Happy Halloween!

Here is a picture of a vintage postcard I googled. This is scarier than any Chucky or Freddy image I have ever seen. What is that she is dragging with a chain behind her? Is it an antique ice cube tray? A metal egg holder? Some kind of dirty waffle iron? Why is she dragging it? Is she smoothing out the gravel road? Is she luring Mr. Pumpkin Head somewhere? She knows he's back there reaching for it - you can see her turning her head. What is up with that? Why is the road bordered by Canadian thistles (tissels according to Dad)? At first I thought there was a bat with a mustache in the sky above the moon but when I look closer, it's an owl with a mouse in the mouth. And why is Mr. Pumpkin head reaching for the object being dragged on a chain? More importantly, why is he wearing Mick Jagger pants? This postcard will probably give me nightmares tonight.

Have you heard about Bloody Mary? The legend states that if you chant "Bloody Mary!" thirteen times in front of a candlelit mirror in an otherwise dark room you will summon her vengeful spirit. So do it now. Go into a room, turn all the lights off (like the bathroom) and say "Bloody Mary" 13 times. After the 13th time, she will appear over your left shoulder. But be careful. Legend says she might kill the person calling her, scratch their eyes out, drive the person mad, or pull the person into the mirror with her.

It's Almost a Relief

I had a hard frost this past weekend. Earlier frosts had killed off the tomatoes (except for the cherry tomato on the deck) but other plants survived. Some plants even put out new buds after that early frost. But now they are all gone. Normally I am very sad to see them die in the fall but this year it was almost a relief. It's not that I was tired of watering them or caring for them. And they were still pleasant to look at. I think this year I was ready for the change of season more than usual. Maybe it's because Offspring #1 is coming home in December and I have missed him so much.

My Hair

I got a new haircut. It's short in the back and longer in the front - like a reverse mullet. It's cute so far. I don't know how it will be as it grows out. My hair has always been a problem. Some would describe my hair as curly. I think wild is more accurate. Sometimes when I look at my image in the mirror first thing in the morning, I actually scare myself. Somedays I look like Cosmo Kraemer. Other days like this: Yes, I look like Don King, the boxing promoter. So I try to style it. If I take a shower, it's easy. Just wash it and pick it up and away I go - it will dry just fine. Some people use blowdryers but I use the "dry it in the car on the way to work" method. But I don't always feel like going out of the house in the morning with wet hair. So I take a wet washcloth and rub my head and try to fix it from there. I can't brush it. Horrors, no. Because if I brush it I end up with:

Yes, yes it is true. I have Jane Jetson hair - a couple of swoops of each side of a middle part. It looks ridiculous. I don't care what century we are in, Jane Jetson hair is ridiculous. And if the humidity is high at all I end up like this:

I have always admired the straight, shiny, sleek hairstyles. But I know it's not in the cards for me. Yet I am grateful. At least I have hair to style. Some people don't.

Do You Like the Sound of Trains?

This morning I was talking to a friend of mine from St. Cloud. She lives next to the tracks. St. Cloud has a lot of train tracks that run along Hwy. 10. She usually calls me when she is outside walking her cat, Lucifer. So when a train goes by, conversation ends because we can't hear each other until the train has passed. Lucky for her, she likes the sound of trains. I like the sound of trains too - when they're several miles away. I don't think I would like living as close to the tracks as she does. This afternoon I went to Orchestra hall to hear folk music played. Peter Ostrousko played the mandolin and the fiddle. He says that since he grew up on Nicollet Island in Minneapolis, he is the best mandolin player on neither side of the Mississippi. He played Orange Blossom Special - a folk tune where the fiddle imitates the sound of a train. I like that song. His fiddle imitated a train, then the whole orchestra imitated a train and they went back and forth. It was fun. The above picture is of the Eurostar - a train we took from London to Paris.

Halloween costumes

I had a conversation at work yesterday that went like this:

"Hello Sue."

"Hello L___, whats up?"

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"I'm going to a concert on Sunday, how about you?"

"I have a Halloween potluck tomorrow. Last night I went to the Halloween dance."

"Really? Did you wear a costume?"

"I was a satyr."

Here I paused. Maybe I heard wrong.

"What did you say? I didn't get it."

"I was a satyr."

She said satyr. So I said, "Really? Half goat, half person?"

"No, a satyr."

"OK, a satyr. What did your costume look like?"

"I had a sash."

Now I am picturing a half goat, half person beauty contest winner. I see a purple silk sash with the words, "Anoka County Satyr" across it. So I say, "you were a satyr for Halloween."

"No," she says patiently, "A satyr, like on the Love Boat."

A lightbulb goes off above my head. "Oh, a sailor. I know sailors. Saying Love Boat really helped me get it. Thanks L___."

We go on our way. She must think I am really thick headed.

Trip to the Holy Land Deli

This week I took a trip to the Holy Land Deli. Yum, Yum! I was on my way back from my last class at the Loft. It was the first Tuesday morning out of the last six Tuesday mornings that it wasn't raining. So I stopped to pick up some whole wheat pita bread and some tabouli (a salad composed of tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, mint, olive oil and sea salt). For a special treat, I toast the pita bread so it is crunchy and put the tabouli on top like a dip. It was delicious. If I wasn't in such a hurry I would have stopped for a falafel sandwich but I had to run. If you are every near the corner of Central and Lowry, northeast Minneapolis, check out the Holy Land Deli.

Crafty Times

A couple weeks ago I went to a community ed class and made myself a beautiful fall wreath. We started with a grapevine wreath and we added some foam. Our teacher called the foam our "machinery." We had to cover our "machinery" with spanish moss. She made lots of jokes about keeping our machinery covered. The class was all women so it was all in good fun. We added fall leaves and fall flowers and I added some pheasant feathers. It's hanging on my garage door and I think it looks rather nice. Last Friday I decided to repair a lampshade. I bought a pair of glass lamps after a family trip to Florida about 15 or 16 years ago. I thought the kids could display their sea shells from Sanibel Island in the glass lamps - which they did for a long time. The pleated part of the lampshade had become brittle and pieces broke off. I broke all the pleated parts off and ended up with a lampshade liner with lots of glue marks on it. I took some jean fabric and covered the lampshade. I added some beaded trim to the bottom. Here is a picture. I think it turned out pretty cute. Only problem is the jean material is so dark it doesn't let a lot of light through.
Last night I took another class. This one was at Mickman Bros. Nursery. We had a flower pot and added spruce, cedar, and pines along with eucalyptus, flowering kale, an orange pansy, wheat sheaves, some holly, some berries, some pine cones, a male cardinal and a female cardinal. By the way, why are pansies called pansies? They can withstand a light frost and can grow into December. They should be called toughies.

Burgeoning - On My List of Favorite Words

Twice in the past 2 days I have heard the word burgeoning; once on television and once in a book I am listening to on CD. I love the word burgeoning. I like the sound of it - the hard consonants. I like the fact that I don't hear that word very often. I like the meaning of burgeoning: to set forth new growth, to grow or expand rapidly. Burgeoning is all about progress and hope to me. As I drove east on County Road 14 to my class tonight, the full moon was burgeoning in the sky even before it was dark. On another topic, I got a surprise in the mail tonight - a free book! Do you see the list of favorite books I have on the left of my blog? I use "Library Thing." Through that website I signed up to review new books. I am so excited to be chosen. I will try to do a good job. Am I a burgeoning book reviewer?

Vanilla Sky - Cruz and Cruise

Today I had my last writing class. Today is the first Tuesday morning in 6 weeks that the sun has shined. I felt like I was going to a different destination because the sun was shining on downtown Minneapolis. Things look a lot different. Today the teacher had us write for 7 minutes about getting out of the house this morning. Then we had to write for another 7 minutes only this time we encountered something magical or fairytale like. My mind immediately went to the movie I watched last night - Vanilla Sky. I have been thinking about that movie all day long. I enjoyed the movie and I would recommend you see it but don't watch it right before you go to bed like I did because it will disturb your dreams. In the movie, Tom Cruise plays a rich and handsome young man who has everything materially but also has nothing that matters. He also has terrible nightmares. He gets up in the morning and leaves his fancy condo off Central Park in New York, gets in his fancy car and goes to Times Square and he notices that no one is out - at 9 a.m. in New York City - the streets are abandoned. His best friend is played by the actor who portrays Earl Hickey on that television show about Earl. His stalker girlfriend is played by Cameron Diaz. And she is a mean and potty mouthed stalker girlfriend. I kept thinking, "Why is Princess Fiona saying these terrible things?" His love interest is Penelope Cruz. The movie is split into two parts which you don't figure out until the amazing ending. The two parts are separated, in part, by the sky. In the second part the sky takes on a Claude Monet painting type look. It's a really good movie. One interesting thing is that the second time Tom Cruise rides his car downtown New York and there are people on the sidewalks, one of the people you see is his future wife, Katie.

A Wild and Crazy Guy - A Genius Renaissance Man

The other night while flipping through station and avoiding commercials on television, I ran across a tribute to Steve Martin. I believe he was getting a Mark Twain Award at the Kennedy Center. I saw a few minutes of people speaking about Steve Martin, people like Tom Hanks, Martin Short, Lily Tomlin and Carl Reiner. I agree that Steve Martin is a genius. His comedy routines are funny. "Excuuuuuuse Me!" He can play the banjo. Before he dropped out of college he majored in philosphy. His acting is talented. I especially liked the scene where he portrayed two bodies trying to walk in opposite directions in "All of Me." He was great on Saturday Night Live with Dan Aykroyd. He played a great Cyrono De Bergerac. I loved "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" and "Grand Canyon." "Bringing Down the House" was not that great of a movie but the reason I really like Steve Martin is because he is an author. Have you read "Shopgirl?" If not you should read it. I hear it has been made into a movie and I intend to put in in my Netflix queue. I love Steve Martin.

Not that this is in any way related but it is interesting: Today I saw my first truck load of Christmas trees heading north on Round Lake Blvd - all tied and bundled up in nets. Tis the season I guess.

Satisfaction

Today I had a moment of extreme satisfaction and contentment - driving Offspring #2 back to Northfield, listening to her tap on the keyboard of her laptop, going south on Hwy. 35, heading down into the Minnesota River Valley, watching a flock of birds doing their aerial ballet across the sky, drinking a Diet Pepsi with Lime, and listening to Led Zepplin on the radio. I love driving.

Names of Colors

Today I was walking the dog and looking at the colorful leaves on the trees and thinking about the names of colors. I remember studying fall in school and learning about colors such as scarlet (my favorite name of a color) and bronze and yellow and orange and gold and copper. I saw some pretty leaves today. There are some bushes by my house that are about the color of this font. The red oaks are a very pretty orangy brown. The pin oaks are a browner brown. My amur maple bushes range from red to orange red, to orange, to yellow-orange, to yellow. They are so pretty against the sky which was clear for a change. The soft maples are a thirst quenching yellow-green. We had a nice walk around the block. It's amazing that when I am waiting for her to go to the bathroom she has to pace 30 times, but she can pee on every driveway edge and mailbox around the whole block at will and with no hesitiation.

Homeless Veterans

This week I learned about homeless veterans. There are approximately 700 homeless veterans in our state. Not all of them are old. Some of the homeless vets have returned from the the gulf war and Iraq and Afganistan. In the St. Cloud area there are 80 to 100 homeless veterans. Seven of those homeless vets are female. The average age is 44. They stay at the Salvation Army, local churches, by the river and under bridges. Some people have trouble reintegrating into society after going to war. St. Cloud has a vet hospital so many veterans come there. But since they don't live in Benton or Stearns County, they don't qualify for assistance. Winter is coming. Steve Eisenrich is the contact person for the homeless veterans in the St. Cloud area. He has sleeping bags for everyone but needs: winter coats (large or extra large), gloves, stocking caps, insulated socks and money. He has enough womens clothing from the staff at the veterans hospital. If you are going to send money send it to Homeless Veterans, St. Cloud VA Medical Center, Building 28/Room 39, 4801 Veterans Drive, St. Cloud, MN 56303 Be sure to write "Homeless Veterans" in the memo portion on your check or the money will go into the hospital fund and the homeless veterans won't get any of it.

Pheasant!

The DNR says that this year the pheasant population level is as high as it has been in the last 20 years due to favorable weather and habitat conditions. We have more pheasants now since 1987. Pheasants used to scare the s--t out of me when I was a kid. I would walk through the pasture behind the house, on snake hill, and pheasants would squack and leap up. My heart would still be pounding long after the pheasant had flown out of sight. But aren't they beautiful birds? The feathers are so glamorous. Pheasants are native to Asia and were introduced to North America in 1857. One of my sisters says, "Pheasant!" whenever she hears a pheasant. She'll say "Pheasant" anytime, even in the middle of a sentence. If you're talking and she hears one she says, "Pheasant." It's become a contest who can say it first when a pheasant is heard. I've heard it so many times that I now say "Pheasant" when I hear one. Saying "Pheasant" when others are talking can confuse them-it's kinda funny to watch. A golden pheasant sent my on my journey to not eating meat. My ex's uncle had a game farm with pheasants, turkeys, peacocks, chickens, geese and ducks. He had one beautiful golden pheasant in a cage. I had watched this pheasant many weekend afternoons and admired his beautiful plumage. In the pheasant world, the males wore all the glamorous clothes. Eventually the golden pheasant ended up in our freezer. So I put him in the crockpot one Saturday afternoon with some onion soup mix. A few hours later I pulled him out. His little drumstick separated. I thought about this golden pheasant and pictured him sitting with his red and golden feathers and I just couldn't eat him.

Psychedelic

This week in my writing class we had to spend five minutes during class writing about a car accident. So I had to review the car accidents in my life. Twice tree limbs have crashed onto my car while parked causing hundreds of dollars of damage - I don't think those count as accidents. Twice I have been rear ended with no damage aside from the fact I could read their license plate number on my bumper for a while - those don't really count either. About 8 years ago I had my divorce accident. Everyone I know who has been divorced had a car accident during the process. Mine happened on Hwy. 47 when a young man, on his way to the spring formal dance and had his friend and the two dates in the car (both wearing strapless formals), decided to pull out from his stop sign right in front of me. Another car approaching from the south (like me) was making a right hand turn and the young driver couldn't see beyond the van so he assumed the lane was clear. I slammed on my brakes and pulled to the right and almost missed him. I was going 45 in a 50 mph zone. Everybody was fine. The girls were cold and snotty because they "were going to be late and they had reservations!" That turned out to be a strange situation because the next day a man showed up in my garage asking me about the accident. In his hand he had the police report. I didn't know you can get police reports of accidents just by asking He was the father of the driver who struck me. He said he saw my tire tracks, saw how hard I tried to avoid the accident, and thanked me because his son could have been killed. He asked if I would mind not informing his insurance company. I said I would tell my insurance company and if they wanted to work with him instead of the other company, I didn't care. Turns out he was a fleet manager of a major newspaper and might have lost his position if his insurance company found out about his son's accident. Part of his job was to investigate auto accidents. Stranger still was that he told me 3 times his daughter (not the son who had the accident) wasn't going to get her license until she was 18. I don't know why she had to be punished for her brother's mistake. Anyway, the accident I wrote about in class was the 1973 accident. I was traveling to the U of M, going north on Cleveland approaching Roselawn, when I saw a lilac bush in full bloom and a psychedelic mailbox. Boom! I smashed into the truck ahead of me. I was so surprised. The truck driver was nice. We exchanged information. My right fender crumpled and rubbed my right front tire if I turned left. So I had to figure out a way to get home making only right hand turns. Three rights do make a left but that was a lot of thinking for me because I was shaken by the accident. I made it home. We pulled the fender away from the tire so I could turn both right and left. Eventually I had the car repaired and painted orange (butterscotch gold). But as I was writing the story, I tried to imagine what the psychedelic mail box looked like. I vaguely remember pink and purple colors but not much else. So now I have to ask myself, why am I painting my mailbox in such odd ways? I went from yellow with large red polka dots to orange with blue frogs. Am I trying to cause an accident?

Did You Hear the Good News?

I have two friends dealing with cancer right now so good news about cancer is important. Death rates from cancer are decreasing steadily in the United States. Yeah! Celebrate! Lung, breast, prostrate and colorectal cancer deaths are especially decreased. Neither of my friends have those kind but still - Yeah! The decline is 2% a year as compared to previous years with only 1% decline.

Compost Happens

In honor of Blog Environmental Round up Day, I am going to blog about compost. I have composted for about 20 years. I have two compost piles now. One is a homemade bin made out of posts and 2x4's. The other is a black plastic barrel composter that I bought from my city. My home made bin is inside the garden and next to the apple tree. I thought I was so smart putting the compost pile by the apple tree. After all these years, the apple tree has realized where the compost pile is. The apple tree sends it's liquid and nutrient seeking roots across and up into the compost pile. When I take my pitchfork into the rich compost, the compost won't let go because the apple tree roots have infiltrated the compost like a million little hands. It's about impossible to get the compost out of there. The first time this happened, I dug around the compost bin and cut off all the roots heading inside. That helped for two years. Last year the apple tree, in it's infinite wisdom and unquenchable thirst for liquid and nutrients, decided to grow roots down deeper and then up again. So this year, once I get the compost out again, I will try a new tactic. I am going to put a double layer of landscape fabric at the bottom of the empty compost pile. Lets see the apple tree get through that. If it does, I can always try a sheet of metal. My compost is composed mostly of leaves and grass. I have a bagger on the mower and I dump the mulched leaves and grass clippings into the compost pile until the pile is higher than I can reach. Over the winter and summer, the pile grows lower and lower. Right now it's only a foot or so deep. I also add some soil, fruit and vegetable scraps from the kitchen, apples, rhubarb leaves, jack o lanterns, and ash from the fire place. Sometimes, if I have some extra tasty compost, I put it on top because the deer have been seen eating from the compost pile. They like to eat jack 0 lanterns, old carrots, and squash rinds. This year I have had 4 deer coming every evening between 5:30 and 6:30 to eat the apples from the ground. This saves me having to go out there to pick them up. I never see any deer with antlers eating apples though. Maybe the male deer only come out after dark.

Oh, Dysprosium!

Dysprosium is a chemical element with Atomic number 66. It has a metallic, bright silver luster and can be cut with a bolt cutters but not with a knife. The name dysprodium comes from the Greek language and means "Hard to obtain." Dysprosium was discovered in Paris in 1886 by a French chemist. Currently most dysprosium is mined in the clay ores of southern China. Dysprosium melts at a high temperature and is used in cooling rods in nuclear reactors, MRI contrast imaging, powerful magnets, actuators and sensors, and the manufacture of compact disks. Dysprosium is the name of the street that runs along the east side of my property. Oh, remember the good old days when streets were named after trees or presidents? Can you imagine being in kindergarten and having to learn how to write your address and you lived on Dysprosium? Here in Ramsey, most of the streets have number names. Going east to west, the streets are named for minerals. Sodium and Radium aren't so bad. One of Offspring #1's friends lived on Kryptonite which I thought was very cool. But Dysprosium just doesn't float my boat. Neither does Potassium, Tungstun or Zeolite, Yttrium or Zirconium, Barium or Hermatite, Iodine or Germanium. Closer to Elk River, the town started naming streets after animals. There is a Kangaroo street, Nutria, Ferret, Wolfram, Jackal, Gibbon, Ocelot, Marmoset, and Ermine. My street is off St. Francis Boulevard - a nice name for a street. North of here is Green Valley Road. Also a nice name but both those streets have too much traffic for my taste. I wouldn't want to live on Waco Street. Andover names their streets after Native American tribes - interesting but some are hard to spell and pronounce. Coon Rapids names streets after flowers and birds. I like those names but I'm glad I don't live on Narcissus Avenue or Grouse Lane. Anoka uses the names of presidents and I like that. Let me see how many streets names I have had: Transit, Portland, Arcade, St. Germain Boulevard, Pleasant Lake, Fifth Avenue, Minnehaha Avenue, Bates, 41st, Knox, 116th and 164th. Funny, I can't remember two street names and they were both mobile homes.

I Have Hope for Charlie Brown

I know we all laugh at the blockhead Charlie Brown because he trusts Lucy to hold the football for him. Time after time she pulls it away but he keeps on trying and ends up flat on his back. He keeps giving her the benefit of his doubt. And just like the sun rises in the morning, Lucy pulls the ball back out of his reach. I have hope for Charlie. Charlie Brown is trusting but he is not stupid. He is not a blockhead. He will figure it out. He will come to understand that Lucy does not say what she means. Everytime he approaches that football is another chance to learn. The fact that he has tried so many times and failed is a testament to his good nature. Charlie Brown rocks!

Memory Keepers Daughter

I have belonged to the Northdale Book Club for 3 years now. In October we reviewed The Memory Keepers Daughter, a book written by Kim Edwards. Here is what the jacket says about the book: This stunning novel begins on a winter night in 1964 when a blizzard forces Dr. David Henry to deliver his own twins. His son, born first is perfectly healthy but the doctor recognized that his daugher has Down Syndrome. For motives that he tells himself are good he makes a split second decision that changes all their lives forever. He asks his nurse, Caroline, to take the baby away to live in an institution. Instead she disappears into another city to raise the child as her own. Compulsively readable and completely moving, The Memory Keepers Daughter is a brilliantly crafted story of parallel lives, familial secrets, and the redemptive power of love. Our discussion of the book got very heated at times. Because I work with people who have Down Syndrome every day, I am sometimes startled by what other people think of people who have Down Syndrome. We got into a discussion about mainstreaming - allowing children with disabilities to be a part of the rest of the school. Schools used to keep the kids with disabilities separate. Now they can join the rest of the students for all or part of the day. I think this was a change for the better. I think our society should include people with disabilities. I think the kids in school should see people who use wheelchairs or talking devices or other adaptive equipment. I think children can benefit from friendships with kids with disabilities as much as the kids with disabilities can benefit from friendships with kids who don't have disabilites. Not everyone agrees with me. If kids with disabilities are bullied by some children, is that all bad? Not that being bullied is good but it is an experience that almost everyone goes through. I thought this book was very though provoking. We all agreed that the daughter with Down Syndrome had a better life being taken away by Caroline the nurse than she would have had with her birth parents who undoubtably would have put her in an institution.

Traffic Cop

Today the building I work in had the annual fire drill. This is a big deal for us. We have to move 130+ vulnerable adults out the door, through the parking lot and out to the street. We're talking huge deficits in street safety skills here. Plus we have to get them back in again safely. Most of the people can walk but others use wheelchairs, canes, or walkers. Some of the people who can walk have difficulty walking on uneven surfaces or for any long distance. Some are wheeled out in desk chairs because they can't stand for a long time. Because we have had difficulty with vehicles trying to leave the parking lot and drive through our crowd of vulnerable people during previous drills, we asked a couple staff from the food shelf to assist us by stopping traffic. These people tried to stop the traffic but the drivers would not listen. They pushed past the staff (who were wearing lime green safety vests, as was I) and drove through our crowd. What the heck? They could see the parking lot was crowded with people. They could see the green vested people were motioning for them to stop. Yet they continued. One of the vehicles disregarding our helper's prompts to wait was a school bus driver! You'd think a school bus driver would be more concerned about pedestrian safety. I do not understand . Just because you're driving a car in a parking lot does not mean you can proceed no matter what is happening right in front of your eyes. Some people were honking. When I saw a tan Saturn try to nose her way through our crowd of vulnerable people and split them into two groups, I got angry. I planted my back end a couple inches in front of that car and stood there. The driver crept up to me. She nearly touched my leg with her front bumper. I didn't care. Oh, I can be assertive when the occassion calls for it and this occassion called for it. I was reminded of that traffic officer who was pushed by a football player. This driver did not push me but when the wind blew to the east the fabric of my pants was touching her vehicle-that is how close she was. I should have made her wait a few unnecessary moments. Some people cheese me off.

What is Your Dog Afraid Of?

With all the stormy weather we've had in the past month, I've been hearing a lot about dogs that are fearful of storms. A neighbor dog gets so frightened that no human can console her. Even after a dose of benadryl, this poor old dog cannot be consoled. Another dog who lives in Mora cannot go outside to do her business until the storm has subsided. Lucky for me, my dog is not afraid of storms. But Blunder has her fears. Blunder is afraid of pampas grass. At the end of our block a neighbor has a healthy patch of pampas grass and my dog acts like pampas grass is a ghost. But only when the wind blows hard. If the air is still or if there is only a light breeze, she can bravely march past the pampas grass. But if the pampas flumes undulate from the wind, you would think she was walking past a ghost. She hangs back as we approach the spectral grass. When I urge her to come forward, she walks as far away

from the grass as she can get given her retractable 15 foot leash. She has a panicked look on her little face as she keeps looking back at me. When we get half way past the horrific pampas grass, she runs ahead to get as far away from it as possible. And as we turn the corner, she looks back at the grass to see if it is following us home. I have no sympathy. I say to her, "Oooh, the pampas grass is coming to get you!" Monday she had a similar reaction to a pile of discarded carpeting laying on the curb for the garbage haulers. I asked her, out loud (what must my neighbors think?), "Seriously, you're afraid of carpeting?"

The Weeping Camel

I've been watching foreign films lately and I have to say, this one was excellent. This movie is about a family living in Mongolia, in the Golbi Desert. The land is very arid and windy and cold. The family lives in a yurt - a roundish tent like dwelling that doesn't look like much from the outside but is elegant and comfortable on the inside. The grandparents, parents and children all live together. They raise camels and goats and sheep. They are agricultural people. The movie shows the family raising the children, eating meals, playing games, and worshipping. Their lives are simple but fulfilling. The shows starts with the breeding season of the camel herd. WARNING! Don't read any further if you are going to watch the movie. The last camel to give birth has a terrible time of it. This is her first born and she is in labor for two days. She tries to leave and go off by herself in the desert but they bring her back. The family has to help her birth the camel. The family is very respectful of their animals and they treat the animals with patience and understanding. But the young female camel is traumatized and does not want to nurse her young calf. She kicks at him to get away from her. The family tries several ways to get the calf to nurse. They talk about it every evening and try new ideas the next day. The entire family focuses their problem solving skills on this young calf and his very non-maternal mother. The family milks the camel and tries to feed the calf through a hollowed out horn with a nipple. But that isn't enough to keep the calf going. After consulting with the neighboring farms, they decide they have to ask for help from, of all people, a violinist. So the teenage boy and his younger brother travel, via camel, to the nearest town. So the boys go to the town. The youngest brother is intrigued with television. This town has electricity and televisions. He wants this for himself. They go to the school and track down the orchestra director. A couple days after the boys return home, a violinist comes to visit their farm via a motorcycle. The violin is different. It is held between the legs and rests on the floor like a cello. The violin has two strings on it. The bow is similar to our bows. The sound it makes has that Asian sound to it. When the violinist arrives, he is treated to a snack of milk and bread. The violinist and the whole family including neighbors goes outside. The violinist puts a blue strap on his violin and hangs it over the Momma camel's hump. The wind passes over the strings and it makes a natural music. After a few minutes of wearing the violin, the camel listens as the violinist performs for her. The mother of the family sings a song and the violinist accompanies her. After two songs, the father of the family brings the calf to encourages it to suckle. This time the mother camels lets her baby nurse. Tears stream from the camel's eyes as her baby nurses. I was amazed that in such a primitive existance, a violinist is hired to solve an agricultural problem. Later, when the violinist and the family are celebrating by having dinner together, the young boy asks for a television set. The Grandfather says it would not be good to spend all day watching the images in a glass box. Watching, I nod in agreement, as I sit there watching the images in a glass box myself. Television would totally change their living situation. This was a wonderful movie and I highly recommend it. Two Thumbs Up for The Weeping Camel.

Nipply Weather

I have this friend and she is a dear friend but almost every day I see her she makes me cringe and say, "Oh my God, K___!" Today, with a smile and very nonchalant, she says to me, "Nipply weather we're having." I responded with my typical, "Oh my God, K___!" That is probably why she does it. She is a very strange woman. Today I told her I would like to meet her parents. She told me they were surpisingly normal. Things that are strange about her: 1. her hair cut. She wears her hair about a half inch long and spiked all over her head. Whenever she gets a trim she seeks me out, runs her hand down the back of her head in a seductive manner, and says, "Call me Carl." And I say, "Oh, my God, K___!" 2. She loves Sponge Bob Square pants and she knows the different episodes. She has each plot memorized and can talk about them at length. 3. She loves all things that are gross. She delights in discussing gross things. She will tell people gross things. Even when the listener says, "I don't want to hear it!" she giggles and continues to gross them out. 4. Although she is middle aged, she dresses like a 9th grader - and she looks good doing that. 5. She has wide musical tastes and she loves going to heavy metal concerts - NIN, the works. 6. She is the sweetest, most caring and thoughtful person you could want to know.

Signs of Fall - Not Signs of Fall

Today it is 80 degrees outside and humid. I walked through the yard and swept the fall leaves off the sidewalk. The leaves cling to the dog's fur and I get leaves all over the house. The weather has been so unusally warm and wet that Mother Nature is getting confused. My black eyes susans are in bloom again.

And this afternoon, while brushing the dog, I found a wood tick by her eye. What is this craziness that I find a wood tick in October?

Shy Bird

I've been hearing a new bird all summer. Everytime I go outside to find out what it looks like, the bird stops making noise. This bird makes an incredible sound like nothing I've heard before. The sound comes in 11 parts. The first 10 parts are clacks. Clacks is a new word combining clucks and quacks. The bird clucks repititively like a chicken but sounds like a quack. After quickly clacking 10 times it makes a final elongated noise that sounds just like a door creaking in a haunted house. The bird sounds like this: quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack quack ssccchhhrrreeeeeeccccchhhhh! I can't imagine what kind of bird this is. I am hoping the bare trees will allow me to get a glimpse of it before it leaves for the winter. I heard it yesterday in the neighbor's yard but I just couldn't find it. It's a shy bird.

I'm off to a wedding. A little girl I knew has grown up and is getting married. This girl was like a growth on her mother's leg when she was young. She would grab onto her mother's thigh for dear life for about a year - probably when she was 3. Later she taught my Offspring #1 how to ride a bike. She used to come over to play with the kids but then ask if she could help me dust or put dishes away. I didn't mind at all. I liked the help with the housework. When her mother would come over to get her I'd tell her Mom how much help she was giving me. Her Mom would be exasperated because the girl wouldn't help at home with housework. This little girl even helped us move into the house we have now - she unpacked the kitchen. Today she is getting married. How time flies.

The Power of a Teacher

Two Thumbs Up for the documentary movie called Paperclips. The story is about a teacher from Tennessee and her project to teach her class about tolerance. The teacher considered her class of 8th graders. The class was uniformly poor and uniformly white. She chose the Holocaust as the topic to promote tolerance. The students asked what 6 million was. They had no concept of the number. To demonstrate 6 million, the school chose to collect paperclips. Paperclips were invented in Norway and worn by Norwegians as a silent yet safe tribute to the Jews being murdered in Germany. Norwegians wore paperclips on their lapels in support of the Jews. The students began to write to people asking for paperclips. They wrote to famous people, family, and friends. Paperclips came in slowly at first but the project snowballed. They ended up with 24 million paperclips from all over the world. The school was full of boxes and barrels of paperclips. They thought it would be good to store the paperclips in a train car like the train cars that hauled Jewish people to the death camps. So they got a train car from Germany that was used to haul Jewish people to Treblinka. They had it installed on the school property. They built a ramp on both sides of the rail car so people could walk through the car and out again. They decided to put 11 million paper clips in the train car. Half the paperclips were for the Jewish people who were murdered and 5 million for the other people who were murdered in Germany - the Jehovah Witnesses, the homosexuals and the disabled. The children carefully chose which paperclips went into the train. Survivors from Nazi death camps came to the small town of Whitwell, Tennessee to speak about their experiences. This project was completed over 4 years time. For some of the students it was a life changing experience. Most of the town helped out by preparing the memorial and listening to the speakers. If you go to Whitwell, Tennessee, you can see the railroad car and paperclips for yourself.

Spudnik

Here is a photo of part of the celebration in Russia of the launch of the Spudnik 50 years ago today. Spudnik was the very first satellite. If not for this historic event, how would our lives differ? Russia ignited the American competitive spirit when it launched Spudnik. The race to the moon began. Russia and the USA were neck and neck for a long time. I suspect we would be in a very different place today if Russia had not launched Spudnik in 1957.

Homework

I have had homework for the past few weeks because of the writing class I am taking. In some ways, homework has been fun. But yesterday the homework was hard. We are learning about points of view. Writing is done in the first person, the second person, the third person limited, the authorian intrusion, or the omniscient. So my homework for one night was to rewrite a familiar fairy tale in the first person and then write it again from the third person. This is hard!

Orgasmic

Today I did some yoga poses. My medical restrictions are over now. I can lift my arms above my head.

Oh, Lord, that felt so good. I could feel the good effects for over an hour. I could feel healthy juices moving down my shoulders and into my upper back.

It felt so good I did some more poses. Just to be able to bend and stretch made me feel so much better. I work with people with disabilities. Some of these people do not have full range of motion. Some have brittle bones and contractures. Some of them have not been able to move their arms over their head or stretch their back for years. I am so fortunate to have my health. I may walk with a limp and sometimes using a cane helps me walk faster, but I am still way better off than other people I know.
I am not as agile and healthy as some but better than others. I am grateful for what I have. I learned today that a friend of mine has a health problem that is uncertain and concerning. Please say a prayer. Thanks.

Statewide Smoking Ban Starts Today

Today the statewide smoking ban takes effect. As a result of this new law, the smoking shack where I work has changed. I've worked at this building for about 15 years. It's a 4 story government center building. Over the years the smoke shake has changed in ways I could never have predicted. Originally we didn't have a smoking shack. Smokers stood outside the doors to smoke. There were and still are cigarette trays on top of the garbage containers for smokers to extinguish their butts. People complained about having to walk through a haze of smoke to enter the building. Property Management staff put signs on the doors directing people to move 20 feet away from the door to smoke. Yet they kept the garbage container/ash trays near the doors so people continued to smoke near the door. So Property Management added more signs to the lobby. At one time I counted 12 signs in the lobby - one on each side of the 4 doors, one outside, one inside and a couple between the doors on the side walls. Eventually they built a smoke shack. Originally it was a pole barn style smoking shack - just a roof on 4 pillars. The roof had shingles and it looked okay. Tables and chairs and ashtrays were added. But the smokers got cold and since (in my humble opinion) property management staff were all smokers, walls were added to 3 sides of the smoke shack. Only the eastern side of the smoke shack - the side that faced the parking lot did not have a wall. Then people were concerned that crime could occur unseen in the smoke shack because no one could see into it from inside the building. Large windows were added to the 3 sides of the smoke shack that had walls. The smoke shack is on the same side of the building as the daycare. Daycare staff did not want their charges exposed to second hand smoke and the obscene language used by some smokers. Property Management considered moving the smoke shack to the west side of the building but this was not done because of the expense of moving the smoke shack. So the kids still get to see, hear, and smell the smokers smoking. Now, because of the statewide smoking ban, the windows were removed from the smoke shack. Did they think the windows made this a building? So now the smoke shack has a 4 poles, a roof, 3 walls, and 3 glass less holes in the wall. I hear they are thinking of putting screens into the 3 holes in the walls. If they do, I predict the inventive smokers will bring a spray bottle of water outside in the winter, mist the screens and creating their own temporary ice glass windows. What a world. So glad I don't smoke anymore.