nillamilkshake

Car left at a used car lot.

I am experiencing some problems with my blood sugar lately.  Cerulean, is that the proper terminology?  I have seen a doctor and will have more lab work done in May.  I am hoping for some ideas on portable snacks that travel well.  Here are a few that I have come up with so far. 

A hand full of almonds in zip lock baggies. 
String cheese...does not travel very well in a car for long periods of time. 
Edamame, also not a great traveler but there is a lot in my fridge right now. 
Peanut butter on whole wheat crackers.  Usually a good traveler but the temperature was 98 degrees here yesterday. 
Small cans of V8 juice. 

Please add to my list if you can help.  I would rather keep the items lower in fat but that is not my single priority right now.

Sunflower,                                                               

I remember 8 years ago on the day you were born.  I was so happy to see you.  It was one of the best, if not the best, days of my life.  I hope in the future you will see it as one of the best days of your life also.  It was also one of the worst days of my life because I had to see my girl child cut open in an extremely unsentimental manner.  Didn't they know that was my baby lying on the table with the huge slice across her abdomen?  All I could do was catch the nutrients her poor little body was rejecting and try to reassure her the only way I knew.

 I was supposed to get your opening day photos but I was not familiar with my new camera.  Fortunately, your dad managed to get a film of your debut and I love it!  I dislike looking at your poor mommy but I adore the entrance you made to this planet. 

I have a few gifts for you and your brothers (yes, one here and one not here yet).  We will figure out how to get them to you.  You already know about the money in your bank account because we went there on Jacob's birthday with the money from my piggy bank.  I believe you already know I love you whether I give you gifts or not but I did not want to let this day go by without doing everything within my power to wish you happy birthday.  I will keep my cell on when I am not in the doctor's offices so hopefully you can reach me after school.

Forever your,

Nana

Dear young scared daughter,


Please allow me to list a few observations:

1. The "dumb shit" you refer to is a picture of the contents of the trash can at the green house tour I went to last week. 

2. I have no control over your assumptions or perspectives. 

3. I appreciate your help in changing my focus on life and for the beauty you showed me how to find. 

4. I have been able to take the tools you so generously provided me to help Marcia see the beauty in her own back yard. I appreciate your knowledge regarding diet.

5. Okay, I now see there are too many things I appreciate about you to list in an e-mail.

Now let me try to tell you some things I do not appreciate.

1. Seeking words of comfort from me when you are afraid.  I clearly do not possess the right words so nothing I have to offer is comforting for you.  I found this out the first day I met you :)

2. Assuming I want to hurt you.  I have spent my entire life trying to shield you from hurt, and while I admit I was not effective, that does not change my intent.

3. Your verbal assaults.  It hurts me to the core and I don't claim to have any idea what it does to your husband and children.  Ask them.

You are the one who taught me if I change my perspective I will change the picture I am looking at.  Look in your own box of tricks to find the answers to the things that cause you fear and pain.  While I wish I posessed that for you; I clearly do not.

Let me know through Ron or the kids when you are ready to play nicely and I will make arrangements with you on where and when we can meet.  I will not be reading any more of your emails because when you send this kind it really does feel and seem like I have stepped in the middle of a pile of shit, which is never a pleasant experience.

In the mean time I am trying to keep my own ship from sinking and trying to figure out ways to let people know I love them when I am no longer walking this planet.  You stewed almost all day the last Sunday your family was here because you thought Ron and I were forming an alliance against you. The truth is I am forming an alliance for you.  Along with those that love you and see your beauty I will form an alliance to protect you, and your young, as much as I can in my pathetic little way.  If I find out the cost of that alliance is your dignity or Lillian's perception regarding herself then I think I may hate those people even more than you.


I love you my little hormonal daughter.  Tell Elliott (if that is still his name) I love him too.  I look forward to seeing all of you soon.

xxxooo,

mommy
aka "the observer"

I have been thinking about reincarnation lately but the point that stumps me is why I would want to come back here again.  I am thinking that if I have been reincarnated perhaps the idea of a life or the perspective of an individual's life might be quite different.    Maybe it doesn't have to boil down to coming back just to learn what we need to learn so we can go on to a better place.   Maybe we are just watching the choices of those who are close to us.

Maybe we see those we love in something that resembles a fun pool party.  Could we look in and think, "Oh, that looks like fun!  I want to go do that too!"?

At that point we may not consider having to get out of the pool, showering the chlorine from our hair, putting on clothing over damp skin, shivering from the chill from leaving the warm water.  Or maybe the whole life in the grand scheme of things is really quite short.  While we are here living it may seem like a long time but to a person who has done this for thousands of years we would have a different view of the time.   Remember when we were young and the days before Christmas dragged out forever yet as an adult it comes at us at a frightening speed?

Just wondering.

I was talking to my granddaughter, Lillian, when they were here last weekend and she asked about my neighbor, Tom.  I told her he was still sick and she was very concerned because he was ill for so long. The next day I gave her some sunflower seeds that came from a plant that grew wild in the back yard last summer and dried over the winter.  It was important to her to give Tom's wife, Marcia, some of the seeds.  She carefully counted out ten seeds and we put them in a plastic bag and wrote with a marker, "To: Marcia  From: Lillian".

We walked next door and knocked but Marcia didn't answer so we left the seeds next to her kitchen door.  Later that night Tom passed away.  Despite the CPR Marcia administered, the efforts of the paramedics, and the kindness of the hospital workers he did not make it.  Marcia had to make that lonely drive back home alone.  She was married to Tom for 48 years.  Marcia knew she wouldn't sleep so she went outside early the following morning and found the seeds Lillian left her.  She planted them and I have no doubt her tears helped water them.  She was so touched by this gift and by Lillian's thoughtfulness. How did this little girl know the best gift for this gardener would be seeds she could plant to look forward to the future?

God bless Lillian and God bless Marcia. God, bless us all.

I usually get my Advair disks through mail order and I get a 3 month supply at a time.  I mistakenly thought I had one more disk left but realized I did not and I needed a new prescription as our mail order company changed at the first of the year.  I sent a letter to my dr requesting 2 scrips, one I could get filled locally and one for mail order that had refills.  I included a SASE and the dr usually sends the scrip within a couple of days.  I also included my phone number if there were any problems.  One week went by and I am completely out of this medication.  I called the office this morning, they took my phone number and the pharmacy I use but by 4 in the afternoon I still had no answer and I could hardly breath.  The rescue inhalers were not effective and the nebulizer treatment I used at lunch time was short lived.  I left work at 4 so I could go to the dr's office in person.  They tried to blow it off but when I told them I can hardly breath a nurse took my name and went to the back office.  She came back in a couple of minutes with a 1 month scrip but said my dr. is out of town and his partner could not write mail order scrips.  This dr. has access to my medical records and drug fiends do not normally seek out Advair so I don't understand.   If I didn't call or come in would they just set my letter aside until my primary physician came back.  Why can't the other dr in his office, who has also treated me, write a mail order prescription?  I have a PPO not an HMO but I guess it could still be a money thing.  Does anyone have any insight I have missed?

Happy Birthday Jacob!!!

Another  person from work had their spouse die this past Sunday.  End stage cancer that was discovered 6 weeks ago but that doesn't make it any better.  I went to pay my rent and found my landlord/neighbor/friend is no longer on the road to recovery.  His wife just shakes her head and says the dr wants him to go to UCLA...not a good sign.  I left their house in tears and cursing death.  Why the hell is it we have to leave this earth suffering and in pain?   Why do we have to leave those we love shattered and damaged?  FUCK DEATH!!!   There ought to be a better way.

I was on my way home from work but needed to stop by the local store for the basics.  I am making healthier food choices and with that  interest I saw some recipe cards  in the produce department.  One of the recipes looked really good but required jicama which they didn't have at the time.  The kid in the produce dept told me it is seasonal but that didn't make a lot of sense; I secretly wonder if he is related to Jeremy.   I bought the other things I needed and decided to try the store northwest of my house.  Alas, they too were out of jicama.  Fortunately, they did have Asian pears which are similar in texture but a bit sweeter so I went home jicamaless but happy.  I live in a rural area without street lights and coming from the west it is easy to miss the driveway to my house in the dark, which I did.  At first I thought I would turn at the end of my street and then I thought I would drive past my friend's house one street away.  As luck would have it Kim just pulled into her driveway and her car was stopped so she could feed her horses.  I wanted to call out to her but I hesitated.  She just buried her husband last Saturday and I was afraid I might upset her.   I idled in front of her house for a minute debating with myself and then sadly drove off.  When I got home I noticed the motion sensor light on my front porch was on and I proceeded with caution.  I do not fear a human but I don't want to roll into my dark garage with a neighboring skunk or opossum thinking an automatic garage door opening must be  some sign from God to come in out of the cold.  Seeing no critters I went on in and thought no more about it until the next day.

The next day I ran into Kim and she made a comment about the top I was wearing.  She asked me if that was the top I was air drying on the hanger on the wine rack in my living room.  That comment scared the hell out of me...how did she know that?  It turns out she was feeling down and lonely that evening so she brought some tea over hoping I would share a cup with her.   She looked through my living room window and said it looked so warm and inviting she even tried the front door to see if it was open.  She left and I ended up following her home without realizing it.  She was the one who turned on my porch light.  I hope she comes over again and I hope I am home to greet her.

Moral of story?  Keep jicama at home. I never know when I might need it ; )

Jeremy is a young kind of chubby nerdy guy who started as a bagger at my local grocery store while he was still in high school.  He continued to work there after he graduated and moved up in ranks to a checker.  He used to drive me crazy because whenever other teenagers were near, either as coworkers or customers, Jeremy would act like it was homecoming day.  One evening after a crappy day I reluctantly stopped by the store to get a couple of items I needed even though I just wanted to go home.  Sure enough I ended up at Jeremy's register and I braced myself.  I just had a few items on the conveyer belt but Jeremy turned his back on me when it was my turn to have my items checked.  He was chatting with the young man bagging groceries and I got hot.  I told him he needed to do his job and chat with his coworker on his break. He tried to justify his actions but the other weary shoppers behind me backed me up on this.  He did not apologize and it made my blood boil. 

At the end of our transaction I headed straight to the manager and reported his behavior.  I told the manager I was sure I was not the only customer annoyed by Jeremy's immaturity and he assured me there had been several complaints.  I saw Jeremy look over at us and I could tell by his reaction he was probably very close to losing his job.  I didn't feel bad at the time because, by God, I was right!

Fast forward at least one year... I stopped in that same store and once again found myself in Jeremy's line.  He was quiet and polite.  There was something a little tragic about the whole thing.  It was as if he has lost his spirit and now he is just a checker at the local store.  I felt bad for Jeremy.  I don't think my complaint caused Jeremy to grow up and act like an adult but I feel bad for having any part in it.

I'm sorry Jeremy

A pretty young woman came into my office today.  She told me she just got back from a three month trip and wanted us to start up the service we stopped while she was gone.  As I looked at her I saw a large scar intersected her face.  It started at her left temple then crossed her face in a slant stopping at her right ear.  I also noticed the shape of her right eye did not match her left and immediately I thought she was once in a car accident.   As I took down the information I needed, I chatted with her and asked where she went for three months.  She told me she went to see her family in Europe, the first time in eight years.  I asked her where she in Europe and she told me Kosovo.  This is when it clicked in my mind that the scars I saw may not have anything to do with a car.  She told me it took two hours at the airport for them just to print their tickets because noone was certain what and where Kosovo is.  (Is it a country?  A city?)  I told her we had recently had similar problems with shipments to Kosovo so I understood the confusion.

She went on to tell me her story:  The Serbs destroyed their home and many of their neighbors homes so they fled to the hills for shelter and hopefully safety.  Unfortunately NATO troops suspected the people in the mountains to be Serbian militants so they sent bombs their way.  This girl was nineteen and her twelve year old brother were both hit with "friendly fire".  She and her brother were airlifted out to a military hospital and then sent on to the states where an older brother lived.  In the last eight years between the two of them they have had more than 25 surgeries.  She has one more to go and will never regain sight in the one eye.

This young woman has lost her country, her identity, her home, her health, contact with her family for a number of years, a future she dreamed of as a girl and yet she is still a kind and compassionate person.  I am glad she finally got to go home again, even if it was for a short time.

Thank you, Lutiana

http://www.dedge.com/flash/hangman/

http://www.postalmuseum.si.edu/activity/challenge/index.html

I want this for Christmas!


http://www.mensup.fr/usbwine/

The artist who painted this (Rick Griffin) was a neighbor and friend of ours in Orange County.  Rick and his wife, Ida, gave us a bunch of baby stuff such as a bassinet, bathtub, and clothing.   Both my girls slept in that bassinet.  

FEBRUARY 1968 - THE FLYING EYEBALL [SIGNED LITHOGRAPH]

Women in several countries, including Australia, have begun sending their underpants to Burma embassies in a culturally insulting gesture of protest against the recent brutal crackdown. “It’s an extremely strong message in Burmese and in all Southeast Asian culture,” said Liz Hilton, who supports an activist group that launched the “Panties for Peace” drive earlier this week.

The group, Lanna Action for Burma, says the country’s superstitious generals, especially junta leader General Than Shwe, also believe that contact with women’s underwear saps them of power, even if the panties are clean & laundered.

To widespread international condemnation, the military in Burma crushed mass anti-regime demonstrations recently and continues to hunt down and imprison those who took part.

Hilton said women in Thailand, Australia, Singapore, England and other European countries had started sending or delivering their underwear to Burma missions following informal coordination among activist organisations and individuals.

“You can post, deliver or fling your panties at the closest Burmese Embassy any day from today. Send early, send often!” the Lanna Action for Burma website urges.

“So far we have had no response from Burmese officials,” Hilton said today.

"The Balinese don't let their children touch the ground for the first six months of  life, because newborn babies are considered to be gods sent straight from heaven, and you wouldn't let a god crawl around on the floor with all the toenail clippings and cigarette butts.  So Balinese babies are carried around for the first six months, revered as minor deities."

--from-- Eat, Pray, Love
             Elizabeth Gilbert