Lioness

A special person in my life had a birthday so I made her this lioness mosaic.  It's a lioness leaping from one rock to another over a gully.  I had a ton of fun making the mosaic and I think it turned out well, so well I almost kept it for myself.  Plus I got to use some of the blue glass I bought a couple months ago. This person has a theory that all people fall into one of three categories:  a lion, a golden retriever, or an otter.  A lion is a leader of others.  A golden retriever's main objective is to please others.  An otter is impulsive and in the moment; not one to plan ahead or be dependable.  She perceives herself to be a blend of lion and golden retriever and she is working on reducing the golden retriever tendencies.  So I made her this lion mosaic and if she likes it half as much as I enjoyed making and giving it to her, I have done well.

Happy Birthday

If my older sister had lived to be old enough to work, she would be 65 today and eligible to retire.  Here is our picture with our matching tennis shoes.  I miss her terribly and think of her all the time.  Even though she has been gone for nearly 60 years, her voice is still in my head. The sentences I imagine her saying to me are always kind and supportive and uplifting.  Her spirit has gotten me through some difficult times.  She died so young.  She was just a child actually.  And even though she died at the tender age of seven she remains one of the most influential people in my life.

I Made A Walrus

Today was a beautiful day outside.  The temperature went up to 60 degrees in February no less.  I saw people walking their dogs, biking, motorcycling, and pulling children in a wagon.  How did I enjoy my afternoon outside?  I set my yard on fire.  In the prairie area east of the house I set about 15 fires.  I did it safely.  I lit one at a time.  With the wet ground and the snow piles, I didn't think things would get out of hand.

Hopefully my big bluestem and Indian grass will grow better after the burn.  Plus I got to indulge the pyromaniac side of me. I could actually hear the snow sizzle on this fire.

When I light a circle of grass, I don't know which way the fire will grow.  In this case the fire formed a cursive capital F (for fire maybe) and a walrus.

Killed By A What?

Today I read an article in the Duluth News Tribune about an incident that happened in Spring Valley, Wisconsin last year on the 4th of July.  This is just such a strange story you know it's not fiction.  A local farmer hears noises at the neighboring farm.  She thinks she hears the sound of a cannon over and over again but she doesn't complain because she doesn't want to disrupt the party.  The next day she goes into her barn where she finds a hole in the roof of the barn and a bowling ball in hay of the horse stall.  She calls the police to complain.  Later she finds one of her horses dead in the pasture with a bump on it's head and a bowling pin nearby.  She finds bowling pins and bowling balls all over the pasture. Police investigate the matter.  The neighbor admits her brother was firing a cannon at her house at her 4th of July party.  She said he said it was safe.  She said he said all the bowling balls would land on her property and be buried deep into the soil.  Well, he was wrong.  He was so wrong he put a hole in the roof of a barn and killed a horse with a bowling pin.  He killed a horse by shooting a bowling pin out of a cannon.  Geez!  What are the chances?  And why can't I be invited to fun parties where cannons are fired?

Nurse Jackie

I like a story well told and the HBO series, "Nurse Jackie," is  a story well told.  I borrowed the series from my local library because I don't have cable television and last night I finished season 7; the final season.  I couldn't stop thinking about Jackie.  Jackie.  She is a sinner.  She is a saint.  Jackie is an addict.  And just when I think, "Oh, she wouldn't do that," Jackie does just that.  Jackie is fascinating but so is Zooey and Coop and Eddie and Nurse Akilitis and Thor and Jackie's two daughters.  "Nurse Jackie" is just a story but I'm going to miss these people and I'm going to miss All Saints Hospital in Manhattan.

Innocent Child

As I approached the building where I work this afternoon, I saw a parent and a child on the sidewalk nearing the first lane of traffic in the parking lot.  The parent was not holding the child's hand.  The child looked to be about three years old.  I heard the parent say, "What are you, stupid?  Don't you know enough to watch for cars in the parking lot?"  I've seen other examples of less than optimal parenting styles in the building but this one made my eyes well up.  I need to remember this interaction.  The next time I encounter someone who is rude or angry or who seems to have an overabundance of emotional baggage, I want to remember this child I saw today. I wish I could inoculate them with resilience.  I can't fix it.  I'm pretty sure this child will have issues as an adult. What I can do is try to refrain from judging people.  What I can do is try to make all my interactions with others a positive experience or at least a neutral experience.  I can try to avoid negative interactions with others.  It's the least I can do.  That poor kid today was just an innocent child.

The Book of Life

I read Upton Sinclair's The Book of Life: Volume 1, Mind and Body.  I thought it would be interesting to read something by Sinclair since he was a prize winning journalist and I already loved his book The Jungle.  The Jungle exposed the dark side of the meat packing industry and the Food and Drug Administration was started in part because of this novel.   I liked that story and that is why I chose this one which is full of advice from Upton to us.  After reading this book, if I had to picture Upton Sinclair he would look like Bernie Sanders.  Sinclair was a socialist.  He writes about the dangers of capitalism.  He was a free thinker.  I find it incredible that this book, written in 1921, nearly 100 years ago, talks about current events like diet and disease, vaccines, and the health benefits of nature.  One of the things he write very early in the book has stuck with me for weeks now.  He wrote that the pursuit of money is human cannibalism.  How could that be?  I work for money.  I pursue money by working 40 hours a week.  Am I a cannibal?  A cannibal eats the flesh of another animal of the same kind.  I don't do that!  But then I started thinking about people who pursue money more seriously than I do.  What about Martin Shkreli?  Is he a cannibal?  He changed the price of a pill that fights parasites from $13.50 to $750.  Why did he raise the price that much?  He says, and I quote, "If there was a company that was selling an Aston Martin at the price of a bicycle, and we buy that company and we ask to charge Toyota prices, I don’t think that that should be a crime".  I think Upton Sinclair is right.  The single-minded pursuit of money makes us cannibals.  Martin Shkreli is a cannibal and he's not the only one.  This book is old but still true.