Life isn't about waiting for the storms to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain.
Saw this and loved it!!
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Rights for all
From an AAUW news brief: "Thousands gathered at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., to remember feminist and civil rights champion Dr. Dorothy Height. President Obama eulogized Dr. Height saying, "We remember her for all she did over a lifetime, behind the scenes, to broaden the movement's reach...To make us see the drive for civil rights and women's rights not as a separate struggle, but as part of a larger movement to secure the rights of all humanity, regardless of gender, regardless of race, regardless of ethnicity."
Being a member of AAUW, I am particularly fond of the fact that we not forget that in supporting women's equity rights, we not forget we should be supporting humanity in general. Men, children, immigrants...for we are not different from one another in our dreams and hopes. In our self-interest, we should strive to account for our own actions in this regard and not overlook our own prejudice.
Being a member of AAUW, I am particularly fond of the fact that we not forget that in supporting women's equity rights, we not forget we should be supporting humanity in general. Men, children, immigrants...for we are not different from one another in our dreams and hopes. In our self-interest, we should strive to account for our own actions in this regard and not overlook our own prejudice.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Why Here
Why here? My husband and I moved to this small Eastern Oregon town 3 1/2 years ago. It was almost a cliché. He came home from a motorcycle adventure, the Hells Canyon Motorcycle Rally, and announced, “You have to see this place”. Our friends, who had also been on the trip, were already searching for property. I had driven by on the gritty, truck rutted I-84 a few times, often late at night and usually commented how beautiful the snow capped mountain scenery appeared.
It never occurred to me we would seriously uproot and move within a few months. Particularly, as after 20 years of marriage we had just completed my dream kitchen remodel complete with real Hickory cabinets and starry night black granite countertops with copper flecks and an arty dangle light over the expansive cooking surface and wine sipping area. Especially, as my husband was known to hate moving and treated his home purchased 34 years before as his man cave and sanctuary. You could have made a Las Vegas bet with odds of a million to one, that he would never move. Really. Just ask his best friends and relatives.
Why here. To some eyes, it’ s a small town with few job prospects, no mall, big diesel trucks with unleashed dogs in the back, and dodgy looking fella’s squinting in the bright sun ,occupying sidewalk corners, staring as the outsiders BMW convertible zips past on Main street. Throw in the occasional hoarder’s contraption filled yard (a metal scrap man’s dream) and you can see why a person barely passing through with big city eyes might keep on passing.
Here is where I nearly fell out of my sandals laughing the first several times someone actually stopped so I could cross the street; no crosswalk light required. And then the teenaged kid revving his truck loudly rolled down his window and apologized, saying it kept dying on him and he was just trying to get it home. And the people passing by on a riverside walk looked me in the eye, smiled, and said Good Morning. I actually existed.
Here is where I found a coffee shop, with people interested in who was new in town, and where you had traveled and what you might want to see next. The coffee was terrific, and yes, they could make a non-fat no foam Latte. Here is where the bookstore has an amazing collection of history and mystery and new best sellers and old timer’s memoirs. The library is modern and beautiful and striving to serve every community member.
It turns out that most of the fella’s on the corner were squinting because it was sunny that day and they don’t own fancy Oakley shades, and were leery of stepping boldly out in front of the tourist who didn’t know it was only polite to let pedestrians cross the street even if you had a green light. The dog in the truck was likely either Mr. Jones well mannered farm dog, or one of the future assistance dogs being trained in town. The dress shop and the gift stores have more than enough beautiful pretties to satisfy all but a shopaholics cravings. The jewelry stores have stunning and original pieces, as well as the tasteful and affordable. The groceries are stocking locally grown and organic produce next to favorite staples. The constable may even give a newcomer a pass at the confusing cross lanes on 10th and Hughes Lane. The first time.
Here is where 20 minutes gets you to Huckleberry bushes and pristine reservoirs. Here, a heron rookery, bluebird trail, and peregrine nests are common but no less awe inspiring. If you name all the bird and wildlife you see in a day here, the “ditchsiders” are likely to think you are lying. Here, the man with the junk in his yard, is very likely to offer to find you just the right part for that old lawnmower you need.
Here is where your neighbor will come over and help you tear off the old leaky gutters on your house; before you fall off the ladder. They offer to pick up your newspaper and feed your cat when you have to leave town. No charge, although a cup of coffee would be welcome.
Here is where your kids can still ride their bikes and play in the park. Here the historic Movie theatre, named after the original owners's wife (but spelled backwards we explain), still has Sugar Babies and Whoppers. Here, an inspiring arts community allows anyone to try their hand at crafting, Or you can just admire and it’s no big deal to rub shoulders with a painter and a potter. And the 360 degree view of snow capped mountains are beautiful.
Here is not Utopia. Things happen. Bad people are still bad people. Here people do have different strong opinions. But here, it is still your right to be your own person, be respected, and the coffee to be hot and the conversation to be lively. Stop in. You might even pack up and move here.
It never occurred to me we would seriously uproot and move within a few months. Particularly, as after 20 years of marriage we had just completed my dream kitchen remodel complete with real Hickory cabinets and starry night black granite countertops with copper flecks and an arty dangle light over the expansive cooking surface and wine sipping area. Especially, as my husband was known to hate moving and treated his home purchased 34 years before as his man cave and sanctuary. You could have made a Las Vegas bet with odds of a million to one, that he would never move. Really. Just ask his best friends and relatives.
Why here. To some eyes, it’ s a small town with few job prospects, no mall, big diesel trucks with unleashed dogs in the back, and dodgy looking fella’s squinting in the bright sun ,occupying sidewalk corners, staring as the outsiders BMW convertible zips past on Main street. Throw in the occasional hoarder’s contraption filled yard (a metal scrap man’s dream) and you can see why a person barely passing through with big city eyes might keep on passing.
Here is where I nearly fell out of my sandals laughing the first several times someone actually stopped so I could cross the street; no crosswalk light required. And then the teenaged kid revving his truck loudly rolled down his window and apologized, saying it kept dying on him and he was just trying to get it home. And the people passing by on a riverside walk looked me in the eye, smiled, and said Good Morning. I actually existed.
Here is where I found a coffee shop, with people interested in who was new in town, and where you had traveled and what you might want to see next. The coffee was terrific, and yes, they could make a non-fat no foam Latte. Here is where the bookstore has an amazing collection of history and mystery and new best sellers and old timer’s memoirs. The library is modern and beautiful and striving to serve every community member.
It turns out that most of the fella’s on the corner were squinting because it was sunny that day and they don’t own fancy Oakley shades, and were leery of stepping boldly out in front of the tourist who didn’t know it was only polite to let pedestrians cross the street even if you had a green light. The dog in the truck was likely either Mr. Jones well mannered farm dog, or one of the future assistance dogs being trained in town. The dress shop and the gift stores have more than enough beautiful pretties to satisfy all but a shopaholics cravings. The jewelry stores have stunning and original pieces, as well as the tasteful and affordable. The groceries are stocking locally grown and organic produce next to favorite staples. The constable may even give a newcomer a pass at the confusing cross lanes on 10th and Hughes Lane. The first time.
Here is where 20 minutes gets you to Huckleberry bushes and pristine reservoirs. Here, a heron rookery, bluebird trail, and peregrine nests are common but no less awe inspiring. If you name all the bird and wildlife you see in a day here, the “ditchsiders” are likely to think you are lying. Here, the man with the junk in his yard, is very likely to offer to find you just the right part for that old lawnmower you need.
Here is where your neighbor will come over and help you tear off the old leaky gutters on your house; before you fall off the ladder. They offer to pick up your newspaper and feed your cat when you have to leave town. No charge, although a cup of coffee would be welcome.
Here is where your kids can still ride their bikes and play in the park. Here the historic Movie theatre, named after the original owners's wife (but spelled backwards we explain), still has Sugar Babies and Whoppers. Here, an inspiring arts community allows anyone to try their hand at crafting, Or you can just admire and it’s no big deal to rub shoulders with a painter and a potter. And the 360 degree view of snow capped mountains are beautiful.
Here is not Utopia. Things happen. Bad people are still bad people. Here people do have different strong opinions. But here, it is still your right to be your own person, be respected, and the coffee to be hot and the conversation to be lively. Stop in. You might even pack up and move here.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
How much are you worth?
If you were ever waaaayyyy up an apple tree, where you had been carefully pruning with clippers and shears and pruning saws , and under you was a very nice aluminum garagae sale ladder with just a slight twist when you push off hard on the top step as you are trying to saw through a knothole...and it really gives you a scare as it tips away from your scrabbling feet...has anyone else wondered how long it would be before your spouse came looking for your body? Or came to rescue you at the top of the tree as you sat forlornly on an upper branch Y.Of course, the sun is shining, the quail are hooting in the field, the cat is staring at you from the neighboring Ash tree, wondering perhaps what exotic turkey that is in the apple tree.
It occured to me, it might be quite some time. After all, the Daytona 500 was on the television, honey....and really I was just about to come check on you...really honey-bunch...I would have come ...really.
It occured to me, it might be quite some time. After all, the Daytona 500 was on the television, honey....and really I was just about to come check on you...really honey-bunch...I would have come ...really.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The first week
The first week of 2010 has flown by. I finished Kellyn's baby quilt, only 3 months late. Im cleaning out the office. I spent a few hours remembering the past while going through old scrapbooks and collections.Im trying to eat right. I just finished a great although somewhat grim book by Tim Gatreaux entitled The Clearing.Very good writing.We celebrated a birthday for Irvs 70th, a ping-pong party, a goodbye party and watched so many football games my eyes are crossed. The exercise thing is NOT going so well.
The garage constuction is proceeding despite the freezing weather. Rod and I are very excited about that. It was looking like a mud bath outside for a bit.
We are trying hard this year to bring the positive to the forefront, and leave the negative behind.
The garage constuction is proceeding despite the freezing weather. Rod and I are very excited about that. It was looking like a mud bath outside for a bit.
We are trying hard this year to bring the positive to the forefront, and leave the negative behind.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
I really am...
The agony of Christmas is almost past. But that's another thought. Time for the New Year and its resolutions. I was cleaning my house (well, a small corner of it) and thought of the new year.
This year, 2010, I really am going to....
1) Have that Garage sale and get rid of all the knickknacks I dont ever take out.
2) Write a chapter or two of those books spinning in my head
3) Plan that trip to France and Italy Im going to take someday
4) Read all the books in my stack
5) And increase my exercise ( this will be easy as going from zero to one minute worth counts!)
6)Finish some of the sewing/quilting projects that are piling up!
7) Plan the Orchard
8) Talk Wanda in to letting me take paino lessons on her new piano!!
9) Send out those notes to poeple I think of all the time but never quite dial up
10) Visit the beach at least twice
And you????
This year, 2010, I really am going to....
1) Have that Garage sale and get rid of all the knickknacks I dont ever take out.
2) Write a chapter or two of those books spinning in my head
3) Plan that trip to France and Italy Im going to take someday
4) Read all the books in my stack
5) And increase my exercise ( this will be easy as going from zero to one minute worth counts!)
6)Finish some of the sewing/quilting projects that are piling up!
7) Plan the Orchard
8) Talk Wanda in to letting me take paino lessons on her new piano!!
9) Send out those notes to poeple I think of all the time but never quite dial up
10) Visit the beach at least twice
And you????
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sad Santa
Sorry folks its been awhile. Not that I didnt want to "talk" to you but sometimes sorting it all out just takes too much energy. Anyway, today's topic is Santa.
I personally witnessed a fairly sad Santa the other day. It was hilarious.We watched as the 299th kid was plugged onto Santa's lap, by the Elf. The Elf who dangled candy canes in front of the kids nose then ripped it away and stuck the kid on Santa's lap.
They all screamed!!The kids that is. I think Santa wanted to scream too. He wasn't smiling. He wasnt Ho Ho ing. Nada. Nothing. A grim line where his smile should be, right above where the itchy white fake polyester looking beard was perched.
Our grand nephew did really well in line, dangling his legs over his Dad's shoulders and running his candy cane gooped fingers in Dad's hair. He was calm. Composed. Didn't look a bit worried like all the kids in front of him in line. Even the 8 year old looking kids were looking dubious. The one little girl, she outright howled. I admit it. I laughed like a hyena. It was funny. All those parents paid 10 bucks to have their lovely and sweet children photographed with the man of Christmas, bringer of secret stuff, man of wrapped goodies and to whom they have written their most secretest desires and mailed to the North pole for his eyes only. But in person.... The Masked Red man just didnt fit the billing. He was fat, and fake, and furry. Ick.And some lady dressed in an Elf costume kept taking candy away. Geez!
I personally witnessed a fairly sad Santa the other day. It was hilarious.We watched as the 299th kid was plugged onto Santa's lap, by the Elf. The Elf who dangled candy canes in front of the kids nose then ripped it away and stuck the kid on Santa's lap.
They all screamed!!The kids that is. I think Santa wanted to scream too. He wasn't smiling. He wasnt Ho Ho ing. Nada. Nothing. A grim line where his smile should be, right above where the itchy white fake polyester looking beard was perched.
Our grand nephew did really well in line, dangling his legs over his Dad's shoulders and running his candy cane gooped fingers in Dad's hair. He was calm. Composed. Didn't look a bit worried like all the kids in front of him in line. Even the 8 year old looking kids were looking dubious. The one little girl, she outright howled. I admit it. I laughed like a hyena. It was funny. All those parents paid 10 bucks to have their lovely and sweet children photographed with the man of Christmas, bringer of secret stuff, man of wrapped goodies and to whom they have written their most secretest desires and mailed to the North pole for his eyes only. But in person.... The Masked Red man just didnt fit the billing. He was fat, and fake, and furry. Ick.And some lady dressed in an Elf costume kept taking candy away. Geez!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)