SS topic for Easter weekend '11----"Shine"

Absolutely appropriate for Easter weekend: SHINE. Dazzling sunshine and spring flowers, bright colored Easter eggs & baskets & children's clothing and ladies' shoes. Easter's image and stereotype are wonderfully and remarkably bright with new spring shininess. And today is indeed a beautiful shiny Easter!!

But now I make my home in Wilkes County, NC, home of Junior Johnson. Now when one says "shine" to me, I must consider the other meaning, the one implicit in the history of my new home county, where "shine" is just as likely to refer to the liquid product, white in color, and also called "white lightning" or "moonSHINE." Wilkes county, where our step up in culture is defined by our annual "Shine to Wine" festival, announcing and exposing our new productivity in wineries. You ought to come visit in May.

Delicious for Sunday Scribblings

Holiday celebrations and meals: Delicious--yes, indeed!! I would really say "yummy" and "fattening". From sweet potatoes with marshmallows or just 3 kinds of meat and dressing with gravy to multiple desserts, it all adds those pounds I have fought (pretty successfully with the fifteen+ year help of Weight Watchers)to keep off. Delicious--that is what I would like to call the quality time with family and friends--yes, usually over food--that also, if you are fortunate, comes with the holidays.

Hope you all had a peaceful, joyful, meaningful Christmas. Now please have a safe and happy New Years celebration. And may we all be blessed with a new year that is healthy and happy and prosperous.

Where in the World SS #173

Somewhere beautiful;
Somewhere serene;
Somewhere to age gracefully,
but energetically,
having adventures
with my love.

Somewhere with 4 equal seasons
with spectacular colors in spring and fall;
A place with a little bit of HOT
and a little more COLD;
but mostly just perfectly comfortable.
A place with fabulous mountains on the horizon,
where a vast variety of trees are found,
where deer and birds
and other wild life abound;
where hiking and biking are inviting.

A small town where everyone speaks
and waves to everyone else;
where people work together
on projects and on fun;
where anyone you ask for help is
willing and eager to do so;
and where all work together
to meet community needs;
where treasures are discovered in
everyday people and buildings;
and where history is alive and new.

A place with rivers and greenways,
with live entertainment free
in downtown streets and little restaurants.
A place with music and theater
but also churches and picnics and camping
and boating and swimming;
Where even new neighbors are invited to the
Memorial Day cookout...

Where in the world???
Our little town!!

And we love it!!!!!

Musings on Indulgence SS# 171

Indulgence---good? or bad? It is sometimes one, sometimes the other.

I would think its common connotation is negative. I was musing about it as I drove to church this morning trying to really decide which I felt it usually was. My best quick definition was that indulgence is allowing ourselves or someone else to {revel in, over partake of, spoil themselves with} something that probably isn't really good or healthy for them. As in: "indulge my craving for chocolate, ice cream, cookies, cheese, wine..." what have you. Or "one who is an indulgent parent frequently has spoiled or undisciplined children."

About that time, I realized there was another driver driving right up behind my rear bumper, but I was going the limit and as fast as I was comfortable going. Just then the pavement widened to 2 lanes going my way and I pulled my car clearly into the right lane and muttered "Indulge yourself, better you get the ticket than me." That also seems to endorse negativity.

There has been much speculation about whether or not the "Boomers" were over indulged by our parents who lived through the Great Depression and wanted their children to have better, with the result that things came too easily and abundance came to be expected and this being the example which was set for us, we followed and amplified it for our own children, to the end that the marvelous WWII work ethic has been replaced by the "it's not my fault," "that is not my responsibility" mentality.
Now indulgence seems to have become the "norm" and it has led to all too many obese children and bored, apathetic teens and young adults who believe that the world owes them a living with all the nice acuetrements.

I am not saying I am right. These are just the musings of an old mind playing with the word indulge/indulgent.....

But on the other side I would make a distinction between indulgence and "lovely indulgence" which is a phrase that reminds me of my precious mother. Lovely indulgences would be such as wandering in a lush colorful garden in early morning in the springtime with multi-colored flowers as far as the eye can see, walking into the refrigerator in the back of a flower store to revel in the aroma of all the wonderful fresh cut flowers, or lying on one's back in the grass looking at a blue sky full of billowy white clouds and trying to decide what the shapes make you think of...

I Carry #85 Sunday Scribblings

What do I carry??? Too much, always too much. Whether we are talking about the contents of my purse or what I pack for a 5 day short trip. I seem to try to carry the necessaries for any eventuality. Invariably, when I "pack light," I get there and find myself needing something I thought about bringing and decided against. I pack my purse to the point that sometimes even when I know, "I know I have one of those somewhere in here, I remember seeing it the other day," I cannot find that thing that I need "right this minute."

Purse stuff: regular, necessary things--- keys, money, check book (including address labels and church pledge envelopes), credit cards, gift cards, driver's license, auto insurance cards (one for each car) plus health insurance card, membership cards (Love Your Body, Sam's Club, library card, consignment shop member number cards), lipstick and chapstick, and daily appointment calendar; then there are eye things---contact lens case and fluids, reading glasses, sunglasses and occasionally lense cleaning spray or tissues; hygiene things---dental floss, travel toothbrush, mouth freshener mints, strips or spray; medicine things---headache meds for various types of headaches, a decongestant or two (just in case), a couple of herbal appetite suppressants, starch blockers, & grapefruit extract tabs; then there are the extraneous extras---money off coupons, shopping list, notes on what I need to do or something someone told me that I want to remember. Now I want to put this all in a purse that is not big enough to cause back pain and small enough to bit inside a filled file cabinet drawer or under the car seat.

I have a theory that we who are packrats in the stuff of our life may also be excessive carriers in other areas as well: memories, responsibility, guilt,....
That is basically another blog.

Hospital Horror

Editorial note: Today is 11/19/07. I started this story weeks ago as a follow up to the Sunday Scribblings post at the end of October. I have had neither the time nor the inspiration to finish it yet. But I really did want to link to to my initial post on Hospitals.



"That was really fun!" Jill commented as the 3 of them piled into the car at the end of the evening. "I knew we'd enjoy line dancing, but for a grown-up church social, it was better than I'd expected."

"I don't share quite your enthusiasm," Jim said, as he helped Jill's friend Suzanne into the back seat. "But I did have a better time than I expected to."

"Suze, it was a great suggestion. Thanks for including us. Hey, guys," Jill pursued, " since we have been grazing on that great food spread all evening, we don' t need to feed ourselves before we head home. Does anyone mind if we run past the hospital and see Gram? I saw her this afternoon and I told her what we had planned for this evening. But since the hospital is actually between here and home, I told her we might come by and run in for a few minutes on our way home."

"Of course, Jill, no problem," Jim replied. "Suzanne, any reason you need to get right back to your place?"

"No, none at all. In fact, I would enjoy seeing Jill's grandmother; it's been several weeks since I saw her last. What did you say she is in the hospital for this time?"

"It's even hard for me to keep up," Jill responded. "She just keeps having the same problems over and over. I think it is a bladder infection that hasn't cleared up and they are worried about pneumonia too. The nursing home was concerned enough to send her over to the emergency room and she was in a room down there for a bit over 24 hours while they tried to find her a room. They are trying to put her in a private room. I keep having that problem. As soon as they find out how good her insurance coverage is they go for the private room. I told them specifically I wanted her in semi-private---she enjoys the company and I feel better when I know there is someone else who might push the call button if she were in distress. She hates to impose or to bother anyone and I don't believe she would actually push the call button for herself."

In less than 5 minutes Jim pulled the car into the parking garage, and the 3 of them got out of the car.

"Here, there's someone smoking outside this door," Jill said, "we can go in here instead of going all the way around to the night entrance. I can hardly believe how well I have learned my way around this place in the last couple of years."

Once they reached the floor, they lowered their voices slightly, but were still laughing and chattering about what a nice evening they'd had. "Gram's room is down on this corner. If she's already asleep I'll just give her a kiss and we can go on and get you home, Suze," Jill said as she hurried ahead to the open door.

The next thing Jim and Suzanne heard sent them forward at a dead run, followed closely by at least 2 nurses. Jill had let out a long and piercing scream. The first thing she saw as she entered the room was her little, 87 year old grandmother flat on her face on the floor, unconscious, in a pool of blood from a sizable gash on her forehead. The fact that the blood had begun to coagulate indicated she had been lying there awhile. Her feet were tangled in the tubing from her catheter which had been clipped to her bed sheets. Probably, unaware of the severity of her weakness, possibly unaware of her being in the hospital, she had attempted to go to the bathroom. The nurse who was supposed to be responsible for that room was not even on the floor, and apparently had not bothered to pull up the restraining rail on the bed.

Jim hurried over to wrap his arms around his trembling wife; and Suzanne, along with the nurses, hurried to see to the crumpled, unconscious figure on the floor. Fear and unimaginable fury were Jill's strongest emotions and she continued to shake with both. The nurse giving the best of her attention to Jill as she made excuses, instead of seeing to Gram, was the most infuriating of all.

Gram was breathing and the opening in her head had staunched itself and was no longer bleeding. Suddenly the corner "private" room was an absolute flurry of activity as they got a stretcher and attendants to pick up her frail little body and put it back on the hospital bed. Of course, they were now going to have to take her down emergency to do a CT scan to assess what damage the fall had done and to stitch up the head wound.

Thus the pleasant Saturday evening was catapulted into the horror of 5 hours sitting in the emergency room waiting to see the results of a new battery of MRI and other tests which should never have been needed. The gash on Gram's head required 14 stitches on the outside, in addition to a set of Jill-was-never-told-how-many on the inside.

As I said in the initally posted part of the blog, this is absolutely a true incident and I am not quite sure how to end it in the story form I have begun. The only fiction is that this was my mother, not my grandmother. She pretty much recovered, altho I will never know how much less she was after it happened than if it never had. I began investigating omsbudsman aid and legislation and other elder abuse/ malpractice options I might have had, but before I could get very far with that (doing it as and addendum to my already busy life and at end of the year holiday time), my dad had a masssive stroke and nine days later died. By the time I finished taking care of his funeral, insurance, etc. and being exectuor of his will, I no longer had the energy or the fight left in me to pursue righting the wrongs that had been done to Mother. By the time I might have restarted those engines, details had been forgotten, witnesses lost track of, and documentation misplaced. Ah, so it goes. But you may see why hospitals do not hold a very bright spot in my memories.

My Primary Edict SS# 81

If I were suddenly made the supreme ruler of this world and could really expect that all people would follow the policy or policies I set down, I cannot think of a better first edict than one saying that all people, the world over, should follow the "Golden Rule." If we all gave that idea: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" some serious and contemplative thought, then made our very very best effort to do exactly that, what a truly improved world this would be.

Each person: "This is what I want or wish. But wait, how would I feel if someone else imposed this condition on me."


Reactions or response choices:

"I can live with that. I think anyone could and we'd all be happier or at least just as happy." -OK

or

"What the.....? Whose lame-brained notion was this mess??" --No!

That is pretty much my response to this prompt; and I see my answer is not what I would consider "light." But it is really quite a thoughtful and heavy question. There are lots of changes I would like to see made----no more abuse of any kind or crime or murder or prejudice; freedom of religion for everyone, with no imposing one's views on others; no more hatred or war. Then there are lighter changes I'd also like to see---no more reality TV or stupidity and ignorance used to entertain; eliminate exploitation of sex in ways that cheapen and devalue it---oops, I am back into serious, aren't I?? Even though I have now given it quite a bit of thought and have read a lot of other people's responses, I don't think I would change my initial response. I think the Golden Rule, respected and followed by all people, would go a long way to solving most of the world's problems.

JOBS SS# 80

First job, Worst job, Dream job.....now here is a prompt I think I can get into.

My very first job lasted only about 3 to 5 days, through no fault of mine. I was a junior in high school, just turned 16, and I got a job at JC Penney's in the small town I grew up in, wrapping Christmas presents. We lived far enough out in the country that I had to have a driver's license to be able to take a job, because it just was not feasible for someone to have to drive me in to work and pick me up afterwards. As it was, Mom would be without her car however long I was at work. I loved the job!! I love Christmas time anyway; and in a small town, Christmas wrapping in one of the town's 2 major department stores put me right in the middle of the music and color and bustle and smiles. I will never forget that. It was the only time I ever held a real job during high school and as I look back now as a retiree, those were my first social security hours.



My next real job was about three and a half years later. I was lucky. To my parents, who both had college degrees (Dad had a PhD), it was a given that my brother and I would both go to college. In order that we do the best we could, we would not have to work our way through, as they both had. So my next job was in the summer, between my sophomore and junior years at the university. This one was supposed to be the "dream job," I believe, but it certainly did not turn out that way.



The parents of the girl who was my best friend through all of junior and senior high school owned and ran a motel. Thus they had a number of friends with a like occupation. One of those couples, who also had a son Hank that was in Candy's and my graduating class, had moved the the east coast of Florida and was managing a motel right on the beach. They said she and I could come and live in one of their kitchenette units rent free for the summer and get jobs there to earn spending money and some for the next year in college. We made big plans during Christmas vacation. Since we were attending different colleges, it was an even more exciting prospect that we might spend the kind of "together time" that we had during high school. Well, you know what they say about "the best laid plans..." In April that year I came home one weekend to be her maid-of-honor in a very hasty wedding; and to all intents and purposes, our big plans were history.

However, come summer, everyone involved wanted me to go ahead with the plans. I had no car, nor were there any plans for me to have one until I completed my degree, had a job, and could afford to get one for myself. Also it meant that although I would be near a family who were friends of Candy's parents and also near a guy my age who was sort of a friend---we had been in several classes together, I would be essentially living alone, finding work, then getting myself back and forth to work on whatever public transportation was available--not a lot, let me tell you, at the end of the 60's in a Florida beach town. I was nervous but willing to give it a try. It would be stupid to give up the dream opportunity of living at the beach alone all summer long and working, my first real opportunity to be an adult.

I learned a lot that summer. I never really thought of applying the label "coming of age" to it, but in a literary sense, that is surely what it was. I was sooo small town and naive and so innocent. Ah, but I stray from the job.

There was NO work on the beach side. I borrowed a car (stick shift, which I couldn't drive---but God bless those old Volkswagon Beetles, I drove all day without serious problems but never found first gear til evening when I was returning the car) from a newly wed cousin who happened to be living in the general area, so that I could go make inquiries and put in applications. The only place that offered any hope at all was a huge new Montgomery Ward store that had not yet opened. They weren't quite ready to open yet, which gave me some extra beach days. They did plan to train us all and the training days would be paid. But it was nearly 9 miles to work and I could not keeping using my cousin's car, as she worked too. As it turned out, Hank found the new Wards to be his best option as well, and he had a car. But he was hired to work at their warehouse which was 2 miles away from the store and his work hours were different, much more regular than mine, usually 8:30 to 5:30. The way we finally worked it out was he would drop me at the store on his way to the warehouse and I would spend my first 2 hours in the store coffee shop reading and drinking coffee. I'd start work at 10 am and often work til 2 or 3 pm then be taken off the clock and be expected to be back at 6 pm to work the 6 to closing (9pm) hours. Having no transportation, I would eat some lunch back in their coffee shop then go to the ladies restroom, where there was a couch, and read. On the up side, I read all of Gone With the Wind that summer, with the great comprehension one can achieve by going back and rereading anything forgotten or confusing. When my work day finally ended, Hank would drive back over and pick me up. Obviously, I was no longer getting any beach time and it cut into Hank's evening on a regular basis too. Fortunately neither of us was of the "party animal" mold. But still I felt guilty for being this sister entity he had neither asked for or counted on. Eventually one of the men at work took pity on me and asked if I would like to come and live with his family. I was crazy about his wife, who was only 6 or 7 years older than I, and their 2 adorable children, so it seemed perfect. I did some free babysitting in exchange for bed and breakfast and a ride back and forth to work which didn't put anybody out.

I had a lot of weird life experiences that summer, including my first marriage proposal by a guy I really didn't even know or like that well; he was an unbelievable control freak and decided that was his best chance to tell me what I could and couldn't do. I think getting away from him altogether (by leaving the beach area) was another reason I so quickly accepted the offer to move in with the Johnson family.
Anyway, that job surely was not the dream job; but it wasn't the worst job either.

My "worst job" was not really what most people would consider a terrible job, but I hated it. It also was a "summer job" (tho it did not start out to be) and that was how I was rescued from it. As soon as the time came close for schools to open in the fall, I told my boss that I really missed teaching and needed to keep my hand in at it since it was what I expected to go back to when my husband returned from Vietnam. So what was the problem with this job??? Mostly I was just bored to tears. I got to read a lot on this job too, on the clock; but I felt tied to the 8 by 10 office and my desk. I was the only secretary in a very tiny office in either the days before standard answering machines; or maybe it was just that he wanted all his clients to receive the personal touch. But to tell the truth, there were just not that many people calling. The boss was gorgeous, well known, and wealthy but thought he was "God's gift to women." Mind you, he was married; his wife and children, and he, when he bothered, went to my parents' church, and were active and well liked. But he thought his young secretary needed some "extra nurturing" while her husband was serving so far away. Because of the church connection, as well as who his family was, I did not want to make an ugly scene out of the whole thing. But I must admit, I was NEVER so happy to leave a job and "shake the dust off my feet."

Fortunately, the teaching---yes I did go back to it--- was fulfilling and made me happy. It is hard to call most teaching positions "a dream job." But if satisfaction is what it is all about, and I believe that is the ultimate goal, then I spent 35 years lucky.

Sinking feeling SS# 74

I get that sinking feeling.....

....when the phone rings as I am running out the door nearly late

... when the door swings closed behind me and I don't know where my keys are

....when I realize I am not going to cook what I had planned for tonight because one of the crucial ingredients has gone bad in the crisper drawer

....when I realize how late it has gotten and now I can't make that phone call I really needed to make tonight

The light and the heat of the day
Are finally draining from the sky.
I've slowed down enough to unwind
Whether I was ready to or not.
I find myself intermittantly
Struggling to reopen my eyes.
Next I notice
I've read the same 2 sentences
More times than I can count, and
I have NO idea what they say.

I've got that sinking feeling
I am not going to
get this set of papers graded /
finish writing this test
Before I sleep tonight.

Too many projects, too many commitments, too much to do,
Too few hours in every day, simply too little time,
Not enough energy or money or time.


At least hardly any of my sinking feelings are from getting caught doing something I shouldn't;
Because I don't have the time and energy to do all the things I should!!

Wickedly Inundated (SS #69)

Wow, who knew that living without a kitchen and with only one bathroom, the small one, while the main bath and kitchen are torn out and re done, could take up so much time??????

Do I sound spoiled?? Sounds like I might. Some people only have one bathroom. Some people have none. I shouldn't be complaining. And I am not, exactly; maybe just a little whining. Forgive me. Also, I'm trying to explain my uninspired or non-existent blog contributions lately. Guess I am kind of just journalling (If you are using a noun as a verb do you still follow the double the end consonant before adding -ing rule??) too.

Our house, built in '69 --we've lived here since '80-- has gone woefully short on renovation, updating, etc. except for what was absolutely necessary to keep it going---2 new roofs, new appliances when old ones quit working, new faucets on all sinks--bathroom, kitchen, laundry room--when our hard well-water killed them, a new piece of furniture here and there, including the lavish new white living room set I STUPIDLY bought in '95 or '96, telling myself I was a working grown-up and deserved to have what I wanted, and that my cats were well behaved and could be taught they were to have nothing to do with the new living room furniture. (A close friend, also a cat owner gave me a tee shirt that first Christmas which said "Cats are nature's way of telling you 'Your furniture is too nice'." There's foreshadowing for you.) Foolish me!! Well, that's another story; and even though it was probably the most comfortable couch I have ever sat or laid upon, last September I had the Salvation Army carry it away.

Now that we're retired and playing with the idea of moving, closer to family or just farther from the traffic and the Madding Crowds, it has become pretty much a necessity to modernize the kitchen and bath if we want the house to be at all saleable in the present market. To this end, our contractor and his team have GUTTED---yes, tub, tile, sinks, wall, paper, and in the bathroom the floor surface as well---both the kitchen and the primary bathroom. I have a refrigerator in the old dining area; but the microwave and coffee maker are on the porch. We have even had to remove almost everything but the washer and dryer themselves from the laundry room, so they can remove an old free standing shower stall which has never really worked, and replace the laundry room sink and counter top, which were apparently cheap, and a bit abused even before we moved in.

I have been quite excited about it. It is even motivating me to do more throwing away and general cleaning. But poor JR has been more than a little overwhelmed by it all, starting with the cost and including but not limited to the confusion and clutter and loss of privacy of it all. But it is TIME CONSUMING!!!!! even tho' the work is being done by others. But wow, the total loss of sinks (water sources, a place to clean up dishes and hands and everything), the loss of lighting and even places to set things down in all those rooms is to a certain extent mind boggling; and altho' I haven't made it to the gym all week, I am spending twice as much time running around in the house, to the back bathroom not only for the toilet but to wash everything.

On the humorous but "poor baby" side of it, the workmen have covered the carpet from the front door to the kitchen flooring and down the hall to the front bathroom with heavy butcher paper taped to the carpet, so no one sneaks up on anyone!!!! and the cats are terrified. Not only are there strange men and voices in the house all day, every day, but when "Mommy" and "Daddy" come down the hall, the noise causes them to flee as from a herd of elephants. And the noise that they themselves make when traversing the hall, even when they tip-toe and move verrry slowly, is horrifying and unacceptable. The little man pretty much just doesn't change ends of the house, and chubby girl, 'tho she seems to be adapting more quickly than he, just doesn't have her normal enthusiasm for helping (encouraging loudly) me as I prepare their breakfast and dinner, in the laundry room instead of the kitchen. She'll just wait in her room for me to bring it, thank you. They are, however, doing better getting along and sharing Mommy and Daddy's room and bed, now that they are forced by their own response to the unpleasant new situation, to share much more limited quarters.

Anyway, I just wanted to log for myself some of our reactions to this new experience, and to explain to any of the kind people who regularly read and comment on my Sunday Scribblings and those whose work I try to follow and respond to why I have been more absent/delinquent than usual.

If I say I have been wickedly busy I might even be able to squeeze this in under this week's topic.

Hair (SS #68)

Hair. What can I say about hair? I see that lots of people have really gotten into this one, but beyond appreciating my hair, I haven't a lot to say on this subject.

What first comes to mind is the tune and just snatches of the refrain to the title song "Hair" from the the rock opera of the same name. I can remember very little of those lyrics. I never actually saw any version of the play/opera itself, and really don't think I missed much. It wasn't to my taste then or now, but the music stuck around. I actually think the song "Age of Aquarius" was from that same show.

Hair is fun. Mine is thick, straight but with natural body, and easy to work with. I have really been very lucky with it because it is quite managable and I have been able to please myself with it, beyond the necessity of finding someone to give me a good cut, which I can usually make last from 8 to 12 weeks. It is good to feel satisfied with the hair and color I was received by nature and genes. I am glad I have hair. (That sounds a little simple minded, but I mean it---and the contrast is with the brave ladies I refer to later in this post.)

I really have not had very many different hair styles but I have liked and felt comfortable with those I have worn for significant periods of times. One of my good styles is quite short and straight; the other is just a bit longer than shoulder length and quite curly. Both are pretty low maintenance, which is important to me. When I was thinking this all over this weekend I realized---- I had never thought about it before---- ironically, I have only ever owned 2 wigs for a significant length of time and they are in almost the same styles as the 2 actual hair styles I have rotated back and forth between for most of my adult life. Obviously, I wore the wigs during the period I was wearing the opposite hair style.

My color has always pleased me also, altho I must admit I have played with color a bit. My natural hair is a rich dark brown with both golden and red highlights. I probably had more natural gold and wanted more natural red, so when I colored it I went toward auburns; still do, a little, chestnuts and auburns. My most drastic have been deep mahogany and once a near purple; when I was out in the sunlight and wearing purple, JR said my hair matched. That was a bit drastic and I didn't go with that shade again.


I admire greatly the bravery of certain ladies I have known who, when they were losing their hair anyway to breast cancer's poison drugs, have fearlessly, or maybe very fearfully, shaved their heads and gone about their lives beautifully, or at least proudly, bald---proudly because it represented a fight they were giving their all to, against an evil and insidious monster of an opponent. Power to all the ladies, and men, who bravely fight the cancer monster, in spite of its physical ravages!!!!


DON'T FORGET ABOUT "FIRE THE GRID" ON JULY 17th !!!!!!


See my "Secret Hope" post (SS# 65) if you don't know what this means. It was written 6/21.

I also have written a short reminder blog today on my regular blog site.

What's Your Sign (SS--#66)

Astrology, horoscopes, zodiac signs. JR thinks all of this is silly. "Of course," he says, "every sign has a broad enough range of characteristics that everyone can find ways he or she is 'just like it says I should be.'" And of course, that is certainly a valid point. However, I have always felt good about being a Sagittarius, the archer, the centaur; a born teacher and traveler, so they say.

I have never been so into astrology that I have had a chart done, nor do I have any idea where my moon or sun is/was, within the sign, or what's "rising." But basically, I have always felt it was pretty plain that I abounded in Sagittarian characteristics. Just to brush up, I have indulged in a good bit of research on the subject (seeking knowledge is also a Sag. characteristic) in the last few days since the prompt was posted.

"Incurable optimist, always looking for the sunny side." Positive, kind hearted, energetic, encouraging, loyal friend.
"Excellent conversationalist, good sense of humor."
"Honest to a fault." Trustworthy and can be counted on to "tell it like it is," sometimes so impulsively that feelings are hurt because the energetic Sagittarius doesn't stop to think before speaking. Speak their minds, sometimes even "painful truths."
An idealist, refusing to be deterred, who "keeps on keeping on."
These phrases from that research describe me well. However, so do the ones that say:
"Sagittarians don't like mundane day to day details"---I read that "housekeeping," I am really not so good at that!!
"The archer may be so forward thinking--read "busy, over scheduled"---they forget the present, and thus may be late or even miss appointments."
"...tend to be impatient." Maybe that is from being over scheduled.
".. tend to procrastinate [maybe that was the line I was standing in twice-- my next paragraph will clarify that] but crisis brings out the best in Sagittarians, who perform best under pressure."

It says we Archers are independent, and I have always felt I am; but it says that independence is such a dominant characteristic that Sagittarians frequently are so driven by the necessity of having freedom that it tends to make them commitment-phobic and may cause them to turn down jobs that would tie them down. This is so opposite of me--38 years with the same man (the love of my life!), more than 30 years teaching English in the same county (tho' I have changed schools, and grade levels), and 27 years in the same house--- I have to wonder what other line I was standing in twice when they were giving out that trait.

Another trait I missed the line for was unemotional. I cry at sad movies and TV shows on a regular basis, also when I hear that an animal or someone (even ones I will never meet) has been mistreated. When I have to put a pet to sleep, even when I know they are ready and their life has lost its quality, I am a basket case. When I am happy, it is a secret from no one, and I truly take delight in simple joys. I am not too good about not showing anger either, but as soon as I spew out that anger, it is OVER, forgiven and on the way to being forgotten. Sagittarius is also supposed to have a tendency to gamble and take risks. JR would love to elaborate on stories about how far in the other direction I go on those.

Now I do have a theory about why I have several very strong tendencies that are so NOT Sagittarian that they are sometimes listed on the NEVER Sag. lists. I feel sure you have heard of "Nature vs Nurture." Both Mother and Dad were Cancer signs. I researched the Crab too. This theory would explain quite a few of my non-Sag traits. "Conservative, highly emotional, nurturing...need roots, resist change to an extent, concern themselves about being secure and safe, protective of those they care about." Apparently growing through all my formative years with the two of them had undue influence on my Sagittarian nature. "Intrigued by objects with history attached---antiques, photos, souvenirs. Love to collect and keep mementos"----ah ha, an explanation for my pack-rat-itus. "Can always talk about any subject with anyone." Looks like I got that one from both nature and nurture, which could be why I have a tee shirt that says, "I'm talking and I can't shut up" and why I chose the phrase that begins my description of myself in the header of my blog.

Secret Hope (#65)

I have a secret hope, a secret faith that people are basically more good than bad, more humane and loving and generous and cooperative, than self-serving. I believe that in every person there is something good and at least worthy of praise, if not actually loveable---that got me through 35 years of teaching secondary level (7th through 12th grade) public school; and that there are always, in every group, more good people than bad ones. I believe most people want good things to happen for everyone, not just for themselves and others like them. I believe in the power of faith and of people of faith working together.



About 2 weeks ago now, I received an email from a friend that struck me as extremely significant. It was inspiring and beautifully, wonderfully hopeful for our world. It has been quite a while since I received any idea I thought was truly hopeful, long range, for our world. I had just been pondering how to spread the message and blogging had occurred to me as a better way to reach a larger audience than merely forwarding it as an email. This week's Sunday Scribblings topic seemed to nudge me in the direction that this is the perfect format to share this beautiful hope. My secret dream is that we people, from all over this globe, by working together, can be a force for great good. It is really about restoring the equilibrium of the world.



There is a date on which we must act together. That date is July 17, 2007. There is also a time: 4:11 Greenwich Meridian Time, whatever time that is in your own time zone. At that time, for an hour we are simply to meditate and/or pray and think positive, hopeful, energetic or energizing thoughts, or simply reflect on our own beautiful positive memories. As I understand it, it is our united positivity that will help to Fire the Grid. The individual committment is to offer one hour of our time and positive energy toward the healing of this world and its people. I am asking each of you, please, to go to the site I am going to give you and read at least a part of what is there. I have never been taught to really create a link, so you may need to copy and paste this address. The address is http://www.firethegrid.org/index.htm The message is offered in 8 or 12 different languages. In English it is perfectly clear and eloquently grammatically correct. The message tells me what time 11:11 GMT is in my own time zone, I assume it is set up to tell you each what time it will be in your time period also.

It will cost many of us an hour of sleep. It will cost us each an hour of our time. But if it works, BUT IF IT WORKS ..... it will give our children and grandchildren and great grandchildren a lifetime to still enjoy all the good our world has to offer. Reading the information at the site will take some time, but it is divided up into managable chunks. Select and read it a chunk at a time. Read the background story first or the problem or the plan. Even the background music that will play while you are purusing the site is inspirational. I have not verified the site, I would not know how to start! But I find it inspirational. I simply believe!! I have faith in the good of people and this world. There is nothing negative, nothing dangerous about it. No committment is asked for, not even any information. No harm I know can possibly come to anyone, anywhere, as a result of an hour of prayer and meditation.

I have always loved the song "I Believe" (I would give credit to an author, but the site where I found all the words, listed 4 different authors) which begins with the words "I believe for every drop of rain that falls, a flower grows." It continues including the line "I believe above the storm the smallest prayer will still be heard"; and ends "Everytime I hear a newborn baby cry, or touch a leaf, or see the sky, then I know why I believe." It has always been a song I have sung to myself when I was sad or afraid. You too, if you'd like, can search the song by that first line and find all the words. It is a short song and very uplifting, very reassuring.

Perhaps you remember a movie called "The Abyss"; it was a favorite of mine. Made in 1989, it starred Ed Harris as the oil-rig chief and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio as a scientist and his estranged wife. It was the story of an oil-rig crew on a mission to rescue a sunken nuclear sub. It was a perilous mission at best, exascerbated by a fierce storm. I don't really remember all the twists and sub-plots of the story, but certain elements of the story remind me a little and fondly of the initial background story for Firing the Grid, because when the Ed Harris character made the ultimate sacrifice, which was to dive to the bottom of the ocean to try, I think, to keep the nuclear charge from detonating-----he took a special small submersable down, knowing he would not possibly have the air to return, but didn't let his wife know there was no way he would make it back until after he reached the bottom----at that time, spiritual "creatures" (who appeared as beautiful pink lights, and whom we had seen moving around earlier in the show) came to him and saved him. It is a beautiful concept that if our motives are pure and totally altruistic, our goals for the good of ALL and the world, all spiritual beings in the universe can work together and have a positive impact.

The site I am trying to link you to and the plan are both called Fire the Grid.

We can do it! We can help to reconnect the world! My secret hope in this case is the belief that we as a people care enough about our world and its people to want to really do something to save it---something in which we work together, in a stong, united act of faith and good will.

Peace to you all and love, my blogging friends.