Z Words

In which I do a little victory haiku dance...

2011-11-30T09:03:00.001-06:00

I Won Now What

hollow victory

open space mars manuscript

somuch more to do

In Which Vera Has A Day Off & Writes a Little

2011-11-21T09:32:00.001-06:00

A chill mist whispered in the trees. Dry leaves, here and thereclung to their branches as if hoping that the seasons were wrong. That really,it was early spring and they could stay. Vera kept repeating that in her head. Shebought a notebook at one of those discount pharmacies, the one where she gother medicine.

Thenshe walked to a small pocket park and sat down in the early morning gloom.

Shewrote:

Treeswhisper chill words

Oneleaf clings to her bare branch

Hopingspring will come.

Not bad. She wrote some more:

Theman eats mashed sardines.

Withoutonion they are not so good,

heexplained once to me.

tomato cuts the salt, sweetens it.

The bread has to be toasted rye

toremind him of his childhood.

Iwish I had a food I loved like that

Mychildhood noodles are nothing

butmush.

That one needs work but it will do. For now.

One more small one:

~~Iris blue eyes searching~~

~~Mine did not know to look~~

But that did not work.

I dreamed you were sweet in my hands

like syrup and you stuck to me

And that was all she could write.Maybe later. As Vera walked backto her apartment in the darkening gloom, she wondered if she would ever seeIris again. She felt something like irritation and embarrassment in her heart.She wondered if she had been precipitous to think that she and Iris had anykind of connection at all. She still had the drawing, with the heart, but hadnot heard anything at all from Iris.

First Person? Third Person? Who Knows?

2011-11-08T16:15:00.002-06:00

And I'm at 14117 words right now. But who cares? What's important is that sometimes my narrator switches from 3rd to 1st Person and it's worrisome, but one WriMo told me that it might be a way for the protagonist to let me know exactly what the story is or how to tell it.

And that is somewhat true. I don't quite have a beginning, middle and end sort of story right now. It's all like the shapeless mass the earth was when the big bang happened.
With that in mind, I'm going to offer another excerpt. It includes some snatches of poetry. I like the sardines one best.

Please share only with attribution. Thank you.

Back on theFood Truck:

Iwas filling the napkin holder with twice as many as Garland said I should. Ijust was not being careful. Or so I would let him think. In reality, I had hada dream, a dream in which I wrote beautiful poetry on napkins and gave them toour customers. They would read like fortunes and people’s lives would change.

Forinstance, when I thought of Mrs. Robusto’s regular order for chili dogs onChili Dog Wednesday, something like a haiku came to me:

"Whenyou bite me, dear

Youburn your lips. Hot mustard

coatsyour lower teeth."

ThenMr. Rosavsky’s sardines sandwiches:

"Idid not swim in salt for long enough

togrow to my full size

Iwas netted and gutted

thensmoked and drenched in oil

Howdare you! You don’t know what I’ve been through!

Thattomato is an insult."

I wrote with a soft, but sharppencil and when Mr. Rosavsky came I got his napkin ready, stuffed it in his bagalong with the nicely wrapped sandwich. I wondered what he would say when hesaw it.

Butno.

Garlandgrabbed the bag.

Whew.It was just to put the cookie in.

Thenhe winked at me.

Iwondered if he had seen. Of course I wondered what would happen whenSamuel J. Rosavsky the third would read my silly poem about sardines. What ifhe just threw the napkin out?
Justthen Carl Strommer from the Internal Revenue Service came by. “Grilled cheese?”I asked him cheerfully.

Henodded and said, “I wonder if I can get two sandwiches today. I’m pretty hungryand we have a lunch meeting. Also, do you know where I can get a hot chocolate?I usually like to drink one of your cans of lemonade, but I have a scratchythroat and want something warm.”

Nowthat was one problem we had. We did not make hot drinks for our customers. We could barely make a couple of cupsof coffee for ourselves, let alone satisfy the hot beverage traffic. I lookedover at Garland who was starting in on the sandwiches and told Carl, “If youstop by that cart over there, they have hot coffee. They might have cocoa ortea” I pointed with my elbow to a small cart a few feet away from us, the onerun by the Gunderson twins: Big Julie and Chuckie.

QuicklyI scribbled:

"thechill hurts my throat.

mycry for cocoa, almost unheard

ifall the world was steam and smoke

Iwould be happy."

Ihad just enough time to finish it and stuff it in the bag without Garlandseeing when he handed me the grilled cheese to give to Carl. Carl came backfrom the Gunderson cart with a small styrofoam cup. He did not look happy.

“Igot some hot water,” he said glumly.

Ifelt so sorry for him, I handed him a packet of lemon juice we sometimes gavecustomers who ordered our fried calamari buns on Fish Fridays. I told him itmight help soothe his throat. Helooked like it was the nices thing that anyone had ever done for him.

“So,”said Garland, “What are you putting in those bags? Menus, I hope.”

“Don’tbe a kidder, Garland. I’m not putting anything in them.”

“Isaw you, Vera. Don’t lie to me.”

Ifaced him directly and said, “Poetry.”

“Poetry?”

Ifelt defiant, as if I were thirteen years old and had been caught climbing thetree in the neighbor’s back yard so I could get their apples from the tallestbranch. And they would catch me and I would say, “I wasn’t doing nothing!”

“Isit a crime to write poetry? What are we? In Stalinist Russia?”

“No,but what if these guys don’t like it? I don’t want to drive customers away.”

Vera confided in me

2011-11-07T12:11:00.002-06:00

My protagonist Vera confided in me last night as I was leaving the KanMoWriCo Write-In. She whispered that she was so afraid that if I told her true story, I would break my own heart in the telling.
No. That's a lie.
What Vera is worried about is that I won't do her story justice. That I won't be able to tell it, only report it. What I am worried about is that I will want to report, but also embellish and then I worry that if I embellish, it's not the truth.

But the truth of it is, it's a novel. It's my novel. Vera's story is my story, and I can tell it any way I want to.

P.S. KanMoWriCo is Kansas City, MO. & Kansas City, KS participants (and environs) of NaNoWriMo. This is not an official NaNoWriMo site, and the content has not been reviewed by National Novel Writing Month. For more information on National Novel Writing Month, visit www.nanowrimo.org.

P.P.S. If you think that a protagonist can NOT whisper in your ear, think again.

Vera Hates Me

2011-11-06T09:39:00.001-06:00

It's back to standard time and my protagonist, Vera doesn't care that we gain an hour. She is right now resisting all my cajoling and threats. I want her to spill the beans on what really happened. I want her to trust me.
But of course I'm a writer and want someone to read what I write.
No wonder Vera hates my guts.
But then I went and visited Now About Music and listened to the tracks about time. The author of the post is so perceptive and truly gets what music is all about. And time.
I wonder if I can calm Vera down and bring her out of her shell with a little drop of music...

With Closed Fist: Growing Up in Canada's Toughest Neighborhood

2011-11-03T21:13:00.002-05:00

but the best news is that my friend, Kathy Dobson is launching her book tomorrow at St Columba House in Montreal. Her book, which I have not read, but am eagerly awaiting is called With Closed Fist: Growing Up in Canada's Toughest Neighborhood. A review of the book has created some controversy and bullies were evidently threatening the release event. But St. Columba is holding fast and I trust it will be wonderful.
Kathy is a smart and compassionate woman. I love that as a journalist she's been able to report on events and situations in which she is thoroughly engaged. I love that she will be able to turn her talent to a story that needs to be told.

Excerpt & 2600+

2011-11-02T10:20:00.002-05:00

Here's an excerpt from the first or second chapter. As you can see it's very rough.

Vera awakened at the nightmare hour: a short time after four in the morning and well before the eastern sky would gray itself awake. She could feel the leaden, lowering sky in her head. A shrill bark from a neighbor’s dog pierced her brain and seemed to draw a raging force through her left temple.
She hadn’t had that much wine, had she?

Thirty days to a new Vera and already she had to call in sick with a migraine. Lucky Kay would understand because she got them herself. Vera rolled herself gently to the edge of the bed, trying not to move her head. No good. Her stomach began to push waves up through her throat. Toilet. Now.

She made it, retched and sank to the floor as the pain in her head became volcanic. She felt as if she could not leave the bathroom for any time. She pressed her forehead to the cool tile floor as tears squeezed out of her eyes and her sinuses swelled. Nothing was going right. The unforgettable images of the bad movie that was her life kept scrolling through her thoughts: the thing that had happened when she was four; how their family moved right after that; how she’d never fit in at any school, or work and finally how the child’s balloon had risen to the ceiling, popped and began to pop all her dreams for the stable, quiet life she craved.
Vera pushed herself up to a sitting position. Her stomach seemed settled for now. She moistened a washcloth with cool water, sprinkled a little lavender onto the cloth and patted her face with it. The scent and chill revived her a little and she went into her kitchen to make some coffee. She used a stovetop Moka for her coffee, and a very dark roast. She was not about to grind any fresh right now, though. Especially when she knew the sound would tear up every cell in her body. Fortunately, she had some she’d ground yesterday. Enough for a double.
While she waited for the coffee, she dialed Kay’s home number. Kay would probably be annoyed, especially if she had a migraine herself. Nothing drew sympathy more than seeing a fellow migraineuse in the throes...

1848

2011-11-01T20:50:00.000-05:00

...with 500 words sort of about snot.

I needed a prompt. I was stalling.

I pulled a pebble out of a bag. Yeah, I know it was probably some kind of quartz thing, but it had that milky, pearlescent quality of a big dab of mucus.

In the story, wailing child = snot.

Got at least 500 words out of it.

Off to a good start with some back story on the protagonist.

Pre-NaNo Warm-up

2011-10-31T17:19:00.004-05:00

Vera Kalman is working on the food truck Destiny's Sammies when an inspiration comes to her. As she writes it it gets lodged in between in the sandwich Samuel Rosavsky III has ordered (skinless & boneless sardines mashed with a little mayo & mustard, tomato, lettuce, onion between two slices of lightly toasted rye). She has to follow him in order to get it back, and if she does, will she still have her job with Destiny?

Will she still want it?
What was on that piece of paper?
Was it a menu?

Rice and beans. Hot sauce
The green kind: habanero
Tortilla. Eggs. Grits.

Tzatziki. Hummus.
Kotopoulo patates.
Baklava. Kafe.

Ground chuck for chili,
Meatloaf with barbecue sauce
Vegan nut loaf too.

Sunrise

2011-10-29T05:07:00.001-05:00

Between clouds, sunrise
pouring warm waves of butter.
Words make me hungry.

National Novel Writing Month 2011

2011-10-23T14:05:00.000-05:00

National Novel Writing Month is coming up in just 8.5 days.
About a month ago, I was feeling so-so...like: do I want to do it? What am I going to write? Last year's novel was full of gruesome stuff...what do I want to do to challenge myself this year, if anything?
And since I seem to be writing lots of poetry, why should I write a novel?
Then I started reading the NaNoWriMo local forum. Friends are getting excited about it, and it's just catchy. Like the flu (by the way, did you get your shot yet?).
So I'm looking for ideas for my NaNo novel.

(1) Poet drives a food truck by day, burns food while distractedly writing about the beauty of her/his cuisine...offers poems to patrons. Becomes a hit with the local foodies.

(2) Food truck driver/chef/poet while playing in a big pile of leaves with her nephew (or niece) uncovers a dead body. Yuck. She knows who it is and hijinks ensue as she is suspected and has to clear her name. She names her food truck: Bug Juice and Mystery Meat. Becomes a hit with the local foodies.

(3) Food truck driver/chef realizes her special sauce induces a trance state. She sends her astral body all over the universe to get new recipes.

(4) ~~Food truck driver/chef~~ Protagonist ~~suddenly finds herself in charge of a non-profit agency when the director promotes her~~ just before dying of something that kills quickly and relatively painlessly, but it's a disease, so don't get all suspicious. ~~Protagonist (P. for short) has to lead a ragtag team of misfits to accomplish great things all the while doubting herself.~~

oh good grief. I'll just start writing and see what happens.

Only a test

2011-10-05T20:26:00.001-05:00

Hello.
A test.
Get me to Facebook, pronto.

Shanah Tovah! It's wrestling time!

2011-10-05T17:19:00.002-05:00

I have just started teaching at my synagogue, Kol Ami.This teaching thing is a volunteer deal (I could get a break on synagogue membership, but the synagogue needs the money more), but will give me experience and get me back into doing something I loved...oh about 9 years ago.It will also help me hone my own views about god, gods, no-god etc. And I find teaching Bible stories a good way to let people know that there are more than one way to see things. Unlike most Conservative and Orthodox Jews, I do not believe that the words of the Torah are set in stone (so to speak), but whatever's there that has shaped the lives of Jews throughout the ages is important to read, to learn so that we can keep engaging with the concepts.

I find that I cannot and do not want to escape it: I am Jewish. For good or ill, it's a large part of what shapes me...especially since when I was younger and wanted to know more, my family kept me in the dark (Mom: we can't afford to send you to religious school or synagogue; Grandpa: we'll send your brother, but not you, because it's not for girls).

Therefore, it's tied to my identity as woman, because, who are they to deny me what I want to know? And to my life as a librarian, because I believe everyone should have access to the knowledge they desire.Because when you know stuff, you enrich yourself in ways that can never be taken from you.

A Pintele Yid

2011-10-05T17:19:00.001-05:00

A period of 'introspection' begins for the Jewish people - NBCActionNews.com - Kansas City

2011-09-29T13:30:00.000-05:00

A period of 'introspection' begins for the Jewish people - NBCActionNews.com - Kansas City

That's my congregation! That's our choir singing there!
Shanah Tovah everyone! And may it be a sweet one as we move forward!

Teshuvah

2011-09-17T13:30:00.000-05:00

I long to return
I am starting to return
I am returning
I am here.

See, It's Difficult...

2011-09-15T14:45:00.000-05:00

I was going to put the title of "See, It's Hard," but I was afraid of some snarkmeister saying, "That's what she said..."
It is much more difficult writing humor than non-fiction or the serious observations about my life. But for a taste of something really humorous (humourous if you're reading in Canada), please visit Donna Louise.She's incredibly snarky and on target with her observations.
She's like a splash of good iced tea with lemon. No sweetener needed.
I especially liked this post written on the anniversary of September 11th. Thanks to Donna Louise, I might just get a bumper sticker for my car this election season...One that won't ire up my neighbors.

Pioneer

2011-09-11T14:07:00.000-05:00

Brent Allard's poem, Pioneer

says much of what I feel...if I've read it correctly. A good poem to read today.

Ten Years After: E Pluribus...no longer one

2011-09-11T09:03:00.003-05:00

Today is almost as pretty a day as it was back then. It's warmer, more humid and the sky is...sky blue instead of being azure or deep turquoise, the way it was that crisp September morning.
What is the correct thing to do today? I awakened from disturbing and energetic dreams this morning at 7:43 AM Central time.

I got up and made coffee. Fed the cat and thought about it. The elephant in the room. The elephant in the country.
Maybe that's it. Blame Republicans.
Anyway...
Here's the link to Google's blog about it.

This is the link to my last post about it: E Pluribus Unum.

The nation is more divided than ever. Last night, I even dreamed about it...how the media can't ever say anything positive about President Obama and how the Tea Party and the ultra-conservatives and fringe groups seem to part us from our sensible middle way.

The Cruelest

2011-09-06T17:18:00.003-05:00

I'm still working on this one:

The Cruelest

It turns on you
slaps your face with
rough cut diamonds
your blood is sweet
as it flows in ribbons
toward a heaving, gray
ocean,
filled with flotsam
and jetsam

you will wash up on shore
drained
dizzy
crusted over with wounds
your heart, scored with gutters

the first person you see
you have to ask:
Where am I?
How do I get there?
When she points to the map of scars
over your skin,
you have no choice,
and there’s a ragged, “oh no,
not again” on your lips.

you find the tool
where you left it, soldered to your hand
wired to the soft part of your brain
so you can begin the
whole damn thing
over again.

JibJab Media Launches JibJab Jr!!!!

2011-08-30T19:46:00.000-05:00

Quite possibly the most anticipated literary event in my household: JibJab Media is releasing their first children's book, The Biggest Pizza Ever. It's an electronic book, designed for the iPad and it features JibJab's "Starring You" technology, so you can customize it with your child's photograph!

Also, the author of this first ebook, Scott Emmons is one of the wittiest poets you'll ever read.

And the love of my life!

The 40 Year Old Virgin Housewife: Can We Hit 1000 Pageviews In a Month?

2011-08-29T11:50:00.000-05:00

Just helping out my friend Becky...she's a good writer and a superb human being. Read her blog!

The 40 Year Old Virgin Housewife: Can We Hit 1000 Pageviews In a Month?: Hey Friends,

I began this blog on July 29, 2011, one month ago tomorrow. I just checked the stats and we're already up to 923 pageviews!...

We'll Miss You Steve Jobs

2011-08-26T14:51:00.000-05:00

I'm a Mac person and have been, since about...1984.

Morning

2011-08-24T08:45:00.000-05:00

Air and sky dark, still.

Wearing spider’s sticky strands

this morning, I walk.

Writing a Post Every Day...

2011-08-23T17:37:00.000-05:00

...is more difficult than I thought it would be.

I would much rather just play online than do actual work.
See I'm not even thinking. I just thought I'd put up a picture from our trip to Maui this past June. Which shows my son, snorkeling.
Snorkeling was easy compared to blogging.
This is not even poetry.

Doldrums

2011-08-22T09:51:00.000-05:00

They should be over by now, the summer doldrums. It's only occurring to me at this point in my life that I need to push myself out of them. They won't go away on their own.

It's like I have to pass through them at least once every spin around the sun.

I need to row. Hard.

I was, you know, busy

2011-08-20T21:05:00.000-05:00

With survival
when the power went out,
adrenaline came on.

With purpose I pointed
the beam of the flashlight
and tiptoed to the basement.

No, it was not overloaded circuits.
I knew that.
The boom and flash that tore holes in the sky
The deafening sheets of rain
That's what kept me from writing

to you all.

In daylight, much later
"Hello, do you have power?"
from everyone I met.
And that sense of envy when I would overhear
"Oh yes, the lights just flickered a bit."
And the sense of dread:
what would I find when I returned home?
Slimy petrie dish of a refrigerator?
Heat and the still air, a stifling blanket,
reminder of my powerlessness?

That is why I did not write
Until now.

Zeugma

2011-08-18T13:35:00.001-05:00

A Z word! Zeugma.
I am using an actual ink-on-paper dictionary, Webster's 9th, which my spouse & I purchased for one another in 1988.
zeugma (from the Greek lit., joining, and related to the word yoke: the use of of a word to modify or govern two or more words usually in such a manner that it applies to each in a different sense or makes sense with only one.
For example: ".. opened the door and my heart to homeless boy..." this from the dictionary, (but I think it's more an example of Syllepsis).
My example: "She gave her heart to Jethro and her body to the whole damn world," Tom T. Hall.
Wikipedia has a much more detailed analysis here.

Front Yard Haiku

2011-08-17T12:59:00.000-05:00

I long for bright weeds,

splash of color here and there.

Front yard is too green.

Road Trip: Omaha's Got Art!

2011-08-16T12:46:00.001-05:00

In Omaha, we had originally planned to go to the Henry Doorly Zoo, especially to visit the Scott Aquarium. But we got there kind of later than we had planned.

We had lunch at King Kong Gyros & Burgers across the street from the Zoo/Rosenblatt Stadium and then decided to go to the Joslyn Art Museum.

At the Joslyn we saw some incredible things...

I think I can link to this specific painting...I sent a request for permission to do so but have not heard back yet. I'll take the link down if I am told I can't but since this blog is not for profit, I can't imagine what problems I'll have with it. It's Makovsky's Russian Beauty and Cat. I thought it was stunning, the way the artist painted light into just about every pearl, on the fabric, on her face and on the cat's face. You will have to go there to see the painting itself and enjoy all the details up close.

There was also a Chihuly installation in the atrium between the modern pieces and the older ones.

Our visit was so short. I really wished I'd had more time there.

Road Trip: Long Way Around

2011-08-14T15:21:00.001-05:00

We took a short road trip to Omaha this weekend. We had time constraints although I had requested Saturday and Sunday off. We knew that Omaha was a short trip north along the beautiful Missouri River.
What we hadn't counted on was the beautiful Big Muddy's floodwater being all over the highway and well, we had to take the long way around. Interstate 29 was closed north of Rock Port, and highways west of there were under water.
To me it was amazing, that with the record heat we'd had, the river hadn't gone down below flood stage in some places.

We did not mind the detours. We got to see some pretty farmland in western Missouri and Iowa, where the gently contoured terraces of crops were dotted with eerily beautiful wind turbines. That got us curious about wind turbines in general. How would you maintain them? Would you have to lift someone by helicopter or crane (or jet pack) in order to fix a broken turbine? The following video will help elucidate those eager to know:

My Excuse

2011-08-12T04:55:00.000-05:00

I forgot to post
Yesterday
When warm, sweet winds
and tolerable temperatures
relaxed me.

I took a long drive
Somewhere
I had never been before
A little lake sparkled
bewitched me

When I came home
Much later
My brain grasped for words
that until today
eluded me.

Jet Packs vs. Broomsticks: Are We at the Crossroads?

2011-08-10T12:52:00.000-05:00

I have been thinking about jet packs a lot these days. This may be because it's been a hot, boring summer and I have time on my hands and lots of empty space in my brain once I finished rereading Harry Potter prior to seeing the final movie. In any event, Harry Potter can fly on a broomstick or thestral or hippogriff. He might choose to Apparate/Disapparate, take a Portkey or use the Floo Network. Evidently certain really advanced wizards can also fly without broomsticks.

All this has made me pretty envious in a wistful, slacker sort of way. Thus the problem of jet packs. Are they supposed to be the broomsticks of our time or something else? In any event, we don't have them yet.

If we did have them--my spouse and I were discussing this today--there might be insurmountable problems:
1) How far could you go before having to come back and refuel?
2) Could you achieve airplane-like speed and height? Probably not unless you were wearing a spacesuit and what would be the fun of that?
3) What about the traffic problems? If you and your neighbors all had jet packs, it could make flying as time consuming as driving in some places. Could you cut across some open space to make time, only to bump into someone headed in the opposite direction? In other words, how regulated would jet pack travel have to be?
4) What would be the aim? Would you want to be able to travel at low heights (above the average suburban treeline, say) just to get around without a car or bike?
5) Would you want to be able to use your jet pack to lift you to say, a mountain top without having had to climb it? Some would say what's the fun of that--but what if you were on a rescue mission? I think jet packs would be great for rescue missions in the mountains. But you'd have to carry oxygen, supplies and more oxygen for whoever you are rescuing.

Back to the drawing board...

Hold the Presses: Newspaper Movie Critic Lives!!!

2011-08-09T17:39:00.000-05:00

Robert Butler is alive and well but he's no longer writing for the Kansas City Star.
Although I miss reading him in the Star, I'm glad I get to read his blog--sometimes twice a day. I'm thrilled that he's writing about what he wants to see and not every big screen big movie that comes along. I agree wholeheartedly with Butler that it's not about the 8 bucks or whatever it costs to see a movie these days--it's about the time.

I also sometimes suspected that Butler was a little easier on some movies than he would have been given free rein. I am probably wrong, but I'm enjoying reading him so much more these days.

Haiku is gaining...

2011-08-07T22:56:00.002-05:00

I've just noticed that in my Cloud, Haiku is overtaking Librarianship as a tag.
Poetry wins out every time.

To Live and Write in Kansas City...and environs...part one

2011-08-07T17:04:00.000-05:00

I recently joined The Kansas City Writers Group.

It wasn't until the end of the spring semester and now, during the summer that I got the courage up to submit my poetry for critiquing.

I am so glad I did! For one thing, others catch things that I will have missed and the good feedback from the group proves to me that I have something worth working on.

Testing...

2011-08-07T11:12:00.002-05:00

testing...testing

Sleeping Beauty

2011-08-06T23:14:00.002-05:00

Roses close the castle
Thorns scale the walls
As day becomes night
For a hundred years...

Once I loved...

2011-08-05T20:58:00.000-05:00

Astrud Gilberto, singing Antonio Carl Jobim's classic:

I don't know why. It's beautiful music, that's all.

Word that I like

2011-08-04T14:20:00.001-05:00

Lately, it's a word that neither begins nor ends with Z.

It's SALMAGUNDI.I just like the sound of it.

salmagundi!
salmagundi!

Midsummer Sorrow

2011-08-03T10:02:00.001-05:00

I often get really depressed in the middle of the summer. It wasn’t until I did some work in therapy that I began to relate events from my earliest years to who am I today.
My brother was born in the summer and for the content 2-year old girl that I was, it meant the beginning of the end.

The end of my mother’s love and care for me.

Some of my earliest memories involve me holding a turquoise-colored plastic or rubber bowl filled with urine-soaked diapers. I remember the smell. I remember the heat. I remember the crying of my new little brother.

I remember being yelled at for something having to do with my brother and then going away.

Yes.

That’s what my depression was: going away because the reality of my life was too painful. That’s what happens when it’s too painful now, as well. Yet, I had to exist. The pull to survive was very strong. So I pushed away all my 2-year old neediness and became helpful and quiet instead.

Now you may wonder, wasn’t there a father here to balance the mother’s consuming need to care for her newborn?

Well, at that point in time, my mother and father were separating. My father stayed around to help out, but his help consisted of molesting me.

I know these things, so when I become depressed in the heat of the summer now, I let it wash over me and try to calmly observe the connection. Sometimes an event triggers it.In my hormonal youth, a summer occurrence of PMS would always overwhelm me with grief. Most lately it has had to with travel and dislocation; the loss of personal space while we've had visitors and work has been done on the house.

But it's August. I can see autumn on the horizon, and a return to myself.

Grindbone

2011-08-02T19:43:00.000-05:00

I'd like to draw your attention to Grindbone, a blog written by 3 excellent and very different authors.
I was made aware of it, especially of the contributions of Brent Allardby my friend Jasilandia.
Both great and I'd write more but I have to pick my son up from work.

What I'm Reading

2011-08-01T19:50:00.000-05:00

I have a Barnes & Noble Nook Color and I love it! It's got wifi...but not 3 or 4G, but that's okay. It has me reading more. Best of all, with the Nook, I can download FREE books from the library or Project Gutenberg.
So this is what I'm reading lately:
Cold-Blooded Kindness by Barbara Oakley.Actually I've borrowed my husband's Kindle to read it. And I'm reading it because the subject of the book was someone my spouse was very close to at one time. And she stayed at our house with her now-dead husband. Whom she murdered. So it's an interesting read for a number of reasons.

Also, I'm reading on my Nook: Louise Penny's Fatal Grace, the second in the Armand Gamache series. While I find the lovely town of Three Pines a little too cozy, the twists and turns in the mystery are very intriguing. And the author has such a rich way of describing artwork and poetry as seen by the characters in the book. If only artists could always have such loving attentiveness paid their work!

And I started 20th Century Ghosts by Joe Hill, which I downloaded from among the library's ebooks. I didn't finish it because...I got scared...and then it was due!

I finished Helen Simonson's Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, which was an actual ink-on-paper book, I checked out from the brick-and-mortar library and returned on time. It was beautifully written, the characters just wonderfully drawn. In some ways it was very familiar: clash of cultures, clash of generations, evil business decisions that threaten a traditional way of life in little British town. But through it all, there is the character of the Major...who just blossomed into three-dimensions. Highly recommended!

And...Gary Taubes's Why We Get Fat: And What To Do About It. It's easier to read than his "Good Calories;Bad Calories," that's all I'm saying for now.

Hoc scripsit.

The hot weather; the debt ceiling.

2011-07-31T09:22:00.004-05:00

The heat, the debt ceiling.
Here in the GKC, anticipating temperatures of 102 later on this week...ugh.

But here's a local voice of centrist reason, Henry Bloch, the founder of H & R Block urges Congress to balance increased revenue with lowered spending.

Compare that with the anything-but-centered rants of Tom McClannahan. Should I wish a lack of "entitlement programs" for him when his safety net fails? When, for instance, the Kansas City Star decides to downsize again?

Naaaah...I pay my taxes and I don't mind paying a little more to help my fellow Americans. Even stingy bastards like McClannahan.

Brokenhearted over The New Yorker Magazine...

2011-07-29T17:07:00.005-05:00

I am brokenhearted and furious. Right now I am furious with The New Yorker.
Mostly I am furious that some old, famous poet, still alive and probably still able to write beautiful verse had something so second-rate published in the July 11th edition of the New Yorker Magazine.

This is Frederick Seidel, born in 1936 in St. Louis and now living in NYC, winner of the 1999 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. I'm not thinking of the content of his poems. This article in the currently available New York Times shows you the power of his writing. And it illuminates some of the controversy surrounding his work.

It's just that the selection in that issue of the New Yorker...is so pathetic. Ah...here's a blog that posts the poem: Before Air-Conditioning.

What don't I like about it? It seems unpolished. Maybe the author was going for a kind of child-like rhythm and rhyme. I just feel it seems like something half-worked on. If I sent something like that in to The New Yorker, do you think they would publish it? No way. It would be rejected out of hand.

So it's not Frederick Seidel that I have a beef with. It's the New Yorker. I no longer consider the New Yorker to be an arbiter of literary taste.

Now this is almost as bad as becoming disillusioned about my parents, the end of innocence, so to speak. I love the New Yorker. When Hendrik Hertzberg defended the magazine's editorial choices against conservative critics, my heart swelled with pride. This is what it meant to be thoughtful and liberal and intellectual. This is what freedom of the press was all about. This was a magazine I had been reading my whole life: from my childhood, paging through the cartoons whose meaning I barely understood, to my adulthood: reading for instruction, pleasure and a sense that people of like mind were reading along with me. I had the sense that editors who understood me and my fellows carefully selected articles, stories and poetry for us...with only occasional missteps. And these missteps I took to be--oh it's just not my style or taste--and therefore excusable every once in a while.

But now I just think...why bother even thinking about the magazine as a venue for the young and talented, when its poetry selections are just aimed at mid-level mediocrity. Thus I am left disillusioned and brokenhearted. I will quote Shakespeare, his 87th Sonnet:
Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate,
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing:
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thy self thou gav'st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me to whom thou gav'st it, else mistaking,
So thy great gift upon misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better judgement making.
Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter,
In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.

No Library? Know Peace!

2011-07-28T20:33:00.007-05:00

It was a little over a year ago that I quit my hyper-responsible job at a public library.
I had been a manager, thinking I was supposed to do that and suffered greatly because I did not do it right.
And I couldn't figure out how to get from there to somewhere where I would be one of those epic, cool, bloggerific librarians.

Well the truth of the matter is, I liked being a librarian. I hated being a manager. I think ultimately it's sad that public libraries have to cull from their MLS/MLIS personnel to staff managerial positions -- as if being a manager is a reward!

I guess it's a reward only to those managerial types. Like most of the administration.

I did not like supervising, writing performance appraisals, having to be so freaking careful about everything I said. And I hated being micromanaged by my supervisor and her supervisor.

I am nowhere near librarianship now and honestly, today I don't care.
Really. The skill set transfers, you know.
I have more time to be my bloggerific own self.
How do I spend my days? I work part-time as a receptionist at my community center. I manage my household and I figure I'm my son's case manager.

And I write. I write poetry and prose.

In fact to the world of try-to-get-ahead librarianship, I have this to say:

Sylvia Comics

2011-07-28T08:50:00.002-05:00

Do you remember Nicole Hollander's Sylvia Comics? My favorite character was The Woman Who Does [Everything More Beautifully Than You].

Anyway, I subscribe to Hollander's Bad Girl Chats and life is so much better!

Custardy Agreement

2011-07-27T19:29:00.002-05:00

I always thought the word "custody" sounded like "custardy," so if you got custody, well, what kind? Chocolate? Coconut?

How to succeed...

2011-07-26T15:48:00.004-05:00

So, I think about what success means.
I used to think it meant: a confident woman in business attire. And not just you know, a knit pantsuit, but something tasteful and tailored.
And carrying a leather briefcase.
Maybe this woman had leather lingerie too. I don't know. It was never me.

Nevertheless, I think about success: aiming for a goal and achieving it. And thus I find this article from the Harvard Business Review blog. I especially like what Halvorson writes here:

5. Focus on getting better, rather than being good. Believing you have the ability to reach your goals is important, but so is believing you can get the ability. Many of us believe that our intelligence, our personality, and our physical aptitudes are fixed — that no matter what we do, we won't improve. As a result, we focus on goals that are all about proving ourselves, rather than developing and acquiring new skills.

It's nice to think that we can develop new skills in life. I'm going to assume I can apply this to my just-blossoming writing career. And you know I'm a writer because I don't want to wear that business suit!

2 Haiku

2011-07-25T21:08:00.002-05:00

1) Dinner Haiku

Empty stomach growls

So weak with inanition

Hollering for food!

2) MetaHaiku

How I love haiku!

Compact verse, pointed few words

voicing large stories.

Pure awesome

2011-07-25T08:13:00.001-05:00

No Hormones? Know Peace

2011-07-24T11:14:00.005-05:00

One of the most significant events for me has been menopause.
Before the Pause, I went through the Peri...wondering: do I get a signal, some official sign that it’s all going to stop? What are hot flashes like?

Little did I know the Peri is the signal. And it can last for years.

I won't bore you with how much I suffered with hot flashes or mood swings or memory problems. If you're a woman and you're reading this, and you're in good health, you'll get there sister. Oh yes!

I will however tell you what awaits on the other side:
No more cramps. No more monthly bleeding. Hardly any hormonal headaches. That's because you have hardly any of those handy hormones left. No more estrogen! None. Zip. Zero.

And that's where the peace comes in. I look at how much I was tormented by my libido: the crushes, the affairs (uh-oh, you didn't read this!), the inappropriate anger and jealousy over what?

Well, all those sex hormones are gone, gone, gone. I have to work to spark my libido and with my aging memory, I'll be getting into some sort of fantasy and all of a sudden...pop! the thoughts disappear and I'm thinking of the groceries...or the debt ceiling and then I'm looking at the ceiling and thinking, "We really need to get rid of those cobwebs...'

Without precious estrogen I can get brittle bones and lose protection for my circulatory system--because your cholesterol levels and blood pressure go up when estrogen goes away.

It's as if Nature is saying, "No more egg production? What good are you? Die, crone, die!!!"
And there are days when I think, "Yeah. I've had it. Goodbye cruel world in which I'm never going to be as hot and sexy as I once was!" (as if!)

But then, a friend of mine, who's been on the other side for many years now and is still alive, reminds me of all the good things and about living each day as it comes.

Ah the hell with it. I'm going to talk to my doctor about hormone replacement therapy.* I want my body back!

*hormone therapy is not without risks, though...

Who? How?

2011-07-24T08:24:00.002-05:00

A blog post a day. I almost wrote "blob." Because that's the way I feel.

The Opposite of Shiny

2011-06-19T16:32:00.003-05:00

Blackened cast iron
Tarry ashes piled within
Radiantly warm.

So now what?

2011-05-26T17:02:00.002-05:00

Rapture didn't happen, but I'm Jewish and I don't believe in the second (or first) coming. If there is God, She is bigger than any religion or creed.

Advance Notice! Kathy Dobson & Internet Friendship

2011-05-10T13:59:00.004-05:00

I want to promote my friend's book: With a Closed Fist: Growing up in Canada’s Toughest Neighbourhood. Kathy Dobson, the author is a journalist with the Toronto Globe and Mail.

How do I know Kathy? She's in Canada and I'm...well, I'm in the suburbs of Kansas City.

The Internet. We met nearly 8 years ago on a public forum--in a way that must be so familiar to Internet natives: you join a site and before you know it, you meet people who have similar points of view and interests. They have friends. Suddenly you have more Internet friends than you ever thought possible.

Then gradually you deem it safe to meet IRL. Some of your younger friends have done it...as long as you take precautions how dangerous can it be?

But the biggest worries are: will they like me in real life? Online we communicate in bursts. Sometimes one of us has a lengthy post, sometimes we PM each other. What if the conversation flags?

I remember how skittish we were about putting our faces up as avatars on the forum. But little by little as we were assured that it enhanced our relationships, we got bolder and bolder.

Online we have celebrated births and birthdays, anniversaries, bar mitzvahs, weddings. We have grieved with one another, comforting as best we can when when one of us experiences illness and death.

It's both amazing and deeply wonderful (and I'm just a boomer, what do I know?) how deeply felt are our loyalties to one another.

I know very few people read this blog (must do something about that!), but I wanted to do my small part for promoting Kathy's book.

Post NaNo Doldrums

2010-12-07T15:44:00.002-06:00

Happy Hanukkah, a Blessed Yuletide and Merry Christmas to all reading this...

Help.

I finished my NaNo novel this year at a record (for me) 62,019 words (okay, NaNo's word counters shaved 3 words off, but still...) and I was pretty happy with it and anxious to work on it some more.

Truly, I was anxious to work on it some more. I did not think, "Once more a pile of dreck in 50,000 words!"

I thought, here's something I could work with.

I am doing anything but working on it.

For instance, right now I'm blogging.

Earlier today I was making a deposit, paying bills and running errands. Anything but writing.

So, if you are a writer and you have any suggestions about how to apply that darn chair glue and sit and write now that the month of November is over, please let me know.

LOST: Flawed TV show unfriendly to gays & women

2010-10-26T07:14:00.008-05:00

I've spent the last few months watching Lost via Netflix and while I was hooked because of the exotic setting, the cliffhangers and the moral ambiguity of some of the characters, I feel there are a couple of things I need to say. In criticism, not of the unanswered questions but because despite this show's popularity and intensity, it failed to touch me on a personal level. In fact, it annoyed me, really annoyed me.

I'm not even going to warn you about all the spoilers here. Who cares?

First off, in an enlightened world, you would think that there might be some gay characters in the drama. Yes. There's one, Tom Friendly, but he's a villain at the outset and you only learn about it offhandedly when he tells Kate she's not his type and then later he kisses a man. That's it. That's all we have for the one gay character.

And he's killed! No chance for redemption. 'Bye gay character. You could have been a contender instead of belittled and dead, which is what you were.

As for women: Kate was a great character. But I wish Kate had looked a little less good in jeans, you know what I mean? This was network television which means the viewers need eye candy and so do the sponsors.

In fact, every time one of the women characters, from Kate to the forgettable Zoe, they've either got cleavage or cling to their bodies. Rose Nadler wears loose, drapey, comfortable-looking clothing. Is that because she's a bit overweight or older? Does she not have to exude sexuality because she's the Island's mystic for a while? And she's married. What does that say about sexuality? You get married and you don't have to be sexual?

What a relief--you don't have to shake your thing once you've got a ring on it!

While we're on the subject: tokenism. Once the black cast members, Michael and Walt leave and Rose and Bernard kind of fade to the background, they're not important they're not there there every week. And by the way, is Bernard Nadler Jewish? We don't know. Anyone who dies on the Island is buried with a cross. Churches and other religious and mystical symbols seem to play an important role in Lost. And it's not until the finale that we get to be in a church that seems to have lots of religious symbols from the Muslim Star & Crescent to the Magen David of Judaism.

Which brings me back to more stereotyping: good mothers and evil mothers.

Good mothers: Claire, Kate, Sun, Cassidy--all eye-candy.

Evil mothers:

--Jacob & Man-in-black's adopted mother (she kills their mother, deceives them about their nature and is just icky) played by the remarkable actress Alison Janney--who is magnetic and watchable, but not "sexy." I love that she speaks Latin with the boys' real mother.

--Eloise Hawking: Not only do we encounter her mostly aged, but she kills her own son--tries to kill his soul by making him put aside his music and then shoots him some time in one of the time traveling sequences. At least she had an affair with Charles Widmore, the wicked thing!

--James Ford's mother has an affair with the con artist Anthony Cooper. Of course she's killed and her son is affected by it for the rest of his life.

--Shannon & Boone's stepmother. Ugh.

By the way, the Boone & Shannon thing...they're half-siblings and it's pretty sticky.

The "good" mothers are all in peril. They either lose their lives & babies on the Island due to some weird disease, or they lose their lives & babies due to the Others kidnapping and killing them. The "evil" mothers by the way, have immense power and they do the killing.

Maybe this would be fine if it weren't Hollywood men writing the story. Maybe I, as a complicated, morally ambiguous female human might feel that I could empathize with some of the characters. Well, I did with Rose--because she loves her Bernard and they grow old together and they just live their lives.

You know, although I believe there's an awful lot of good writing on HBO, I'm glad Lost was NOT an HBO production. You think Lost's sadomasochism soft-porn was bad? Think of what it would look like with full frontal nudity--or mostly female frontal nudity. Think it was frightening when Kate, captive, had to put on that dress and break rocks in front of leering men? What about any time Sayid has to torture someone? Think of that under HBO or Showtime.

Just sickening.

In the final analysis, it's women's bodies (oh yeah, there's plenty of masculine eye candy too for those who like that sort of thing)--or the symbolism of women's bodies being used to sell a TV show and therefore advertising.

For excellent and angry critique of the abuse and exploitation of women, I urge you to read this great blog by NineDeuce: Rage Against the Man-chine. I don't know if there's a post about Lost. In any event, I might just swear off TV.

Owl City!!

2010-09-12T09:30:00.003-05:00

This is a picture of a Barred Owl in our backyard a few mornings ago. I shared this on Facebook and heard from a friend who lives a couple of miles away in the same town that she has one too in her neighborhood. We wonder if they're the same since, a Barred Owl can evidently cover lots of territory.

I understand that they are pretty aggressive in claiming territory and are pushing away the Spotted Owl in the west. My regrets, but I do not know if we can blame humans entirely on this, especially if it's in an owl's nature to compete for hunting territory.

E Pluribus Unum

2010-09-07T09:17:00.009-05:00

Like so many others, I want to write about my memory of that day 9 years ago, a Tuesday, beautiful and sunny, cool, clear and full of blue-sky promises. If you were a student, you'd have felt you'd pass any quiz that morning. If you were just out walking your dog, you and your pooch would have frisked and run, not just walked.

If you had leukemia and had to have a bone marrow biopsy, well that might very well be the worst thing that you could anticipate, but such a beautiful merry day might presage healing and hope.

My husband has Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia (CML). He had been diagnosed in January 2001. By June he had become severely depressed from his treatments (Interferon & Ara-C, the standard at the time). His doctor decided to prescribe Gleevec, a drug that targets the specific cancer-causing mechanism in CML. His first dose was on June 30th, if I recall correctly and we were visiting St. Louis. Within a short period of time, his mood and energy level improved. He was due for a bone marrow aspiration and biopsy on September 11th, 2001 and a week after that we'd see if it was the new medicine working or just not suffering the debilitating effects of Interferon and chemo.

So the worst thing I expected, that day, was to hold his hand while the med techs punctured his hip bone and drew bloody, viscous samples of his bone and bone marrow. I anticipated my husband's pain and that was it. Soon, soon I hoped, we'd hear that his disease was being defeated.

He met me at the entrance to the KU Med Cancer Center (it was on the hospital's main campus at the time) with the words, "There's been an attack!" I said, "what, the Palestinians and Israelis? They're at it again?" because that seemed reasonable to me.

My husband said no, they'd attacked the World Trade Center...and we went to the waiting room and were riveted to a small television. There were the words about the attack and then without warning, another plane flew into a building and the buildings collapsed.

The news about the Pentagon. The news about a flight going down in Pennsylvania.

The beautiful September day full of transitory pain and ongoing hope was ruined.

My husband had his bone marrow biopsy. The results showed that the medicine was working. A year after his diagnosis, he was in remission.

This is one story out of many. One memory: September 11, 2001 and my husband's disease are linked forever in my mind. But I have this memory of the day after: I am driving and it is a little overcast. At an intersection, cars are slowing down to hand money to firefighters raising money for bereaved families in New York.

I look at the cars next to me. No one is smiling. No one is putting on makeup. No one is even sipping coffee. We are one in our pain and our awareness of our suffering. We are all there, holding each others' hands while the terrorists ripped at our hearts. The great horror of the attacks drew us closer as a nation for a while.

E pluribus unum.

I vote for Hurley

2010-08-30T12:13:00.007-05:00

I recently learned that a former colleague, X was terminated. I was unhappy to hear that his organization's Upper Management had taken that step and I was further unhappy to hear that X may fight this.

I knew They had been unhappy with X for some time. A long time. I knew X had been unhappy, too.

But here's the thing in an organization that claims to be able to terminate at will: the reams of documentation you need, the support from the Stratosphere (it's chilly up there too) can be daunting. And to get that documentation you need clients and staff to be able to say with certainty: X was doing a lousy job on a specific date. And you have to use specific language: X did not fulfill his duties as a Whatever when he arrived late for meetings 5 times this year. X did not contribute to the Newsletter in a timely way. X does not give or accept feedback to his colleagues in a constructive way.

Ultimately X looks like a blot on the organization.

But what if these complaints have been slightly engineered? What if the meeting times were changed at the last minute and X was in no position to check his Outlook calendar? What if the guidelines and deadlines for the Newsletter were not clear?

What if this had been happening in such a way so that X was completely discouraged from asking questions about how things should happen, so that he could not get honest feedback? What if X had been put in progressively more uncomfortable situations at work, afraid to ask for help and with no one in his corner? What if X had been set up to fail?

What would you think of an organization that operated that way? I wish X had left on his own steam. I am not sure fighting Them and the Stratosphere is going to help. I think this economy is leading more and more organizations to shuck off the employees they think will be a liability, a drag, a drain on precious resources. The shucking process never seems fair to the one who was terminated, and often to onlookers.

Okay, what does this have to do with the title of my post? I have been watching Lost for a while, catching up intensely with the show thanks to Netflix. With interest, I've watched the power struggles between the doctor, Jack--who immediately takes command at the start--and Locke, who by virtue of his wilderness savvy gets some leadership props too. They sort of share command at times.

Anyway, and I don't think there are any spoilers here: it all depends upon who you believe in. Do you believe in Jack's rational and scientific approach? Do you trust his judgment? Do you believe in just letting go and letting Locke do his thing? Who do you follow?

If you believe X's organization is doing what's best for everyone, then X has to go. If you don't, maybe your solution would be to encourage X to find another organization or to start his own. But what makes you make that decision?

If you're Hurley, however, you do your own thing and you just want to be happy and make sure everyone else is okay with it. That's me right now. X, you and me dude, we'll just hang out together, catch some fish, enjoy the sunset.

Later I'll muse more on organizations and what to look for when deciding for whom to work.

Just sayin', dude.

Elephants & Leaving The Circus

2010-08-06T09:11:00.003-05:00

I am not a vegetarian. I like my locally produced, hormone-free & free-range chicken and beef in moderation. And I generally have dissed People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, when I read or hear about extreme tactics. Once I got yelled at for trying to sell my grandmother's fur jacket on an online classified service. This was a zillion years ago, when all we had were campus BBS's and email. The respondent told me I was a killer.

Frankly it pissed me off that some college freshman was insulting me for trying to recycle this moth eaten old jacket. I had not purchased it; my grandmother had given it to me and it did not fit or suit me. It could, however, make someone very happy. For the record, it was Karakul or Persian Lamb, probably crafted in Asia Minor somewhere.

However, here is an article that showcases the best of PETA. The article, by my friend Andre DuBroc is about his decision to leave the circus, specifically Ringling Bros Barnum and Bailey. I think no matter what you think about PETA, or whether you are a vegetarian or not, his story will bring tears to your eyes and make you never want to take yourself or your children to the circus again.

Reading Reptile

2010-07-31T14:40:00.003-05:00

We went to Brookside today and picked up some children's books that I want to send to someone who has just had a baby. The Reading Reptile is the best children's book store in the world. It had been a while since I'd been in the store. I got to tell Pete I'd quit my job and was going to work on my great American YA novel. He suggested, what if I made it about an 8 year old girl--because one of my story ideas involves vampires and werewolves--and there's nothing for tweens about vampires. So they end up reading the stuff aimed at high school readers, like that dreck, Twilight.

Well, it might work. In reworking my NaNoWriMo novel from 2009, I changed it from an adult story to a YA story.

But anyway, I want to say a few really good words about the Reptile. Because if you're in town, I want you to go there. And buy stuff. Not just books, but they have cupcakes now, too. And ~~Pete's,~~ I mean, Albert Bitterman's book is coming out soon. It's a children's book, illustrated by Nobel Peace Prize Winner, Chris Raschka...oh wait, it's not the Nobel Peace Prize he won--it's the Caldecott. But in my not so humble opinion, it's just as good. Maybe even better.

Bill Harley, in his blog, writes about the Reading Reptile, and the sense of both comfort and vitality one can find in the store. Long may it flourish. And the cupcakes are delicious!

Those who support us

2010-07-29T06:54:00.005-05:00

While we're thinking of entering writing competitions, here's a look at classical music competitions. The author reminds us of the time Martha Argerich walked away from a competition in which Ivo Pogorelich was competing. The judges eliminated him but Argerich championed him.

What do we do without those who champion us? Mentor us? Now, Pogorelich is brilliant and there's no question about it, but what would have happened if Argerich had not stood away and stood up for him?

Barbara Sher, the author of Wishcraft: How to get what you really want points out that people who achieve their desires have support: from cheerleaders to naggers to spouses who do the household stuff.

I thought about this as I wrestled our aging cat into his carrier for his annual trip to the vet, thinking all the time, "I'd much rather be writing and reading." I thought about how my spouse had never taken our kitty to the vet--he'd picked him up once, but never had he wrestled him into the carrier, made sure the A/C had been blasting in the car, attempted to soothe the kitty by singing and making small talk.

The point is, I am seamlessly slipping into the role I had when I was "just" a stay-at-home mom: Errand-Runner/Grocery-Getter. And it all takes time--but even when I was working 40-plus hours a week, I served in that role. I would have made the kitty's appointment for some time before or after work, or during a time when I might have had a morning off.

Now how do I get this out of my head?

Salve atque vale, O JCL!

2010-07-18T18:28:00.004-05:00

The Corinth branch of the Johnson County Library is where I've spent my days since February of 2004. I started there in Youth Services and moved up into the world of branch management--which is where I thought my passion should be.

I was wrong. I spent 3 1/2 years spinning my wheels trying to right (my) wrongs and be a good manager. I am not. I could not. And with all the changes lately in the library, I felt I could not even put on my team-player-manager hat with a smile and equilibrium and go out into the branch and say, "Do it this way, it will be good for you."

I am not a leader. Obviously. I'm probably the only person who took the JCL Leadership class and failed. Well, not exactly fail--just did not emerge confident and a "leader."

Ironically, it was the session led by Denise Upah Mills, that gradually led me to make my decision and to understand that being a "leader" is not the only thing in the world to be. I could be happy being a great person on my own and the dedicated follower of a "leader."

I liken it to singing in a choir. Each choir member has her own beautiful voice--or his own beautiful voice. Each one of us sings as best and as beautifully as we can--together. But we do take direction from our conductor. If our conductor can't lead us, we still have our beautiful voices, our appreciation of the music but maybe the piece doesn't come off as perfectly as it might.

Understanding that I have my own beautiful voice, my own talents that I can nurture has been the treasure to me during these rough months of deciding and saying farewell in my heart.

But now I sing it. Or rather I let someone singing under Ned Beatty as Josef Locke:

Farewell!!!!

40 hours a day for what? A rant

2010-07-06T08:07:00.003-05:00

I think it sucks, frankly.

The 40-hour work week. You spend 37.5 to 45 hours in a place that is not your own, with people you might never have chosen to spend all that time with. That is hell, my friends, true hell.

I mean most of us in this work cycle spend more time at work than with the people we love: our family and friends, our support network.

Now, you can love your job. Nice work if you can get it, but I think for the majority of us with many interests, doing any one thing for 40 hours a week is stultifying.

I offer this song:

Something Else

2010-07-02T08:41:00.002-05:00

I have been working for the Johnson County Library for a little over 6 years. It's time for me to move on.

Whether I will still write a library-related blog, I don't know. I may get more personal here in Z Words or I may move it all over to another blog.

All I can think of are the words of that haunting Led Zeppelin song, "Babe, I'm gonna leave you": "...I've really got to ramble
I can hear it callin' me the way it used to do
I can hear it callin' me back home."

For sure, I'll be home some of the time. Life demands that.

2010-01-06T08:14:00.001-06:00

wheee. Something new!

I'm So 2010; You're So 2 thousand and then!

2010-01-02T09:55:00.004-06:00

Hey, welcome to the new year, the new decade. Add the digits, it's a 3 and that's magic.
Just my random thoughts about the new year.
It's got to be better than last year, although if it's worse for some of us, that's what it is.
One day at a time and that will be good enough.
Right now it's -1 F (-18 Celsius) here where I live with the threat of more snow hanging over us. Is that good? Bad?
It is what it is.

Right Wing Propaganda vs the Right to Education

2009-09-08T09:25:00.003-05:00

Editorial in the New York Times rightly criticizing the right wing attacks on our President's addressing the issue of education.
I wonder if this is more of this excess parental hovering--the attitude and behavior that keeps children overscheduled not playing creatively enough--an attitude that will ultimately lower a child's ability to use their mind nimbly enough to learn how to judge information critically.

You want parents to be able to guide their children, but to guide them into not listening to OUR president, whom we elected hands down, no hanging chads about it! That is outrageous.

I want to call on all thinking, reading, examining people to encourage their children, their nieces and nephews to listen to President Obama. Then if you don't like what he's saying, go ahead and disagree, thoughtfully and not by namecalling or stereotyping.

Nile Online

2009-05-27T09:36:00.003-05:00

Nile Online is what I'm addicted to lately, what is taking up all my free time.
My excuse is that it helps me learn about resource allocation, but that's just bull. It's a fun way to spend a few hours or 24.
I trade with my fellow Nile players for resources and worry about whether my monument's safe from bullies and check to see how close I am to immortality.

It's fun in a way to trade resources you don't really have. In Sabah, the test-server for Nile Online, I have immense riches, amounts of material I never thought I'd ever have. Hey, anyone need 20k jewelry for 20k sandals? But in Theoris, the non-test server, I'm just an ordinary playah, with a modicum of material. Still I notice, I'm top of the heap in temple donations. In this economy, it's a pretty cheap way to feel rich.

I was really gung-ho about this game earlier this year. Now, not so much. And it's not like the cities are full of personalities like a Sim City or something. If I let the cities go, the people starve, soldiers dessert and the buildings look like crap. A friend of mine told me that "you need to have something fun in your life," since life is not providing the fun the way it used to. These are tough times and my job at the library seems tougher and much less fun than it ever has.

So here's to Nile Online and harmless geekiness.

Stand By Me

2008-12-12T19:24:00.001-06:00

I won, now what? Forward Motion!

2008-12-12T19:01:00.002-06:00

I won with a slim 50,132 words. This year's story was difficult, because I was trying to make it contemporary fiction rather than all-fantasy.

So reworking it will be a challenge and I've wondered how to go about it. Forward Motion is a writing community. There are classes and challenges. That's one thought.
The other thought is finding a group here, or enrolling in a course.

But do I have what it takes to enter an MFA program for creative writing. Could I do it the way I did library school? Part-time squeezing classes in with family and work obligations? And then what about work obligations? Sometimes work is very demanding.

Right now, for instance. But I'll say no more and get back to work.

NaNoWrimo 2008

2008-11-05T20:06:00.002-06:00

Dang. It's Chick Lit this year.

The working title of this year's NaNo novel is What a Difference a Dave Makes or The No Sugar Added Romance of Carmela Elias.

It's not as frothy as it sounds. Right now it's kind of dark and I have no idea if anyone, but the aforementioned Dave will open up a store and save his life thereby.

It's never too late to join the madness that is National Novel Writing Month.

Please join in the fun and write the great novel you've been dreaming about for ever.

Transformation

2008-11-04T22:14:00.003-06:00

I give thanks I've lived to see the day when we have our first African-American President.
I am grateful for the power of change.

Middle Name

2008-10-24T14:33:00.002-05:00

Obama supporters are adopting Hussein as a middle name, at least informally on places like Facebook.

Now I'm an Obama supporter, but I've never had a middle name. I don't want one now. Is this something like wearing a flag pin? Will I be considered "un-patriotic" if I don't call myself Eri Hussein? You get my drift.

I think it's cute and a cool way for people to recognize each other. A not-so-secret handshake, if you will. That said, I will not add Hussein as a middle name, just for people to recognize me. I think it may be a little insulting to those who are named Hussein by their parents in honor of a relative. According to this article in the NY Times, from way back in June, Obama doesn't mind.
I hope he doesn't mind that I'm not adding a middle name. I like my name the way it is.

Grieving at Work

2008-10-07T14:37:00.004-05:00

It's a rainy, gray, cool day. I had the day off from work and I realize I'm grieving.
My boss is leaving.
I think workplaces don't allow time or space for grieving the changes and loss that come with daily life.

We're supposed to embrace change. Change very often brings loss: a colleague moves up, a supervisor moves away. Often there's a domino effect. A space is opened and another colleague moves into it. That leaves yet another space somewhere. How is any organization supposed to function with such shifts in personnel?

Or perhaps the shifts in personnel lead to new dynamics in the workplace. It's not the same-old same-old anymore. Perhaps a new boss has an agenda that differs from what the old boss had. Perhaps that agenda means everybody get out of your comfort zone!

Peter Hutchinson brings up the Kübler-Ross model for dealing with loss. One of his suggestions in dealing with the Depression Stage is to "provide vision, a picture of the new normal."

I think very often supervisors try, but are not very successful in providing this in a way employees can take to heart. When grief is very deep, the catch phrases of an organizations vision or mission statement can seem hollow.

After all, if they meant something, so & so might not be leaving. Or such & such a decision might not have been made so quickly. If only life in the workplace were more thought fully measured and if only we had the kind of support we might have in our homes, with our friends and families to get our backs.

Paul Newman

2008-09-28T09:46:00.001-05:00

A touching memorial to Paul Newman.

Remember That

2008-09-12T10:44:00.001-05:00

Not generally a fan of country music, but this song has the best message:

Go Jessica Simpson!

Am I Blue?

2008-09-11T20:43:00.003-05:00

Yes.
Until the election, my blog is blue.

Lipstick is the only difference

2008-09-11T20:33:00.002-05:00

The difference between Sarah Palin and Muslim fundamentalists? Lipstick

Read the Salon article for fuller coverage.

I said it before and I'll say it again. She wants to ban books, I want to ban her.

MNSHO: Yes this is library-related

2008-09-09T16:35:00.003-05:00

No to Sarah Palin. Anyone who pressures a public librarian to ban books is out.
It's that simple.
Just say no.

Teaching Moment

2008-08-30T10:22:00.002-05:00

Yet another new celebrity Teacherinthetrenches writes from her job working the front lines of special education!

She's such a good writer. Her dedication to her profession, her zeal for her students and colleagues alike really comes across.

We Have A Dream: Obama Haiku

2008-08-29T05:57:00.004-05:00

Dreaming better days,
Hope: America’s promise.
Barack Obama

My New Celebrity

2008-08-24T16:53:00.002-05:00

The Daily Rhyme is my new, favorite verse site. My favorite contemporary humorous poet, Scott Emmons, formerly of Word Chowder has created a blog--where he can easily update--and readers can be easily informed of such updates--his poetry.

His latest is about VP contender, Joe Biden.

With the launch of this latest website, the announcement of Barack Obama's running mate, I am hopeful once again.

Can't stop the haiku...

2008-08-20T22:18:00.002-05:00

away from the nest
ocean of sorrow rises
boy missing mother.

Tuesday Haiku

2008-08-19T20:18:00.001-05:00

The week’s work pulls me
powerful vortex drawing
heart away from home

Monday Haiku

2008-08-18T06:55:00.004-05:00

Pre-dawn alarm. Snooze.
Quick breakfast with coffee buzz
Wake up to new week

Autism: It's all about the fans

2008-07-28T19:28:00.005-05:00

Box fans, standing fans, table fans, that is.

My son has always been attracted to fans. In fact, that was one of the most "autistic" things about him in his early years. By the age of 2 1/2, he was always noticing fans in windows from great distances. We'd be driving and he'd say quietly, "there's a fan in the window."

I would have no idea what he was talking about until we'd get closer and sure enough, high up on the 6th floor of some apartment building off Main Street, there would be a box fan sitting in a window.

Well, now he's making videos of fans and uploading them to YouTube.

I have to admit, I'm very impressed. He tells all about a particular fan, shows the parts and speaks very clearly and with obvious understanding of his subject.

Now, he's not the only one with fan videos. There are some videos that are from antique fan collectors, but some are from quirky folks like my son. Not every fan enthusiast is autistic, but we do wonder.

I'm glad my son has found a little community online.

Library management and the economy, silly

2008-07-20T17:12:00.005-05:00

I am not a very prolific blogger. I really regret that I do not have a lot of time to come here and write.

I especially wish I had more to say that was "professional" and devoted to librarianship.

I've got very little except to let you all in on my view of public library management: it's hard.
It's a balancing act. You're public, but to keep your sanity there have got to be boundaries and when patrons cross those, we staff get all nervous and tense.

So on one hand, we want to be more accessible. Kiosks, not desks. Roaming librarians with PDAs looking up info for you.
I'm not sure I like that. With the public using the free resources of the library more than ever--because what's inexpensive and free out there is shrinking--we've got more people in the building than ever.

They are signing up for cards and hopping on to our computers. They are tracking stocks with our online tools. They are checking out dvds in droves, I think just because they're free. Why go rent when the library is free?

So I think with more people coming in to use the library, we need our boundaries more than ever. I do want to make things easier and more welcoming for our patrons, but I really want my boundaries.

They're here!!!

2008-06-09T21:06:00.003-05:00

The fireflies are here! The fireflies are here!!!
This evening we took a walk...more about that later and afterwards I looked out our window, wistfully, thinking, "what a lovely night it is, a good night to sit and watch fireflies."

I saw what I thought was a bit of a glow on the tip of a hosta leaf in my front yard. Could it be? Naaaaah...probably the reflection from a car.

But then it happened again.

I got closer to the leaf. It was! It was!!! I'm so happy!

Then there were a few more before the mosquitoes began biting.

The walk...well, it was because my spouse and I have been married 24 years today. The walk was sans child and just because we used to way back when...and now I'll remember the fireflies coming out on our anniversary.

Here's a link to the Wikipedia page on fireflies.

June Bugs

2008-06-05T09:58:00.003-05:00

In case you have been hibernating, it's almost summer but the Summer Reading Program season is upon us. This year the theme is Catch the Reading Bug.

As far as bugs are concerned though, I'm wondering about fireflies. Lightning bugs. Evidently, they're a big deal in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Here's a link to synchronous firefly watching in the Smokies.

I'm researching this because it's been hot. It's been humid. Prime conditions for firefly viewing here in the great Midwest, but I'm wondering if our cooler than usual spring has had any effect. Where are our lightning bugs? One of the great joys of summer here is sitting on the front step with an icy beverage in hand and watching the fireflies.

Am I just impatient or do we have a problem here?

My son, the movie lover

2008-05-25T11:50:00.008-05:00

Today, the family and I are planning to see the Indiana Jones movie.
It did not get wonderful reviews and I have no idea how my son will take it. He's 17, autistic and into movies with bad language, bathroom humor and nudity.

We told him it would be like the stunt show we saw at Walt Disney World Hollywood Studios. He said, "Cool."

He's reading right now, a book he'd read back in third grade. He said it's easy (it's a level 1 reader) and I wonder why he's reading it. He often does things that match what might have been done in a certain year. If the dates and days of the week correspond to the dates and days in bygone times, that's what sets him on his current course.

He's not stuck in the past, just exploring it.

Anyway with movies, when we took him to see a Star Wars movie (the one with Jar Jar Binks), he kept grabbing my arm, pressing the light-up button on my watch, wailing quietly, "it'll be over soon!"
Our hope was that he'd absorb some stuff for socialization on the playground. Oh well.

He was getting past certain babyish movies, not fully out of Disney animation (well, who is these days, Pixar rocks!), but We, the Grown Ups were starting to get tired of them.

Later that summer we all went to see "Austin Powers, The Spy Who Shagged Me," and it was an eye opener. One friend criticized me for taking my little wee son to a movie with suggestive and somewhat bawdy humor and the occasional bad word. I thought she was nuts for taking her kids to see movies with more violence in them.

Anyway, it was one of my son's favorite movies. I think he got it into his template: "good movies=nudity, grossness, bad words and mom & dad laughing their heads off"

Facebook Again and Again

2008-05-19T19:23:00.002-05:00

If real life were like Facebook:

Can librarianship be conservative? I don't think so.

2008-05-09T07:01:00.006-05:00

I've recently become acquainted with someone who wants to change the library profession.

She's not a first-adopter. Rather she's conservative and wants librarianship values to be more in line with her personal ones. She reads Shush and other blogs listed in the sidebar there.

I understand some things about conservatism, and occasionally I share some of those views.

I am not, however, a fan of President Bush, nor do I think that the United States is infallible in its national policies.

And I am staunchly liberal as a librarian. I believe in the right to read whatever, the right to listen to whatever. People who complain that we let youth check out R-rated movies don't understand that the ratings are NOT the law--they're self-imposed by the motion picture industry--including theaters. And I'd prefer that people who complain about this educate themselves about what their kids are watching.

Sometimes a PG-13 movie has violence that is more disturbing than a few cuss-words and a full-frontal.

My new acquaintance would like to impose restrictions in public libraries for this purpose. She thinks that when we don't, her values are being dismissed.

I'll say that's all well and good for a private library, maybe a private school library or a church or synagogue library. But in a public library, we are open to all sorts of viewpoints. That is the beauty of liberalism: Liberals will support a conservative's right to her/his opinion and values and the public library is the place--both physically and symbolically where this support is most evident.

And so, I am wondering, if there are more like my new acquaintance out there and will they try to change the profession? Do they know that they shoot themselves in the foot if they impose restrictions on the right to read? Because first it's the right to read. Then it's the right to think for oneself.

The Facebook Dilemma: Be nice to that nerdy girl

2008-05-04T09:51:00.004-05:00

Say you're on Facebook, or some other social networking website. When you contact someone from your past or present, and click on that "Add Friend" button, how much time do you give them to respond before you start thinking they are not interested?

And how many people do you add as friends, who are just lovely acquaintances, colleagues or folks you know who are just on Facebook? People you might see almost every day anyway?

In other words, is Facebook making you a better friend or a shallower one? For an interesting take on Facebook, please read Scott Dobson-Mitchell's excellent blog piece about how Facebook seems like a continuation of the kind of socialization you might experience in high school.

Maybe that's why I'm on Facebook. In high school, I was--or felt like I was--a socially outcast fat, braces-wearing nerd of a girl. In Facebook, while I don't feel like Ms. Popularity, I feel that I'm among friends and more in control of my destiny. You all can't see that I'm a pizza-face this morning, or in desperate need of exercise or abdominoplasty while I'm sending you some cyber refreshment or feeding your virtual pets.

And my friends are so kind on Facebook. They feed my pet, pet my cat and poke me, all in the nicest way. Perhaps there is nothing wrong with this at all. Is this because we are NOT f2f that we have to be extra nice to one another?

I give up. I like Facebook. I like the ease of social networking online. So please don't diss me if I send you some Good Karma, a Lucky Cat or a charming invitation to participate in something silly, but not morally reprehensible.

Just don't poke too hard.

Sometimes a cigar...

2008-04-28T06:56:00.003-05:00

...just burns me up.

We stopped at a cafe yesterday and were very troubled by the sight of a three year old girl walking around the outside tables holding a cigar.

It turns out her dad was inside ordering an espresso and he'd asked her to hold his cigar for him. I was filled with utter loathing for this person--and I don't like being filled with utter loathing, but I really, really, really hate cigars.

To me they smell nasty and they're symbolic (phallicly, I guess) of an aggressive male type of behavior. And I generalize and I know it's bad but I figure the guy drives a Hummer and thinks its his god-given right to drive a big ass gas-guzzling macho-shithead of a car.

What the heck was he doing getting his 3 year old daughter to hold his LIT cigar so he could waltz inside and get an espresso?

I was so angry. I wanted to call the child abuse hotline. Should I have?

Monster Name

2008-04-16T07:22:00.000-05:00

April is cruel and it has nothing to do with taxes

2008-04-16T07:00:00.002-05:00

This year, the branches are still bare even though it's past April 15th. We went for a walk last night, my spouse and I and it was a windy evening, although a little warm and springy feeling.

The bare branches tossing against that sunset sky with its seashell colors evoked February, not April. I felt kind of sad. I know that in a few neighborhoods, just south of where I live, the trees are leafing and the buds are budding. And truly, I hate it when it gets too hot too fast.

The Bradford pear trees in the city, my neighbor's ornamental cherry and one redbud have started to bloom. I miss my pink dogwood, though. Last year, killing frost destroyed the blooms. This year, I see the buds, but where are those lovely pink flowers?

I'm anxious. I'm not much of a gardener, so I rely on my trees.

Time

2008-04-09T22:36:00.003-05:00

A good friend of mine told me recently as we were complaining about how little time we seemed to have, that the older we get, the more important it is to spend time with the people you love and cherish, doing things you really want to do.

That is all for now.