Sunday Scribblings #108 — The Future of the Planet

I don’t have a particularly good feeling about our future. Everything in our society is speeding up faster and faster, and I don’t think we have a good handle on what to do with it.  Cell phones - computers - GPS units - we are overwhelmed by media blasting us from every direction and available to all by phone to all and sundry who want to reach us. We have a sense of entitlement that was unheard of fifty years ago. We have no manners, and we are extremely sociopathic, caring nothing for anyone or anything other than ourselves.

Okay, not everybody is like that. And I only mention it because I think this “I just don’t care” attitude is part of our society’s downfall. Of course, there are many people that mind their own business and life their lives in a good way, but you don’t hear about them.  When was the last time you heard anything positive on the news? If I hear two stories of happiness in a month, it’s been a good month in my book. Blood, gore, and violence = ratings. Bah.

But that doesn’t explain my bad feeling.

Unless you live under a rock (and lucky you if you do) you know about global warming, air pollution, water shortages and water pollution, over fishing the oceans, animal extinction due to habitats evaporating, etc, etc, etc. We have been warned by numerous experts that we are on the road to hell and will have no one but ourselves to blame when we get there.

In contrast, we have too few people trying to stop and undo this mess and they are fighting against special interest groups and big business that want to perpetuate the status quo. After all, that’s how they make their $$$ for the politicians in their back pockets and their shareholders in the boardroom. But the face that they want people to see is one of compassion for our planet, so instead of doing something NOW, they will appropriate some funds to conduct “a study”, another word for “there, that should get them off our back for awhile.” If it wasn’t so sad, I would laugh at the tap dancing that politicians and big business do when they are forced to look at our global problems. They just haven’t seen any evidence to confirm that our planet is ailing, you know.

So what do we do? We will do what we can. Commit to live as green as possible. Don’t litter. Recycle. Reuse. Walk. Carpool. Use less water. Use natural cleaners instead of chemicals. Cut down on electricity. Turn down your thermostat. Slow down on the highway. Offer your services to support green causes.

If we do these things, the world may still be a mess, but you’ve done your part in your little corner of it. You can take satisfaction in that.

Sunday Scribblings #106 - Fearless

At the risk of overloading anybody who reads this blog with GrandDolly stories, I promise this one will be the last for awhile.

GrandDolly is definitely a fearless little creature. She will leap off a sofa and believe with all her heart that someone will be there to catch her. You could play the “dropping the baby” game for hours — she knows she’ll never hit the floor. I really believe that the reason she is this way is because she is so loved.

In her short life, she has been introduced to and interacted in a positive manner to no less than 12 grand and great grandparents or reasonable facsimiles thereof, plus assorted aunts, uncles, cousins, great aunts, great uncles, etc. Foregoing licensed daycare, DD is able to have GrandDolly watched by one family member or another. I don’t think GrandDolly has ever had to deal with somebody with a mean streak. Until I started watching my DD and her husband and the rest of this extended family surround this child with so much love, I don’t think I was aware that it would foster such a reaction. Based on her 18 month old demeanor, she is secure in her belief that the people in her life are kind and loving.

On the flip side, when GrandDolly is meeting someone new for the first time, she will not arbitrarily accept that stranger; she will first check out how I (or her mother or whatever adult is with her) react to that person, and mirror the body language that is being displayed.

I find this to be comforting and hope that she will continue this behavior as she grows up. I pray that she will continue to listen to her instincts and be strong enough to run in the other direction when she senses danger. Being fearless is one thing — but a small dose of fearful will go a long way in keeping her safe in the years to come.

Sunday Scribblings #105 Photograph

Of all of the pictures that I have, this picture of my sister and me and our grandmother is my favorite. I look at that little me and I see my daughter when she was that age. I also see where I thought cutting my own bangs would be a fabulous idea!! For whatever reason, I am fascinated by all of the details in the picture.

• My grandmother’s hair is so dark — I only remember it being silver.
• This picture was taken somewhere around 1956, so Nanny would have been only 56, three years older than I am now.
• I wonder what she is thinking as she looks at my sister in the wash basin. I can almost feel her hand on my shoulder.
• What is the Tag House that is printed on the calendar?
• Why is there a coat hanger hanging on the wall?
• I had forgotten that the kitchen walls and ceiling were wainscoting.
• I remember well the stove pipe coming out of the morning stove and the water heater that had to be lit by hand in back of the gas stove.
• I remember Nanny holding a special spoon (she kept in the cupboard in a paper towel tube) over the pilot light of the gas stove, melting Vicks Vaporub so that she could rub it on our chests and throats when we had colds. And then she would tie one of Grandpa’s socks around our throats to keep it warm!! I love looking at this picture. I always wish I could go back to that age and feel my grandmother’s love and caring again.

And this is my grandparents wedding picture. I believe they were married in June 1922. (Oops!! I accidentally typed in 1992 in the first version of this post — thanks Granny and Paisley for correcting me) I remember reading a copy of their wedding announcement. It said something to the effect that they had many good friends that were wishing them well in their marriage. But when they got married, they had nobody in attendance except the minister/pastor!! I always thought that kind of odd. Sissy and I have my Grandpa’s cleft chin and forehead. Nanny’s face and mine are the same shape. Sissy and I both have ash colored hair like Nanny’s. It’s so cool to look at how young they were and be able to see how we resemble them. In this picture, Nanny was 22 and Grandpa was 23.

There are those that would say that I seem to be stuck in the past, or that I spend an inordinate amount of time reminiscing about my grandparents, but I don’t think so. It was a very happy time for us, having our grandparents care for us. It’s only natural that when you have happy memories, you will re-visit them again and again. I have so many questions now that I wish I had asked them and of course, that time has passed. It’s my hope that I can provide my GrandDolly with the story of my life and how she and her mommy and daddy fit into it. Giving her a sense of who she is and where she came from is important, don’t you think?

If you have a special photograph and story that you’d like to share, click here for Sunday Scribblings.

Sunday Scribblings #104 - Out of this World

It’s been said by scientists much more knowledgeable than me that it is doubtless that life exists on other planets. I would hate to think that human life on our planet, whose common denominator seems to be violence, is the only life in the universe. Kind of arrogant, eh?

I have no scientific evidence, but I believe there is life out there somewhere. Probably looking back at us and saying “uh, uh, not going there — they shoot first and ask questions later.” Just kidding. But really, if there are others out there and they are watching us, what can they possibly think of us and our planet? We have a history that reeks of violence and war and disease and waste. We’ve learned nothing from our history except that it will repeat itself — and we don’t seem to want to stop it. Y’know, when my GrandDolly is for instance trying to get upon the couch, if it doesn’t work after a couple of times, she changes her tack. She learns it that quickly and she’s only 18 months old!!

Good grief, where was I going with this……

Oh yeah — so anyway, my first introduction to outer space and fantasy and other worlds was in a book. It was given to me by a librarian when I was in fifth or sixth grade. You’ve all heard of it, I’m sure. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle. Reading it, I could SOOOO empathize with Meg Murry. We were about the same age, I didn’t seem to fit in anywhere, I felt like such an ugly duckling, I had abandonment issues, and blah, blah, blah. The battle between good (Meg, Charles Wallace and Calvin) and evil (The Black Thing and It) that takes place on Camazotz seemed to me to be a fair trade off with my life. It couldn’t possibly be any worse than what I dealt with on a daily basis at school. More on that in another post for another day.

I was bright enough to know that this was a work of fiction of course, but it opened up the idea to me that there was more to life than what we know on our planet. This conclusion has stayed with me until this very day. So even though there is no absolute proof, I am at least sure that the possibility is there — and someday I hope that scientists will be able to substantiate this fact. Perhaps knowing that there is life elsewhere is just the kick in the pants our society needs to finally work together and make this planet the marvel that it could be. Maybe then our home on earth would be hospitable enough that we would have visitors from “out there” that would be as interested in learning about us as we would be learning about them. Just think, there might be a kid out there right now, looking at our sun through a telescope and wondering if there might be other life on other planets…….

Sunday Scribblings #103 — I Just Don’t Get It

Because it’s been such a long week (insert long drawn out sigh accompanied by morose violin music here) I’m taking the easy way out. Here’s a list of I Just Don’t Get Its.

• There is a song that rolls around in my head almost constantly. It’s a round that I learned when I was in grade school (40 years ago!!!) and it goes: “Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bush is he, laugh kookaburra, laugh kookaburra, gay your life must be”. I do NOT understand why I can’t shake this stupid little song loose.
• I am the opposite of an anorexic. Anorexics look in the mirror and lament how fat they are. I look in the mirror and truly believe I’m looking at a size 10 me but I’m really a size 14 me. Imagine my surprise when size 10 jeans don’t fit!!
• I have slept pretty well for the past 8 or 9 nights. Tonight I am wide awake. I have done nothing different to account for this sleeplessness, but there you have it. There’s a nice moon out tonight, tho.
• I’ve been looking at my hands lately. I have my grandmother’s hands. So does my sister. I can remember tracing Nanny’s veins on the top of her hands when I was little, and now my GrandDolly does the same thing to my hands. I feel a very strange connection linking me to GrandDolly and Nanny. Actually, I do get this now, but I didn’t for awhile.
• There was a guy that pulled out in front of me last week. Pulled out is not quite right. He eased out in front of me. I was booking along about 45mph with no one in back of me. Another car was coming toward me, also with nobody in back of her. I laid on the horn, because I was convinced this person couldn’t see either one of us. I was wrong. He gives me the finger. I don’t get that. HE pulled out in front of me — why would he get so offended when I voiced my displeasure of him almost hitting my car. Bozo…….
• I don’t get why people are so self absorbed as to not notice anything in the world outside of their little orbit. Monumental drama over diddly, and totally unaware of the big picture in the real world or how they are contributing to the problems. Honestly, some days I would like to just cuff some of the up side the head.
• And why would anybody want to be president anyway???

There are more I Just Don’t Get Its here at Sunday Scribblings.

Sunday Scribblings #102 — Smorgasbord

Looking over the topics from this past year that are offered again this week, one in particular stood out — superstition!!!

One of the ladies that I work with has a superstition for just about any action you can name. She says it’s because she had an Irish mother and grandmother coupled with her Catholic school upbringing. Quite an arsenal they used to keep their children in line with fear.

If she is to be believed, this is just a short list of her do’s or don’t’s.

• It’s very bad luck to put your shoes on a table — or a bed — or a chair — or anywhere other than the floor, apparently.
• It’s very bad luck to lay down on your bed with the bedspread on — double the bad luck if you wear above mentioned shoes while laying down on the bed.
• If a girl whistles, she will make the Virgin Mother cry. (Guess who drummed that one into her head!!) But if you’re a boy, it’s okay. Gotta love that double standard.
• A good Catholic girl never wears black patent leather shoes with a skirt. That’s according to the nuns. Apparently if you are a Catholic girl, it’s possible for people to see your underwear reflected in the shine of your shoes.
• If your right hand itches you will be meeting someone new. If your left hand itches you will be getting money.
• If you suddenly shiver, it means someone has walked over your grave. (What the heck does that mean, anyway?)
• If a bird flies into a window, someone who lives in the house will die soon.
• If you go to church without a hat, you have to wear a tissue (???) on your head. (Honest, I couldn’t make that one up if I tried!!)
• It’s bad luck to turn the page for the next month of a calendar before the current month has ended.
• It’s also bad luck to rock a rocking chair without anybody in it.

Not being Catholic or Irish, I live to torment this poor woman — whistling is usually my weapon of choice, although I have stooped to taking off my shoes and putting them on the counter at work. Someday I’m going to show up at work with black patent leather shoes and a skirt!!!!

Sunday Scribblings #101 — Experiment

Short and sweet this week.

With the state that our world is in, I think a global experiment is in order.

It’s time to lace the water supplies with valium or something similar to improve everybody’s mood. JMHO

And that’s Sunday Scribblings for this week folks!

Sunday Scribblings #100 — Time Machine

Books about time travel are my guilty pleasure — but there are a few parameters to which they must adhere; the time traveler must travel back in time to Scotland. Only. The hero must be a very tall and muscular warrior and must look stunning in plaid. Or if it is a heroine, she must be beautiful and kind to all but will not be bossed by any man. Oh, and most of the book should be about trying to convince the hero or heroine that their love interest is from the future.

But really, the possibilities of moving through time — it just overwhelms the mind! When would you go, who would you see, what would you say?

I would go back to the late 60’s or early 70’s. The kids I hung around with would go across the border into Canada and go swimming at the dam at Kensington — or was it the bridge that we called it? Anyway — not that’s it’s important to the story — after swimming most of the afternoon or evening away and becoming famished in the process, we would go farther into Canada to Huntington. There was (and quite possibly still is) a greasy spoon called Pevin’s (pronounced pee’-vahns) where they made THE BEST WITHOUT QUESTION hot dogs with chili sauce and french fries smothered with gravy. I would love to taste those again.

I would ask my grandmother and grandfather what their lives were like growing up in the early 1900’s. I would also ask them what their parents were like, and their grandparents. And I would then write it down for my daughter and her daughter, so as not to lose the history, which unfortunately, has been lost. I would go through all of the pictures that were in a big box in a bedroom at my grandparent’s and write on the back who they were and how they would be related to me.

I would steal borrow without intent of returning the picture that hung in Nanny’s living room of our great-grandmother for my sister. Sissy looks like her and I know that she would love it. I hope it fits in the time machine.

I would visit the places of my childhood of which I have fond memories, and I would be sure to take pictures of those places to remind myself that there were good times in my past. Sledding and skating in the winter, swimming at Meacham Lake and Pine Ridge Park in the summer, going to the farm with Grandpa, sitting with Nanny on the sun porch and smelling her Here’s My Heart perfume. Sitting by the wood stove in the kitchen, puddling in the pantry sink with Sissy, sitting with Grandpa and watching Walt Disney on Sunday night. Back then, walking to the store was fun, although it seemed like a much longer walk when I was little. Shorter legs back then, y’know.

Yeah, time travel is still not possible — hang onto all the memories that you can, because you can’t go back and re-experience them!! Write it down, take pictures, talk to the people that are important before they are gone. They are your time machine.

So what’s your time machine? If you have a story that you would like to share, click here for Sunday Scribblings.

Sunday Scribblings #99 Passion

While browsing the Sunday Scribblings posts on this topic, I noticed that the underlying theme of the posts seemed to be:

Passion = intensity

Hmm. Now, I really enjoy doing a lot of things. Knitting, walking, blogging (no duh), photography, sewing, a great cup of coffee. But I don’t recognize myself as being an intense person. I am enjoying this quiet road unfurling in front of me without dips and curves. I don’t believe that translates into a person without passion.

If tomorrow dawned and I was forbidden to participate in any of the activities that I enjoy, my life as I know it would not end. I don’t feel driven to do these things to the exclusion of all else. Well, taking away my coffee might be a bump in the road. Perhaps we could re-negotiate that part.

I know these things:

I know that I am passionately grateful for this wonderful life and my incredible family.

I know that I am passionately at peace and happier right now than at any other time in my life.

And I know that a quiet passion is equal to a passion with burning intensity.

Now, about that coffee…….

What fuels your passion? Click here for Sunday Scribblings.

Sunday Scribblings #98 Sleep

Sleep. Especially lack of it.

I have an overabundance of lack of sleep. A lifetime insomniac, with sudden streaks of blissful sleep thrown in for just a few days or weeks, I have more or less made peace with the fact that I will probably never be one of those who can “lay down on this floor and pass out”. At least, not without the help of tequila.

I don’t remember specific instances of sleeplessness while I was a youngster or as a teen. It seemed to start generally around the same time that I married. I was too young and too stupid to listen to what the fates were trying to tell me, apparently. My marriage was one eternal and uninterrupted string of chaos, stress and bewilderment. Goodness, why sleep when you can stay awake and fight?

I remember thinking when we first separated, that for the first few months, I would relish the peace and quiet and JUST SLEEP!!!! Peace and quiet finally abounded in my life — sleep was elusive. I would go to the all night supermarket at 2:30am because since I was awake anyway, I might as well make use of my time. It’s sad when the night shift stock guys know you by name, but you can only watch so many infomercials before brain cells start dying.

I went through many years of trying to force myself to sleep — spent many nights looking at the clock every 15 minutes and telling myself if I would just go to sleep RIGHT NOW I could get at least X hours of sleep before I had to get ready for work. Tried sleep aids — OTC and Rx’d. Tried yoga. Tried meditation. Tried hot milk. BLECH!

I cut out caffeine, made sure my bedroom was dark as a tomb, kept a diary of everything I ate and drank or what I did and when I did it. I even included the phases of the moon and any threats of stormy weather. I read everything I could about sleeplessness and what the experts recommended be done to combat it.

(Yawn) So as I sit on the sofa watching the tube with Sweet Baboo, my head nods and my eyes slam shut. I go to bed, lay down and get comfy, then my eyes fly open and my brain kicks into overdrive. Not about anything actually important mind you, just this craptastic fluff that bounces around in my head like little balloons. (Sigh)

Since nothing else seemed to work, I decided to try acceptance. It works better for me than most of the suggestions. If I can’t fall asleep within just a few minutes, I get back up. I don’t usually turn on the TV but will read a book or knit something that doesn’t require a lot of brain cells. I don’t look at the clock if I can help it. My flawed logic is that even if I don’t sleep that night or the next or the next, eventually I will for sure sleep because I can’t stay awake forever. It’s far from a perfect solution, but it’s the best that I have right now. Luckily, I seem to not be requiring as much sleep as I (ahem) become older. Maybe I’ll be able to complete all of those knitting projects that I want to do after all. Maybe this will all resolve itself someday. Maybe sheep will fly.

Still awake? If you would like read more about sleep or a lack thereof, click here for Sunday Scribblings.