Random quotations

Dragon Mood? -- restless

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"Creativity -- the power to connect the seemingly unconnected."
--William Plomer (1903-1973), South African-British man of letters

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"I like nonsense -- it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living. It's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope...and that enables you to laugh at all of life's realities."
— Theodor S. Geisel, a.k.a. "Dr. Seuss"

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"Friendship is like money, easier made than kept."
— Samuel Butler

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"Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless."
— Mother Teresa

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"The world is so empty if one thinks only of mountains, rivers and cities; but to know someone here and there who thinks and feels with us, and though distant, is close to us in spirit --- this makes the earth for us an inhabited garden."
— Johann von Goethe

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"A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway."
— Fr. Jerome Cummings

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Albert H. Rebsch, circa 1914

Here is a photo that I actually discovered online . . . and it includes my Grandpa Rebsch, my mother's father. While I never met him (he died in August, 1950, about 2-1/2 years before my birth), I have heard stories about him all my life. He is the young man standing at the far left. I presume that this was taken around Port Arthur or Houston, Texas, and as the title indicates, the year was 1914. And you know, I don't recall what his middle initial, "H" stood for.
Posted by Hello

Recapping my typical week

Dragon Mood? -- tired remembering it all

Monday evening included a delightful surprise. I drove in the driveway, hailed my cross-the-street neighbors, Jan and Tom, and they invited me to dinner. We drank some red wine sitting out on their porch, smelled the yummy smells coming from the kitchen and talked and laughed. We had a delicious boiled dinner (melt-in-your-mouth corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes).

Tuesday evening I spent the first half alone, anticipating spending the second half alone, as well. But surprise(!), S showed up at 8:50 p.m.,bags and laundry and computer in tow. She was out mowing our little postage stamp-size lawn by 9 (bless her little lawn-mowing heart!), done by 9:25 and together, we sat in our crummy little sand chairs on the driveway, drinking a beer, watching the light slip from the sky and listened to the quiet night sounds deep within the city. Those are the present moments that stay with me and I treasure!

Wednesday night was a whirl of activity as I drove back to Okemos for a hair appointment, picked up mail, did some banking, scooted through Meijer's for a five-minute shopping spree, drove to the Perry house, showered and freshened up, and finally joined Jeanne, Joanne and Kevin for pizza, salad, martoonis AND birthday cake at their house. The excitement was hearing about J & J's trip out west (and their new rings!) and the sadness was that S was caught in her class in Warren and was unable to join us. :-( We caught up with each other for five minutes at the Perry house, with a quick kiss and then I was off, back to the big city. Talk about ships passing in the night!

Thursday evening was quiet with reading, walking the dog and snoozing in the padded plastic Adirondack chair. Oh yes, and laundry! Lots of laundry. Sadly, I totally forgot about the weekly "night on the town" events that our little community has on Thursday evenings! Damn! I hate missing out!

And now it's Friday, with a short work day and another high-intensity commute back to the country, through Friday afternoon big-city traffic (including loads of construction and millions of MDOT orange barrels).

Oh, I love my life!

Mixed feelings

Dragon Mood? -- slightly schizophrenic?

It's Friday and I'm feeling . . .

-- sad that, for the next two nights, I don't get to sleep in our silky sheets and huggable comforter and listen to the exuberant birds sing their early morning song;

-- excited that it's Friday and I do get to sleep with my honey ... AND play the piano;

-- sad that I don't get to spend more time with two of the most wonderful people in the world, my son and daughter;

-- excited that it's the end of a work week, especially when my work has been intermittent at best and boring at worst;

-- sad that time continues to pass, like sand slipping in an hourglass, even when present moments are golden and lovely and peaceful and I want them to continue without ceasing;

-- excited that perhaps this evening, S and I will finally get to ride on our best friends' new pontoon, drink cocktails, listen to the sand cranes cry their haunting cry, and watch the sun set on another gorgeous June evening.

Can a person feel so many sad and excited feelings all at once? No wonder I feel so jumbled up inside.

The world needs more *natural* BBQ sauce

Dragon Mood? -- hungry and salivating

My honey, S, likes to grill. She likes to grill meat. She is the grill-mistress in our family.

And, by the natural order of things, I am the shopping-mistress in the family. And, I've been looking at more marinades and BBQ sauces on the grocery store shelves in the past couple of years than I have in the previous forty-something years of my life!

And do you know what virtually all of these ready-made sauces and marinades have in them? -- many of them, the first ingredient (meaning it is the most plentiful ingredient)?: high fructose corn syrup. Yup, sweet corn syrup. Which, when you think about it, makes sense, because BBQ sauce does give meat a sweet taste.

Having said that, I happened upon the following recipe for BBQ sauce and (surprise, surprise!) its first ingredient is a cup of sugar. But I'm gonna publish it anyway, and then I'm gonna fix it and S can give it a try on the ol' grill this weekend:

Barbecue Sauce
Makes about 3 quarts

Ingredients:
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup salt
2 tablespoons celery seed
2 tablespoons ground cumin
2 tablespoons ground red pepper
2 tablespoons garlic powder
2 tablespoon chili powder
2 quarts catsup
2 cups apple vinegar
1 1/2 teaspoons liquid smoke
1 teaspoon lemon juice

Directions:
In a small bowl, six together sugar, salt, celery seed, cumin, red pepper, garlic powder and chili powder. Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine catsup, vinegar, liquid smoke, and lemon juice. Add dry ingredients and mix until very well blended. Serve warm of at room temperature.

Sauce may be stored in an airtight container in refrigerator for 2-3 weeks or in freezer up to 6 months.

Recipe courtesy of Gates BBQ. You can find more recipes at their Web site: www.gatesbbq.com.

And I found this recipe here.

Lesbian health issues

Dragon Mood? -- overlooked

From CNN, here is an article on the lack of information regarding lesbians' health issues. Here are some excerpts:

SAN FRANCISCO, California (AP) -- Accustomed to neglect from much of the medical establishment, the lesbian community is assigning itself the task of assessing -- often bluntly -- its members' distinctive array of health problems.

Even without a specific crisis as grave as the AIDS epidemic, the diagnosis is sobering: Compared to heterosexual women, lesbians appear to have higher rates of smoking, obesity and alcohol use. Often lacking health insurance or wary of unsympathetic doctors, they also may be less likely to undergo routine medical exams that could identify cancer and other problems at early stages.

Complicating all these factors, researchers say, is a glaring shortage of comprehensive data, resulting from the fact that most health surveys -- as well as death certificates -- don't account for sexual orientation.

"We don't know the mortality rates, we don't know the suicide rates," said Dr. Patricia Robertson of the University of California, San Francisco, School of Medicine. "Lesbians are invisible."
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Nationally, lesbian researchers are asking federal agencies to ensure that sexual orientation is included more often among questions asked in major health studies.

"We've gotten sick of having to give talks without data," Robertson said. "There's so much that needs to be done, and not enough funding. Our community is not being respected in terms of studying health."

All I can say is it's about damn time!

Dark Promises

Dragon Mood? -- licking my lips

From my fourth Dove (the chocolate, not the soap) Dark Promises wrapper comes this delightful prescription: "Sleep late, dream more."

Do those Dove people know what they're talkin' about or what?

Herbs at Summer Solstice

Dragon Mood? -- herb-alicious

From Belief.net:

Shakespeare drew on ancient folk tradition when he made a magical plant that inspired the center of his play, A Midsummer's Night's Dream--for midsummer has always been the most important time of year to gather magical herbs. Like the sun, which is at its peak on the Summer Solstice, the plants are at the height of their power. In Latvia, Midsummer Eve (June 23rd) is also known as Herb Evening.

Folk customs disagree on the most magical moment to gather these herbs: some say at noon, others at midnight and still others in the morning when the dew is still on them. The particular flowers and herbs to be gathered also differ by country, with carnations and lavender popular in Italy and violet and vervain in Germany. According to Elizabeth Luard in her book on Sacred Food, in Provence, five aromatic herbs—rosemary, thyme, marjoram, hyssop and sage--are gathered on the eve of Saint Jean (June 23) to make an "infusion aux herbes de Saint Jean."

St. John's Wort, with its solar yellow flowers, is the most frequently mentioned herb of Midsummer. According to old herbals, it is an herb of the Sun and of Leo. The botanical name is hypericum perforatum. Hypericon comes from hyper icon (because it was placed above icons); the perforatum refers to the tiny holes visible in the leaves and flowers if you look closely. St. John's Wort is named after St. John because it blooms on his day. Wort simply means an herb, usually a healing herb, thus it is attached to other herbs like motherwort and mugwort.

The plant is also connected with St. John because it appears to bleed. Pinch the flower heads or leaves and they will leave a dark red stain on your fingers. If the St. John's wort you are pinching does not do this, that's because you're pinching the ornamental St. John's Wort, hypericum calycinum (aka Rose of Sharon and Aaron's Beard). The ground cover is a low lying plant with rather thick green leaves and showy yellow 5-petaled flowers with a frilly center. The magical St. John's Wort grows about one foot tall and is rather spindly with small, 5-petaled flowers.

Herbalists often prescribe a tincture of St. John's Wort as an effective herbal anti-depressant—perhaps because it accumulates the sunny nature of Midsummer in its very being. As a magical herb, it's associated with protection. A poem from the year 1400 recommends rubbing "the red juicy flower" on the lintels of your home to protect from thunder and tempest. I use it this way in my house and car. I have a few sprigs pinned up over each entrance and a few above my rear view mirror and they've worked well.

Midsummer Wreaths
The symbol of the circle is as prominent at the summer solstice as at winter wSolstice. As a result, wreaths were integral to summer celebrations. They were worn while dancing around the midsummer bonfire, given as gifts, hung around the necks of cattle for protection, thrown into the fire at the end of the evening or taken home (slightly singed from the fire) to hang from the rafters.

Wreaths were also used as divining devices. Boys and girls gazed at each other across the fire through the wreaths, to see if they would be true and if they would marry within the year. (No indications are given on how they knew this.) Girls threw the wreaths across the fire to the boys to catch.
In Germany, people wore chaplets of mugwort and vervain and looked at the fire through bunches of larkspur, to keep their eyes healthy for the year. When they left, they threw their chaplets into the fire saying "May all my ill-luck depart and be burnt up with these."

I always gather up all the dried herbs, old wreaths and even the remains of my Christmas tree (stored in my closet since winter solstice) to toss into my midsummer bonfire. They burn and die just as the heat of the summer sun consumes the spring and brings us closer to the decline of autumn and the death of vegetation in winter.

Love and Flowers
According to Sir James Frazer in The Golden Bough, Latvian boys and girls went out into the fields at midsummer to gather cornflowers, water lilies and fragrant grasses to make into wreaths. It seems like the perfect opportunity for courtship, another favorite midsummer activity. There is an old Swedish proverb that says: "Midsummer night is not long but it sets many cradles rocking." This is, of course, because of the way the Swedes celebrate the holiday, with camping trips on the mountains and in the woods, during which much drinking and frolicking occurs.

In Estonia, lovers go into the forest on midsummer's eve to look for the flower of a fern which is supposed to bloom only on that night. Since ferns never bloom (as far as I know) this provides a good excuse for escaping into a shady and private grove.

In Portugal, at midsummer, lovers exchange little pots of magerico, a pungent plant, decorated with paper pinks to which love verses have been attached.

Plants were also used for love divinations on midsummer. In 17th century England, maids picked two sprigs of orpine (also known as midsummer-men) and hung them up in pairs from the ceiling, divining the future of their relationship by whether or not the plants inclined toward each other or apart. In Finland, girls go to the fields to gather seven different kinds of wild flowers and grasses. If you sleep with these tucked under your pillow, you will dream of your future mate.

I'm gonna leave work early and go pick some flowers . . .

More Summer Solstice stuff (I couldn't pass up the alliteration)

Dragon Mood? -- curious

These items were taken from here, here, and here:

-- The word "solstice" is derived from the Latin sol-stitium, for sun-standing. The summer solstice is the time of the year when the sun stops its northern climb and stands briefly before turning back toward the equator.

-- The official solstice is at 5:57 p.m., Greenwich Mean Time (GMT). That's when the Earth will be tilted so that the north pole is at its closest point with the sun. The result: There will be more minutes of daylight in the northern hemisphere than there are at any other time of the year.

-- The earliest sunrise (5:21 a.m.) of the year occurred last Monday. The longest days occur around the solstice (today), and the latest sunset (9:03 pm PDT) happens on June 28.

-- At this time of year, the full moon appears low above the southern horizon, as it did last Monday. It will rise from the southeast (128 degrees azimuth).

-- In ancient times, the beginning of summer was met with much joy. It meant a new beginning; the snow had thawed, the leaves were green, food was easier to find and crops could be planted. The season was so important that hundreds of groups celebrated it with religious festivities.

-- Most ancient civilizations throughout the world also have monuments and sites dedicated to the summer solstice. Sumerians, Egyptians, Persians, Mayans, Aztecs, among many other ancient people, all exerted great effort in building temples and pyramids precisely aligned with the sunrise on summer solstice.

-- In ancient Egypt, summer solstice was considered the beginning of the new year. It coincided with the flooding season, when the soil would be fertilized and water would quench the arid Nile Valley.

-- In ancient China, the ceremony celebrated the earth, the feminine and yin forces, complementing the winter solstice, which celebrated the heavens, masculinity and yang forces.

-- Many Native American tribes held feasts and created dances, ceremonies and stone structures linked with the solstice and other seasonal shifts.

--In recent years, archaeologists have unearthed a temple built by a Jewish sect called the Essenes at Qumram (where the Dead Sea Scrolls were discovered). The temple is aligned on a longitudinal axis so rays from the setting sun on summer solstice pass through to illuminate an altar at the eastern wall. The ancient historian Josephus wrote the Essenes were sun worshipers.

An interesting side-note: some historians suggest Jesus and John the Baptist might have been a members of this religious group. Could that suggest the source of the symbolic connection with Jesus’s death and resurrection and that of the sun’s setting (death) and rising (life)?

-- The Catholic Church celebrates June 21 as the feast day of St. John the Baptist. He was the harbinger of Jesus whose birth we celebrate near the winter solstice.

-- In North America as well as Europe, the summer solstice is historically important as a time of fertility and celebration. In Canada and the United States around 600 BC, various Native American tribes built large mounds, called “Medicine Wheels,” as astronomical observatories aligned with the rising sun on summer solstice.

-- In the American Southwest, the Anasazi Indians, around the year 1000, built complex temples with near perfect east-west alignment. The dawning sunlight on June 21 entered a window and illuminated an alcove niche. And on a desolate canyon wall, the Anasazi carved a solstice marker. On summer solstice, light from the rising sun passes through two boulders and creates an effect like a “dagger” cutting through the heart of the Anasazi marker.

-- Germanic, Slavic and Celtic tribes celebrated with a bonfire whose flames were said to bring luck to lovers who would jump through them and magic to give a boost to the sun's energy.

-- In Britain, Germany and the Nordic regions, winters are long, dreary and psychologically draining. When spring arrives and the weather turns warm, it truly is a time of celebration in these far northern latitudes.

--Until recent times, these regions marked May 1st as the first day of summer. The summer solstice was called “Midsummer.” May 1st was a joyous time as revelers gathered flowers and prepared bounteous feasts. May 1st was also the time to dance around Maypoles - vestiges of ancient fertility rites. Midsummer - the summer solstice - was considered a day for madcap romance and weddings. William Shakespeare famously dramatized this in his hilarious “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

-- June still is the most popular month for weddings.

-- Nordic cultures still celebrate Midsummer as a time for dancing and feasting.

The turning of the wheel

Dragon Mood? -- excitement & anticipating

I drove to the city late last night. It was 10:23 p.m. according to my car clock and there was still light in the western sky. The sky was a deepening blue and the moon was a svelte crescent high above the remaining light. Looking straight up, I could see stars.

I felt excited witnessing the ever-so-slight turning of the wheel of the seasons, with the sun one day shy of its longest (Earth) day for the year. I wanted to share this with someone! I called Yosh and babbled about the excitement of Midsummer's Eve. He patiently listened.

After we got off the phone, I listened to the BBC, via a regional NPR station. They reported from Stonehenge that it was 3:30 a.m. GMT and there were approximately 17,000 to 20,000 people gathered there to witness the first rays of sunlight striking the "heel" stone in that acient circle on the Summer Solstice. Oh, I wanted to be there!

Even though I was raised Lutheran (sometimes I refer to myself and my family as "dyed in the wool"), there is a part of me that appreciates and identifies with these ancient, pre-Christian rhythms of the seasons and of nature. The sun, the moon, the predictable rotations of the seasons-- they all feel as much a part of my being as those menstrual cycles which occupied my existence for almost forty years.

Waves, ebbs and tides, waxing and waning -- all part of the same circle, patterns within cycles, turning, revolving, over and over. There is comfort in such a predictable cycle, the sun returning to its same point in the sky, on this particular day, year after year. The ancients celebrated it and we, even with our vast and arrogant technologies, can celebrate it too. Thankfully, and I do give thanks, this day still holds mystery and excitement for me.

Happy Summer Solstice, everybody!

Post - lunch update

Dragon Mood? -- happier

I just heard from my cousin, Brenda, and my Uncle George is out of surgery and "moving around." Yeahhhh!

And I just have to say that the co-worker who shared four Dove (the chocolate, not the soap) Dark Promises with me deserves a gold star for doing a good deed. I've eaten three of them already (gulp), and they are wonderful!

Plus, each tinfoil wrapper has a little saying on the inside of it. The third one says, "Live your life without regrets." Amen, sisters and brothers.

Uncle George

Dragon Mood? -- restless

I'm sitting here at work, unable to concentrate. My Uncle George is about to undergo surgery in Austin, Texas, for cervical stenosis.

Cervical stenosis compresses the spine, causing loss of motion in a person's extremities. It can also cause intermittent shooting pains down the arms and the legs, like an electric shock. Uncle George has experienced this recently, bringing him to the floor with its intensity and unexpectedness.

This is a degenerative and chronic condition that can only be remedied by surgery. Any surgery on the spine or around the spinal area carries some serious risks with it.

If you knew my Uncle George, he's a take-charge kind of guy, striding around the family farm, barking orders. He's a guy who loves life and especially loves life on the farm. I think his days on the tractor may be over.

I hope the surgery goes well. I'm holding you "in the light," Uncle George. I am trusting that you will be okay.

I rarely crave sweets . . .

Dragon Mood? -- longing for chocolate

. . . but today I'm craving them like the Lakers are craving some glory, any glory.

(Did you see Game 5 of the NBA Play-offs? What a blow-out! The Pistons outplayed the Lakers on every front! I could only imagine the Lakers, tails between their legs, boarding a red-eye flight home to L.A., preparing to duke it out amongst their big-ego selves.)

I digress.

Sweets. I could go for a handful of soft, chewy chocolate cookies -OR- a hot fudge sundae covered with Spanish peanuts -OR- even (sniff) a vanilla-chocolate-swirl soft-serve yogurt from the local ice cream hangout.

Where is chocolate when you need it?

A room in hell

Dragon Mood? -- where am I?

In her blog, frog writes about decorating her room in hell.

Which prompts me to ask the question: what would my room in hell look and feel like? Some of my answers actually surprised me:

-- annoying creatures like mosquitos biting me in boney places
-- creepy things like silverfish and snakes slithering out when I least expect them
-- lima beans overflowing in bowls everywhere
-- heavy metal and/or head-banging music constantly
-- endless junk mail piling up into towering stacks
-- fanatic fundamentalist (and closed-minded) Christians talking incessantly
-- dead, forlorn-looking flowers
-- garish colors that scream at you
-- air that is stale and stagnant and slightly mildew-y smelling
-- an environment that I could never change or improve (sort of like having to work in Windows)
-- bad art
-- kitschy artwork that has the color mauve in it
-- plastic plants
-- being force-fed sugary candy that makes my teeth hurt
-- endless noise and/or talking (can you tell I need some modicum of silence?)
-- and then, all these sorts of people jammed into my room . . .
-- people who talk too loud
-- people who are always clearing their sinuses (snort, snort)
-- people with bad breath
-- people who pound randomly on piano keys
-- people who are relentlessly mean-spirited (we are talking hell here, aren't we?)

Oh geez, I need to take a break. I have over-achieved in imagining my room in hell!

Beguiling in summertime

From Oprah:

"How shall we beguile
The lazy time if not
with some delight?"
--William Shakespeare

Monday fatigue

Dragon Mood? -- it's Monday; doesn't that say enough?

Busy weekends lead to Monday fatigue. That's where I'm at. I know I should be working, but damn if I don't want to just put my head down on the desk and snooze.

My sister, Ruth, and brother-in-law, Paul, were in town this weekend, visiting doctors, socializing and catching up with family. S and I met up with Ruth at one of our favorite watering holes, Buddies, for some drinks Friday afternoon. Then Ruth and I gallivanted Saturday afternoon for a few hours, hitting the Okemos Meijer's (where Ruth asked, "Do you think it's strange to miss a store?") and Horrocks, where we each bought a dozen roses.

Ruth and Paul joined us Saturday evening for more drinks and let-your-hair-down conversation. We had a good time. It's always fun to visit, share and commiserate about what ever particular topic we choose: jobs, politics, Ronald Reagan's week-long funeral ceremonies, selected family members of a dysfunctional nature; that sort of thing, you know?

Sunday was another full day. I struggled with my new website, Merry Dragon which I'm having trouble getting to appear as I want, chased dust bunnies in anticipation of a houseguest later this week, and visited our friend, Kevin, over at his house.

S and I got home about 9:30, wolfed down a crummy, fast-food burger, watched ten minutes of the Pistons and the Lakers, started to fall asleep, ran the dog (exercise for her) around the subdivision on my bicycle (exercise for me) before jumping in the car and driving to the other house eighty miles away. I arrived there at 12:10 a.m. and was asleep and snoring (most likely) by 12:30 a.m.

Whew! No wonder I feel tired today!

Columbine Blossom

A close-up of a columbine blossom in our backyard butterfly garden. The hummingbirds also love these flowers! 

Iceland Poppy

This is an Iceland poppy (I hope that's the right name?) from our front yard. We planted these last year and they are coming up like gangbusters! 

Bearded Iris Baby

Here is a photo of our new, "baby" bearded iris. S planted this only four or five weeks ago and it produced these beautiful blossoms.

I'll have to ask her what the variety name is and include it in this posting. 

Transit of Venus

This is a belated posting of a photo of the transit of Venus across the sun. This photo was taken in Belarus (in the former Soviet Union) by Sergei Grits, and published by the Associated Press. 

Too busy

Dragon Mood? -- tuckered out

This past week, in terms of blogging, has been too busy. I spent a lot of time setting up Merry Dragon, a new blogging site for my mandalas and images. I feel like I have neglected Calypso Dragon 13 and its sister sites, Dragon Pix and Bliggity Bloggity Blog.

I *know* what I want each of these sites to look like, but lack the HTML and CSS skills to make it happen. Arrrrgh!!

I especially want to learn how to make an image as a background on a blog.

Woof-woof!

Dragon Mood? -- dogged Dragon stare



What Common Breed of Dog Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Poets Against the War

Dragon Mood? -- war sadness

I neglected to include a link to Poets Against the War, referenced by Nicholas Kristoff in his N.Y. Times column.

I took a look and found several poems that made me stop and think. One made my heart ache.

Poem

Dragon Mood? -- Somber


My New York Times email newsletter this morning included a link to Nicholas Kristoff column, entitled Poems of Blood and Anger. The one that spoke mostly powerfully to me was by a young man named Zach Chotzen-Freund of Santa Barbara, California. In this excerpt, he examines the esprit that leads 17-year-olds to sign up for war. Fittingly, he's 17.

Off now, children! Off to war! Kill in your country's name!
For murder on behalf of kin is what allows our boys to win
And rest someday in cherished lore. So off now, off to war!
Off now, children! Off to war! Make your fathers swell with pride!
For though you're young, they love to hear that you're a splendid bombardier
And dodge death like a matador.
So off now, off to war!
Off now, children! Off to war! Bring smiles to your mothers' eyes!
They hate to lose you, sure that's true, but if flags of red, white and blue
Are at your funeral, souls will soar.
So off now, off to war!

Hot Junish-day

Dragon Mood -- irritable

I can't help it. When the temperature is over 85 degrees and the humidity is upwards of 60%, I get irritable. I am like a polar bear in Miami. I don't belong in such heat.

Much as I was a Texan newborn, all these years in the northern climes of the Midwest has thickened my blood or whatever biological nonsense may explain my propensity to perspire and sweat.

And I do sweat. Not so much under my arms as on my face, the back of my neck and my throat area. I look like I belong in some Looziana swamp or Amazon jungle. Glowing, perspiring and out-and-out sweating; that's me.

My kids call it the "Grammie gene." My mother (who I wrote of yesterday) had the same reaction to warm weather. And my lovely daughter is showing some mild symptoms of the syndrome. Oh, and I mustn't forget my nephew, Aaron. He has a little bit of the Grammie gene syndrome, too.

It's a rather exclusive little club. You can't fake it, getting in. You either have this remarkable ability to perspire or you don't! And I do!

..."they're selfish and peevish and shallow and greedy"

Dragon Mood -- Bobbing head in agreement

From a Larry King Live transcript, interviewing Bill Maher on the troops in Iraq:

"... But I was going to say, you know, sometimes I watch the news and I see these brave people. And then I watch regular television, especially reality television, and you see people who are -- American citizens who are not asked to sacrifice, obviously, because they're selfish and peevish and shallow and greedy. And every show -- every reality show is based on cruelty -- You're fired. You're not good enough. You can't sing. Get off the island. You're not hot enough. And I ask myself, why is this first group of Americans defending the second group of Americans? I really ask that question."

Bill Maher's show, "Real Time With Bill Maher," returns to HBO on July 30. I can't wait.

Mom's 75th Birthday

My mom has been dead for eleven years. She died in April, 1993. She was 63, way too young to be leaving this life, as far as I'm concerned.

Today, she would be 75. She was born on June 7th, 1929, in Galveston, Texas. She was the first and only child of Albert and Hulda Rebsch. Albert was an optometrist (or perhaps training for the job?), after a variety of jobs, including working with the Santa Fe railways. Hulda (Nana to me) was the youngest of eight children, transplanted from Nebraska, and happy to be in Texas with her husband. She was 27 when my mother was born. I imagine her being a nervous, anxious new mother, although she always claimed she had, "enough milk to be a Jersey cow."

My mother was born four-and-a-half months before the stock market crash of 1929, and the beginning of the Depression. Pictures my sister and I have of her, she appears to be a pretty baby with big round eyes and a happy, sweet expression on her face. She was a small-framed women, with tiny ankles and wrists. Because of her frame, both my sister and I were delivered Caesarean. Mom always felt self-conscious about her weight, though. If she could have had it her way, she would have been svelte and beautiful. I think the only person in the world who made her feel special was her father, someone she absolutely adored.

I miss you, Mom. Happy Birthday!

Flower planting

Dragon Mood:Sweaty

In anticipation of planting loads of flowers today, I set my Unkymood at "Sweaty."

I bailed out of the big city yesterday by two, and headed straight to Horrocks for our flowers. I bought two flats of portulaca because they are such sturdy little flowers and, given a little encouragement and some Miracle-Grow, they will bloom all summer. Also, they do extremely well in pots on our warm, sunny deck.

I also bought a flat of those tiny, vibrantly-blue flowers, lobelia. I have no idea how I'm going to integrate those in with the portulaca (or not integrate them), but I will find somewhere to plant them. I love that deep blue! I cribbed a photo from here, showing the flowers:




Finally, I hit the local Save-A-Lot because they always have 99 cent geraniums. I bought ten salmon and red ones. Again, in my frugal perception, you get a lot of flower bang for the buck.

It's a gorgeous June morning and I'm looking forward to planting and putzing around the house.

Correction: Jupiter has more moons!

I goofed. In my previous posting, I mentioned that Jupiter has two moons.

Actually, Jupiter has four large moons and dozens of smaller ones (there are about 60 known moons so far). Galileo first discovered the four largest moons of Jupiter, Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto in 1610, using a 20-power telescope; these moons are known as the Galilean moons.

The moons of Jupiter are (in order by their distance from Jupiter): Metis, Adrastea, Amalthea, Thebe, Io, Europa, Ganymede (the biggest), Callisto (the second biggest), Leda (the smallest), Himalia, Lysithea, Elara, Ananke, Carme, Pasiphae, Sinope, and many newly-discovered moons that haven't been named yet.

Whoa! If I lived on Jupiter, I would have many moons to gush over!

"When the moon hits the sky like a big pizza pie . . . "

As an adult, I have fallen in love with the moon.

When I was a kid, gee, sometimes the moon was there, sometimes it wasn't. Big deal. What's to get excited about?

But now, . . . well, now I can feel mushy and gushy and rhapsodize over the moon.

Like this week. Oh my gosh, the moon has been full and resplendent and creamily luscious this week.

Tuesday night it was almost full. Hanging there in a sky that was the darkest of blues, it teased me, hiding behind gauzy, thin clouds sliding slowly by, and then, it would emerge, lightening and brightening everything around me. I held up my hand and could see its shadow on the concrete of our backyard patio. I basked in its light and shamelessly moonbathed.

Wednesday night, I saw the moon only fleetingly. It was not my night to enjoy her voluptuous loveliness.

Thursday night, I was driving back to the big city late. The moon was jutting up over the treeline, glowing in rich hues of apricot that flowed into deep pumpkin-y orange. Ohhhh! And, low on the horizon like that, the moon always looks seductively full. "Don't move, moon ... let me look at you!" I struggled to keep my attention focused on the traffic whizzing by me, while the moon played hide-and-seek with me in the night sky.

With such a lovely orb to behold as our moon, can you imagine what it would be like to be a resident of Jupiter with two?

Here is a cool website that features the current phase of the moon. Today, it tells me that it is a "Waning Gibbous, 79.6% of Full."

A Powerful Letter

I'm looking for women's blogs. I think I'm a bit obsessed. I rediscovered Ms. magazine's blog, Ms. Musings, and from there, oh my God, there are many, many blogpaths to follow.

Being the (anal retentive and) organized person that I am, I started at the top of the list, Alas a Blog. There is a reference to a letter by a mother who writes, "...while your children were doing what kids that age should be doing, mine labored over a suicide note..." It's about homophobia. Well, I had to read that!

From Alas a Blog, I went to Atrios, which linked to Unqualified Offerings which pointed to Fresh Bilge. Fresh Bilge had a link to another blog, but I gave up the search as he posted the full content of this mother's letter. While it is not new (dated April, 2000), it is timeless in its condemnation of homophobia:

Letter to the Editor
by Sharon Underwood, Sunday, April 30, 2000
from the Valley News (White River Junction, VT/Hanover, NH)

As the mother of a gay son, I've seen firsthand how cruel and misguided people can be.

Many letters have been sent to the Valley News concerning the homosexual menace in Vermont. I am the mother of a gay son and I've taken enough from you good people.

I'm tired of your foolish rhetoric about the "homosexual agenda" and your allegations that accepting homosexuality is the same thing as advocating sex with children. You are cruel and ignorant. You have been robbing me of the joys of motherhood ever since my children were tiny.

My firstborn son started suffering at the hands of the moral little thugs from your moral, upright families from the time he was in the first grade. He was physically and verbally abused from first grade straight through high school because he was perceived to be gay.

He never professed to be gay or had any association with anything gay, but he had the misfortune not to walk or have gestures like the other boys. He was called "fag" incessantly, starting when he was 6.

In high school, while your children were doing what kids that age should be doing, mine labored over a suicide note, drafting and redrafting it to be sure his family knew how much he loved them. My sobbing 17-year-old tore the heart out of me as he choked out that he just couldn't bear to continue living any longer, that he didn't want to be gay and that he couldn't face a life without dignity.

You have the audacity to talk about protecting families and children from the homosexual menace, while you yourselves tear apart families and drive children to despair. I don't know why my son is gay, but I do know that God didn't put him, and millions like him, on this Earth to give you someone to abuse. God gave you brains so that you could think, and it's about time you started doing that.

At the core of all your misguided beliefs is the belief that this could never happen to you, that there is some kind of subculture out there that people have chosen to join. The fact is that if it can happen to my family, it can happen to yours, and you won't get to choose. Whether it is genetic or whether something occurs during a critical time of fetal development, I don't know. I can only tell you with an absolute certainty that it is inborn.

If you want to tout your own morality, you'd best come up with something more substantive than your heterosexuality. You did nothing to earn it; it was given to you. If you disagree, I would be interested in hearing your story, because my own heterosexuality was a blessing I received with no effort whatsoever on my part. It is so woven into the very soul of me that nothing could ever change it. For those of you who reduce sexual orientation to a simple choice, a character issue, a bad habit or something that can be changed by a 10-step program, I'm puzzled. Are you saying that your own sexual orientation is nothing more than something you have chosen, that you could change it at will? If that's not the case, then why would you suggest that someone else can?

A popular theme in your letters is that Vermont has been infiltrated by outsiders. Both sides of my family have lived in Vermont for generations. I am heart and soul a Vermonter, so I'll thank you to stop saying that you are speaking for "true Vermonters."

You invoke the memory of the brave people who have fought on the battlefield for this great country, saying that they didn't give their lives so that the "homosexual agenda "could tear down the principles they died defending. My 83-year-old father fought in some of the most horrific battles of World War II, was wounded and awarded the Purple Heart.

He shakes his head in sadness at the life his grandson has had to live. He says he fought alongside homosexuals in those battles, that they did their part and bothered no one. One of his best friends in the service was gay, and he never knew it until the end, and when he did find out, it mattered not at all. That wasn't the measure of the man.

You religious folk just can't bear the thought that as my son emerges from the hell that was his childhood he might like to find a lifelong companion and have a measure of happiness. It offends your sensibilities that he should request the right to visit that companion in the hospital, to make medical decisions for him or to benefit from tax laws governing inheritance.

How dare he? you say. These outrageous requests would threaten the very existence of your family, would undermine the sanctity of marriage.

You use religion to abdicate your responsibility to be thinking human beings. There are vast numbers of religious people who find your attitudes repugnant. God is not for the privileged majority, and God knows my son has committed no sin.

The deep-thinking author of a letter to the April 12 Valley News who lectures about homosexual sin and tells us about "those of us who have been blessed with the benefits of a religious upbringing" asks: "What ever happened to the idea of striving...to be better human beings than we are?"

Indeed, sir, what ever happened to that?"

Dooh Nibor Economics

Here's an article from Common Dreams, quoted from the New York Times:

Dooh Nibor Economics
by Paul Krugman

Last week The Washington Post got hold of an Office of Management and Budget memo that directed federal agencies to prepare for post-election cuts in programs that George Bush has been touting on the campaign trail. These include nutrition for women, infants and children; Head Start; and homeland security. The numbers match those on a computer printout leaked earlier this year — one that administration officials claimed did not reflect policy.

Beyond the routine mendacity, the case of the leaked memo points us to a larger truth: whatever they may say in public, administration officials know that sustaining Mr. Bush's tax cuts will require large cuts in popular government programs. And for the vast majority of Americans, the losses from these cuts will outweigh any gains from lower taxes.

It has long been clear that the Bush administration's claim that it can simultaneously pursue war, large tax cuts and a "compassionate" agenda doesn't add up. Now we have direct confirmation that the White House is engaged in bait and switch, that it intends to pursue a not at all compassionate agenda after this year's election.

That agenda is to impose Dooh Nibor economics — Robin Hood [my emphasis] in reverse. The end result of current policies will be a large-scale transfer of income from the middle class to the very affluent, in which about 80 percent of the population will lose and the bulk of the gains will go to people with incomes of more than $200,000 per year.
...
Three years ago George Bush claimed that he was cutting taxes to return a budget surplus to the public. Instead, he presided over a move to huge deficits. As a result, the modest tax cuts received by the great majority of Americans are, in a fundamental sense, fraudulent. It's as if someone expected gratitude for giving you a gift, when he actually bought it using your credit card.
...
Right now, it seems that the 2004 election will be a referendum on Mr. Bush's calamitous foreign policy. But something else is at stake: whether he and his party can lock in the unassailable political position they need to proceed with their pro-rich, anti-middle-class economic strategy. And no, I'm not engaging in class warfare. They are.

Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company

What more can one say?