I talked with Piper for over two hours today. I needed to talk with someone, and he was a good choice. He has an incredible grasp of people, and from him I could get a male point of view.
He helped me to feel better. He almost convinced me that whatever happens, it will be the best for me.
Almost. I'm still trembling.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Friday, June 16, 2006
741 Friday, Tired
I am very tired today. I did 45 minutes on the treadmill, but that's not why - mostly it's the emotional treadmill I've been on. My body feels like there's a vibrator in my chest, my hands tremble. I've been losing weight slowly, about 5 pounds a month, and I seemed to be at a plateau recently, but since last Saturday I've lost five fast ones. I think all the trembling has been burning up calories. That plus the fact that I don't feel like eating (But don't worry, I do. Just what I've forced myself to eat this week has been all "good stuff". No yummies.)
I'll go into why someday, probably, but not yet. There's a "situation" going on, and I don't want to mention it until it seems resolved. It's nothing terrible in the great scheme of things, nothing to worry about. Daughter might even be happy about it. Damn her.
It's now 7:30 pm-ish, and I think I might go to bed.
Tomorrow I'll have "coffee" (tea for me) with Piper (mostly a social meeting), and in the evening I plan to go to a dance show in New Paltz (I'll see the Gypsy there, and possibly the Pixie, I hope). Sunday I might go to the Clearwater Festival (http://www.clearwater.org/festival.html). Maybe. If I think it's worth the effort.
Blah.
I'll go into why someday, probably, but not yet. There's a "situation" going on, and I don't want to mention it until it seems resolved. It's nothing terrible in the great scheme of things, nothing to worry about. Daughter might even be happy about it. Damn her.
It's now 7:30 pm-ish, and I think I might go to bed.
Tomorrow I'll have "coffee" (tea for me) with Piper (mostly a social meeting), and in the evening I plan to go to a dance show in New Paltz (I'll see the Gypsy there, and possibly the Pixie, I hope). Sunday I might go to the Clearwater Festival (http://www.clearwater.org/festival.html). Maybe. If I think it's worth the effort.
Blah.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
740 Highway Sign
Post #739 has been skipped. I spent much time composing the post this afternoon, then I went to the Third Thursday dinner, and sat next to Roman. We talked after dinner, and much has happened. Shit has hit fans. Blogger doesn't have a facility to make posts private, so it will have to live as a draft for now, until I know where this is going.
In the meantime, folks on AOL and especially those who left AOL will appreciate this:
In the meantime, folks on AOL and especially those who left AOL will appreciate this:
738 Left Hip
Thursday, 06/15/06
Ignore. This is just a note to myself, so if a doctor asks "When did it start?" I can look it up and answer.
Left hip has been waking me early since Monday morning. No pain during the day, no pain sitting, standing, walking, or when I first lie down, but enough pain in the morning to wake me. This is the hip that was dislocated throughout my twenties. (Oddly, it's also the one that gets scanned during bone density tests, and no one ever mentioned any signs of arthritis.)
Ignore. This is just a note to myself, so if a doctor asks "When did it start?" I can look it up and answer.
Left hip has been waking me early since Monday morning. No pain during the day, no pain sitting, standing, walking, or when I first lie down, but enough pain in the morning to wake me. This is the hip that was dislocated throughout my twenties. (Oddly, it's also the one that gets scanned during bone density tests, and no one ever mentioned any signs of arthritis.)
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
737 Wednesday, 06/14/06
Next week's TV Guide arrived today, and Daniel Dae Kim of "Lost" is on the cover. He finally made their "sexiest men" list. Back when I was watching "Lost", I was annoyed that the rags raved about the other guys on that show, but not Kim. I have always thought he was the sexiest. ('Cept he has a major flaw - he's not furry.)
Today:
Today:
- Feeling better in the body. Only major pain left is a knot in my back below the shoulder blades - next to where I had the ruptured disk. Probably from slumping the past few days. I really HAVE to sit and stand straight or my back attacks me!
- A new concern, however, the base of the index and middle toes on my right foot are numb. Noticed it this morning in the shower. Probably a pinched nerve.
- Went to grocery store for water, bought $85 worth of stuff, but forgot the water.
- Did 1/2 hour on the treadmill (1.4 miles - yeah, that's slow, but I'm not after aerobics. For burning calories, distance, not speed, matters), stopped because I didn't want to stress the questionable foot.
- Went to my favorite clothing store for a "private" 50% off sale. I really don't want to buy more clothes, but I'm running out of pants because what I had been wearing are size large or medium, and I'm into size small now. The mediums look baggy, and the large won't even stay up any more. Naturally, nothing that fit me was on sale, but I bought some size small pants anyway.
- Trying on pants from the closet this evening, getting rid of the too big ones, making trash/sell/donate/keep piles. The "sell" pile is the biggest. Would you believe some of the pants in there date from the 70s? And fully half of what I'm throwing away I sewed, as opposed to bought.
- Planning to go to bed early.
736 Paris Is Full of Frenchmen for a Reason
Read this: http://herlocksholmes.blogspot.com/2006/06/blogging-from-paris.html, from Herlock Sholmes. Funny, with too much sad truth.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
735 Tuesday, 6/13
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Brief memory booster - ignore.
Brief memory booster - ignore.
- Tore apart the desk and kitchen, and the file cabinet in the den, frantically searching for the estimated tax forms, due 6/15. They weren't in the folder they were supposed to be in ("To Pay"). I finally found them in the "2006 Taxes" folder (Duh), which at this point is supposed to contain only receipts and check stubs
- Tried on more clothes, packed up some things that are too large
- Ironed bits of yesterday's laundry
- Worked at the Maritime Museum, 4 hours plus travel, locating and scanning paid supporter ads for their yearly money-maker brochure
- Read some blogs
- Wanted to do treadmill and machines, but I hurt. I really hurt. It started Sunday, with my knees. Yesterday I felt like I'd done an uphill marathon, and then was badly beaten at the end. You know how your arm hurts after a flu shot? That's what it feels like, mostly all over my thighs and upper arms, and the "belt" of muscle around my waist. They are actually tender. (No, I take no prescription meds, so it's not a drug reaction.) I'm walking all bent over, like an ancient crone. My stomach is queasy. Saturday night I had fallen asleep reading and woke an hour later with a crick in my neck, and a terrible headache. I took aspirin but couldn't get back to sleep, so I got one hour's sleep that night. It's entirely possible that all this pain is from a pinched/confused nerve in my neck. Or maybe fibromyalgia is tied to the emotions?
- Worked some crossword puzzles
- Weighed me. I am now at 134, down from 172 last August. Slow loss. Oh, well, gives the skin time to shrink. Don't want a saggy baggy look. Current goal is 120. If I ever get there, I might drop it to 115, depending on what I look like. Don't want to get stringy.
734 Monday, 6/12
Monday, June 12, 2006
Brief memory booster - ignore.
Brief memory booster - ignore.
- Paid bills
- Washed dishes
- Read a bunch of blogs
- Laundry, 6 loads - washer is now making a funny whooshing noise when it spins, and dryer takes forever to dry stuff. I wonder if there's a bird nest in the exhaust tube again
- Bank run, deposit checks, get cash
- $53 worth of gas in van
- Grocery store for water
- Undertook major search for Dannon coffee yogurt - sold out everywhere
- Mailed bills and some stuff to daughter
Monday, June 12, 2006
733 Mystery at the Mall
[Later edit - by "the Kingston mall" I mean the big mall near Kingston, i.e., the Hudson Valley Mall, not the "Kingston Mall". I forgot there's actually a strip mall with that name on the other side of town.]
There was a murder at the Kingston mall about a week ago. A woman was killed in the kitchen of a restaurant, where she was working alone. Or something. I'm not up on the details. Murderer still at large, but the police say they have leads.
Saturday night I passed the mall on my way home, a little before midnight. There were police cars with flashing lights all alone the street, and more patrol cars blocking all the entrances and exits. They were not allowing cars in, and were stopping cars coming out, looking inside them with flashlights. (I didn't think Ulster had that many police cars!) The mall closed at about 9 pm, I think, so the cars must have been coming out from the last show at the theater.
I'm curious. I knew there would be nothing in the Sunday paper, so I was waiting for today's paper to find out what was going on.
No mention. Nothing. Anybody else know anything?
There was a murder at the Kingston mall about a week ago. A woman was killed in the kitchen of a restaurant, where she was working alone. Or something. I'm not up on the details. Murderer still at large, but the police say they have leads.
Saturday night I passed the mall on my way home, a little before midnight. There were police cars with flashing lights all alone the street, and more patrol cars blocking all the entrances and exits. They were not allowing cars in, and were stopping cars coming out, looking inside them with flashlights. (I didn't think Ulster had that many police cars!) The mall closed at about 9 pm, I think, so the cars must have been coming out from the last show at the theater.
I'm curious. I knew there would be nothing in the Sunday paper, so I was waiting for today's paper to find out what was going on.
No mention. Nothing. Anybody else know anything?
Sunday, June 11, 2006
732 Moonlight Madness
I went to NJKC's Moonlight Madness last night. May was there. Festivities were supposed to start at 7:30 pm. May arrived at 7:30 am. She got am and pm mixed up. As expected, everyone made fun of her when she wasn't in the room.
When it got late, I was concerned about her driving home. She has no night vision, and she'd been drinking champagne all evening. As expected, everyone else was totally unconcerned. "Well, if she's all over the road, the cops will stop her. Besides, she won't accept help."
I was emotionally drained from a discussion on a different topic earlier in the evening, and wanted to leave early, but I stayed another two hours until May was ready to go, and then I followed her home, and peeled off when she got to her street.
I went to a computer show with Roman early this afternoon, and we talked. Really talked. For once he was completely honest with me. I am doubly emotionally drained now.
I'm going to take a hiatus from journaling for a while. Or maybe I'll just post the briefest list of "this is what I did today", for reminder purposes. I have a lot of work to do and a few things to think about, and, like May, I "won't accept help".
The kimono has closed.
When it got late, I was concerned about her driving home. She has no night vision, and she'd been drinking champagne all evening. As expected, everyone else was totally unconcerned. "Well, if she's all over the road, the cops will stop her. Besides, she won't accept help."
I was emotionally drained from a discussion on a different topic earlier in the evening, and wanted to leave early, but I stayed another two hours until May was ready to go, and then I followed her home, and peeled off when she got to her street.
I went to a computer show with Roman early this afternoon, and we talked. Really talked. For once he was completely honest with me. I am doubly emotionally drained now.
I'm going to take a hiatus from journaling for a while. Or maybe I'll just post the briefest list of "this is what I did today", for reminder purposes. I have a lot of work to do and a few things to think about, and, like May, I "won't accept help".
The kimono has closed.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
731 Football Frenzy
Saturday, June 10, 2006
I almost never willingly watch team sports. Unless I personally know some of the players, I find team sports incredibly boring.
Ten minutes of soccer has captured me. Believe it or not, until this morning, I had never in my life seen a soccer ball in motion.
Wow! This is good! I understand the excitement. Those guys MOVE! Run, run, run. The ball is all over the place. This is FOOTBALL. That American game should more properly be called muscleball, or bullball, or plodball. It's the difference between young goats and old cows. Moooo.
I'm enjoying it and I don't even know the rules. It looks sorta like civilized hockey, I guess. I had assumed that soccer players didn't throw each other around, but they seem to collide a lot, and the one on the receiving end of the collision gets thrown several feet like a rag doll, so it doesn't look like simple tripping, and the announcer uses the word "tackle", so I'll have to find out what the "tackle" rules are. And do the players end up with headaches from getting their necks jammed hitting the ball? That looks dangerous.
One problem I have is that there seem to be white birds flying over the field, or moths close to the camera, and at first I confused them with the ball. Sure made for a lot more activity....
It's very high energy, and not just on the field. I can see how and why the spectators get so het up. It's not simply passion for their teams. Watching the game energizes the watchers. The tension builds. I understand why there are riots after the game, even when "their" team wins. The spring has been wound too tightly and not released.
The organizers should take a cue from concert planners. Responsible concert program planners know that you start out with crowd favorites, move into a mix of new material, slowly build the excitement to a crescendo, and then, and this is the responsible part, you slow things down again. The last few minutes of the concert should be love and nostalgia. If you can get the audience hugging and swaying together and singing along, so much the better. Then you can let them go in peace.
That's why there were riots after the early rap concerts. The concert whipped the audience into a frenzy, didn't bring them back down, and then turned them loose at the height of their explosive potential. I don't know why people were surprised when the crowd exploded when they hit the street. The program planners were directly responsible, and they should have known better. It's not a mystery.
So I see why there may be riots after soccer, no matter who wins. The game builds energy in even the spectators, and whips it to the top in the last few minutes, and then it turns them loose on the streets and on each other. There's a lot of energy that needs to be released.
Maybe they should take a break in the middle of the game and require the spectators to have milk and cookies and take a nap. And then again a few minutes before the end. Or maybe the spectators should be required to link arms and sing and sway to "We Are the World" for a half hour before they can leave. Hand out teddy bears and balloons at the exits.
Purple teddy bears.
I almost never willingly watch team sports. Unless I personally know some of the players, I find team sports incredibly boring.
Ten minutes of soccer has captured me. Believe it or not, until this morning, I had never in my life seen a soccer ball in motion.
Wow! This is good! I understand the excitement. Those guys MOVE! Run, run, run. The ball is all over the place. This is FOOTBALL. That American game should more properly be called muscleball, or bullball, or plodball. It's the difference between young goats and old cows. Moooo.
I'm enjoying it and I don't even know the rules. It looks sorta like civilized hockey, I guess. I had assumed that soccer players didn't throw each other around, but they seem to collide a lot, and the one on the receiving end of the collision gets thrown several feet like a rag doll, so it doesn't look like simple tripping, and the announcer uses the word "tackle", so I'll have to find out what the "tackle" rules are. And do the players end up with headaches from getting their necks jammed hitting the ball? That looks dangerous.
One problem I have is that there seem to be white birds flying over the field, or moths close to the camera, and at first I confused them with the ball. Sure made for a lot more activity....
It's very high energy, and not just on the field. I can see how and why the spectators get so het up. It's not simply passion for their teams. Watching the game energizes the watchers. The tension builds. I understand why there are riots after the game, even when "their" team wins. The spring has been wound too tightly and not released.
The organizers should take a cue from concert planners. Responsible concert program planners know that you start out with crowd favorites, move into a mix of new material, slowly build the excitement to a crescendo, and then, and this is the responsible part, you slow things down again. The last few minutes of the concert should be love and nostalgia. If you can get the audience hugging and swaying together and singing along, so much the better. Then you can let them go in peace.
That's why there were riots after the early rap concerts. The concert whipped the audience into a frenzy, didn't bring them back down, and then turned them loose at the height of their explosive potential. I don't know why people were surprised when the crowd exploded when they hit the street. The program planners were directly responsible, and they should have known better. It's not a mystery.
So I see why there may be riots after soccer, no matter who wins. The game builds energy in even the spectators, and whips it to the top in the last few minutes, and then it turns them loose on the streets and on each other. There's a lot of energy that needs to be released.
Maybe they should take a break in the middle of the game and require the spectators to have milk and cookies and take a nap. And then again a few minutes before the end. Or maybe the spectators should be required to link arms and sing and sway to "We Are the World" for a half hour before they can leave. Hand out teddy bears and balloons at the exits.
Purple teddy bears.
Friday, June 09, 2006
730 May's Fading Roses
Friday, June 9, 2006
I talked with May Wednesday evening. She called me with a problem she had, wanting advice.
In the course of discussing her problem (what to do about a young family member of hers who she thinks is in trouble), I told her about my youngest sister, and how guilty I felt when she died. She was in serious trouble, and I knew it, and I tried to help, but she wouldn't accept any help. I was waiting for her to "hit bottom", but she up and died first. For years after, I felt so very guilty that I didn't just kidnap her and force help on her. That I didn't recognize that she WAS at bottom, and maybe all I had to do was insist. I was her big sister. I felt responsible.
That's all true, and I do still feel guilty, but the purpose of my telling May this was to get her to tell me how it wasn't my fault, and how if my sister wouldn't accept my help, there was nothing I could do, which she of course did. My purpose was to help May realize for herself that she could offer, but if the offer was rejected, she shouldn't feel guilty. People have their own fates to work out. Sometimes it's not so bad if you go into it with that thought. You do all you can. That's all you can do. You can't feel guilty if it's not enough.
And here I am in the situation again.
May's chief activity the past year and a half, since she finally settled her late husband's estate, has been planning the dispersal of her own (very large!) estate. They had no children, and she has been estranged from most of her siblings. When her husband was alive, they rarely socialized, rarely even left the house. Now she's all alone there, and except for legal and medical appointments, I doubt that she ever leaves the house or sees anyone other than the lawn people and the cleaning lady. She's a recluse.
I have invited her out a number of times, but she refuses. I've tried to suggest that she get involved in something - political action or support, something artsy-fartsy, philanthropy, volunteering, something to feel connected, but she tells me she doesn't need connecting. She has some amazing stories of life in the upper levels of The Company, and I have suggested that she write them down, maybe even write a book. But, she's not interested.
Wednesday evening, her voice was very slow and halting. She didn't sound good at all. Those of us who were her friends suspect that she drinks too much. She didn't seem drunk - didn't get maudlin as she does when she's had a bit too much. But I almost hope she was drunk when she called, because if she wasn't, that's even more worrisome. Like her clock is winding down.
Her old friends have pretty much stopped calling her, because, well, we don't know her drinking schedule. She calls them (us) sometimes, but the last few times her name came up at social events lately, I've been disturbed by the way they talk about her now. "Did she call you about...?" "Oh, God, yes. I couldn't get her off the phone!" "The same stories over and over...." "She called me at 3 am ..." I mention that I'm worried about her, and they say yes, but what can you do. And then they laugh, because her catchphrase is "Well, what can I say", and then she proceeds to say it, in --- a --- very --- slow --- halting --- voice. And she'll say the same thing several times.
I'm troubled because Wednesday evening, when I said I wanted to get her out into the world again, she responded that "The world would be better off if I stepped in front of a bus tomorrow." And during the hour conversation, she said several other things like that. I told her she needed something to make her feel useful, to grab her interest and use her talents, and she said she didn't want to feel useful.
I want to do something, but there doesn't seem to be anything I can do that won't piss her off. She sees a doctor regularly, and if he doesn't recognize a depression, or doesn't think it needs treating, she won't hear it from me.
I guess I have to just keep telling myself, "if the offer is rejected, you shouldn't feel guilty. People have their own fates to work out. You do all you can. That's all you can do. You can't feel guilty if it's not enough", and hope it sinks in this time.
Incidentally, May is only three years older than I am. Her talking as if her life is over scares me, on several levels.
I talked with May Wednesday evening. She called me with a problem she had, wanting advice.
In the course of discussing her problem (what to do about a young family member of hers who she thinks is in trouble), I told her about my youngest sister, and how guilty I felt when she died. She was in serious trouble, and I knew it, and I tried to help, but she wouldn't accept any help. I was waiting for her to "hit bottom", but she up and died first. For years after, I felt so very guilty that I didn't just kidnap her and force help on her. That I didn't recognize that she WAS at bottom, and maybe all I had to do was insist. I was her big sister. I felt responsible.
That's all true, and I do still feel guilty, but the purpose of my telling May this was to get her to tell me how it wasn't my fault, and how if my sister wouldn't accept my help, there was nothing I could do, which she of course did. My purpose was to help May realize for herself that she could offer, but if the offer was rejected, she shouldn't feel guilty. People have their own fates to work out. Sometimes it's not so bad if you go into it with that thought. You do all you can. That's all you can do. You can't feel guilty if it's not enough.
And here I am in the situation again.
May's chief activity the past year and a half, since she finally settled her late husband's estate, has been planning the dispersal of her own (very large!) estate. They had no children, and she has been estranged from most of her siblings. When her husband was alive, they rarely socialized, rarely even left the house. Now she's all alone there, and except for legal and medical appointments, I doubt that she ever leaves the house or sees anyone other than the lawn people and the cleaning lady. She's a recluse.
I have invited her out a number of times, but she refuses. I've tried to suggest that she get involved in something - political action or support, something artsy-fartsy, philanthropy, volunteering, something to feel connected, but she tells me she doesn't need connecting. She has some amazing stories of life in the upper levels of The Company, and I have suggested that she write them down, maybe even write a book. But, she's not interested.
Wednesday evening, her voice was very slow and halting. She didn't sound good at all. Those of us who were her friends suspect that she drinks too much. She didn't seem drunk - didn't get maudlin as she does when she's had a bit too much. But I almost hope she was drunk when she called, because if she wasn't, that's even more worrisome. Like her clock is winding down.
Her old friends have pretty much stopped calling her, because, well, we don't know her drinking schedule. She calls them (us) sometimes, but the last few times her name came up at social events lately, I've been disturbed by the way they talk about her now. "Did she call you about...?" "Oh, God, yes. I couldn't get her off the phone!" "The same stories over and over...." "She called me at 3 am ..." I mention that I'm worried about her, and they say yes, but what can you do. And then they laugh, because her catchphrase is "Well, what can I say", and then she proceeds to say it, in --- a --- very --- slow --- halting --- voice. And she'll say the same thing several times.
I'm troubled because Wednesday evening, when I said I wanted to get her out into the world again, she responded that "The world would be better off if I stepped in front of a bus tomorrow." And during the hour conversation, she said several other things like that. I told her she needed something to make her feel useful, to grab her interest and use her talents, and she said she didn't want to feel useful.
I want to do something, but there doesn't seem to be anything I can do that won't piss her off. She sees a doctor regularly, and if he doesn't recognize a depression, or doesn't think it needs treating, she won't hear it from me.
I guess I have to just keep telling myself, "if the offer is rejected, you shouldn't feel guilty. People have their own fates to work out. You do all you can. That's all you can do. You can't feel guilty if it's not enough", and hope it sinks in this time.
Incidentally, May is only three years older than I am. Her talking as if her life is over scares me, on several levels.
729 Warriors
Friday, June 9, 2006
I watched Once Were Warriors today. I found it a very powerful movie.
I don't much comment on movies. When I used to go to "message" movies with friends, they always wanted to discuss it afterward, over dinner or drinks. I'd mostly remain silent. If a movie had any meaning to me at all, I'd want to think about it for a while before expressing an opinion. If it had no meaning at all, why discuss it.
I also seldom recommend movies to friends, because I don't think what you get out of a viewing is necessarily universal. Meaning doesn't come from the movie - it comes from what you bring to it. A good movie will pull something out of you, force you to look at what is inside you in perhaps a different way. So my opinion would probably mean nothing to anyone else. (Beyond "Yeah, it's a good story/exciting/romantic/funny.")
"Once Were Warriors" affected me because of the subject matter. It was more powerful even than it should have been because the woman looked a lot like my mother. But my mother wasn't strong. She sacrificed us. Sometimes I don't know whether to love her, hate her, or feel sorry for her, and this movie didn't help with that confusion. She wasn't strong enough, but can I blame her for that?
The movie also reminded me of how much abuse the human body can take, and still keep ticking. You don't have to do much. It just fixes itself. The skin closes, the bruises fade, the bones knit. You learn to compensate for what doesn't work right any more.
The heart and mind, however, are much more fragile. Breaks sometimes never close, and you can't ignore the scars.
I watched Once Were Warriors today. I found it a very powerful movie.
I don't much comment on movies. When I used to go to "message" movies with friends, they always wanted to discuss it afterward, over dinner or drinks. I'd mostly remain silent. If a movie had any meaning to me at all, I'd want to think about it for a while before expressing an opinion. If it had no meaning at all, why discuss it.
I also seldom recommend movies to friends, because I don't think what you get out of a viewing is necessarily universal. Meaning doesn't come from the movie - it comes from what you bring to it. A good movie will pull something out of you, force you to look at what is inside you in perhaps a different way. So my opinion would probably mean nothing to anyone else. (Beyond "Yeah, it's a good story/exciting/romantic/funny.")
"Once Were Warriors" affected me because of the subject matter. It was more powerful even than it should have been because the woman looked a lot like my mother. But my mother wasn't strong. She sacrificed us. Sometimes I don't know whether to love her, hate her, or feel sorry for her, and this movie didn't help with that confusion. She wasn't strong enough, but can I blame her for that?
The movie also reminded me of how much abuse the human body can take, and still keep ticking. You don't have to do much. It just fixes itself. The skin closes, the bruises fade, the bones knit. You learn to compensate for what doesn't work right any more.
The heart and mind, however, are much more fragile. Breaks sometimes never close, and you can't ignore the scars.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
728 Kids Are Fun
Thursday, June 8, 2006
I'm on the volunteer group's SWAT team, which means they can call me in when they need emergency help. I got a call to "help out" at a picnic, held this morning and early afternoon at a riverfront park. One of the Kingston schools matches fourth graders with elderly pen pals, as a writing exercise, and for socialization. This picnic is for the kids and elders to finally meet (end of the school year, end of the exercise).
A few of the elderly pen pals were unable to attend the picnic, so I was asked to act as a substitute pen pal. Actually, when I was first called, I thought I'd be "working" there, like cooking hot dogs or organizing games or something. When I discovered I was going to be paired with a kid for the day, I wasn't all that enthusiastic.
Fifty fourth graders, and about as many senior adults (about a third with walkers). The "program" was mainly ecology. We were going to clean up the beach, and hike to a stream, and take and test water samples from the stream and the river.
My kid was a tall (taller than me) strawberry blond 10-year-old girl (who is going to be a heartbreaker in a few years), who was plainly disappointed that her real pen pal hadn't come, but eventually we got along just fine.
Well, it was high tide, so there wasn't much to do on the beach. Any crud was under water. I heard that at low tide they can collect everything from bits of plastic to truck tires.
We hiked up along the river a ways (fifty kids, the three ecology folks, the two teachers, a very few seniors, and me) 'til we got to the stream. Just upstream from where the path crossed on a little footbridge there was a 2-level waterfall, and sitting on the middle ledge was the biggest danged snapping turtle I've ever seen alive.
I was interested in the turtle, of course, but I was surprised at how much joy I took in watching the kids react to the turtle. It was great. They all crowded on the little bridge, leaning over the railing. Their comments were priceless. Not so much what they said, but the way they said it.
Later, on the beach, one of the boys found a huge dead eel. The kids all crowded around, and it was funny how a kid would push to the inner ring of the crowd, someone would poke the eel with a stick, and the kid would scream and push their way out. The crowd was roiling with kids pushing in, screaming, and pushing back out. Then a girl managed to get a sturdy stick under it and lift it up to toss it in the river, and the whole ring screamed and widened out.
The beach looked nice, all groomed sand and all, but none of the beaches along this section of the Hudson can be trod barefoot, because they are all full of water chestnut seed pods, which are pretty, but very nasty. The photo at the link (scroll down to it) shows the four sharp "horns", but what it doesn't show is that each of those four horns starts out tipped with a barbed spine. If one of those barbs sticks into you, it doesn't come out without cutting. I was amused that the kids called the nuts "cow's heads" (from the side, they do look bovine), "devil's heads", and the one I liked best, "devil's eggs".
There was an open grassy area where the kids played whiffle ball and kick ball, with a pole fence bordering a steep overgrown drop-off down to the river. They were playing kickball, and the ball sailed over the fence and down the bank. (If the ball went into the river, it would be gone forever.) Naturally, there was an immediate surge of kids to the fence, all of them, and a few of the boys went right over the fence and started down the bank. I happened to be the only adult there, and I yelled "Everybody this side of the fence! Now!" and I was absolutely amazed when the boys immediately reversed and came back. Good kids! The ecology guy (a college student) went down for the ball, which had been stopped at the edge of the water by a drift-log.
So, I had a good time. I'd forgotten how much fun a herd of good kids can be.
Going to play Trivia tonight with Tom.
I'm on the volunteer group's SWAT team, which means they can call me in when they need emergency help. I got a call to "help out" at a picnic, held this morning and early afternoon at a riverfront park. One of the Kingston schools matches fourth graders with elderly pen pals, as a writing exercise, and for socialization. This picnic is for the kids and elders to finally meet (end of the school year, end of the exercise).
A few of the elderly pen pals were unable to attend the picnic, so I was asked to act as a substitute pen pal. Actually, when I was first called, I thought I'd be "working" there, like cooking hot dogs or organizing games or something. When I discovered I was going to be paired with a kid for the day, I wasn't all that enthusiastic.
Fifty fourth graders, and about as many senior adults (about a third with walkers). The "program" was mainly ecology. We were going to clean up the beach, and hike to a stream, and take and test water samples from the stream and the river.
My kid was a tall (taller than me) strawberry blond 10-year-old girl (who is going to be a heartbreaker in a few years), who was plainly disappointed that her real pen pal hadn't come, but eventually we got along just fine.
Well, it was high tide, so there wasn't much to do on the beach. Any crud was under water. I heard that at low tide they can collect everything from bits of plastic to truck tires.
We hiked up along the river a ways (fifty kids, the three ecology folks, the two teachers, a very few seniors, and me) 'til we got to the stream. Just upstream from where the path crossed on a little footbridge there was a 2-level waterfall, and sitting on the middle ledge was the biggest danged snapping turtle I've ever seen alive.
I was interested in the turtle, of course, but I was surprised at how much joy I took in watching the kids react to the turtle. It was great. They all crowded on the little bridge, leaning over the railing. Their comments were priceless. Not so much what they said, but the way they said it.
Later, on the beach, one of the boys found a huge dead eel. The kids all crowded around, and it was funny how a kid would push to the inner ring of the crowd, someone would poke the eel with a stick, and the kid would scream and push their way out. The crowd was roiling with kids pushing in, screaming, and pushing back out. Then a girl managed to get a sturdy stick under it and lift it up to toss it in the river, and the whole ring screamed and widened out.
The beach looked nice, all groomed sand and all, but none of the beaches along this section of the Hudson can be trod barefoot, because they are all full of water chestnut seed pods, which are pretty, but very nasty. The photo at the link (scroll down to it) shows the four sharp "horns", but what it doesn't show is that each of those four horns starts out tipped with a barbed spine. If one of those barbs sticks into you, it doesn't come out without cutting. I was amused that the kids called the nuts "cow's heads" (from the side, they do look bovine), "devil's heads", and the one I liked best, "devil's eggs".
There was an open grassy area where the kids played whiffle ball and kick ball, with a pole fence bordering a steep overgrown drop-off down to the river. They were playing kickball, and the ball sailed over the fence and down the bank. (If the ball went into the river, it would be gone forever.) Naturally, there was an immediate surge of kids to the fence, all of them, and a few of the boys went right over the fence and started down the bank. I happened to be the only adult there, and I yelled "Everybody this side of the fence! Now!" and I was absolutely amazed when the boys immediately reversed and came back. Good kids! The ecology guy (a college student) went down for the ball, which had been stopped at the edge of the water by a drift-log.
So, I had a good time. I'd forgotten how much fun a herd of good kids can be.
Going to play Trivia tonight with Tom.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
727 And It's All His Fault!
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
[Later edit - I had to redo this because many of the links were wrong - Lance Link got into everything!]
I called Roman this afternoon and told him that he has ruined my life, destroyed my schedule, caused my bills to remain unpaid, and delayed the cleaning of my house. It's all his fault!
After he installed my DVD player and left last night, I handled some email and futzed around on the internet a bit, and then I started playing with the DVD player. I watched Stomp Out Loud, and then watched Koyaanisqatsi, which had been highly recommended by Roman and by RossoRaven (here).
I must confess I didn't get as much out of Koyaanisqatsi as either of them did, because I was sitting too close to a large screen, and parts of it made me seasick. Plus there are all these people running around in late 70's clothing and hair, and I REMEMBER! that - oh good lord, how ugly we were then. What were we thinking! Anyway, I was fascinated by that (younger folk won't have the same "oh my God, I actually WORE that!) But, even with all my distractions, I did get the point. Even more than some might, because I hate crowds, I hate hurrying and rushing, I want peace. I'll watch it again from a bit of a distance, once I'm over the fashion shock.
Anyway, all of a sudden it was 4 am. I got to sleep a little after 5 am. Piper woke me with a phone call at 11 am. Having told Piper my player was working, I then had to watch the movie Piper had been urging me to see, Under the Tuscan Sun, followed by The Bridge, which I remembered from 20 years ago and have been anxious to see again ever since I bought the DVD last year (do follow the Bridge link and read the online reviews at the bottom).
And that's when I called Roman and cursed him out. He laughed at me.
I've got several seasons of Lancelot Link and Red Dwarf, Whale Rider and Once Were Warriors, some bellydance performances, and the follow-on to Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi, and ... I may be in serious trouble here.
[Later edit - I had to redo this because many of the links were wrong - Lance Link got into everything!]
I called Roman this afternoon and told him that he has ruined my life, destroyed my schedule, caused my bills to remain unpaid, and delayed the cleaning of my house. It's all his fault!
After he installed my DVD player and left last night, I handled some email and futzed around on the internet a bit, and then I started playing with the DVD player. I watched Stomp Out Loud, and then watched Koyaanisqatsi, which had been highly recommended by Roman and by RossoRaven (here).
I must confess I didn't get as much out of Koyaanisqatsi as either of them did, because I was sitting too close to a large screen, and parts of it made me seasick. Plus there are all these people running around in late 70's clothing and hair, and I REMEMBER! that - oh good lord, how ugly we were then. What were we thinking! Anyway, I was fascinated by that (younger folk won't have the same "oh my God, I actually WORE that!) But, even with all my distractions, I did get the point. Even more than some might, because I hate crowds, I hate hurrying and rushing, I want peace. I'll watch it again from a bit of a distance, once I'm over the fashion shock.
Anyway, all of a sudden it was 4 am. I got to sleep a little after 5 am. Piper woke me with a phone call at 11 am. Having told Piper my player was working, I then had to watch the movie Piper had been urging me to see, Under the Tuscan Sun, followed by The Bridge, which I remembered from 20 years ago and have been anxious to see again ever since I bought the DVD last year (do follow the Bridge link and read the online reviews at the bottom).
And that's when I called Roman and cursed him out. He laughed at me.
I've got several seasons of Lancelot Link and Red Dwarf, Whale Rider and Once Were Warriors, some bellydance performances, and the follow-on to Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi, and ... I may be in serious trouble here.
726 Time to Move On, Folks
On the subject of the current rash of 9/11 movies, Israeli blogger Lisa (On The Face) says "Would it be hugely insensitive of me to ask Americans, nearly five years after 9/11, to please get over it already? Really, I think it's time. There have been many disasters all over the world - of both the natural and the terrorist variety - since then, and the ability to feel empathy is truly more admirable than perpetual navel gazing." [Italics mine - I really liked that part.]
I strongly agree.
It's a bit paranoid to think this, but I can't help wondering if there's a purpose to these movies coming out now beyond the simple "it's long enough ago that we can tell the story without hurting people" that we are offered. Frankly, that explanation doesn't hold water. I can't help wondering if there isn't another reason, like to keep the feelings alive, to remind us, to counteract growing anti-war sentiment, so the Bush administration can keep beating the drums of fear.
I strongly agree.
It's a bit paranoid to think this, but I can't help wondering if there's a purpose to these movies coming out now beyond the simple "it's long enough ago that we can tell the story without hurting people" that we are offered. Frankly, that explanation doesn't hold water. I can't help wondering if there isn't another reason, like to keep the feelings alive, to remind us, to counteract growing anti-war sentiment, so the Bush administration can keep beating the drums of fear.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
725 06/06/06, a Nice Day
My take on "666" as "the number of the beast" is here, a post from last April.
Roman was teaching a class in Kingston last evening, so we had a diner dinner together before his class. He was going to come here on Wednesday to finish setting up my DVD player and "whatever else I needed him for", but he called early this afternoon - he wouldn't be able to make it Wednesday, so could he come today? In about an hour and a half?
Aaaagh! The house was a worse mess than the last time he was here because I've been pulling things out of closets, and I was filthy from lugging stuff down to the basement all morning, but I said ok. Quick shower, quick trip to the grocery store so I could feed him, clean clothes but no time for makeup, and he arrived about 4 pm during a phone call from Daughter.
I enlisted his help to pound stakes into the ground along the newly marked property line, and then he read to me from a book he had brought, while I was putting dinner together (and of course nothing came out right, sigh, I'll never master cooking...) and we talked about bunches of stuff, then he finished hooking up the DVD player and taught me how to use it, and left about 9:30ish.
It was nice.
I'm sorry, world, but I really do like him.
Roman was teaching a class in Kingston last evening, so we had a diner dinner together before his class. He was going to come here on Wednesday to finish setting up my DVD player and "whatever else I needed him for", but he called early this afternoon - he wouldn't be able to make it Wednesday, so could he come today? In about an hour and a half?
Aaaagh! The house was a worse mess than the last time he was here because I've been pulling things out of closets, and I was filthy from lugging stuff down to the basement all morning, but I said ok. Quick shower, quick trip to the grocery store so I could feed him, clean clothes but no time for makeup, and he arrived about 4 pm during a phone call from Daughter.
I enlisted his help to pound stakes into the ground along the newly marked property line, and then he read to me from a book he had brought, while I was putting dinner together (and of course nothing came out right, sigh, I'll never master cooking...) and we talked about bunches of stuff, then he finished hooking up the DVD player and taught me how to use it, and left about 9:30ish.
It was nice.
I'm sorry, world, but I really do like him.
724 Not The Cat - Phooey!
Well, it wasn't The Cat. Tsk. He had the same head shape, and accent, and did The Cat's celebratory pirouette perfectly - rocked back on the heels and everything - so perfectly that I heard The Cat's "eeeeeee-yow!" during it.
But it wasn't The Cat. In a comment on my post, RossoRaven said "The Cat is alive and well and still acting, but, he wasn't in Ocean's 11. His name is Danny John-Jules."
So I undertook a major search and located my Red Dwarf DVDs to verify that we were both talking about the same original Cat, and sure 'nuff The Cat was played by Danny John-Jules. Then I searched out 2001's Ocean's Eleven cast list, and Basher Tarr, the explosives expert, was played by Don Cheadle. (He was also the lead in Hotel Rwanda.)
Well, I'm disappointed, but I'm still happy that The Cat is alive and well and still acting.
But it wasn't The Cat. In a comment on my post, RossoRaven said "The Cat is alive and well and still acting, but, he wasn't in Ocean's 11. His name is Danny John-Jules."
So I undertook a major search and located my Red Dwarf DVDs to verify that we were both talking about the same original Cat, and sure 'nuff The Cat was played by Danny John-Jules. Then I searched out 2001's Ocean's Eleven cast list, and Basher Tarr, the explosives expert, was played by Don Cheadle. (He was also the lead in Hotel Rwanda.)
Well, I'm disappointed, but I'm still happy that The Cat is alive and well and still acting.
Monday, June 05, 2006
723 Intimi - Dating Redux
Well, I did watch the credits at the end of "Ocean's Eleven", and they listed the actors alphabetically, so I don't know if it was The Cat or not. But I'm pretty sure, and it pleases me to think so, so I shall.
I got a comment on 722 Intimi - Dating? that led me to see things more from the male point of view. The comment and my response:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
quiet and comfort, softness, no challenge. Someone who will say "Yes, Dear" all the time.
He's even said that, that he is "more comfortable" with the other woman than with me. I thought at the time that he was referring to the way I rake him over the coals every so often for his duplicity. I've told him that she's all sweetness and light because she doesn't know what's going on, and I'm thunder and lightning because I do, and it's unfair for him to compare us when she doesn't know.
But that isn't it at all.
He recently told me that she's "not a candidate for Mensa" (his words), that she's not too bright. This in response to my saying I didn't understand how she could accept his lies, how she hadn't already figured out something was going on, I mean there are clues everywhere.
So there it is. He prefers her because she's not too bright. That makes her "comfortable". No challenge.
The fool. He doesn't realize that all his complaints about his previous wife have to do with her stupidity and lack of common sense. He chooses stupid women because they are comfortable, and then when he lives with them, their stupidity eventually drives him crazy. Someday he'll see it for himself, but...
I can't wait that long.
Which is very sad, because we really are extremely well matched. I find him more intelligent than I, because he has attributes I lack, and the key is that I am smart enough to fully appreciate his intelligence, and will continue to do so. His usual choices in women eventually find him merely exacting, demanding, and annoying. Which I'm sure he's not yet with her, because he's still in the "comfortable" stage.
But just wait until she allows him to move in with her. And he gets bored and frustrated.
I can't wait that long.
Crap!
I got a comment on 722 Intimi - Dating? that led me to see things more from the male point of view. The comment and my response:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
quiet and comfort, softness, no challenge. Someone who will say "Yes, Dear" all the time.
He's even said that, that he is "more comfortable" with the other woman than with me. I thought at the time that he was referring to the way I rake him over the coals every so often for his duplicity. I've told him that she's all sweetness and light because she doesn't know what's going on, and I'm thunder and lightning because I do, and it's unfair for him to compare us when she doesn't know.
But that isn't it at all.
He recently told me that she's "not a candidate for Mensa" (his words), that she's not too bright. This in response to my saying I didn't understand how she could accept his lies, how she hadn't already figured out something was going on, I mean there are clues everywhere.
So there it is. He prefers her because she's not too bright. That makes her "comfortable". No challenge.
The fool. He doesn't realize that all his complaints about his previous wife have to do with her stupidity and lack of common sense. He chooses stupid women because they are comfortable, and then when he lives with them, their stupidity eventually drives him crazy. Someday he'll see it for himself, but...
I can't wait that long.
Which is very sad, because we really are extremely well matched. I find him more intelligent than I, because he has attributes I lack, and the key is that I am smart enough to fully appreciate his intelligence, and will continue to do so. His usual choices in women eventually find him merely exacting, demanding, and annoying. Which I'm sure he's not yet with her, because he's still in the "comfortable" stage.
But just wait until she allows him to move in with her. And he gets bored and frustrated.
I can't wait that long.
Crap!
Sunday, June 04, 2006
722 Is That The Cat?
The movie "Ocean's Eleven" is on TV right now. I happened to glance up, and I saw some men sitting against a wall, waiting for a vault door to blow open. The camera focused on a black guy - the explosives expert I suspect, and I thought "He looks familiar."
The vault door blew open, and the black guy walked up to it --- and did The Cat's pirouette! And then he spoke, and that sealed it. I recognized the voice. I think it's The Cat from "Red Dwarf"!
Of course he's a lot older now, and I'm not certain, but if it is him I'm glad to see he's well and doing well. I'll have to watch the credits and see if I can catch the name. (They run movie credits so tiny and so fast on TV - I find that annoying.)
The vault door blew open, and the black guy walked up to it --- and did The Cat's pirouette! And then he spoke, and that sealed it. I recognized the voice. I think it's The Cat from "Red Dwarf"!
Of course he's a lot older now, and I'm not certain, but if it is him I'm glad to see he's well and doing well. I'll have to watch the credits and see if I can catch the name. (They run movie credits so tiny and so fast on TV - I find that annoying.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
"Bad. Everything you say seems to have meaning. I'm not used to that."
Hum... either a mentally retarded moron or he has been dating mentally retarded morons... what kind of talk is that?
If a woman is not smarter than me, why would I want to be with her?
Ah. Yes. But these are American men, who tend to be unsure of themselves to begin with, 58 to 63 years of age and beginning to feel it, who have been through a recent traumatic divorce, and who are probably therefore lacking in self-confidence. I think all they want now is quiet and comfort, softness, no challenge. Someone who will say "Yes, Dear" all the time.
I can provide all that. But I guess they can't see past the ... whatever it is I exude.