of food that the versatile trunk also stuffs into its owner’s mouth. Hence, if the trunk becomes damaged, as in a poacher’s snare, the animal has a real survival problem. Some elephants with such a handicap have been seen eating grass on their knees.
Enormous
Teeth and TusksChewing these immense amounts of food calls for something unusual in the way of teeth. Strangely, only one tooth on each side of each jaw—a total of four—is in use at any one time. But what teeth they are! They may weigh eight or nine pounds (4 kilos) apiece and be at least a foot (30 centimeters) long. In a lifetime, six sets of these giant molars are used up, in addition to the first milk teeth.
As if on a conveyor belt, the huge grinders move into position, the new tooth pushing out the worn stump. The last set comes in when elephants are about forty years old. When these finally wear down, the great creature loses his chewing power and eventually dies, apparently from a form of malnutrition, at sixty or seventy years of age.
However, elephants are most noted for their other, far more visible, “teeth.” You might say that they have the world’s most extreme case of protruding teeth, since their great tusks are actually the upper front incisors. They are the longest and heaviest teeth of any living animal. Since they continue to grow all through the elephant’s life, it has been estimated that their length could reach as much as sixteen feet (5 meters) in the female and twenty feet (6 meters) in the male.
But these protruding “teeth” take quite a pounding as they dig up soil in quest of salt or food and water, lift heavy weights, or are used to fight for the attention of a comely cow. Invariably, one tusk bears the marks of more wear and may even be shorter due to chipping and breaking. We might, therefore, think of a right- or left-“handed” elephant.
When he died at fifty-five years of age in 1974, Ahmed, the largest known bull elephant in Kenya, had tusks each weighing an estimated 148 pounds (67 kilos). Ahmed’s giant incisors would be worth upward of $10,000 on the ivory market; so it can be readily understood why he was protected by a special decree of Kenya’s president. His price was on his head!
Growing
UpAs young male elephants get older, they do not become fearless protectors of the herd, as you might be inclined to think. Instead, the young bulls generally remain only until they begin to show signs of asserting their “masculinity” in some obstreperous manner. When this occurs, usually at around ten to thirteen years of age, the herd’s females react by forcibly ejecting the youthful upstarts. The young bulls then go off into a somewhat bachelor-type existence, though they may congregate in smaller bull herds. Mingling with cows comes only when they have “amorous” intentions toward the ones ready to mate.
As you may have guessed, main herds are largely a matriarchal society, usually led by a cow related to every other member of the herd as mother, sister or aunt. The strong bond between the cows cements the herds and makes for survival of the young.
When an African elephant reaches full growth, it is impressive indeed, the world’s largest living land animal. African bulls stand an average of over eleven feet (3 1⁄2 meters) high at the shoulder and weigh about seven tons. However, one African bull killed in 1955 stood over thirteen feet (4 meters) high and was said to weigh twelve tons—a real giant!
Death
of the GiantsDo so-called “elephant cemeteries” really exist? Well, elephants do seem to have an interest in the bones and tusks of a dead comrade. To test out this curious behavior, carcasses were placed in the vicinity of a browsing herd. When they caught the scent, the beasts approached with an industrious enthusiasm, carefully surveying the remains with their trunks.
Some observers have even noted attempts by the elephants to remove the tusks, and others have reported their actually carrying bones for distances of up to half a mile (1 kilometer) from the carcass. But there have been no recent confirmations of “elephant cemeteries” where aging animals are said to die in secret. In fact, the foregoing would seem to indicate just the opposite, a scattering of bones and tusks, rather than a gathering of them to one place.
In one sad case some time ago, a newborn calf had died. A game warden saw its mother carrying the dead baby on her tusks for about three days, with her trunk draped over the limp form to hold it in place. Later the mother was seen alone, at a tree, not eating, and charging anyone who came near. When she finally left after some days, the warden found that the cow had scraped a small grave under that tree and buried the little body there.
The very intelligence of these marvelous creatures is now said to be a factor in current threats to their existence. Elephants are learning that Africa’s national parks offer some refuge from the widespread slaughter being inflicted by the guns and poisoned arrows of illegal ivory hunters, as well as farmers and ranchers who are taking over much of the elephant country. The result of this man-made upset of nature is that, rather than ranging over hundreds of miles, elephants are crowding into the park sanctuaries. Overbrowsing often follows, stripping the forests of trees and turning these areas into open grasslands unsuitable for the elephant.
It is unfortunate that the existence of creatures that are such a magnificent testimony to the wisdom and ability of the One who created them is now threatened. Their fascinating characteristics are just another evidence of His generous provision for humans, who delight in observing them and their habits. We can be grateful that the Creator, the Owner of “every wild animal of the forest” and the “beasts upon a thousand mountains,” has provided such creatures for mankind’s eternal pleasure and benefit.—Ps. 50:10.
g77 7/8 pp. 20-23 Giants of the African Forests *** of the African ForestsBY “AWAKE!” CORRESPONDENT IN KENYA
Monday, September 26, 2011
Homesick
I've neglected my blog and my writing of late. That's what school does to me. I have whittled the grading down to something manageable at least. I went from 67 papers down to a handful. Whew.
I would like to go back to Arkansas and see Jace and Jordyn and Ty Ger Woods. I would like to see Will and Alex and Rene's niece. Bob's granddaughter - I can't remember how to spell her name but it is some form of Madelyn. My little Ruth is in Texas now. I was born there and I sure wouldn't mind visiting and/or moving there either. I miss people in Oklahoma too.
Today when I walked through the parking lot I passed a brand new silver Cherokee Chief with, of all things, Oklahoma plates. I was almost upon the bumper when I spotted it, and I took two more steps and gently laid my hand across the state. I wasn't feeling patriotic for the government there. I was missing friends, flat land to drive on and long hot summers when the weatherman told old people and babies to be careful or they'd die in the heat but there was never any snow in winter worth mentioning. I wanted to eat Korean food and real BBQ and have someone tell me where to get fried pickles without looking at me crazy. (Although to be fair, they serve them two places here. They just aren't very good and they cost out the wahoo. I mean, it's pickles and breading and frying. CHEAP!)
It doesn't help that I'm miserable in my job from an administrative standpoint. Teaching and students are fine. Bosses and committees are turning me into an insomniac with panic attacks. I am watching the listings for new positions, but Carly has another year of school here. So it's a pain to look and it's a pain to move and/or be separated and it's a pain to wait and see if my contract gets renewed.
My zip code my whole life started with a seven. A one is just so extremely a big marginal difference. When we moved here I put off getting a Pennsylvania tag as long as I could because I was broke but I didn't want to give up that last visible reminder of who I used to be. Finally, I got the Pennsylvania tag and the number (still today) is HBR 3440.
Now, I am word oriented as you have probably noticed so as a memory device to get the tag number in my recall, I have always invented something to go with the letters. I have had a KZR in Arkansas that was for the poet Carolyn Kizer. Once I had a DCR tag and that stood for David and Cherri Randall. Easy enough to remember. I always wanted a tag that was something like JON 316 or PSL 8318. Now wouldn't that be cool? The absolute best would be ISA 4310 but so far all I have is HBR 3440. I wish Hebrews had a swanky scripture to match that, but there are not 34 chapters and so it won't work for that. On a side note, once I was with a sister here at the ER and she used her debit card to pay and the pin number was 8318. No guesswork about where she got that number. Which reminds me that I have a number I use for everything, and when I was talking to Abel one time, I told him what his pin number was - I actually gave him three possible combinations, and sure enough, one of them was the right one. He kinda laughed. I just knew him so well in some ways, but I don't know if he ever knew me. I don't know if anyone does. I got bosses not wanting to renew my contract because they think I'm an idiot. Seriously, don't you know me better than that by now?
Anyhow, I came home from the tag office that day and asked the girls if they could think of anything for HBR and Kim spouts off, without a moment of hesitation: Hell Bent Redhead.
That's pretty much been the gist of my life since moving here. Looking back over 37 months, Abel is one of my better mistakes. It's been catastrophe after catastrophe here. Crazy bosses, jerk off landlords, and some just stupid random stuff all coming together in the worst possible ways. So part of me keeps looking at new job listings thinking on each one, oh please, let me go there and leave here.
But I hope for another year's contract so Carly and I can stay together that last year.
Of course, the thing is, I don't believe in hell as a bad place, so being hell bent, just means I'm a sinner and bound for the common grave of all mankind except for the ransom of the Christ. Tonight, I am thankful for that ransom. If I don't have to die, and get to survive into the new world, that will mean that Jesus died so I did not have to experience death. And let's be real. Nobody wants to experience death even with complete faith of coming back in the resurrection. On the other hand, if I do die before the resurrection, I know I will be back in a much better world, with the prospect of perfection and being sinless. I cannot buy back what Adam and Eve lost even with my death - I had no perfect life to offer in exchange, so even with my own death, the prospect of perfect eternal life is only afforded to us via that death on the torture stake. What a gift beyond words.
I would like to go back to Arkansas and see Jace and Jordyn and Ty Ger Woods. I would like to see Will and Alex and Rene's niece. Bob's granddaughter - I can't remember how to spell her name but it is some form of Madelyn. My little Ruth is in Texas now. I was born there and I sure wouldn't mind visiting and/or moving there either. I miss people in Oklahoma too.
Today when I walked through the parking lot I passed a brand new silver Cherokee Chief with, of all things, Oklahoma plates. I was almost upon the bumper when I spotted it, and I took two more steps and gently laid my hand across the state. I wasn't feeling patriotic for the government there. I was missing friends, flat land to drive on and long hot summers when the weatherman told old people and babies to be careful or they'd die in the heat but there was never any snow in winter worth mentioning. I wanted to eat Korean food and real BBQ and have someone tell me where to get fried pickles without looking at me crazy. (Although to be fair, they serve them two places here. They just aren't very good and they cost out the wahoo. I mean, it's pickles and breading and frying. CHEAP!)
It doesn't help that I'm miserable in my job from an administrative standpoint. Teaching and students are fine. Bosses and committees are turning me into an insomniac with panic attacks. I am watching the listings for new positions, but Carly has another year of school here. So it's a pain to look and it's a pain to move and/or be separated and it's a pain to wait and see if my contract gets renewed.
My zip code my whole life started with a seven. A one is just so extremely a big marginal difference. When we moved here I put off getting a Pennsylvania tag as long as I could because I was broke but I didn't want to give up that last visible reminder of who I used to be. Finally, I got the Pennsylvania tag and the number (still today) is HBR 3440.
Now, I am word oriented as you have probably noticed so as a memory device to get the tag number in my recall, I have always invented something to go with the letters. I have had a KZR in Arkansas that was for the poet Carolyn Kizer. Once I had a DCR tag and that stood for David and Cherri Randall. Easy enough to remember. I always wanted a tag that was something like JON 316 or PSL 8318. Now wouldn't that be cool? The absolute best would be ISA 4310 but so far all I have is HBR 3440. I wish Hebrews had a swanky scripture to match that, but there are not 34 chapters and so it won't work for that. On a side note, once I was with a sister here at the ER and she used her debit card to pay and the pin number was 8318. No guesswork about where she got that number. Which reminds me that I have a number I use for everything, and when I was talking to Abel one time, I told him what his pin number was - I actually gave him three possible combinations, and sure enough, one of them was the right one. He kinda laughed. I just knew him so well in some ways, but I don't know if he ever knew me. I don't know if anyone does. I got bosses not wanting to renew my contract because they think I'm an idiot. Seriously, don't you know me better than that by now?
Anyhow, I came home from the tag office that day and asked the girls if they could think of anything for HBR and Kim spouts off, without a moment of hesitation: Hell Bent Redhead.
That's pretty much been the gist of my life since moving here. Looking back over 37 months, Abel is one of my better mistakes. It's been catastrophe after catastrophe here. Crazy bosses, jerk off landlords, and some just stupid random stuff all coming together in the worst possible ways. So part of me keeps looking at new job listings thinking on each one, oh please, let me go there and leave here.
But I hope for another year's contract so Carly and I can stay together that last year.
Of course, the thing is, I don't believe in hell as a bad place, so being hell bent, just means I'm a sinner and bound for the common grave of all mankind except for the ransom of the Christ. Tonight, I am thankful for that ransom. If I don't have to die, and get to survive into the new world, that will mean that Jesus died so I did not have to experience death. And let's be real. Nobody wants to experience death even with complete faith of coming back in the resurrection. On the other hand, if I do die before the resurrection, I know I will be back in a much better world, with the prospect of perfection and being sinless. I cannot buy back what Adam and Eve lost even with my death - I had no perfect life to offer in exchange, so even with my own death, the prospect of perfect eternal life is only afforded to us via that death on the torture stake. What a gift beyond words.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Acai Berries
I'm not sure the acai is a berry. Seems like it is. It's the new wonder food. Food has fads just like fashion and music. So do diets. Anybody remember Atkins shakes? Oh they were funky. So we went to Rite Aid and they had a bunch of stuff 75% off, which is my favorite you know, and it didn't expire till way into 2012 so I bought a lot, including some Acai supplement. And I feel pretty good except I also bought some probiotics and it is detoxing my digestive system very thoroughly. TMI!
I wonder if we were in the new world, and if we don't have mass transportation because 18 wheelers and the like all burn carbon fuels and pollute, so if acai berries have something unique that we need, how are people not in the rainforest going to get it? Yes. I think about these things, but then again, I lived over 40 years before I ever heard of them; obviously, we can live without it.
I'm going to do my WT. It's late. But I felt pretty good today so something was missing that I am now taking. Might be selenium. Slept like a log. Who says slept like a baby? Nobody that has had one, that's for sure.
I wonder if we were in the new world, and if we don't have mass transportation because 18 wheelers and the like all burn carbon fuels and pollute, so if acai berries have something unique that we need, how are people not in the rainforest going to get it? Yes. I think about these things, but then again, I lived over 40 years before I ever heard of them; obviously, we can live without it.
I'm going to do my WT. It's late. But I felt pretty good today so something was missing that I am now taking. Might be selenium. Slept like a log. Who says slept like a baby? Nobody that has had one, that's for sure.
Friday, September 23, 2011
My Favorite Color
is not green really - it's 75% off. We went to Target and hit the bedding/linens department pretty hard. Rugs, comforters, all the stuff stocked for college dorm rooms marked down. We each got a rolling file cabinet marked from 40 to 10 bucks - and the fact that it is green is a plus for us.
Of course we bought so much stuff we could not go anywhere else because the trunk was full. That's a funny problem to have.
I wonder what Jehovah had Adam and Eve sleeping on before they figured out they were naked. I can't see us going back to that. I wonder if it is just cultural conditioning. But I love textiles and sewing and clothing and colors. I like having houses and dressing the bed. Both the girls inherited that from me too. Yeah, you should have seen us tonight. We hardly left a thing for anyone else.
We hit the sock rack too. Nothing else was on mark down. But that's our philosophy. Don't pay retail and don't buy when you need something. Buy when the store needs to get rid of something.
And of course, we went to Sonic while we were over there. I am sitting here with a lovely cup of crushed ice and diet vanilla coke beside me. We also had a Steak and Shake shake. Carly got the new caramel apple and it tasted crisp just like an apple if you can believe it. I had banana, Kim chocolate. I have never been a chocolate girl much unless it is donuts. I don't care about ice cream either. Let me tell you, if they had Krispy Kreme over there, I would have to drive through.
Especially if the light was on.
So I wonder sometimes what the angels think looking down here at us, if they like us with clothes and living inside structures or if they have sorrow over that. Is that what being sinless and perfect means, not covering anything up? What plan did Jehovah have for Eve to have maxi pads? I guess perfect childbirth would mean never an umbilical cord around a baby neck, but were we just going to carry babies around on our hips and nurse them in the open and how was that cord going to be cut?
I just don't know. I guess I'll find out in the new scrolls, and this is just speculation that probably keeps me from doing serious research on Bible topics. But I do this kind of thinking when I have no access to the WT library or reading a book. Mostly I think these things while I'm driving and the girls ignore me with their earbuds/iPods plugged in.
So you can tell I drove home from Target today, and I thought and thought all kinds of child birthing things because Jennifer is going slow getting Jordyn here, but she is going. And I am glad she is having her inside and has maxi pads for after, and blankets for the baby and good nursing bras.
There's probably two angels laughing at me right now because I don't know that perfect boobs don't need bras to fight gravity. And they're right. I have no experience with perfect anything. But I am pretty happy nonetheless with my $12 rug that someone else paid $48 for a few months ago.
I get my happy where I can.
Of course we bought so much stuff we could not go anywhere else because the trunk was full. That's a funny problem to have.
I wonder what Jehovah had Adam and Eve sleeping on before they figured out they were naked. I can't see us going back to that. I wonder if it is just cultural conditioning. But I love textiles and sewing and clothing and colors. I like having houses and dressing the bed. Both the girls inherited that from me too. Yeah, you should have seen us tonight. We hardly left a thing for anyone else.
We hit the sock rack too. Nothing else was on mark down. But that's our philosophy. Don't pay retail and don't buy when you need something. Buy when the store needs to get rid of something.
And of course, we went to Sonic while we were over there. I am sitting here with a lovely cup of crushed ice and diet vanilla coke beside me. We also had a Steak and Shake shake. Carly got the new caramel apple and it tasted crisp just like an apple if you can believe it. I had banana, Kim chocolate. I have never been a chocolate girl much unless it is donuts. I don't care about ice cream either. Let me tell you, if they had Krispy Kreme over there, I would have to drive through.
Especially if the light was on.
So I wonder sometimes what the angels think looking down here at us, if they like us with clothes and living inside structures or if they have sorrow over that. Is that what being sinless and perfect means, not covering anything up? What plan did Jehovah have for Eve to have maxi pads? I guess perfect childbirth would mean never an umbilical cord around a baby neck, but were we just going to carry babies around on our hips and nurse them in the open and how was that cord going to be cut?
I just don't know. I guess I'll find out in the new scrolls, and this is just speculation that probably keeps me from doing serious research on Bible topics. But I do this kind of thinking when I have no access to the WT library or reading a book. Mostly I think these things while I'm driving and the girls ignore me with their earbuds/iPods plugged in.
So you can tell I drove home from Target today, and I thought and thought all kinds of child birthing things because Jennifer is going slow getting Jordyn here, but she is going. And I am glad she is having her inside and has maxi pads for after, and blankets for the baby and good nursing bras.
There's probably two angels laughing at me right now because I don't know that perfect boobs don't need bras to fight gravity. And they're right. I have no experience with perfect anything. But I am pretty happy nonetheless with my $12 rug that someone else paid $48 for a few months ago.
I get my happy where I can.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
drive-through laundry
I have a short story I published called "Drive-Through Laundry." You can get convenience in cooking and you can skip cleaning for a few days, but there is no substitute for laundry. I think this as I write here because my desk is at the dead end of the landing upstairs by the utility closet so I frequently write while listening for the dryer to buzz or the washer to finish spinning.
If I go back downstairs pretty fast, I can get all that clean and be free this weekend a little bit to grade haha. And I am actively working the new job listings as they come out on Friday and it takes time to go over a posting and see first if you are right for them perhaps and next if they are right for you. One place I checked in 2008, everybody in their department looked like Ken or Barbie and not a day over 30. I didn't bother applying there. I would not match.
Satan is trying to keep me busy, too busy for anything, so I am forcing myself to sit here and think of something to say. I mean, I went to meeting tonight, so it should not be hard. I'm glad we had the part from the OR book on the service meeting about being forgiving and letting love cover a multitude of sins. I always think woo hoo ya'll got to put up with me a little longer.
It was a very good meeting. As I was leaving, I spoke for a few minutes to Lana Jae and Dana. Now, there is something to say. Lana Jae is just doing smashing after her tonsillectomy. She has a fresh haircut, and a beautiful print block dress on tonight. It had six or seven tiers/layers - floral and zebra prints, and it matched and then she had white tights and new black mary jane shoes. She was adorable. And her mom had on a zebra stripe skirt and black top, so they looked especially darling together. And walking out I got to commiserate with Frankie, a professor at Conemaugh, about papers to grade, and his mom, Beverly, about car payments. It was just nice. Part of me does not want to load up and start all over anywhere else. Part of me says oh heck yes, especially since all the days here are getting shorter and it rained a lot today. I got soaked once. I nearly broke my neck/car/umbrella trying to shut the backseat door on the umbrella today. But my contract is ending this year and so far it has not been renewed so I think I have to go elsewhere.
And we got to sing that middle song, 60, and I love it. I needed to hear/sing that one more than anything else that went on tonight. I nearly cried by the end of it - it's been a long stressed out week again. And I sat by Pam and a lot of people were happy to see me. So, I get through another day. Each day's suffering is sufficient for that day.
Goodnight my sisters.
If I go back downstairs pretty fast, I can get all that clean and be free this weekend a little bit to grade haha. And I am actively working the new job listings as they come out on Friday and it takes time to go over a posting and see first if you are right for them perhaps and next if they are right for you. One place I checked in 2008, everybody in their department looked like Ken or Barbie and not a day over 30. I didn't bother applying there. I would not match.
Satan is trying to keep me busy, too busy for anything, so I am forcing myself to sit here and think of something to say. I mean, I went to meeting tonight, so it should not be hard. I'm glad we had the part from the OR book on the service meeting about being forgiving and letting love cover a multitude of sins. I always think woo hoo ya'll got to put up with me a little longer.
It was a very good meeting. As I was leaving, I spoke for a few minutes to Lana Jae and Dana. Now, there is something to say. Lana Jae is just doing smashing after her tonsillectomy. She has a fresh haircut, and a beautiful print block dress on tonight. It had six or seven tiers/layers - floral and zebra prints, and it matched and then she had white tights and new black mary jane shoes. She was adorable. And her mom had on a zebra stripe skirt and black top, so they looked especially darling together. And walking out I got to commiserate with Frankie, a professor at Conemaugh, about papers to grade, and his mom, Beverly, about car payments. It was just nice. Part of me does not want to load up and start all over anywhere else. Part of me says oh heck yes, especially since all the days here are getting shorter and it rained a lot today. I got soaked once. I nearly broke my neck/car/umbrella trying to shut the backseat door on the umbrella today. But my contract is ending this year and so far it has not been renewed so I think I have to go elsewhere.
And we got to sing that middle song, 60, and I love it. I needed to hear/sing that one more than anything else that went on tonight. I nearly cried by the end of it - it's been a long stressed out week again. And I sat by Pam and a lot of people were happy to see me. So, I get through another day. Each day's suffering is sufficient for that day.
Goodnight my sisters.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
I'm not bad; I'm just drawn that way.
Those are the words of Jessica Rabbit in that crazy movie that mixes animation with live action called "Who Framed Roger Rabbit." Sometimes I want to say I'm not bad it just looks that way.
I missed a blog yesterday. I nearly went to bed just now, but I need to honor my commitment as far as is possible. So many things are going on. I checked email all day to see if Jennifer had baby Jordyn today. She probably could have been induced but the hospital ended up not having room in labor and deliver, so they are now aiming for Friday. Ah, delayed expectation. I want the baby now safe, but you know, I believe Jehovah designed the maternal body to know when to kick in and let the baby deliver. So if she isn't trying to get out of there yet, I'm okay with waiting.
But it's hard work! Harder for Jennifer than me, for sure. And my little Ruth is in the middle of packing up and heading for Texas. She and her siblings are all going to be relocating and closer together and it's going to be a better deal for all of them. I'm so excited for her, but it's also a lot of work for four people - actually five, since Neva Joy and Jearold are a couple. Moving is awful for young people. For senior citizens, it's got to be multiplied. First, they've lived longer so sometimes have more stuff. Second, they've lived longer so the body gets tired easier. I'm not picking on them. I really hope this system doesn't go long enough for me to reach any of their ages, because I will not be in that good of shape if I could live that long.
I was so busy last night I forgot to take all my pills and vitamins and my chest felt heavy all day. I went to the dentist this morning and they said get an electric toothbrush or your gums are going to be sorry. I want to say well, I'm not going to live much longer until I start getting better everyday. But I guess I ought to price sonic care toothbrushes for the heck of it.
So tonight I'm tired, but I feel better because I took all those pills about five hours ago. And my teeth still feel slick and clean. I like that.
I have been looking at the job listings for professors in the areas of specialization that I can teach. I cannot, for example, teach British Literature. I don't really like it and while I took the survey courses of it, I am not qualified to teach it except in the most general freshmen level kind of way. I think the British are pretty arrogant. Why is their literature from that small country considered a whole subject? It's just not that good even if it is English. American Lit is a lot bigger country you know. I specialize in gender and African American Lit and can also do all creative writing, and some Arabic and American lit and film.
But the medieval lit, Asian, composition and rhetoric, I cannot do period. And American lit I can really only do 20th century. Before that, I don't really like that old stuff. Some is okay, but not enough to get a degree in it.
It is interesting to consider all the jobs I might interview for, and the places I could end up moving. I would miss somethings about here, but snow/winter is not one of them. Argh. I would miss the friends, but the people I work with, well, I would not miss some of them.
And that is all I know. I wanted to come to Pennsylvania and be needed and valued. I had such high hopes. Maybe something is wrong with me and I am not going to match anywhere. But I did not match here and I am older, heavier, tireder, and have lost spiritual ground with the girls, in this place. I am more in debt than when I got here - thank you heating oil bill in the first house that was not insulated properly and everyone kept telling us it was US southern girls being cold rather than an issue with the construction of the house. I am still trying to pay interest and principal on those credit cards. I see daylight, but it's been a very long night. I don't know if I didn't let Jehovah direct me in coming here, or I was headstrong, or I want too much out of a place to want me back. While the work of moving again is daunting, the actual trying again in a new place fills me with hope.
I missed a blog yesterday. I nearly went to bed just now, but I need to honor my commitment as far as is possible. So many things are going on. I checked email all day to see if Jennifer had baby Jordyn today. She probably could have been induced but the hospital ended up not having room in labor and deliver, so they are now aiming for Friday. Ah, delayed expectation. I want the baby now safe, but you know, I believe Jehovah designed the maternal body to know when to kick in and let the baby deliver. So if she isn't trying to get out of there yet, I'm okay with waiting.
But it's hard work! Harder for Jennifer than me, for sure. And my little Ruth is in the middle of packing up and heading for Texas. She and her siblings are all going to be relocating and closer together and it's going to be a better deal for all of them. I'm so excited for her, but it's also a lot of work for four people - actually five, since Neva Joy and Jearold are a couple. Moving is awful for young people. For senior citizens, it's got to be multiplied. First, they've lived longer so sometimes have more stuff. Second, they've lived longer so the body gets tired easier. I'm not picking on them. I really hope this system doesn't go long enough for me to reach any of their ages, because I will not be in that good of shape if I could live that long.
I was so busy last night I forgot to take all my pills and vitamins and my chest felt heavy all day. I went to the dentist this morning and they said get an electric toothbrush or your gums are going to be sorry. I want to say well, I'm not going to live much longer until I start getting better everyday. But I guess I ought to price sonic care toothbrushes for the heck of it.
So tonight I'm tired, but I feel better because I took all those pills about five hours ago. And my teeth still feel slick and clean. I like that.
I have been looking at the job listings for professors in the areas of specialization that I can teach. I cannot, for example, teach British Literature. I don't really like it and while I took the survey courses of it, I am not qualified to teach it except in the most general freshmen level kind of way. I think the British are pretty arrogant. Why is their literature from that small country considered a whole subject? It's just not that good even if it is English. American Lit is a lot bigger country you know. I specialize in gender and African American Lit and can also do all creative writing, and some Arabic and American lit and film.
But the medieval lit, Asian, composition and rhetoric, I cannot do period. And American lit I can really only do 20th century. Before that, I don't really like that old stuff. Some is okay, but not enough to get a degree in it.
It is interesting to consider all the jobs I might interview for, and the places I could end up moving. I would miss somethings about here, but snow/winter is not one of them. Argh. I would miss the friends, but the people I work with, well, I would not miss some of them.
And that is all I know. I wanted to come to Pennsylvania and be needed and valued. I had such high hopes. Maybe something is wrong with me and I am not going to match anywhere. But I did not match here and I am older, heavier, tireder, and have lost spiritual ground with the girls, in this place. I am more in debt than when I got here - thank you heating oil bill in the first house that was not insulated properly and everyone kept telling us it was US southern girls being cold rather than an issue with the construction of the house. I am still trying to pay interest and principal on those credit cards. I see daylight, but it's been a very long night. I don't know if I didn't let Jehovah direct me in coming here, or I was headstrong, or I want too much out of a place to want me back. While the work of moving again is daunting, the actual trying again in a new place fills me with hope.
Monday, September 19, 2011
sunrise, sunset
I came home from my office, early for me on a Monday, at about 7:00 p.m. and it was getting dark. We had a picnic, long story why it was so late in the year, but no other time for it, and it was nippy. That's a dandy southern word. I brought home a list of places I had applied for a job next year and the girls were reading it and saying Auburn!!! Alabama!!! Bring it on. Can you say hardly any snow?
What I was thinking was that in the pre-TV and computer days, people generally went to bed when it got dark and woke up at daybreak. Now, electric lights have rearranged our lives, that and factory shift work. One of the girls asked me one time why do factories bother with shifts when nearly everybody prefers day work. And I said, duh. They would need 3x the amount of equipment to operate if everybody had their own machines. This way, you punch out of the seal placer valve pressurizer and the next person punches in and the thing never slows down.
Yeah, there is a Goodyear tire factory in my hometown. We just turn into hibernating bears here in winter, and I wonder if that is the way our DNA is programmed, if that was Jehovah's purpose. Then I think well this snow was not what he had in mind but the nephilim and that whole flood thing meant that the canopy came down and in Europe somewhere, a mammoth got caught and flash frozen with food in his mouth. I'd have like to have seen that. One minute, lunch, the next, hello freezing temperatures. That was one very surprised but only momentarily mammoth herd.
I like night time. I like dark. I like stars and the moon and the whole panoply of nighttime things. I love the sunset. The sunrise is pretty, but where exactly is it in all these mountains? Here I am, the zip code of my youth starting with seven, and sunrises here do not thrill me at all except for the regularity of their occurrence in the number one region of the zip code world.
There used to be (could still be, I dunno) a man on corners in Boulder, Colorado, called zip-code man. People gave him tips the same way they give musicians dollars in parks, but he didn't sing and play an instrument. If you yelled out a town in the U.S., he would tell you the zip code. If you gave him a zip code, he could name in reverse and give you the town.
ALL of them. Can you imagine? Oh, the great capacity of the human brain. But why did he spend it on zip codes?
Which makes me wonder if all the five-digit combinations are used up. If you shouted 43996 and there was no town for that number (I don't know; I made it up) would he say hey, you're trying to fool me but there ain't one.
So I'm turning in now. I will sleep past the sunrise, and I get more done in summer, but I'm feeling pretty good today about where I am. I almost see daylight at the end of my to do list. The pressure has alleviated somewhat. I don't know if Jehovah will get rid of snow in the new world. Some people like snow boarding and bundling up. In the new world, I will visit them in June but I will live in Alabama or Arkansas or Texas, yee haw the rest of the time. I don't know if we will have alarm clocks or get up with the sun or if I will still want to hang out and look at stars. I think so. Me and David, well, I want to herd a few sheep and sing a few songs by the light of a silvery moon. I mean other people can be there too. I don't expect to go unchaperoned with such a lady killer even when I am Sarah beautified. I'll be happy to get there and see what happens next. Probably won't call anything Alabama either. They must have a moon thing there to pull the crimson tide. ;)
What I was thinking was that in the pre-TV and computer days, people generally went to bed when it got dark and woke up at daybreak. Now, electric lights have rearranged our lives, that and factory shift work. One of the girls asked me one time why do factories bother with shifts when nearly everybody prefers day work. And I said, duh. They would need 3x the amount of equipment to operate if everybody had their own machines. This way, you punch out of the seal placer valve pressurizer and the next person punches in and the thing never slows down.
Yeah, there is a Goodyear tire factory in my hometown. We just turn into hibernating bears here in winter, and I wonder if that is the way our DNA is programmed, if that was Jehovah's purpose. Then I think well this snow was not what he had in mind but the nephilim and that whole flood thing meant that the canopy came down and in Europe somewhere, a mammoth got caught and flash frozen with food in his mouth. I'd have like to have seen that. One minute, lunch, the next, hello freezing temperatures. That was one very surprised but only momentarily mammoth herd.
I like night time. I like dark. I like stars and the moon and the whole panoply of nighttime things. I love the sunset. The sunrise is pretty, but where exactly is it in all these mountains? Here I am, the zip code of my youth starting with seven, and sunrises here do not thrill me at all except for the regularity of their occurrence in the number one region of the zip code world.
There used to be (could still be, I dunno) a man on corners in Boulder, Colorado, called zip-code man. People gave him tips the same way they give musicians dollars in parks, but he didn't sing and play an instrument. If you yelled out a town in the U.S., he would tell you the zip code. If you gave him a zip code, he could name in reverse and give you the town.
ALL of them. Can you imagine? Oh, the great capacity of the human brain. But why did he spend it on zip codes?
Which makes me wonder if all the five-digit combinations are used up. If you shouted 43996 and there was no town for that number (I don't know; I made it up) would he say hey, you're trying to fool me but there ain't one.
So I'm turning in now. I will sleep past the sunrise, and I get more done in summer, but I'm feeling pretty good today about where I am. I almost see daylight at the end of my to do list. The pressure has alleviated somewhat. I don't know if Jehovah will get rid of snow in the new world. Some people like snow boarding and bundling up. In the new world, I will visit them in June but I will live in Alabama or Arkansas or Texas, yee haw the rest of the time. I don't know if we will have alarm clocks or get up with the sun or if I will still want to hang out and look at stars. I think so. Me and David, well, I want to herd a few sheep and sing a few songs by the light of a silvery moon. I mean other people can be there too. I don't expect to go unchaperoned with such a lady killer even when I am Sarah beautified. I'll be happy to get there and see what happens next. Probably won't call anything Alabama either. They must have a moon thing there to pull the crimson tide. ;)
Sunday, September 18, 2011
white-collar tragedy tour
Yeah, nothing funny you could sell tickets for to that. That's the story of my life lately though. I had insomnia last night and did not go to sleep till nearly five a.m., or about the time my little Ruth is getting up. So I slept like I was on drugs till 11, missed meeting totally, decided to get caught up in my office.
Well, I did. Adminstratively, a lot of big projects. Student project, you name it. I came home feeling pretty good about how much I accomplished but I realized I still have stuff to ready for Jennifer and mail and stuff to email back to Thea. So now I feel like a double slug loser.
Seriously, a slimy big slug oozing around trying to get my life together. I got a lot of people trying to squish me flat or pour salt all over me at school. Worldly people are mean.
How about:
The United Brotherhood Perfection Tour? Let's get tickets for that. In the meantime, I am so tired I feel like I am swimming in the caramel swim lane of a new Milky Way candy bar commercial. Goodnight, Sisters.
Well, I did. Adminstratively, a lot of big projects. Student project, you name it. I came home feeling pretty good about how much I accomplished but I realized I still have stuff to ready for Jennifer and mail and stuff to email back to Thea. So now I feel like a double slug loser.
Seriously, a slimy big slug oozing around trying to get my life together. I got a lot of people trying to squish me flat or pour salt all over me at school. Worldly people are mean.
How about:
The United Brotherhood Perfection Tour? Let's get tickets for that. In the meantime, I am so tired I feel like I am swimming in the caramel swim lane of a new Milky Way candy bar commercial. Goodnight, Sisters.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
time
Remember when you were a kid and you would say you were eleven and a half when you turned eleven two months ago?
Yeah, I did that. My kids did it. "I'm nearly 16." I would bite my tongue and not say no, you are 15.3.
Tonight, I am swamped. I cleaned the house last night, did a little more this morning, went to my office, Carly called, and she offered to take me and Kim to Red Lobster for endless shrimp.
I am still full. It was lovely, but by the time I left my office, got car, got home, waited on girls, drove to restaurant, ordered, waited, ate, waited on next kind of shrimp, waited on payment transaction, drove home, drove back to school, parked, got to office, well, it took three hours.
Kim called tonight on Carly's behalf, as I had gone back to my office, and said bring home Pepto. We're out and Carly didn't feel so hot. She takes that stuff like her dad. Me, I have to cut something down to bone to take Tylenol. I felt like a moron when the girls were little because I actually thought to myself once that if either of them was going to be sick ever, let it be Kim. Carly had to have general anesthesia for a hangnail.
We were talking about that at Red Lobster, about the year Kim got her tonsils out, got lice, got stitches, got sprained and a wheelchair. She had a bad year, but it was way after I had that stupid thought about if one of them is going to be sick.
I wish I had a time machine. I wish I could go back and fix a few things. I wish I could just have today again or more. I did not get everything done that was on my list, so tomorrow I am already backed up.
Tonight I am thankful for the idea of eternity.
Yeah, I did that. My kids did it. "I'm nearly 16." I would bite my tongue and not say no, you are 15.3.
Tonight, I am swamped. I cleaned the house last night, did a little more this morning, went to my office, Carly called, and she offered to take me and Kim to Red Lobster for endless shrimp.
I am still full. It was lovely, but by the time I left my office, got car, got home, waited on girls, drove to restaurant, ordered, waited, ate, waited on next kind of shrimp, waited on payment transaction, drove home, drove back to school, parked, got to office, well, it took three hours.
Kim called tonight on Carly's behalf, as I had gone back to my office, and said bring home Pepto. We're out and Carly didn't feel so hot. She takes that stuff like her dad. Me, I have to cut something down to bone to take Tylenol. I felt like a moron when the girls were little because I actually thought to myself once that if either of them was going to be sick ever, let it be Kim. Carly had to have general anesthesia for a hangnail.
We were talking about that at Red Lobster, about the year Kim got her tonsils out, got lice, got stitches, got sprained and a wheelchair. She had a bad year, but it was way after I had that stupid thought about if one of them is going to be sick.
I wish I had a time machine. I wish I could go back and fix a few things. I wish I could just have today again or more. I did not get everything done that was on my list, so tomorrow I am already backed up.
Tonight I am thankful for the idea of eternity.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Tyger Woods
Well, it's no secret that either next year or the following year, I'm going somewhere else for a job. I have been looking at the job listings, which are just getting started (I have about 11 to apply for so far, but in 2008 I applied for about 400 positions). There is a listing at the U of A in Fayetteville, but I am not qualified for it so it would be pointless to even waste the paper sending my curriculum vitae.
I would love to be back in Fayetteville though, eating ceviche at El Camino Real with Loretta, Scott, and Ty. Ty is their baby boy born, I love this part, on June 4, 2007. The thing is, that was my 45th birthday. It was the Monday morning after the DC, a scheduled C-section, and we were there that afternoon to hold his little newborn self. When Loretta told me his name was going to be Ty, I said Tyler, or Tyrone, or what, and she said just Ty. I said, because their last name is Woods, how about Ger for a middle name?
That's me. Always a joker. Tomorrow I'll post my favorite picture in the world. It's on my work computer, but it's Kimberly holding Ty when he's about four months old. Of course, when people see that picture they say oh, your daughter has a baby? That's how good the picture is. It looks like they were posing in a studio. But Loretta was out with Scott and we lived down the road, and we got to have him all the time that summer.
When we moved to Pennsylvania, Ty was 14 months old and he played in my empty living room while Mike Wisdom and Ian Smith and Allan Bonner loaded boxes in a 28-foot U-Haul and me and his mother were upstairs shampooing carpet. I wanted to go have lunch with everyone but we ended up on the road and all the way to Ft. Leonardwood, Missouri, before nightfall.
I have a favorite picture of Ty that Thea sent from a BBQ get together and he's wearing cowboy boots. I've been looking through my pictures lately and thinking about moving again and wondering about the future. We have girls here we love and a few boys. I wonder if I will be writing about Lana from the standpoint of missing her in a few years when I have gone elsewhere. I'd miss her red hair - I can always find her during the meeting just by looking for that splash of color.
Birthdays are meaningless from a celebratory standpoint, and there is no good reason to laud a person just for being born. I hate shows like "Clean House" and "Hoarders" where people get all that help cleaning and decorating when they have already proven themselves lousy at keeping up with a house. Why reward them? That's what birthdays are - rewards for being born, as if anybody had a hand in it. Doesn't every kid tell his/her parents at some point: I didn't ask to be born? My answer for that was now that you're here, take responsibility for making the most of the opportunity. Life is a beautiful gift.
Still, it is good to take stock of one's life. Voltaire said the unexamined worth is not worth living. Of course, we are supposed to know the truth and it will make us free, and to keep on making sure of the most important things. All good philosophies merely echo a truth found in God's word. Why not the date of one's birth? I think about Ty when that day rolls around each year. I think about him being a million years old someday and I will be 1,000,045 but surely we won't count that many? I don't know. Whatever we are doing, I'll just be happy to be there doing it.
And the earth will still take 365.25 days to orbit the sun, and me and Loretta are still going to be having chocolate cream pie. Yeah, we'll probably still have to make coconut cream pie for Scott.
I would love to be back in Fayetteville though, eating ceviche at El Camino Real with Loretta, Scott, and Ty. Ty is their baby boy born, I love this part, on June 4, 2007. The thing is, that was my 45th birthday. It was the Monday morning after the DC, a scheduled C-section, and we were there that afternoon to hold his little newborn self. When Loretta told me his name was going to be Ty, I said Tyler, or Tyrone, or what, and she said just Ty. I said, because their last name is Woods, how about Ger for a middle name?
That's me. Always a joker. Tomorrow I'll post my favorite picture in the world. It's on my work computer, but it's Kimberly holding Ty when he's about four months old. Of course, when people see that picture they say oh, your daughter has a baby? That's how good the picture is. It looks like they were posing in a studio. But Loretta was out with Scott and we lived down the road, and we got to have him all the time that summer.
When we moved to Pennsylvania, Ty was 14 months old and he played in my empty living room while Mike Wisdom and Ian Smith and Allan Bonner loaded boxes in a 28-foot U-Haul and me and his mother were upstairs shampooing carpet. I wanted to go have lunch with everyone but we ended up on the road and all the way to Ft. Leonardwood, Missouri, before nightfall.
I have a favorite picture of Ty that Thea sent from a BBQ get together and he's wearing cowboy boots. I've been looking through my pictures lately and thinking about moving again and wondering about the future. We have girls here we love and a few boys. I wonder if I will be writing about Lana from the standpoint of missing her in a few years when I have gone elsewhere. I'd miss her red hair - I can always find her during the meeting just by looking for that splash of color.
Birthdays are meaningless from a celebratory standpoint, and there is no good reason to laud a person just for being born. I hate shows like "Clean House" and "Hoarders" where people get all that help cleaning and decorating when they have already proven themselves lousy at keeping up with a house. Why reward them? That's what birthdays are - rewards for being born, as if anybody had a hand in it. Doesn't every kid tell his/her parents at some point: I didn't ask to be born? My answer for that was now that you're here, take responsibility for making the most of the opportunity. Life is a beautiful gift.
Still, it is good to take stock of one's life. Voltaire said the unexamined worth is not worth living. Of course, we are supposed to know the truth and it will make us free, and to keep on making sure of the most important things. All good philosophies merely echo a truth found in God's word. Why not the date of one's birth? I think about Ty when that day rolls around each year. I think about him being a million years old someday and I will be 1,000,045 but surely we won't count that many? I don't know. Whatever we are doing, I'll just be happy to be there doing it.
And the earth will still take 365.25 days to orbit the sun, and me and Loretta are still going to be having chocolate cream pie. Yeah, we'll probably still have to make coconut cream pie for Scott.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Prejudice
A good meeting tonight, some good songs to sing too, and the part about Peter giving the four examples of Jehovah saying let the Gentiles in already and who am I to hinder Jehovah? That sounds just like Peter. I would have liked knowing Peter, only I would have died in first century childbirth and never known Peter had I been alive back then, so it's just as well.
There was a public talk once about this very subject back in Arkansas, and the brother was saying how we treat all our brothers the same no matter where they are from. He said we love them and respect them, never saying jokes about their ethnicity, whether they are from Poland . . .
or Australia, or China . . .
Or Texas. And I kind of felt funny over that. Texas? The people from Texas not being good enough to the people in Arkansas? Who did those Arkies think they were, anyhow?
And I make a joke over and over that if when I lived in Oklahoma I was an Okie and in Arkansas was an Arkie why I now am not a Pennie, but the truth is, I'd be delighted to be in Texas or Arkansas right now and I will never be a real Pennie. The zip code of your childhood influences you for the rest of your life. I don't know if that will be true in the new world, but for now, I am a seven living with all these ones, if you go by the first zip code digit.
I am watching the job listings right now, and applying for next year. The big lists aren't out yet, but there is a posting at Ole Miss that sounds perfect for me. I've never been to Mississippi, but it has to be better than this for snow.
And I interviewed on-campus in Georgia, which means I was one of the top three candidates, but unfortunately, not #1. #1 has now quit the job and they are hiring again. Maybe I'll make the top three again. I sure mean to try. I loved that town, and a half hour to the beach.
I am trying to figure out, in the drive home from the meeting, if I am being progressive or this is just about my zip code or what. I still think about Saipan and all that sunshine, so it's got a lot to do with weather. Today it was 54 when I went to school and 44 when I left. And I just had the AC on a week ago, and now I'm thinking where are the cords to the electric blanket. Already.
The jobs in New Hampshire, even for the same thing, somehow don't sound as good, so maybe I'm wrong-headed. My students all love to snowboard. I said well, if you were from Oklahoma you'd probably like swimming more.
Maybe Jehovah will put that canopy back up like in Noah's day and it'll be paradise earth-wide. I don't know what the polar bears will do or what they did before either. It's like that other part on the meeting program from the Yearbook, about you never know what impact your service may have. Of course we don't know. We're not omnipotent or even perfect. So I'm trying to stay humble because I know so little.
But I also want to stay warm when I leave here. Don't mind me. I always get whiny like this on the first day I wish I had a sweater with me. I did it in the South too - but I just didn't do it there until November usually.
There was a public talk once about this very subject back in Arkansas, and the brother was saying how we treat all our brothers the same no matter where they are from. He said we love them and respect them, never saying jokes about their ethnicity, whether they are from Poland . . .
or Australia, or China . . .
Or Texas. And I kind of felt funny over that. Texas? The people from Texas not being good enough to the people in Arkansas? Who did those Arkies think they were, anyhow?
And I make a joke over and over that if when I lived in Oklahoma I was an Okie and in Arkansas was an Arkie why I now am not a Pennie, but the truth is, I'd be delighted to be in Texas or Arkansas right now and I will never be a real Pennie. The zip code of your childhood influences you for the rest of your life. I don't know if that will be true in the new world, but for now, I am a seven living with all these ones, if you go by the first zip code digit.
I am watching the job listings right now, and applying for next year. The big lists aren't out yet, but there is a posting at Ole Miss that sounds perfect for me. I've never been to Mississippi, but it has to be better than this for snow.
And I interviewed on-campus in Georgia, which means I was one of the top three candidates, but unfortunately, not #1. #1 has now quit the job and they are hiring again. Maybe I'll make the top three again. I sure mean to try. I loved that town, and a half hour to the beach.
I am trying to figure out, in the drive home from the meeting, if I am being progressive or this is just about my zip code or what. I still think about Saipan and all that sunshine, so it's got a lot to do with weather. Today it was 54 when I went to school and 44 when I left. And I just had the AC on a week ago, and now I'm thinking where are the cords to the electric blanket. Already.
The jobs in New Hampshire, even for the same thing, somehow don't sound as good, so maybe I'm wrong-headed. My students all love to snowboard. I said well, if you were from Oklahoma you'd probably like swimming more.
Maybe Jehovah will put that canopy back up like in Noah's day and it'll be paradise earth-wide. I don't know what the polar bears will do or what they did before either. It's like that other part on the meeting program from the Yearbook, about you never know what impact your service may have. Of course we don't know. We're not omnipotent or even perfect. So I'm trying to stay humble because I know so little.
But I also want to stay warm when I leave here. Don't mind me. I always get whiny like this on the first day I wish I had a sweater with me. I did it in the South too - but I just didn't do it there until November usually.
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