She had not felt well for several days. It wasn’t anything specific that she could put a name to, she’d just felt generally blah and had no energy. Bill offered to do the grocery shopping. She fixed a cup of peppermint tea, hoping that might perk her up, and was sitting at the table with it when he carried in the first sack and set it on the table. As he returned to the car to bring the rest in, she listlessly began to remove items from the sack, but stopped with the second item, and stared at it in horror. When Bill returned to the kitchen he found her with her head in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Annie, honey, what’s wrong?”
“How could you?” she sobbed.
“What, what did I do?”
“You think I’m old!” Punctuated with more gulping sobs she continued, “I’m not old, I’m not! I’m not my mother, I‘m not my grandma!”
“Honey, what are you talking about?”
As she got up and began moving towards the bedroom, she screamed, through more sobs, “Just leave me alone!” and slammed the bedroom door behind her.
Bill followed and started to enter the bedroom, but backed away when the screaming and sobbing continued, accompanied by small objects from the nightstand being thrown at him.
She continued to sob for some time, and finally fell asleep. When she woke a couple of hours later, she washed her face and made a feeble attempt at brushing her hair into some semblance of order, then walked to the living room where Bill was watching TV. As soon as he saw her, he hit the mute button.
“Annie, are you OK?”
She was feeling a little sheepish now, and quietly said, “Yes.”
“Annie, what did I do?”
“It was the cereal.”
“The cereal?”
“Well, kind of. It was more my mom and grandma.” When he just stared at her she continued.
“They were both obsessed with getting fiber in their diet, and were forever talking about how it became even more important as you get old. And you brought home a box of fiber cereal.”
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
HOW MUCH DIFFERENCE CAN ONE PERSON MAKE
Have you ever been in a conversation about something major, like poverty, homelessness, or hunger, and heard someone say something like “I’m only one person, how much difference can I make?” Maybe you’ve even said it yourself. I’d like to illustrate how much difference one person can make.
Some years ago Larry became interested in the Lakota Sioux spirituality. This eventually led him to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. Through the various ceremonies he participated in, plus conversations with the Medicine Man, he learned more about the Lakota spirituality, and the importance they place on family and giving back to the community.
He also became acutely aware of the severe poverty on the reservation. The U.S. Census Bureau lists Pine Ridge as the most poverty stricken area in the United States. The majority of those living on the reservation live in trailer homes; second hand trailer homes that provide minimal protection from the elements. It isn’t unusual to see frost on the inside of the walls during the harsh South Dakota winters. Food and heat are often scarce. Medical care is limited and without easy access. The reasons for all this are many and complex. He also learned that because of all this, very often the children of Pine Ridge had no Christmas gifts.
Larry is a musician, and in 2003 he arranged a benefit concert to collect toys for the Pine Ridge children. Several of his musician friends agreed to perform at the concert. The place where it was held was small; admission was one new unwrapped toy or $5.00. He was nervous prior to the concert, hoping he could collect a decent amount of toys to take to the reservation. It was standing room only the night of the concert. $500.00 in cash was collected, along with a large selection of toys. He and his wife went shopping with the money, and had as much fun as if they were children shopping for themselves.
The toys were loaded into his friend’s camper pickup without one square inch of space left over, and then began the nine hour trip to the reservation. Later, Larry told of hearing a very small boy say to his mother during the passing out of toys;
“See Mom, I told you Santa wouldn’t forget.”
Larry’s comment about this was, “How can you NOT go back after that?”
The following year there were three concerts, producing enough toys to fill a 16 foot truck; a truck that had been donated by a large trucking firm.
Word began to spread, and when the fourth year rolled around, a local motorcycle club asked to be a part of the toy drive. They made all the arrangements for yet another concert. Prior to this the toys had been stored in the basement of Larry’s parent’s home. This was no longer practical because of the volume of toys. Someone else solved the problem by donating the use of a 10x20 foot storage space. A twenty foot truck was needed this year, again donated by the large trucking firm. The men from the motorcycle club wanted to help with the loading, and also go along for the giveaway. These are guys in their forties and fifties. During the loading of the toys, one of them was seen to pick up a stuffed toy, hug it, then laugh and loudly say, “Oh it talks!” Where else could you see a guy in his forties, wearing a motorcycle jacket, with the prerequisite bandana on his head get so excited about a talking stuffed toy?
In addition to the five concerts this year, someone from a local radio station contacted Larry and proposed to do a radiothon for the toy drive. Merchandise from local businesses was donated and auctioned off. Many of the musicians who performed at the concerts played during the four hour radio show. Approximately $3,000.00 was collected from this venture.
In year five, 2008, the national and global economy was in a steep downward slide. In spite of this, the radiothon collected slightly more than the previous year. In 2009 the decision was made to donate half the money collected by the radiothon to the American Indian College Scholarship fund.
By now, many people were becoming involved with the toy drive. A group of women baked hundreds of cookies, and a caravan of a dozen or more people headed to the reservation. Some of the money collected was used to buy pizzas to feed everyone who gathered for the giveaway. The truck this year was a 24 foot truck, again filled to capacity. The caravan set off on a blustery winter day a few days before Christmas. Not long after leaving Omaha, they began having problems with the truck. Frequent stops and phone calls provided no answer to the problem. Much of the trip was made at 40 mph, as that was all the speed they could coax out of the truck. It seems as if willpower alone kept the truck running long enough to arrive at the reservation, after thirteen long hours on the road. The trucking company instructed them to leave the truck there, and arranged for a tow truck to return it to Omaha, with no cost to the toy drive.
Someone had suggested that a Christmas CD be produced. The majority of the songs were original, written and performed by local bands. The cost of studio time and mastering of the CD was donated. All proceeds from the sales of these CDs were used to buy toys. It was such a success that volume two of Christmas for Pine Ridge was produced for year six, again with nearly all original songs.
Now, it is year six of the Pine Ridge Toy Drive, and once again more sponsors have been collected. A comedian who was scheduled to play at a local comedy club, designated one night for the toy drive. Admission would be one new, unwrapped toy. In addition, the comedian arranged to have a collection site in the lobby for people to leave additional donations. During the four days of his show, nearly $2,000 was collected, along with many toys.
Someone else took on the responsibility of gathering food items to donate to the reservation. Another person put himself in charge of collecting clothing.
The shopping trip has now become something of a party. Family, friends, and musicians gather late in the evening, to avoid much of the crowds of Christmas shoppers. Everyone carries a calculator, and is told how much money they can spend. They spread throughout the store, picking and choosing as they wish. When everyone has spent their allotted amount, the shopping carts are gathered at one checkout stand. A line of 12-18 shopping carts generates a lot of attention and questions. And a lot of fun.
The musicians from one of the local bands began video taping everything: the recording studio sessions, interviews with the musicians, the concerts, the shopping trip for toys, and arranged to be at the reservation to tape the giveaway. The plan is to produce a short documentary of all this.
What began as one persons wish to provide Christmas for children who otherwise might not have one has blossomed into an official non-profit venue. None of the money collected is used for expenses. All that is covered by Larry. The response to all this has been so successful that some of the money is donated to the heat aid fund on the reservation
No one person could accomplish all this by themselves, but without the initial action of one person, none of this would have happened.
For more information about the toy drive, the official website is www.lashlaruetoydrive.com
Some years ago Larry became interested in the Lakota Sioux spirituality. This eventually led him to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. Through the various ceremonies he participated in, plus conversations with the Medicine Man, he learned more about the Lakota spirituality, and the importance they place on family and giving back to the community.
He also became acutely aware of the severe poverty on the reservation. The U.S. Census Bureau lists Pine Ridge as the most poverty stricken area in the United States. The majority of those living on the reservation live in trailer homes; second hand trailer homes that provide minimal protection from the elements. It isn’t unusual to see frost on the inside of the walls during the harsh South Dakota winters. Food and heat are often scarce. Medical care is limited and without easy access. The reasons for all this are many and complex. He also learned that because of all this, very often the children of Pine Ridge had no Christmas gifts.
Larry is a musician, and in 2003 he arranged a benefit concert to collect toys for the Pine Ridge children. Several of his musician friends agreed to perform at the concert. The place where it was held was small; admission was one new unwrapped toy or $5.00. He was nervous prior to the concert, hoping he could collect a decent amount of toys to take to the reservation. It was standing room only the night of the concert. $500.00 in cash was collected, along with a large selection of toys. He and his wife went shopping with the money, and had as much fun as if they were children shopping for themselves.
The toys were loaded into his friend’s camper pickup without one square inch of space left over, and then began the nine hour trip to the reservation. Later, Larry told of hearing a very small boy say to his mother during the passing out of toys;
“See Mom, I told you Santa wouldn’t forget.”
Larry’s comment about this was, “How can you NOT go back after that?”
The following year there were three concerts, producing enough toys to fill a 16 foot truck; a truck that had been donated by a large trucking firm.
Word began to spread, and when the fourth year rolled around, a local motorcycle club asked to be a part of the toy drive. They made all the arrangements for yet another concert. Prior to this the toys had been stored in the basement of Larry’s parent’s home. This was no longer practical because of the volume of toys. Someone else solved the problem by donating the use of a 10x20 foot storage space. A twenty foot truck was needed this year, again donated by the large trucking firm. The men from the motorcycle club wanted to help with the loading, and also go along for the giveaway. These are guys in their forties and fifties. During the loading of the toys, one of them was seen to pick up a stuffed toy, hug it, then laugh and loudly say, “Oh it talks!” Where else could you see a guy in his forties, wearing a motorcycle jacket, with the prerequisite bandana on his head get so excited about a talking stuffed toy?
In addition to the five concerts this year, someone from a local radio station contacted Larry and proposed to do a radiothon for the toy drive. Merchandise from local businesses was donated and auctioned off. Many of the musicians who performed at the concerts played during the four hour radio show. Approximately $3,000.00 was collected from this venture.
In year five, 2008, the national and global economy was in a steep downward slide. In spite of this, the radiothon collected slightly more than the previous year. In 2009 the decision was made to donate half the money collected by the radiothon to the American Indian College Scholarship fund.
By now, many people were becoming involved with the toy drive. A group of women baked hundreds of cookies, and a caravan of a dozen or more people headed to the reservation. Some of the money collected was used to buy pizzas to feed everyone who gathered for the giveaway. The truck this year was a 24 foot truck, again filled to capacity. The caravan set off on a blustery winter day a few days before Christmas. Not long after leaving Omaha, they began having problems with the truck. Frequent stops and phone calls provided no answer to the problem. Much of the trip was made at 40 mph, as that was all the speed they could coax out of the truck. It seems as if willpower alone kept the truck running long enough to arrive at the reservation, after thirteen long hours on the road. The trucking company instructed them to leave the truck there, and arranged for a tow truck to return it to Omaha, with no cost to the toy drive.
Someone had suggested that a Christmas CD be produced. The majority of the songs were original, written and performed by local bands. The cost of studio time and mastering of the CD was donated. All proceeds from the sales of these CDs were used to buy toys. It was such a success that volume two of Christmas for Pine Ridge was produced for year six, again with nearly all original songs.
Now, it is year six of the Pine Ridge Toy Drive, and once again more sponsors have been collected. A comedian who was scheduled to play at a local comedy club, designated one night for the toy drive. Admission would be one new, unwrapped toy. In addition, the comedian arranged to have a collection site in the lobby for people to leave additional donations. During the four days of his show, nearly $2,000 was collected, along with many toys.
Someone else took on the responsibility of gathering food items to donate to the reservation. Another person put himself in charge of collecting clothing.
The shopping trip has now become something of a party. Family, friends, and musicians gather late in the evening, to avoid much of the crowds of Christmas shoppers. Everyone carries a calculator, and is told how much money they can spend. They spread throughout the store, picking and choosing as they wish. When everyone has spent their allotted amount, the shopping carts are gathered at one checkout stand. A line of 12-18 shopping carts generates a lot of attention and questions. And a lot of fun.
The musicians from one of the local bands began video taping everything: the recording studio sessions, interviews with the musicians, the concerts, the shopping trip for toys, and arranged to be at the reservation to tape the giveaway. The plan is to produce a short documentary of all this.
What began as one persons wish to provide Christmas for children who otherwise might not have one has blossomed into an official non-profit venue. None of the money collected is used for expenses. All that is covered by Larry. The response to all this has been so successful that some of the money is donated to the heat aid fund on the reservation
No one person could accomplish all this by themselves, but without the initial action of one person, none of this would have happened.
For more information about the toy drive, the official website is www.lashlaruetoydrive.com
Friday, September 24, 2010
POLITICAL CAMPAIGNS RUN AMOK
It’s difficult to find any average citizen who doesn’t express frustration with the seemingly never-ending political campaigning prior to any election. It begins months before any given election, sometimes more than a year. The result being the airwaves are glutted with political ads, the majority of them simply throwing dirt at the opposing candidate; highways and streets cluttered with signs for various candidates; and obscene amounts of money spent on all this. In today’s world, especially, it seems more than criminal to spend money in this manner when food pantry shelves are nearly empty and more and more U.S. citizens are becoming homeless, often through little or no fault of their own. You will also occasionally hear a politician complain that too much of their time is spent in fund raising activities when they could be using that time to do what they were elected to do.
I have an idea for fixing this problem. Limit all campaigning to no more than two months prior to any election. It seems to me that if a candidate can’t explain who they are and what they stand for in two months, they probably have no business holding the office they are seeking.
Yes, I know, there would be a giant outcry about first amendment violations. Perhaps we could circumvent this by pointing out that this type of speech isn’t “free.” Go ahead and say anything you want, anywhere you want, so long as you are not spending money to do it, except for the two months prior to the election.
I don’t have the organizational skills to promote an idea like this, and for reasons I prefer not to go into, I don’t have the energy to do it even if I did have those skills.
Is there anyone out there who might be interested in taking on the challenge of changing the way political campaigns are handled?
I have an idea for fixing this problem. Limit all campaigning to no more than two months prior to any election. It seems to me that if a candidate can’t explain who they are and what they stand for in two months, they probably have no business holding the office they are seeking.
Yes, I know, there would be a giant outcry about first amendment violations. Perhaps we could circumvent this by pointing out that this type of speech isn’t “free.” Go ahead and say anything you want, anywhere you want, so long as you are not spending money to do it, except for the two months prior to the election.
I don’t have the organizational skills to promote an idea like this, and for reasons I prefer not to go into, I don’t have the energy to do it even if I did have those skills.
Is there anyone out there who might be interested in taking on the challenge of changing the way political campaigns are handled?
Saturday, September 11, 2010
RUBBING SALT IN A WOUND
It has been just over nine years since September 11, 2001, now referred to as simply 9/11.
It is a day that will live on in history indefinitely, in much the same way December 7, 1941 does. There are similarities in both days, Americans were attacked on their own soil. In both cases America must share a small part of the blame due to lack of vigilance, breakdowns in communication and a degree of complacency.
There are differences between these two days. In 1941 we were attacked by a foreign military; in 2001 the attack was carried out by a small group of radical civilians. In 1941 we responded by declaring war on Japan. In the aftermath of 9/11 we attacked a nation that was not directly involved in the attack.
In the aftermath of 12/7/194l there was a surge of anti Japanese sentiment, causing hundreds of Japanese American citizens to be incarcerated in compounds, simply because of their Japanese heritage. I think most Americans today would agree that was not one of our country’s finer moments.
Today, following 9/11, we direct our hate and fear at anyone who practices the Muslim religion. In my opinion we encourage this kind of hatred by loudly re-parading the pain that day caused every time the calendar circles around to the next September 11th.
Do we need to remember that day? Of course we do. We need to remember the mistakes that helped to allow it to happen. We need to remember the attack was carried out by a small group of individuals with the twisted idea that their way is the only right way. Even if you include all of Al Qaeda, it is still a small group of people in the grand scheme of things. No person, group or religion should ever be conceited enough to believe that their way is the only right way.
We don’t need to remember it by fanning the pain it produced; we don’t need to remember it by threatening to burn the Holy book of a religion we choose not to practice; we don’t need to remember it by dictating where another religion chooses to build their place of worship.
Those kinds of remembrances are simply a way of rubbing salt in a wound, keeping it open and painful. It’s time we look for ways to help heal that pain.
It is a day that will live on in history indefinitely, in much the same way December 7, 1941 does. There are similarities in both days, Americans were attacked on their own soil. In both cases America must share a small part of the blame due to lack of vigilance, breakdowns in communication and a degree of complacency.
There are differences between these two days. In 1941 we were attacked by a foreign military; in 2001 the attack was carried out by a small group of radical civilians. In 1941 we responded by declaring war on Japan. In the aftermath of 9/11 we attacked a nation that was not directly involved in the attack.
In the aftermath of 12/7/194l there was a surge of anti Japanese sentiment, causing hundreds of Japanese American citizens to be incarcerated in compounds, simply because of their Japanese heritage. I think most Americans today would agree that was not one of our country’s finer moments.
Today, following 9/11, we direct our hate and fear at anyone who practices the Muslim religion. In my opinion we encourage this kind of hatred by loudly re-parading the pain that day caused every time the calendar circles around to the next September 11th.
Do we need to remember that day? Of course we do. We need to remember the mistakes that helped to allow it to happen. We need to remember the attack was carried out by a small group of individuals with the twisted idea that their way is the only right way. Even if you include all of Al Qaeda, it is still a small group of people in the grand scheme of things. No person, group or religion should ever be conceited enough to believe that their way is the only right way.
We don’t need to remember it by fanning the pain it produced; we don’t need to remember it by threatening to burn the Holy book of a religion we choose not to practice; we don’t need to remember it by dictating where another religion chooses to build their place of worship.
Those kinds of remembrances are simply a way of rubbing salt in a wound, keeping it open and painful. It’s time we look for ways to help heal that pain.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Special Delivery
“Aunt Julie, did dad tell you my news?”
“What news?”
“I’m pregnant!”
Sure you are,” Julie said and laughed.
“No really, I am.”
“Yeah, right,” Julie replied, still laughing
“I am,” said Kate and pulled out a pregnancy strip showing positive.
Julie looked to the other family members in the room, who nodded that Kate was indeed pregnant.
Kate laughed and said, “I knew no one would believe me. That’s why I kept the strip.”
“Well, then congratulations,” said Julie as she proceeded to take her coat to add to the pile of other coats and hats on the bed. Julie’s husband, Joe, followed, saying little, his usual M.O. when dealing with Julie’s chaotic family.
Last minute preparations for the family Easter dinner continued. Once the pandemonium of getting fourteen adults and four young children seated and served was complete, Julie asked, “So, Kate, is there a wedding date set?”
“No, me and my sperm donor are just focusing on the baby right now. We can figure that out later.”
Kate’s brother broke in saying, “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to rush into something like marriage just because a baby is on the way.”
Kate giggled and said, “Right. Anyway she won’t mind even if the wedding happens after she is here.”
“She?” Julie asked. “Isn’t it too early to know that?”
“Well, yeah, it’s not official but I think it’s a girl. Even though sperm donor here is rooting for a boy. And I want her to use my last name, so that will probably be easier if it’s a girl.”
Bill, the ‘sperm donor’, had remained quiet. “I wonder how he feels about being called a sperm donor” thought Julie.
There were usually two or three conversations going on simultaneously at any gathering of Julie’s family, the result being that any kind of meaningful conversation between two people was an exercise in futility.
A few weeks later, Kate came to the city for some shopping and had lunch with Julie. “Didn’t you tell me once that you never wanted to have children? What changed?”
“Well tequila played a part,” laughed Kate. “Seriously, I’m not sure I can answer that. You know I always felt that my unplanned arrival had played a part in my folks getting divorced. Now, I’m not so sure. Maybe I’m just growing up a little.”
“I’m glad to hear that’s not an issue with you any longer. Any wedding plans yet?”
“No, that’s not gonna happen. When the ultra sound showed a girl, he took off. I guess the only way he wanted to be a dad is if it was a boy.”
“I’m sorry. Are you OK with that?”
“For the most part I am, although I would have liked to have her grow up with a dad.”
A few months later at a baby shower, Kate announced she had decided on the name Natalia, but would call her Talli. As Julie was leaving the shower, saying goodbye to Kate, she asked, “Who is going to be with you when she’s born?”
“My friend Pam has been going to Lamaze classes with me and will be my coach.”
“That’s good. I’d love to be there when she arrives.”
“Well, if you’re serious, I’d love to have you there.”
“Really? Kate, I’d love that!”
One evening in mid-December Julie got the call that Kate was on her way to the hospital. Julie’s excitement mounted as she counted off the fifty miles to Kate’s small town. She could think of nothing greater than to be present as a child arrived. She’d experienced this only once, during her training to become a Registered Nurse. Her own children had arrived while she was in a drug induced never-never land. She stopped at the desk in the hospital and was directed to Kate’s room. When she arrived, she was surprised to see Kate’s mom, her sister Teri and friend Pam in the room. It had been more than thirty years since she had been in a labor or delivery room At that time it was uncommon for anyone but the father to be allowed into either the labor or delivery room. The five women spent the next few hours chatting and joking between Kate’s contractions. Finally it was time to go to the delivery room. Kate’s mom said, “Teri and I will wait in the lobby.” Teri tended to panic a bit at the sight of even a very small amount of blood, and she wasn’t ready to watch her sister be in any more pain. As they were transferring Kate from the bed to the gurney, Julie had another surprise. “You guys can bring your coats and purse and put them on chairs in the delivery room.”
“Do we need to put gowns on?” Julie asked.
“No, you’re fine just as you are.” As Julie and Pam trialed behind the gurney, she said to Pam, “I had no idea protocols had changed this much. This would never have been allowed when I was having babies or even when I was in nursing school.”
As they began to transfer Kate from the gurney to the delivery table, she panicked a bit and shouted, “Wait! Just wait. Let me catch my breath.” As she got on the delivery table another contraction began. The nurse put her hands lightly on Kate’s hips, and said,
“We need to get you moved down a bit.”
“Stop it! Don’t just grab me. Tell me what you want.”
As the contractions increased in frequency and intensity, Kate seemed to panic even more.
“Remember your breathing, Kate,” said Pam.
“I am! I’m trying,” Kate cried.
“I know you are. Just focus on your breathing.”
The nurse began a manual exam to check the progress. As soon as she touched Kate, she yelled, “Stop it! What are you doing?”
“We need to see how you are progressing.”
“Tell me what you’re going to do, don’t just grab me!”
The doctor arrived and gave Kate an epidural. It didn’t appear to be helping a lot, and Kate continued to complain loudly if anyone touched her. When the doctor announced that the head was crowning, Julie moved to the foot of the table and stood close to the doctor. As Talli’s head appeared, her eyes opened even before the delivery was complete. The next hour passed quickly as Talli was weighed, measured, cleaned, dressed and taken to Kate.
The highway was nearly deserted in the pre-dawn hour when Julie drove home. She felt a little giddy from the experience, but over riding that was an indescribable sense of awe at what she’d witnessed. In her mind she replayed over and over what she’d seen as Talli opened her eyes. “I felt like I was seeing more than a baby. It was as if this was a very wise being who was remembering the many times she’d been here before and pondering what this time would bring. I will never forget that picture. I’ve got to tell Kate about it sometime, and let her know what a gift she gave by allowing me to be there.”
“What news?”
“I’m pregnant!”
Sure you are,” Julie said and laughed.
“No really, I am.”
“Yeah, right,” Julie replied, still laughing
“I am,” said Kate and pulled out a pregnancy strip showing positive.
Julie looked to the other family members in the room, who nodded that Kate was indeed pregnant.
Kate laughed and said, “I knew no one would believe me. That’s why I kept the strip.”
“Well, then congratulations,” said Julie as she proceeded to take her coat to add to the pile of other coats and hats on the bed. Julie’s husband, Joe, followed, saying little, his usual M.O. when dealing with Julie’s chaotic family.
Last minute preparations for the family Easter dinner continued. Once the pandemonium of getting fourteen adults and four young children seated and served was complete, Julie asked, “So, Kate, is there a wedding date set?”
“No, me and my sperm donor are just focusing on the baby right now. We can figure that out later.”
Kate’s brother broke in saying, “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to rush into something like marriage just because a baby is on the way.”
Kate giggled and said, “Right. Anyway she won’t mind even if the wedding happens after she is here.”
“She?” Julie asked. “Isn’t it too early to know that?”
“Well, yeah, it’s not official but I think it’s a girl. Even though sperm donor here is rooting for a boy. And I want her to use my last name, so that will probably be easier if it’s a girl.”
Bill, the ‘sperm donor’, had remained quiet. “I wonder how he feels about being called a sperm donor” thought Julie.
There were usually two or three conversations going on simultaneously at any gathering of Julie’s family, the result being that any kind of meaningful conversation between two people was an exercise in futility.
A few weeks later, Kate came to the city for some shopping and had lunch with Julie. “Didn’t you tell me once that you never wanted to have children? What changed?”
“Well tequila played a part,” laughed Kate. “Seriously, I’m not sure I can answer that. You know I always felt that my unplanned arrival had played a part in my folks getting divorced. Now, I’m not so sure. Maybe I’m just growing up a little.”
“I’m glad to hear that’s not an issue with you any longer. Any wedding plans yet?”
“No, that’s not gonna happen. When the ultra sound showed a girl, he took off. I guess the only way he wanted to be a dad is if it was a boy.”
“I’m sorry. Are you OK with that?”
“For the most part I am, although I would have liked to have her grow up with a dad.”
A few months later at a baby shower, Kate announced she had decided on the name Natalia, but would call her Talli. As Julie was leaving the shower, saying goodbye to Kate, she asked, “Who is going to be with you when she’s born?”
“My friend Pam has been going to Lamaze classes with me and will be my coach.”
“That’s good. I’d love to be there when she arrives.”
“Well, if you’re serious, I’d love to have you there.”
“Really? Kate, I’d love that!”
One evening in mid-December Julie got the call that Kate was on her way to the hospital. Julie’s excitement mounted as she counted off the fifty miles to Kate’s small town. She could think of nothing greater than to be present as a child arrived. She’d experienced this only once, during her training to become a Registered Nurse. Her own children had arrived while she was in a drug induced never-never land. She stopped at the desk in the hospital and was directed to Kate’s room. When she arrived, she was surprised to see Kate’s mom, her sister Teri and friend Pam in the room. It had been more than thirty years since she had been in a labor or delivery room At that time it was uncommon for anyone but the father to be allowed into either the labor or delivery room. The five women spent the next few hours chatting and joking between Kate’s contractions. Finally it was time to go to the delivery room. Kate’s mom said, “Teri and I will wait in the lobby.” Teri tended to panic a bit at the sight of even a very small amount of blood, and she wasn’t ready to watch her sister be in any more pain. As they were transferring Kate from the bed to the gurney, Julie had another surprise. “You guys can bring your coats and purse and put them on chairs in the delivery room.”
“Do we need to put gowns on?” Julie asked.
“No, you’re fine just as you are.” As Julie and Pam trialed behind the gurney, she said to Pam, “I had no idea protocols had changed this much. This would never have been allowed when I was having babies or even when I was in nursing school.”
As they began to transfer Kate from the gurney to the delivery table, she panicked a bit and shouted, “Wait! Just wait. Let me catch my breath.” As she got on the delivery table another contraction began. The nurse put her hands lightly on Kate’s hips, and said,
“We need to get you moved down a bit.”
“Stop it! Don’t just grab me. Tell me what you want.”
As the contractions increased in frequency and intensity, Kate seemed to panic even more.
“Remember your breathing, Kate,” said Pam.
“I am! I’m trying,” Kate cried.
“I know you are. Just focus on your breathing.”
The nurse began a manual exam to check the progress. As soon as she touched Kate, she yelled, “Stop it! What are you doing?”
“We need to see how you are progressing.”
“Tell me what you’re going to do, don’t just grab me!”
The doctor arrived and gave Kate an epidural. It didn’t appear to be helping a lot, and Kate continued to complain loudly if anyone touched her. When the doctor announced that the head was crowning, Julie moved to the foot of the table and stood close to the doctor. As Talli’s head appeared, her eyes opened even before the delivery was complete. The next hour passed quickly as Talli was weighed, measured, cleaned, dressed and taken to Kate.
The highway was nearly deserted in the pre-dawn hour when Julie drove home. She felt a little giddy from the experience, but over riding that was an indescribable sense of awe at what she’d witnessed. In her mind she replayed over and over what she’d seen as Talli opened her eyes. “I felt like I was seeing more than a baby. It was as if this was a very wise being who was remembering the many times she’d been here before and pondering what this time would bring. I will never forget that picture. I’ve got to tell Kate about it sometime, and let her know what a gift she gave by allowing me to be there.”
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Writing contest...PS
If you don't have a Pay Pal account, you can also submit your entry fee using our website: www.vierdammen.com
Friday, August 13, 2010
Writing contest
My writers group, Vier Dammen, is sponsoring a writing contest. The topic is to be Omaha. We are looking for unique and engaging stories of fiction,essays or poetry that tell about an Omaha that many people don't know exists. We want to hear what makes it special, and what makes it special to YOU. Entry deadline is November 15,2010. First and second place prizes will be awarded in the poetry section and in the fiction/essay section. Please limit essays or fiction to 1500 words. Poetry can be of any length. One essay or piece of fiction per submission, poetry submissions may have 3-5 poems as one submission. Entry fee is $10.00 payable via Pay Pal. Contact lmteal@yahoo.com, using your own Pay Pal account to send your fee.
The dollar amount of prizes will be determined by the number of entries we receive.
Submit all entries to vierdammen@gmail.com. Please include your name, address, phone number, email address, date and word count in the header of your entry. Entries will not be returned.
Those who have been members of Vier Dammen prior to July, 2010 will not be eligible.
The dollar amount of prizes will be determined by the number of entries we receive.
Submit all entries to vierdammen@gmail.com. Please include your name, address, phone number, email address, date and word count in the header of your entry. Entries will not be returned.
Those who have been members of Vier Dammen prior to July, 2010 will not be eligible.
Friday, July 2, 2010
My Favorite Quote
I've entered this in a contest on SearchWarp.com. If you like it, you can go to SearchWarp to read it. The winner is chosen by the number of people who read the submission.
MY FAVORITE QUOTE
There are so many good quotes to choose from; quotes that express wisdom or offer succinct advice, quotes that use humor to make a point. There are quotes from philosophers such as Plato, or quotes from legendary statesmen like Abraham Lincoln. There are also quotes from American folklore heroes such as Will Rogers. Sometimes even Bible verses are used as quotes.
I’ve always admired Mark Twain’s droll sense of humor and his talent for pointing out our sometimes misguided sense of right and wrong.
“Under certain circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.”
Mark Twain
Now, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not advocating use of profanity in every other sentence you speak, or constant use of the F bomb. Although now and then…never mind, I digress a bit.
My point is that a well placed and judiciously used expletive can speak volumes as well as provide a harmless way to let off steam.
MY FAVORITE QUOTE
There are so many good quotes to choose from; quotes that express wisdom or offer succinct advice, quotes that use humor to make a point. There are quotes from philosophers such as Plato, or quotes from legendary statesmen like Abraham Lincoln. There are also quotes from American folklore heroes such as Will Rogers. Sometimes even Bible verses are used as quotes.
I’ve always admired Mark Twain’s droll sense of humor and his talent for pointing out our sometimes misguided sense of right and wrong.
“Under certain circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.”
Mark Twain
Now, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not advocating use of profanity in every other sentence you speak, or constant use of the F bomb. Although now and then…never mind, I digress a bit.
My point is that a well placed and judiciously used expletive can speak volumes as well as provide a harmless way to let off steam.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
news
My son, Kevin, has started his own business. He has been making cabinets, and many other home decor projects as a hobby for a few years, and has now gone into this full time. Please check out his website, http://www.castleworkskc.com/ and pass it on to anyone you think might be interested. He is in the Kansas City area, but doesn't necessarily limit himself to working only there.
Monday, May 24, 2010
What If The Mayans Are Right?
We’ve all heard the predictions; the Mayan calendar ends at 2012. Some speculate that this means the world as we know it ends then. Some believe the writings of Nostradamus and the Hopi Indians indicate the same thing.
In the past year or two we have seen a significant increase in severe weather. Hurricanes seem to be increasing in number and severity. As have earthquakes and volcano eruptions. Weather patterns in general have been more severe; floods, tsunamis, droughts. In addition we’ve seen world wide financial chaos and now an underwater volcano of oil devastating both nature and man. It’s enough to cause even hardened skeptics to pause now and then.
So, what if the Mayans were right? What should we do about it? What CAN we do about it?
We could take a purely selfish attitude and begin to live as if there is no tomorrow. Max out all your credit cards, engage in whatever risky behavior appeals to you, put forth as little effort as you can and still maintain your employment, cease all charitable donations…it isn’t going to matter anyway so you may as well enjoy the money or time you could donate.
Or, we could choose the other extreme; spend every possible moment in prayer and spiritual pursuits, plus do our best to convince others to do the same. Prayer is always a good thing, but it needs to be accompanied by moving hands and feet.
I have no idea if 2012 will bring the end of our world or not. Even if I was sure that it will, I wouldn’t recommend either of the above extremes.
The bottom line here is that no one is guaranteed tomorrow. Life for any one of us could end in an instant, much as we like to pretend that isn’t true. I don’t see this as a reason for despair. Since today, or even this moment, is all any of us have, then the only logical thing to do is make the most of it. Do whatever you can to brighten your day and the day of all those you come in contact with. Do whatever you can, in big or small ways, to make the world a better place.
The Mayans may not be right, and even if they are, why not make the remaining time as positive as possible? Worry and fear have never produced any kind of positive change. All they do is drain your energy, and make your world a darker place.
In the past year or two we have seen a significant increase in severe weather. Hurricanes seem to be increasing in number and severity. As have earthquakes and volcano eruptions. Weather patterns in general have been more severe; floods, tsunamis, droughts. In addition we’ve seen world wide financial chaos and now an underwater volcano of oil devastating both nature and man. It’s enough to cause even hardened skeptics to pause now and then.
So, what if the Mayans were right? What should we do about it? What CAN we do about it?
We could take a purely selfish attitude and begin to live as if there is no tomorrow. Max out all your credit cards, engage in whatever risky behavior appeals to you, put forth as little effort as you can and still maintain your employment, cease all charitable donations…it isn’t going to matter anyway so you may as well enjoy the money or time you could donate.
Or, we could choose the other extreme; spend every possible moment in prayer and spiritual pursuits, plus do our best to convince others to do the same. Prayer is always a good thing, but it needs to be accompanied by moving hands and feet.
I have no idea if 2012 will bring the end of our world or not. Even if I was sure that it will, I wouldn’t recommend either of the above extremes.
The bottom line here is that no one is guaranteed tomorrow. Life for any one of us could end in an instant, much as we like to pretend that isn’t true. I don’t see this as a reason for despair. Since today, or even this moment, is all any of us have, then the only logical thing to do is make the most of it. Do whatever you can to brighten your day and the day of all those you come in contact with. Do whatever you can, in big or small ways, to make the world a better place.
The Mayans may not be right, and even if they are, why not make the remaining time as positive as possible? Worry and fear have never produced any kind of positive change. All they do is drain your energy, and make your world a darker place.
Monday, March 29, 2010
book signing
Hi everyone,
I'll be attending a book fair in Los Angeles on April 24, 25, and doing a one hour book signing there sometime that weekend. Haven't got my time confirmed yet. If you're in the neighborhood, stop by to say hi.
I'll be attending a book fair in Los Angeles on April 24, 25, and doing a one hour book signing there sometime that weekend. Haven't got my time confirmed yet. If you're in the neighborhood, stop by to say hi.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
BE AFRAID, BE VERY AFRAID
The title is intended to be the “hook” to get you to read this. Why would I choose that? Because it seems to me that many, very many, of us have become addicted to fear. 9/11/2001 kicked it into high gear, but it was there even before that. Some of the biggest money making films are based almost entirely on fear; horror movies, alien invasions, violence of many kinds. TV programs have adopted this same idea. Many shows are based on criminal acts of one kind or another. Then there are the “reality” shows. They focus on fear of failure: being voted out by your companions, coming in last in the race, getting fired, or risking pubic humiliation on stage by judges.
Maybe you consider all this merely entertainment. I disagree. Fear is one of the most contagious things in our world. Not only contagious, but virulent. It allows us to find someone or something to hate. Not only allows, but encourages. If your hate and fear is justified, then you are justified in using violence toward what or who you hate and fear. It also allows you to stroke your ego, convincing yourself that you are “better than” what it is you hate or fear.
Fear is a powerful tool that can be used by those who have an agenda they want to promote. It’s been said that frightened people are not thinking people; if you can make someone scared enough, you can make them do or believe anything. When we allow ourselves to immediately buy into whatever fear is being promoted, we become pawns, unconscious pawns that have no idea we are being used. This kind of fear mongering allows us to believe our fears are valid without ever having to rationally examine them.
Are there things in this world that a rational person should be afraid of? Of course there are, but not enough to justify wrapping yourself in a permanent cloak of fear. That kind of pervasive fear produces goblins and enemies when in fact they are not there. It also allows us to withhold compassion from anyone not in our immediate circle of comfort.
The next time you hear someone warning you of the dire consequences if _______ happens, take time to do some investigating and evaluating. Don’t simply accept that what they are saying is true.
The next time you find yourself worrying about something, (because worry is itself a form of fear) stop and think about it. How likely is it that what you are worrying about will happen? What can you do about it, at this moment? What can you do about it without resorting to violence, either physical or verbal?
Last, but definitely not least, find positive things to focus on. There are multiple opportunities every day to notice the positive. Start small if you need to. “It’s a beautiful, sunny day.” Set yourself a goal of finding X number of things every day that are positive. With a little practice, I think you’ll find it easy to move from the small things to the larger positive things in life.
Will all this magically make the bad things in the world disappear? Of course not. It will eliminate many of the irrational fears and produce more rational ways of dealing with the valid fears.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
my website
For a while now my website has been 'down' for renovation. It's now back up and running, thanks to my brother, Chuck. Check it out at www.strinz.com/healing
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Politics
I've been thinking about the current political climate in Washington, D.C. and the country in general. (not really a fun topic!) I find it very disheartening that we seem to be so polarized. Without any exception that I'm aware of, Republicans seem to be unanimously against anything that is suggested by the Democrats. Democrats are only slightly better. The 'trickle down' theory seems to be working in this regard. In my observation, most Americans have adopted this same stance, which really boils down to an "I'm right, you're wrong" way of thinking. No idea or opinion is ever completely right or completely wrong.
We all need to step away from this idea, and away from our feeling that trying to change anything in Washington D.C. is hopeless. Difficult, yes; hopeless, no. The place to start is by examining your own mind set; start noticing what parts of an opposing view might just have some merit. Then begin to demand of our representatives that they do the same. Let them know we are tired of fancy (mostly canned) speeches; we need to see some independent thinking and action. Words and ideas have no meaning unless they are accompanied by action.
We all need to step away from this idea, and away from our feeling that trying to change anything in Washington D.C. is hopeless. Difficult, yes; hopeless, no. The place to start is by examining your own mind set; start noticing what parts of an opposing view might just have some merit. Then begin to demand of our representatives that they do the same. Let them know we are tired of fancy (mostly canned) speeches; we need to see some independent thinking and action. Words and ideas have no meaning unless they are accompanied by action.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Love Stories
Last week my writing group decided we should each write a love story, in honor of Valentine's Day. This is my contribution.
LOVE STORIES: A COLLAGE
The assignment is to write a love story. There are so many love stories that could be written, so many kinds of love, so many misinterpretations of love. So, here is my offering; a collection of snapshots of love. A small sample from a shoebox full of snapshots of love.
Snapshot #1
It had been a very bad day for her. She was in her last semester of nursing college, pursuing a long held dream, in spite of having a husband and three small children. That day the Director of Nursing had informed her that she would not be allowed to graduate because there was no record that she had ever met the prerequisite of high school chemistry.
She had only been home from school a few minutes when the phone rang. It was her husband, making his usual call to her shortly before heading home from the office. It was his way of testing the water to find out what he might be dealing with when he arrived home.
“Hi hon, how did your day go?”
“It was effin goddamned terrible! That bitch, Barentson isn’t going to let me graduate because some damned lamebrain somewhere has lost my record of taking high school chemistry. I’ve been there two years, and six weeks before graduation she decides I’ve never had chemistry! The senile old bat won’t believe I turned those records in when I applied. Just because she wasn’t Director of Nursing at that time, she basically accused me of lying about it. I swear to god, I’m gonna hire a hit man!”
By this time she was sobbing and screaming. When she stopped to take a breath, she realized he had hung up on her. This had the effect of a slap in the face, pulling her out of her hysteria. She was taking a deep breath, trying to calm down, when the phone rang again.
“I’m sorry I hung up on you honey, but you were so loud, they could hear you all the way down the hall.”
Snapshot # 2
Mike’s cat had been sick, constantly sneezing and coughing. The vet had prescribed some antibiotics, which helped for a few days, and then the symptoms recurred. Another trip to the vet, plus several lab tests revealed it was more than a simple virus. It was feline leukemia. His only recommendation was a blood transfusion, something that would do no more than extend Henry’s life for a short time. It was two days before Christmas. Mike was holding Henry and crying. The transfusion would be expensive. His dad hesitated only a few minutes before calling to make arrangements for the transfusion. He later told his wife, “I’m not going to let his cat die on Christmas.”
The transfusion seemed to work wonders…for about two weeks. Then Henry became sick again and quite lethargic. Another transfusion was discussed. Mike said no. By now he had accepted that Henry was not going to live. He had also learned that there was no feline blood bank. For a transfusion to occur, another cat had to sacrifice it’s life. His soft heart just couldn’t allow that.
Henry died quietly a few days later, with Mike by his side.
Snapshot #3
“Kathy and Warren sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
“Shut UP!”
“All right kids, that’s enough. Get up to the table, it’s time for supper.”
When they were all seated, Kathy’s mom asked, “So who is this
“He’s a boy in the sixth grade, and he likes me.” Kathy was in fourth grade.
“Is that right?” her dad asked. “How do you know that?”
“Because when we were all coming in from recess the other day,
Snapshot #4
Judy was admitted to the alcohol treatment center due to a court order. During her initial interview with the staff, she went to great lengths to explain the only reason she was here was because her daughter had gotten her committed.
“I occasionally use a little valium and will have a glass of wine now and then. I raised two kids on my own by working six days a week in my own hair salon. But, just because I need to relax now and then with a glass or two of wine, or sometimes need some valium to sleep, she’s decided I’m an alcoholic.”
The lab tests that were done as a routine part of treatment told a different story, indicating a fair amount of liver damage.
She continued to complain about her daughter, and how ‘uppity’ she had become since getting a degree in social work.
“I should have left her on her own like I was instead of handing everything to her on a silver platter.”
Judy never admitted to having a problem during her month long stay, and refused to allow her daughter to visit. “She can see me when she admits she was wrong, and apologizes to me.”
Snapshot #5
Matt had spent the afternoon playing at the house of a schoolmate who lived two blocks away. It was a beautiful day in late May. When Matt returned home he began talking about all the neat toys Bobby had. An electric train, an elaborate Hot Wheels set up, and Nintendo.
“So, did you play in the house all afternoon?” his mom asked.
“Yeah, Bobby’s mom wouldn’t let him go outside because it was too hot.”
“Really?” his mom replied. The temperature was 78 that afternoon.
Matt and Bobby were in second grade. Matt walked to school every day unless the weather was really bad. Even though Bobby lived two blocks closer to school, his mother wouldn’t allow him to walk to school. He was also not allowed to go play at anyone else’s house, or be outside if it was over 75 or under 70.
When the boys were in fifth grade, Bobby’s mom called Matt’s mom to ask if Matt could stop on his way to school, so Bobby could walk with him
“He really wants to walk to school, but I don’t want him walking alone.”
Friday, January 8, 2010
GROWING ROSES
Many people will tell you they don’t grow roses because of the amount of work involved. I haven’t found that to be true. With a minimum of time and effort roses will provide you with blooms every two to three weeks from spring until early fall, often right up until the first frost.
PLANTING
I’ve found it pays to buy roses from a reputable nursery rather than the less expensive ones you find at large chain stores. Bare root roses are less expensive than those already potted and blooming.
Place the bare root rose in a bucket of water as soon as you bring them home. They will be fine for several days until you can plant them. Dig a hole deep enough so the graft is about one inch below ground level. This is the little knob at the base of the bush, just above the beginning of the roots. Dig a wide enough hole so you can easily spread the roots out. Water thoroughly.
SUMMER MAINTENANCE
Roses are heavy feeders and will need a good fertilizer. Apply early in the spring, and then monthly. Unless you live where winter temperatures never drop below freezing, stop fertilizing in August to allow the rose to begin to rest for the winter.
They also need lots of water; about one inch a week. It’s best to water them at ground level rather than using sprinkler. This will help avoid the fungal infection known as black spot. A soaker hose is ideal for this, but if you don’t have one, simply place the hose at the base of the bush and allow to run for five to ten minutes on each bush.
You will want to keep your rose bed free of weeds. I like to mulch my rose bed with grass clippings. This saves on the amount of weeding I need to do plus helps to preserve the ground moisture. It’s best to avoid using grass clippings for the first mowing or two after an herbicide has been applied to your lawn. Wood chips are also an option for mulching. I just don’t like working with them myself.
Clip off the rose hips once the flower has finished blooming and lost its petals. This will encourage further blooming.
DISEASE AND PESTS
Aphids and black spot are two of the main enemies of roses. An application of a herbicide and a fungicide about once a week will solve this problem. I like to buy liquid concentrate and mix it in a sprinkling can. This avoids any problems with drift on a windy day, and more thoroughly soaks the leaves.
WINTER CARE
After the first frost you will need to cut your bush back to about twelve inches and cover well with the leaves and the grass clippings you’ve used to mulch them during the summer. There are foam rose cones sold to place over the bush for winter protection, but I haven’t found them to be all that effective. In the spring, remove the blanket of leaves and mulch once the danger of freezing temperatures is past.
BOUQUETS
I love having a bouquet of roses on my table. I cut them either early in the morning or in the evening; place them in a container of water up to their necks for an hour or so, or overnight before arranging them in a vase. I find the blooms will last several days by doing this.
For those who would like roses in the garden without all this work, a good option is a variety known as Knock Out Roses. They are extremely hardy and disease resistant and bloom continuously all season. They are not ideal to use as cut flowers as their stems are generally rather short, but do make an impressive display in your yard.
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