mitzimusings

Retirement or Change Part Two

2012-02-07T10:41:00.000-05:00

To say I'm getting a bit anxious is an understatement--or maybe it's the four cups of coffee I had this morning.
Whatever it is, I am feeling some twinges about being unemployed. I won't be one of "the very poor". I won't be living in the PT Cruiser and dining on cat food. My lifestyle won't change that much. My work-style will.

From 1968 onward I've worked full time, with breaks for childbirth and various surgeries. Notice I said childbirth, not rearing. I was the major support in the family and after the baby I needed to get back to work--quickly. In fact it was so fast the obstetrician was concerned about me --I'd had a C-section.

After my daughter was born I came to resent my job--I had to leave her to go to it. I worked evenings in the local hospital when she was an infant, so my family life was one day a week and every other weekend. I worked most holidays for the extra money. I really didn't want to advance--to become a head nurse or a supervisor--even though I was offered both positions. I wanted to be home with my little girl. I had to swallow the disappointment and walk from our small apartment to the hospital every afternoon--and back home at night.

Eventually, as Heather began elementary school, I got a job on the day shift and then with the visiting nurses. But by then I'd decided to pursue my degree. When she was six I was working a full time job, going to college at least one evening a week, volunteering for the PTA and the Cancer Society, and working as a private duty nurse at least one night on the weekend. I was on the working-mother treadmill and I was getting used to the pace.

I stopped seeking a degree with the divorce--lack of money and someone to watch Heather at night. I also stopped the private duty work. Money was tight with no child support but we made it.
After a few years I decided I wanted to go back to my dream of being a writer and I took an adult ed class at the community college--a class on writing your first novel.
And so I embarked on another second job--one that I continue to this day.

In the last decade I've been the Director of Quality Improvement and then Vice President of Nursing of a long term care management company. Even as I got older I still found myself on that treadmill. Not with school, since a degree wouldn't get me any further than I already was. Not as a mother--Heather was grown and on her own. But with job increased responsibility and worry.

Soon I'll be stopping that treadmill. It won't come to a dead stop--I'll be working two days a week for a month. But it will be stopping.

And already I can see myself filling in the spaces with writing and building my writer's platform.

But I still have the twinges.
Twinges of change and going into the unknown.

Change

2012-02-03T13:33:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about "change" a lot lately - not the stuff in the bottom of my purse either. This is major change - major changes. It (the thinking) began when I decided to switch to the Facebook Timeline instead of waiting for it to be thrust upon me. I mentioned on said Facebook that the older I got the less I liked change. Someone commented that "change is good". well, no - not all change is good, of course. But some changes are...many are...

So I'm thinking about "change" or the "changes" in my life that are coming at me fast and furious:

1. I'm retiring from a profession I've had for more than 40 years.

2. I'm retiring from a company I've been with for more than 22 years.

3. The company is being sold and is going through its own changes.

4. I'm marrying a man I adore after being single for more than 30 years.

5. I'm moving away from the area I've known for 47 years.

I'm going to do what I've always wanted to do...write. And now with the changes in the publishing industry, Morgan (also a writer) and I decided to form an LLC and "work" at our writing. Wolf Howl Publishing is our brand-spanking new company. It will just be the two of us for now. We'll be Indie Authors getting our books out there...to see if anyone reads them.

And so these changes are many and fun and scary and...good.

Just Another Day

2011-09-10T17:40:00.001-04:00

I was at Whitecliff Nursing Home, waiting for my Regional Nurse.
I'd driven across the state the day before.
We were going to start the facility's presurvey review.
I was wearing a black dress.
I watched The Today Show on the large TV in a lounge.
I walked the halls to check on the residents.
Some had heard and didn't realize what had happened.
Some had heard and were numb.
Finally I just turned off televisions in the rooms where the residents didn't understand.
They, for once, were the lucky ones.

Self-discovery

2011-09-06T09:08:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I'm a little old for that but it happened yesterday afternoon as Morgan meandered around Lancaster County - and maybe other counties as well...I lost track.

I discovered I'm a Type A personality...well, maybe Type A Light.
I need to know what I'm doing, where I'm going, what I'll do when I get there, who I will be with and when I'll get home...all the time.
I don't think I was always like that--controlling.
I really didn't think I am like that. But I must be because as Morgan took what I kept saying were wrong turns away from home (supposedly on our way back from Gettysburg...could he have done it on purpose?), I found myself getting more and more anxious. When we passed an intersection on Rt 322, one I've crossed many times on the way from one of our facilities to another, and when we passed it going in the wrong (for going home) direction, I almost got short of breath.
Yes, I was tired.
Yes, I had things to do at home.
But I did have the next day off.
We could have meandered around Pennsylvania and Maryland (and New Jersey if Morgan had been so inclined) without me losing a minute of work.
Sanity, it seems, was another thing.
I tried to explain it to the calm, unruffled Morgan. Um... the calm, unruffled, retired Morgan.
"I'm a nurse," I said, as if that was more than enough explanation. "I was a single mom," I added, thinking that was enough.
"I had to be in charge all the time. At work and at home. That's why I'm like this."
Morgan just looked at me with his enigmatic Morgan-smile.
"Well, soon, you won't have to worry about that. You'll be able to do anything you, we, want at any time," he said. "You'll be retired and we'll be married."
And then it hit me.
Retirement meant more than just not going to work everyday. Retirement was not going to work everyday... and everything that means.
No schedule defined by someone else.
No time frames set by someone else.
No control by someone else.
I would answer to no one but myself...and Morgan.
I would really be in control...of everything and for the first time.
That was scary.
But not as scary as when I saw the Oregon Diary on the wrong side of Rt. 272 for the second time and realized that if we kept going we would end in Maryland and not Reading, PA.
I've got a lot of work to do on me.

A Tale of a T....shirt

2011-09-03T09:10:00.003-04:00

J.C. Penny recently pulled this t-shirt because of a controversy - many thought it was sending the wrong message to young girls...including some young girls (see above website for their comments).

Part of me agrees with the push back and part of me agrees with the shirt.

You see, I've never been pretty and I've had to work damn hard for everything, including relationships - well, except for this last one - he loves me for me.

Now I'm sure there are pretty girls out there who will tell you that they've had to work hard, too.
Uh - maybe not so much.
There have been studies that show differently. For example, when given the choice between a pretty woman and a plain one, all other considerations being equal, it will be the pretty one that usually gets the job.

I won't even get into the subject of junior high/high school/college rejections. That's a parallel universe and one we carry throughout our lives. I was on the Senior Prom Committee. I wrote the poem for the prom book: An Evening to Remember. How do I remember that evening? I remember that I wasn't there - no date - in that era no girls could go alone.

And don't be the not-pretty girl with a high IQ. You may as well start your cat collection now, dearie. You scare everyone away, except if they need you for something. That t-shirt could have said: I'm too pretty to do homework, so my ugly friends have to do it for me. Been there, done that, got nothing for it.

So maybe the t-shirt should have stayed on online and in the store, as a reality check. Is it any different than "I'm with stupid"?

Yes, a girl today can be anything she wants.
But good looks hold an advantage.
Taking a t-shirt away is not going to change that.
Maybe nothing will.
We'll still have to work harder.
And girls should know what they're up against.

Reminder

2011-08-17T18:49:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I need a slap on the forehead.
Sometimes I need something less forceful.
Today I got the second one.

I was cranky today.
My back and right leg hurt from driving to one of our facilities.
I didn't like something that was in an email.
I really wanted some chocolate but I'm trying to get my blood sugar below 136 fasting.
I was cut off in a parking lot.
Yeah, I was cranky...
Until I saw a man standing near the exit of the Target parking lot with a sign:
"Will work for grocery money for family."
I stopped the car - letting anyone behind me wait. And I gave him $40, saying "I wish I had a job for you."
He thanked me - a lot.
Yeah, he could spend it on drugs or booze or both.
But even if he does, my life is so much better than his.
And maybe that $40 will go to food for his family.
That's a chance that was worth the two twenties to me.

Vain Vanity Fair

2011-08-14T17:04:00.000-04:00

I’ve had a lot of things to muse about but not the time to write about them—until now.

I just finished perusing the latest issue of Vanity Fair. I usually go through it quickly and mark the articles I want to read. I then keep it around for a month and read the articles at my leisure—when I have some.

I went through this month’s VF faster than usual and I wanted to share some of my thoughts:

1. Sumptuous ads of beautiful young, thin people in clothes I will never be able to wear, let alone afford.

2. Sumptuous ads of clothes, jewelry and perfume while the country is in a recession

3. Only one article that I really wanted to read.

Thoughts on the above:

1. I know I’ll never wear Ralph Lauren, etc but just once I would like a magazine that caters to the middle class (if there is a middle class left), over 50 female who’s a size 14 (or larger).

2. Yes, I understand that the companies make these things for people who can afford them and the making and the ads provide jobs, etc. That’s what my brain says. What my heart says is something altogether different: We have a country where people can afford a watch costing several thousand dollars that’s also a country where people sleep on the street.

3. I bypassed the article about how the US missed the ability to stop 9/11. I read the article about Jerry Lewis by James Wolcott. I grew up watching Jerry Lewis. He made me laugh and sometimes he still does. I read it even though I knew that Jerry wouldn’t be manning the MD Telethon like he’s done for more than forty years. It was just good to know that someone from my past still rated a VF article, even at 85. Reading that article was almost like having a bowl of mashed potatoes or mac and cheese. It was comfort, even if it wasn’t all glowing.

And sometimes you just need comfort - even if the mashed potatoes are a bit lumpy.

Everything Old Is New Again...

2011-07-06T19:07:00.000-04:00

I spent a good part of the afternoon listening to a webinar (I can't get streaming video on my work laptop - an I.T. Control Issue) about Transitional Care to Prevent Readmission to the Hospital.

Now readmissions to hospitals are going to be a big deal soon - for hospitals. If CMS (the people who run Medicare and Medicaid) think the patient was readmitted too soon (God forbid they're really sick), then Medicare may not cover the cost of that second readmission. That's a bit simplified but it's basically what may happen. And I was listening to the webinar because that may filter down to nursing homes. If the hospitals don't want the resident back because of a too early readmit, then we have to take care of them. Who gets lost in all of this - well, the patient.

Anyway this high-falooting Transitional Care thingy....actually they're various processes developed by various high-falooting organizations paid for by the above CMS and staffed with people with lots of letters after their names, using high-falooting terms like "evidence based knowledge", "improved transitions of beneficiaries", and (my favorite) "range of time-limited services that complement primary care...:"

What the entire webinar was about was helping people being discharged from the hospital to care for themselves at home.

This is what I did thirty years ago as the Visiting Nurse Association's Liaison Nurse to the hospital. I would visit patients and talk to them about their home care, set up their Care Plans and call the information into the VNA's office. The nurse and/or social worker would visit that day or the day after. Because the VNA received money from the communities and the United Way, nurses even made well-baby visits to first-time mothers and their newborns.

What happened to all of that? Well, if I remember correctly (I wasn't there when it happened - thank goodness), the VNA was absorbed by the hospital which was bought by a for-profit corporation which then eliminated most of the "Transitional Care" part.

Aha!

So it seems that thirty years ago we had the right idea....
Too bad, we now to pay for the organizations staffed with lots of people with lots of degrees to tell us this, when it was once all there - with nurses...

Thoughts on a Royal Wedding

2011-04-29T19:39:00.000-04:00

I only watched a few minutes of the wedding of the century today. And we, of course, know that in fifty years there will be another wedding of the century.

There were lots on internet stories about The Wedding being a "fairy tale" wedding and lots of comments about "princesses" and it got me to thinking...

When I was a little girl I wanted to be a princess. I wanted to be a princess so bad that my Aunt Carmen crocheted a crown for me - a lovely crown of gold and silver metallic yarns that she even backed with purple satin. I wish sometimes I still had that crown.

Back then I didn't realize that there were many reasons why I would never be a princess. I grew up in a Disney-dominated childhood of the original princesses: Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.
Fate was against me and princess-hood.
For one, my father's ancestors came from Calabria, Italy - not royal material.
And although my mother's family was English, there were rumors of horse-thieves and stowaways on New World-bound ships. Not royalty, either.

I certainly wasn't in a position, as I became an adult, to meet and marry a prince - not unless he was admitted to the Med-Surg Unit of Easton Hospital. And said prince would have to like chubby, dark-haired girls. This, of course, was pre-Monica Lewinsky.

So I knew I would never really BE a princess.

But lately I've been treated like one - and that's all that matters.

Best of luck to Will and Kate.

AADD

2011-04-20T20:15:00.000-04:00

I think I have Adult Attention Deficit Disorder.
I think I had it before I was an adult.

My father used to say to me (among other things): "You never finish anything you start."
Back then I thought that meant I was lazy. Today I know it really means something almost the opposite.
I have so many interests...I want to know about so many things...I want to do so many things...that I go from one thing to another...with hardly any segues.
And now I'll be marrying a man like that...
Morgan has sheds full of his "interests" and why sell his treasures: "I don't know who I want to be tomorrow."
I feel the same way. I don't know what I want to do tomorrow.

That's the way I read books, too. I have several that I read at once. Someone asked me how I do it. I don't know. I read different types of books at the same time; the specific book I happen to pick up at any given time depends on my mood. It may be a biography, a history, a romance, a mystery, a thriller. Right now I have three of those types going at once.

And that's the way I write. I go from one project to another and I finish them all - just not in a linear fashion - that's too boring. And as for my father...I finished nursing school. I finished writing several novels. I finish many, if not all, the things I start...with some interesting detours.

So maybe AADD is not a bad thing.

I just read a saying:
"ADD-make it work for you."

I'm making it work for me.

How Will I Feel....

2011-04-14T06:19:00.000-04:00

...when I'm no longer "a nurse"?
Oh, I'll keep up my license and do some reading on the changes in the profession and the long term care industry. But will I be able to "see" myself as not a working RN? Just who will I be. After all that's what I've been for 43 years. Add nursing school to that and it's 3 years longer.

I don't think I've defined myself as a nurse. When I tell someone my profession, I usually say I'm a writer and nursing pays the bills. That's how I've looked at it for years. I take my work seriously but not myself. I am more than that RN after my name - always have been, always will be.

So in the next year as I prepare for retirement, marriage and a move, I don't think I'll be going through an identity crisis. I've always had "multiple personalities". As Morgan once said, "I don't know who I'll want to be tomorrow." That's why we're together - to go on that journey in the future.

Old People Do Fall in Love...

2011-04-04T05:18:00.000-04:00

...and want to get married.

But it seems that there are those who think that's odd.

Some are surprised when I say I'm engaged. No, I don't have a rock. I have a silver ring with an unusual heart-shaped turquoise. We both love silver and turquoise jewelry - one of the many likes we share.

Yes, I'm 63, wrinkled, chubby and cranky at times. But this man fell in love with me and I'm very happy about that.

Yes, he's 69, chubby with bad knees but I think he's the handsomest, funniest, silliest, most intelligent man I know and I love and adore him.

And yes, we want to show the world that we love each other and are committed to each other and we're doing that by getting married...

And having a ceremony...

And inviting friends and family...

And having a small reception after the ceremony.

Except...

Some people are surprised when we ask about a place for a wedding...

We're having a difficult time finding a place for a "small" wedding...

We're having a difficult time finding someone to officiate.

But, yes, old people do fall in love and even in the autumn years, they do get married...

And they do live happily ever after.

On Teachers - for Mr. Reilly and Mr. Reinbold

2011-04-02T09:34:00.000-04:00

This will not be a blog about teachers who inspired me because there was only one, a short, slightly overweight gentleman from Easton, PA who happened to find himself teaching history in a Laurel, Maryland high school. His classroom was in the lower level of the school, in a corner and was uninspired in its blandness; however, Patrick Reilly was not bland. Mr. Reilly acted out history and made it come alive.

Maybe it's because of Mr. Reilly that I will marry a retired history teacher. Maybe it's just because of that retired history teacher. But I know I fell in love with the past in that small, basement classroom.

However, today, teachers seem to have become the Satan in the crusade to balance budgets. We want to slaughter them on the accountants' altars and let others with more money off the hook.

I just want to mention a couple of things:
1. How many teachers could we have if the large multi-billion dollar corporations paid their fair share of taxes?
2. If we make teachers bad guys, then no one will want to be a teacher. Who will teach the next generations?

I think our priorities are backwards.
Just sayin'.

The Dream - Again

2011-03-18T06:52:00.000-04:00

For some reason I've been sleeping very deeply lately and dreaming, vividly.

Last night I had "the dream" again. I was back in the hospital where I was educated and where I worked after becoming a nurse - an education and a job I didn't really want, so it haunts me in my dreams.
In this version of "the dream" I'm lying in my bed but I'm in an office in the hospital. I get myself out of bed, fully dressed in nurse white (do any nurses wear that these days?) and take another nurse (also in white) on a tour of the hospital. We talk about the hospital and mention names of nurses from my past and names of people from my present.

It was more than surreal - it was very real.

Lately Morgan and I have been doing some definite planning for my retirement - even beginning to plan a simple wedding ceremony. Can this be why "the dream" has returned? Will I regret retirement and that I'm no longer "a nurse"?

And the big question:
Once I do retire, will I still be "a nurse" in my nighttime dreams and never "a writer"?

NOT Funny, guys

2011-03-16T07:16:00.001-04:00

From Gilbert Gottfried to a coed on YouTube, it seems that there's a new way to deal with tragedy: humor.

Gottfried, once the voice of the ALFAC duck - he's since been fired, tweeted some very non-funny things about the disaster in Japan. Tweets can be read by anyone, including Gottfried's AFLAC bosses. It seems that AFLAC does most of its business in Japan. They were not amused and Gottfried was terminated- quickly.

A blond buxom (and it looked like deliberately buxom with an obvious push-up bra) coed posted on YouTube a video of herself ranting about the "Asian" students at her college library who were using their cell phones and disturbing her studying. She went on the mock their language and also "guessed" that the reason was they were trying to find out about their families. Can you say, "Ugly American"?

There are other examples of Americans mocking what's happening in Japan, but I cringe when I think of them...let alone write about them here.

What would we have done or felt if people of other countries had mocked and made jokes about September 11. 2001 or Katrina? Well, it wouldn't have been pretty.

What makes us, as Americans (it seems to be only Americans making these remarks), think this type of humor acceptable? Have we lost our sense of humanity? Is our hubris so grand that we think we're the only ones who can feel loss, pain, tragedy? Therefore, we negate these problems in other countries.

Devastation in Haiti or Japan is as bad as devastation in New Orleans.

We are all human. In fact the dog sitting in the midst of the tsunami debris, guarding his injured canine friend seems to be more human than some of us.

We are all united in this tragedy.
And it can happen here.

Another Rant

2011-03-02T06:20:00.000-05:00

Sorry but I have to get it out of my system.
I just saw a quarter-page ad in Lehigh Valley's Morning Call newspaper for nominees for the best blog. There was an "arts" category, an "entertainment and nightlife" category and several sports categories but NO literature or "book" category.
Yeah, that's right. I was going to nominate my own www.witchlit.blogspot.com (I may be a lot of things - shy is not one of them). But there was no category!
Now would it fall under "arts"? Does "arts" include arts and crafts, painting, poetry, theater, origami and everything else that could be contained in that broad category? If so, my little blog about trying to read/listen to 100 books in a year may fit but get lost in the shuffle.
I do read for entertainment and do most of my reading at night; however, I doubt if my blog would fall under "entertainment and nightlife" - or "nightlife and entertainment".
So, I'm ranting again.
I'm a square peg and can't even find that round hole

A Murder of Crows

2011-02-20T07:19:00.000-05:00

No...crows were not killed. "Murder" is the term used to describe a group of crows.
And let me add that I do love the birds that many consider a nuisance - in fact the word "crow" is part of my magic-name. Birds of the crow family include ravens and jack-daws (found in Europe) and are considered one of the most intelligent species of bird.

My father told of seeing a large group (murder) of crows early one morning on a deserted golf course. There was a circle of crows on the ground and many black dots sitting in the surrounding trees. There was one crow in the middle of the circle. Every so often, a crow would leave the circle and go peck at the crow in the middle. Pop had the distinct impression that the circle was handing out judgment to the one in the middle.

After hearing a flurry of cawing, I opened the blinds over my patio doors this morning to see an unusual site for our apartment complex: scores of crows flying around and even more perched in a nearby tree. I watched in fascination as several would swoop down in front of me and then fly toward the tree and take their seat. Two walked along the sidewalk in front of my apartment and cocked their heads, their dark shiny eyes visible in the morning light. Finally I said, "I can't join you in the tree. You see, I can't fly."
In two beats both crows had flown, but only after circling around the fence in front of my patio door.

Did they recognize a fellow-crow in human form or were they just acting like birds?
Guess which one I believe?

On Valentine's Day and Love

2011-02-13T07:48:00.001-05:00

I've spent many Valentine's Days alone.
I spent one trying to drive to Maryland in the snow with my brand-new husband - that was forty-one years ago and he's no longer my husband.
I've spent several with the significant-other of that time in my life.
I will spend tomorrow with the gentleman I suspect will be my last Valentine - not that he or I will be going anywhere soon.
Maybe I should have said my "lasting" Valentine.
It took me many years to realize what was really important - in life and love.
Honesty, loyalty, intelligence, humor, a love of life...
Lucky me that I found all of that in my sixties.
Oh, not just in the man I love...
But I also found them in me.

Happy Valentine's Day.

A Rant about Packaging

2011-02-12T19:25:00.001-05:00

In the last few days I've tried to open the following:
1. a pack of crackers
2. a package of batteries
3. a package of tissue paper
4. a plastic bowl of pre-cut fruit
5. a locked cupboard

I worked very hard at opening up 1 through 3, needed help with 4 and 5 remained locked.

Packaging these days required you to use a knife or a special tool to cut through the thin or thick plastic coverings. Sometimes I've even injured my fingers trying to get through to whatever I wanted.

Must manufacturers use heat, shrink-wrap to cover everything these days?
As I age my fingers don't work as they used to, so I find myself hacking away with knives, scissors, tweezers, keys (especially if I'm in the car)...almost anything metal with a sharp point.

Can we just have packages that are easy to open?
Please?????

Fifty Years Ago...

2011-01-20T19:57:00.001-05:00

...I was thirteen and home from school because I was sick.
Fifty years ago there were no one-hundred cable channels...only a few to watch while I was home sick.
Fifty years ago I sat bundled up in the chair and watched the only thing on television, the new President giving an inaugural address.
Fifty years ago I discovered a new hero.
Fifty years ago I began to think about what I wanted to be when I grew up.
Fifty years ago I began to dream.

I never got a chance to fulfill that dream.
But in those fifty years I became the person I am today, with a little help from the words of that new President.

True Grit vs True Grit

2011-01-09T07:13:00.005-05:00

As I watched the 1969 version of True Grit last night I realized I'd never seen it. Fascinating how scenes from a movie become such a part of the culture that I could think I'd seen it.

But it had been made in 1969 and I was a new RN just out on her own trying to hold everything together with very little money; movies were a luxury I couldn't afford.

And so I watched the John Wayne epic after seeing Jeff Bridges as Rooster Cogburn.
The differences?
Oh, there are many of course - because of the time each movie was made, because of the producers, because of the directors, but not so much because of the actors.

I know Jeff Bridges wasn't playing John Wayne, he was playing Rooster. So much has been written lately that Wayne played Rooster as Wayne. I think Rooster Cogburn was John Wayne...or the person John Wayne had always wanted to be and therefore, was. So when Bridges played Cogburn, he was actually playing John Wayne's alter-ego. And I have no romantic notions about The Duke. I grew up in a household where he was almost revered; in fact my father once had a portrait of him that he displayed proudly. I never would have liked Wayne's political ideals and still don't, but damn it, some part of me admires Rooster and therefore, in a round-about-way, Wayne.

Maddie of course is another thing altogether. Maddie in the first movie is softer, rounder - the way women were supposed to be in the late 1960s, even though the women's movement had taken hold. The ideal woman cared for her family and was feisty but not too feisty. Maddie today is a product of her real-time. She's bright but she's hard and driven because a woman alone (and she is a woman, no matter how old she is in the movie) had to be. She couldn't let anyone see her break. In the first movie there's a scene where Maddie cries over her dead father's "traps" - there's no similar scene in the second.

Another big difference, other than the endings (I liked today's ending better because I like epilogues) is the setting. Westerns at the end of the 1960s were going out of style. Maybe the producers and the directors felt that this one needed the back-drop of the west - the expanse of meadows and mountains, trees and valleys. The scenery in the 1969 version was beautiful. In 2010 it's bleak, a reflection of the story and the times.

The 1969 True Grit still stands the test of time. There is something stirring about watching Rooster/Wayne take the reins in his mouth, guns in each hand (twirling one) and charging the outlaws. He was like the knight in shining armor, only old, fat and one-eyed.

The 2010 True Grit will also stand the test of time. Jeff Bridges is no less a knight to his Maddie than John Wayne was to his.

I will get both on DVD.

Because This May Be Very Important....

2011-01-08T07:21:00.000-05:00

This is from my favorite paranormal blog: www.naturalplane.blogspot.com.

I post it, not because I think there's a "conspiracy" (except maybe for a conspiracy of stupidity) but because we should be aware of these animal/fish deaths and we should be tracking them and the reasons.
Why?
We could be the next species to die in mass numbers.

Posted: 07 Jan 2011 09:51 AM PST

8,000 Turtle Doves Fall Dead in Italy - Animal Deaths Increase Worldwide

* Blue stain believed to be sign of poisoning or hypoxia - lack of oxygen that is precursor to altitude sickness
* Cold weather and overbreeding blamed for deaths of two 2million fish in Chesapeake Bay
* Disease behind deaths of 100,000 fish in Arkansas River
* At least nine incidents of mass animal deaths across the globe
* Hundreds of confused birds plummeted to their deaths in multiple locations in the U.S.
* Rapid movement of Magnetic North Pole towards Russia may have caused bird deaths

dailymail - Thousands of dead turtle doves rained down on roofs and cars in an Italian town in the latest in a growing spate of mass animal deaths across the globe.

Residents in Faenza described the birds falling to the ground like 'little Christmas balls' with strange blue stains on their beaks.

Initial tests on up to 8,000 of the doves indicated that the blue stain could have been caused by poisoning or hypoxia.

A witness told www.examiner.com: 'We have no idea why this happened all of a sudden.

'The doves just started falling one-by-one then in groups of 10s and 20s.'

Hypoxia, a lack of oxygen, is known to cause confusion and illness in animals. It is also a common precursor to altitude sickness.

Experts said results from tests on the doves will not be available for at least a week.

They said that cold weather could have caused the birds' deaths as the flock was swept into a high-altitude wind storm before falling to the earth.

It comes after two million dead fish were found to have washed up on shores in Chesapeake Bay, Maryland.

The alarming find is being blamed by authorities in Maryland on the stress caused by unusually cold water and overbreeding among spot fish.

That investigation comes just days after the deaths of an estimated 100,000 fish in northwest Arkansas, which is being blamed on disease.

A statement by the Maryland Department of the Environment said: 'Natural causes appear to be the reason.

'Cold water stress exacerbated by a large population of the affected species (juvenile spot fish) appears to be the cause of the kill.'

Preliminary tests of the water in Chesapeake Bay have showed the quality was acceptable, officials said.

The statement added: 'The affected fish are almost exclusively juvenile spot fish, three to six inches in length.

'A recent survey showed a very strong population of spot in the bay this year. An increased juvenile population and limited deep water habitat would likely compound the effects of cold water stress.'

Mass winter deaths among spot fish have occurred twice before in the Maryland area - in 1976 and 1980.

The incident is the latest mass animal death to hit the headlines in the last two weeks.

These include:

* 450 red-winged blackbirds, brown-headed cowbirds, grackles and starlings found littering a highway in Baton Rouge, Louisiana
* 3,000 blackbirds on roofs and roads in the small town of Beebe, Arkansas
* Thousands of 'devil crabs' washed up along the Kent coast near Thanet
* Thousands of drum fish washed along a 20-mile stretch of the Arkansas River
* Two million small fish in Chesapeake Bay, Maryland
* Thousands of dead fish found floating in warm Florida creek
* Hundreds of snapper fish found dead in New Zealand
* Scores of American Coots found dead on Texas highway bridge

Experts have speculated that New Year fireworks, thunderstorms, cold weather, parasites and even poisoning may be behind the deaths.

But conspiracy theorists have also speculated on the internet that secret government experiments could be behind them, with some even claiming it was a sign of a looming Armageddon at the end of the Mayan calendar next year.

Another theory is that the rapid movement of the Magnetic North Pole towards Russia may have affected the birds' innate navigation systems.

Inbuilt navigation systems in birds and fish is believed to be affected by magnetism.

Scientists have said the Magnetic North Pole is shifting at an average of around 25 miles a year.

With birds and fish relying on it to travel to breeding grounds and warmed climes, there are fears that the shifting pole could be confusing the animals which means they do not migrate in time to avoid cold weather.

Tests are being carried out on the dead birds and fish, but results are not expected for several weeks.

Scientists have been baffled by the sudden deaths of hundreds of birds which have plummeted to the ground seemingly simultaneously in several locations.

Two hundred American Coots were found dead on a highway bridge crossing Lake O' the Pines in Big Cypress Creek, Texas.

They are believed to have been hit by passing vehicles while walking or apparently trying to roost on the bridge.

Swedish experts blamed the shock of New Year fireworks for the unexplained deaths of 50 jackdaws found on a street in Falkoping, Sweden.

Many of the birds are believed to have died from stress or as a result of being run over while disoriented.

The largest incident took place in Beebe, Arkansas, were horrified revellers witnessed around 3,000 blackbirds crashing to their deaths into homes, cars and each other as they celebrated New Year.

Another 450 birds were found strewn along a highway in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, after apparently hitting overhead power lines.

In both cases, the birds are believed to have become confused and were flying at a lower height than usual.

The deaths of tons of fish across the globe is being attributed to unusually cold water.

Thousands of Brazilian fishermen have been left struggling to make ends meet after the sale of seafood was temporarily suspended when masses of fish were discovered in Paranaguá, Antonina and Guaraqueçaba Pontal do Paraná.

Fish were also discovered rotting and floating in Spruce Creek, Florida, after another period of cold weather.

100,000 drum fish were found strewn along the shore of the Arkansas River.

And the cold snap has been blamed for the deaths of 40,000 Velvet swimming crabs - known as 'devil crabs - found littering beaches in Thanet, Kent.

Sorry, Mike...

2010-12-20T06:12:00.000-05:00

Even if you win the Super Bowl with a Hail, Mary Pass...
No dog for you.
I do feel sorry for your kids. But maybe you should have thought about that.
I've had some friends tell me that a Michael Vick dog would be the most watched and therefore, the best cared-for dog in the world.
Maybe.
But I still wouldn't want to take the chance.

Michael Vick Wants a Dog

2010-12-17T06:26:00.000-05:00

Sure, Mickey...
When he Devil buys ice skates.

I know you're being rehabilitated. That's nice.
I know you're working with the Humane Society. That's nice.
I know you're doing well with the Eagles. That's nice.

But you used dogs, animals who only want to please, and made them fight each other to the death and if they didn't fight "good" enough, they were tortured and killed.

I'm sorry. I believe in redemption; however, I think that getting your job back at a huge salary is redemption enough.

Please never, ever, ever have another dog as a companion, or a cat, or any animal.
How could they trust you again with their lives.
I don't.

That Dream...

2010-12-14T07:38:00.000-05:00

...I had it again last night. I was in charge of a unit in a nursing home or hospital and having a difficult time.
I didn't know what staff I had.
I didn't know the patients.
I had hardly any equipment.
One thing that I remember trying to do was to have housekeeping switch the dirty privacy curtains for clean ones. And not getting any cooperation.
I try everyday for the charge nurses in our company NOT to have those problems.
Maybe that's why the problems slip into my unconsciousness at night.

It's very hard to "leave work at work" when you have a highly developed sense of responsibility.
That's why I read (anything NOT medical) and write (almost anything NOT medical - since my WIP begins in a nursing home).

A Tragedy

2010-12-12T08:23:00.000-05:00

The following story is from www.naturalplane.blogspot.com and I recommend anyone interested in the news of the different to subscribe to it.

I've seen the Holy Thorn Tree many times - each time I've been to Glastonbury. I've made the trip up Wearyall Hill to stand in wonder at the tree would could trace its roots, literally, to the time of Jesus of Nazareth and the Holy Land. There is a special place in Hades for the people who did this. But I also have a prediction. The tree will regrow...

The Holy Thorn Tree of Glastonbury cut down my vandals:

swns - Callous vandals have destroyed one of the most celebrated Christian pilgrimage sites in Britain and chopped down a tree that can trace its roots back 2,000 years to the death of Jesus. The Holy Thorn Tree of Glastonbury, Somerset, is claimed to have sprouted from the staff of Joseph of Arimathea, who prepared the burial tomb for Jesus after lifting him off the cross. Thousands visit the site near Glastonbury Tor to pay homage and leave tokens of worship – but many were left in tears on Thursday after finding the tree cut to a stump.

The sacred tree is unique in that it blossoms twice a year – at Christmas and Easter – and sprigs taken from the thorn are sent to The Queen each year for the festive table. Vandals had hacked off the branches of the iconic tree, leaving just part of the trunk remaining – and dumped the remains of its proud thorns on the ground. Police believe religious fanatics may have deliberately targeted the holy site - visited by thousands of pilgrims each year – overnight.

Locals wept openly at the foot of the historic tree, on the town’s Wearyall Hill opposite its world-famous Tor, as they struggled to contain their emotion. Katherine Gorbing, curator of Glastonbury Abbey, said: ”The mindless vandals who have hacked down this tree have struck at the heart of Christianity. It holds a very special significance all over the world and thousands follow in the footsteps of Joseph Arimathea, coming especially to see it.

”It is the most significant of all the trees planted here and can be linked back to the origins of Christianity. When I arrived at the Abbey this morning you could look over to the hill and see it was not there. It’s a great shock to everyone in Glastonbury – the landscape of the town has changed overnight.”

The Two Elizabeths

2010-12-11T09:21:00.000-05:00

As I watched CNN this morning I realized that there were two stories about very strong women, both named Elizabeth.

Elizabeth Edwards lost her battle with cancer this week and today she will be laid to rest. She is a role model for all women. Her resilience (the name of her book) and her grace are guidelines for us all.

The other Elizabeth is much younger, Elizabeth Smart. I watched as this courageous young woman stood in front of cameras and spoke about the sentencing of the man who'd kidnapped her as a child. Her courage and poise are also guidelines for us all.

To Elizabeth Edwards: Rest in Peace and be with your son.
To Elizabeth Smart: I hope life gives you the best - you have earned it.

I hope to keep the images of the Two Elizabeths with me for some time.
I know I will try to be like both of them as I live my life.

Forty Years Ago Today...

2010-12-10T07:01:00.000-05:00

...I was in hard labor - had been for almost a day.
I was not a happy camper.
I wanted the baby out and he/she wasn't moving.
I was also pre-eclamptic and very ill. I remember the Director of Nursing coming to see me in the labor room because the rumor out in the hospital where I went to nursing school and worked was that I may not "make it". She never left her office. Even in labor, I was impressed.
My obstetrician finally came in (his partner had left me in labor) and said I needed a C-section.
"Oh, crap," I thought. "That will mean more money for the hospitalization* and more time off from work."
But there was no choice for me or for the baby.
By 9 PM that night I had Heather Bronwyn and it was the best day of my life.

* Forty years ago I couldn't get maternity benefits on my hospitalization until I'd been married for x number of months. I got pregnant a month after getting married and my maternity benefits didn't come into effect in time for my labor and delivery. I had to have everything paid before going into labor. The C-section added more to the cost. I even worked at the hospital where I delivered - but I had it paid off within the year.

Thirty Years Ago Today...

2010-12-08T07:21:00.000-05:00

When I first saw the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show in early 1964 I was not a very happy teenager. I was overweight and had lost one of my heroes to an assassin on November 22. I was not expecting all that much from the "Fab Four" but I was fascinated...and hooked. I loved the hair, the music, their attitude. I loved them. That evening watching a boy band from Liverpool went a long way to heal that teenager's broken heart.

Like millions of girls I had a crush on Paul but as I got older I found that I was more like John. John Lennon was the rebel I wish I could be. Nursing school in the late 1960s didn't allow for much individuality, but at least I had The Beatles. At least there was John.

And from nursing school, I started my life as an RN, married and had my daughter. My daughter was almost 10, her birthday would be on December 10, when John was murdered. I was 33. I was devastated. I'd lost another hero. Heather, a true 10 year old, was worried about her birthday party. Only a few people understood my loss. Only a few people still do.

As my daughter grew, she understood. She learned Photoshop and one Mother's Day she gave me this picture of me and my hero - of course, it never happened. But it had...in my heart.

On Journals and Blogs...

2010-10-07T20:51:00.002-04:00

I thought about this after reading Dorothy and Thomas Hoolber's The Monsters - a book about the Shelleys, Lord Byron and their unusual households.

The summer that Mary Godwin ran away with the married Percy Bysshe Shelley, she and the poet wrote a journal together. Many people wrote a journal - many of those journals were written during travels and were eventually published - since most people couldn't travel, these journals gave them a sense of the world.

Biographers owe their information to journals. Interestingly, the Hooblers note that many of the pages in Mary Shelley's journal and her stepsister's journal (Clair was a paramour of Byron and possibly Shelley) had been removed - time periods and notations of things that could have shed more light on the intricate relationships of these creative people.

After his death, Mary Shelley spent time reviewing her husband's journals and letters, expunging any parts of his history that would not have lived up to the aura she was building. As a free-thinker of the beginning of the early Victorian period, Percy Shelley's life needed expunging.

Blogs are the journals of the 21st century with one huge difference: blogs go public immediately. No one will be expunging anything I've written here. It's already published to the world - or at the least the world that cares.

Trust me. I write with that knowledge

Sixth Anniversary...

2010-10-07T20:18:00.000-04:00

...of this blog.
Six years ago my posts were long and full of angst - mostly because I'd just been dumped and my daughter was planning to move to Seattle. Can you say "rejection"?
Times have changed: Heather's found a good life in Seattle and I found Morgan.
Result:
Shorter posts with less angst.
And every so often a post that means something.
Go to www.witchlit.blogspot.com if you want more intellect.
Here, it's just plain old Witchy-poo.
Six years older and an awful lot happier.

Seventy Years Ago Today

2010-10-07T19:28:00.000-04:00

October 9, 1940

Happy 70th, John.

Why I Heart My Kindle

2010-10-07T18:39:00.002-04:00

Because I never know what I'll want to read tomorrow.
It could be a true crime, or a mystery or a Gothic (with a capital "G") or a romance or a biography...
And there they all are at my fingertips - literally.
Literally and figuratively at my fingertips.

The Sun is OUT

2010-10-07T12:08:00.002-04:00

And, can I say it?
Should I say it?
Is it possible that I'm getting better?
Maybe not coughing quite as much?
Maybe?
I just want my life to get back to normal - whatever that was.

Being Sick

2010-10-05T09:37:00.000-04:00

Forty years ago I was living alone in a small apartment and working as an RN in a hospital. I hated my job and called off as often as I could without getting fired. You see, I never wanted to be a nurse - but that's an old story.

Fate stepped in one day all those years ago and I got very ill - high fever, cough, the works. I imagined that Robert Kennedy was in my apartment taking care of me. Since he'd been dead for several years at that time, maybe I wasn't imagining it.

Eventually I got better. Eventually I also got married and became a mother. And the major breadwinner of the family. Those days of calling off on a whim were over. I had to work.

Something must have switched in my brain. I began to work overtime. I worked when someone else called off. The money was good but it was as if I'd changed. I still didn't want to be a nurse. But I had responsibilities.

Now it's worse. I feel guilty when I'm really sick and not working. I go in, cough, and try to stay away from everyone else. But that's not doing me any good. At 63 I don't bounce back as fast and relapse quickly.

I promised Morgan that I would not wait to go to the doctor like I did this time. I could be over this now if it wasn't for my stubbornness.

I have to switch something in my brain again - to focus on me, not work. I think it's about time, too.

The Three Rs on the Weekend

2010-10-03T19:00:00.002-04:00

Reading
'Riting
Relationship

I love all of the above but find at times I only have the energy to do one or two a day. Yesterday was a day for "the relationship". I do love being with Morgan. We have a lot in common and just enough differences to make it interesting. But he's retired and I still work, so our "Morgan and Mitzi" time is on the weekends. "Mitzi" time is also on the weekends. So I'm finding that I have to almost fight myself for time to do the things I want to do - which is everything.

And today my URI was a bit worse - mainly because I tried to do too much too early - so 'riting took a backseat to the Fourth R: Resting.

Of Soars and earplugs...

2010-10-01T00:08:00.000-04:00

I just came home from Soars' Record Release party in Bethlehem.
I loved their sound live and even more in the confines of my car, listening to the CD on the way home. The music is haunting...something that stays with you.
However, I'm not an objective observer. My nephew, Chris Giordani, is the lead singer and guitar player for the three-man, one woman group.
I've never been to a Record Release Party and was thrilled to be included - the oldest one there.
The groups before Soars, Arc in Round and Lower Berth, were great. After the first set I realized why there were earplugs at the entrance. As a veteran of many concerts, including three Beatles concerts with loud music and screams, I scoffed at the earplugs. Any damage to my ears was done almost fifty years ago, thank you. I listened bare-eared.
I listened and I enjoyed and I remembered, in a room filled with people less than half my age, that my heart is a heart of rock...and roll...the louder, the better.

Sick Day Thoughts

2010-09-27T13:14:00.000-04:00

I awoke with a hacking cough that I couldn't get rid of and decided, for once, to be a good nurse and take a sick day. I made the necessary phone calls and went back to bed. Minus bathroom and phone call breaks I slept from 8 PM until 10 AM. So I guess I needed it.

I'm now watching an marathon of X-Files episodes that I recorded. The one on now stars the wonderful Tony Shalub as a physicist with a bit too much..er...physics....

Sick Days are very difficult for me. I hate to come back after a sick day. I feel like I've played hooky - even when I'm really sick. I like being lazy but I hate being lazy when I feel crappy. I feel crappy but also feel like I should be doing something constructive - like writing or getting out Halloween decorations. Dragging out decorations will get me coughing again. I feel too crappy to concentrate on writing more than this blog.

So I guess I'll brew a cup of tea, nice and strong with some honey, and go back to Mulder and Scully. At least I'm taking notes on ideas for X-Files inspired stories (finding a dead elephant in a South American jungle was one)- and other interesting tidbits: like Fox's badge number. Yep, jotted it down. Ya never know when something like that can be important.

I wonder if I can find an FBI badge at a flea market.....
Yeah - I really want to be Mulder, even if I've written that I'd like to be Blomkvist. Maybe there's not that much difference between to two: Don Quixotes tilting at windmills.
Mulder's were just harder to see.

The Dream...or Nightmare

2010-09-25T08:36:00.000-04:00

I had the dream again.
THAT dream.
I dreamed that I was working as a general duty nurse, an RN, on a nursing unit - maybe a hospital, maybe a nursing home, could have been either, or both....knowing my dreams.

I was in charge of the unit. I'm always in charge in the dream - I was the Charge Nurse, the Unit Manager. But I didn't know how to divide up the staff and the patients...I was having problems making the assignments for the shift. I can still see the paper in front of me...I can still feel the frustration of trying to assign residents to staff.

First off the staff weren't wearing name tags. I couldn't tell if they were RNs, LPNs or aides.
And then I didn't know how many patients I had. How big was the unit? How big were the rooms? What was wrong with the patients? All things I needed to know to make an assignment. All things I didn't know but was trying to figure out.

In my dream I decided to "make rounds" - I walked from room to room. Actually it was ward to ward - many patients, 6, 8 or 10, in a large ward. There was no running water, no bathrooms, little privacy.
My nightmare hospital ward was populated by patients with IVs, tube feedings, oxygen. Patients were dying, they were confused and restrained, they were in pain. People were crying, yelling. Their linens were soiled. I was in charge of this hell. I was frantic with the responsibility because I was "in charge".

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized I was dreaming. I made myself wake up. My heart was beating fast, tachycardia. I laid a hand on my chest and I could feel the pounding. I had to meditate to bring the rate down.

I have this nightmare at least several times a year. The nightmare of returning to general duty nursing, a job I never really wanted, but one I did for more than 20 years.

Of course the nursing ward from hell is not a reality. But the work and the overwhelming responsibility is.
Thank goddess it was a dream.
I never want to return to the reality.

Retirement

2010-09-23T07:03:00.000-04:00

I am looking forward to it.
I'm looking forward to getting up when I want.
I'm looking forward to walking "the block" with Morgan in the cool morning air.
I'm looking forward to spending my mornings writing and my afternoons reading.
But yesterday, as I sat in the back of Northampton Community Center where some of us were giving a presentation to almost 100 people from our facilities, I was thinking about another part of retirement.
I would miss these people, some of whom I've worked with for more than 20 years.
I would miss being a resource.
I would miss the camaraderie.
I would miss the friendship.
But I'm still looking forward to retirement and coming back to see everyone when I have some free time.

Why Do DUMB Stuff While Driving...

2010-09-19T12:44:00.001-04:00

I had an AHA! moment while driving across Pennsylvania on the PA Turnpike last week.
Now let me get one thing straight: I love the Turnpike; the new rest stops look great and I love getting my Starbucks fix every 30 or so miles, not to mention the great new toilets.
However, driving is boring, especially when it's the same route to the same place over and over and over...
I listen to audio books.
So, I'm not usually bored. But the AHA-moment came when I'd pulled out onto the turnpike after a stop and had yet to hit "play". I tooled down the highway and thought, "What a waste of time..."
That's what people think...people who call, text, read their Kindle (Yep - there was a news item about a bus driver who did just that - must have been some book)...
Driving, for many people, is a waste of time. "May as well get some other stuff done while I'm driving..."
Hmmm? Like...no! Not if I'm anywhere near you, you shouldn't. I value my life.
That's why I love the rest stops along the PA Turnpike. That's when I call, text or read my Kindle...
When I've come to a full stop and the car is in park and maybe even while I'm sitting inside.
People get bored while they're driving. Life is so fast-paced anymore that we have so much to do, maybe too much to do. Too much to get done in the time we have.
So why not make use of the down-time while driving?
Just don't. Please, just don't.
Pull into a parking place, turn off the car before you turn on the phone.
Especially if you want more time...

Retirement Age...

2010-09-15T21:14:00.000-04:00

...should be raised. At least that's what some believe. We're living longer and many people think that living a third of one's life "on vacation" is unpatriotic - us geezers should just keep on working.

Well, now - seeing as how many of the people proclaiming that have sedentary jobs as pundits, I must disagree.

I've spent 45 years in nursing: 3 years as a student nurse (during a time when we were "labor" in a hospital) and 42 years as an RN. I'm tired. I'm not only tired but I have structural issues in my spine, slipped discs and degenerative disc disease from many years of lifting patients without mechanical devices (a relatively new phenomena that happened when insurance companies realized it was cheaper to pay for mechanical lifts than worker comp claims.)

While working I've been kicked, punched, bitten and hit over the head with a large glass bottle, knocking me unconscious. I've been verbally and physically abused. I've worked double shifts and even 24 hour shifts because weather prevented the next two shifts from coming on duty. I've worked in six bed wards with no running water, making countless trips up and down hallways just to bathe patients. Most of my nursing life was spent working without air conditioning. For half of my professional life I worked every other weekend. There was a time when I worked every Christmas Eve and Christmas. After my daughter was born I worked evening shift and never got home before midnight.

Forty-two years ago I started out earning less than $4/hour as an RN. I had no pension and no 401k. My health insurance didn't include maternity benefits and when I got pregnant right after getting married, I had to pay for everything before the baby was due - to the hospital where I was employed.

My present job is stressful. Last year I had an episode of accelerated hypertension, spent time in the hospital and finally needed a stent in a renal artery. I'm on lots of medication, including anti-anxiety and antidepressants. I travel across the state for my job - driving myself - which doesn't help my back.

I'm tired. I want to retire at 65, not 66, not 67, not 70.
There are other things I want to do with my life - whatever life I have left.
I keep thinking that my mother died at 69.
I want more time with Morgan, with Heather, with myself - not more time with a job.

What's Up with This?

2010-09-15T05:45:00.000-04:00

From the great blog: www.naturalplane.blogpot.com comes an unbelievable story:

School Suspends Crying Son of Murdered Man Because His Eyes Were Red

A high school in the town of Trophy Club, TX suspended a 16-year-old boy because he came to school with bloodshot eyes. School administrators say that's enough to make the case he was using marijuana.

When the boy's mother called the school to explain that the boy had been crying because his father had been murdered, the school said the boy could return to school, provided the boy pass a drug test.

He took the test, and was allowed to return to school.

The boy's mother says she is trying to get the district to remove the suspension from his permanent record. Administrators told her she must go through the formal appeals process for that to happen.

And that's how it works in the happy hamlet of Trophy Club, TX.

Mitzi's note: It's time to re-evaluate the drug-paranoia in this country and what we may be doing to our children because of it.

Morgan's Bookshelves

2010-09-12T09:01:00.000-04:00

Morgan said he was going to build bookshelves over the sofa on the sun porch. He did!

What Is Done Because of "Beliefs"

2010-09-11T07:38:00.001-04:00

This story came from CNN via the wonderful blog: www.naturalplane.blogspot.com and I though it was definitely appropriate for today. Our "beliefs" can destroy...

Belize Animal Sanctuary Burned to Ground...Villagers Believe Missing Children Fed to Crocodiles

CNN - An American couple in Belize struggled Tuesday to figure out their future, their dreams literally up in smoke after a mob of indigenous Mayans burned down their animal sanctuary in the belief the foreigners fed two missing children to crocodiles on their property.

Cherie and Vince Rose moved to the tiny Central American nation in 2004 to form a 36-acre sanctuary for two species of endangered crocodiles found in Belize -- the American and Morelet's crocodiles.

Bit by bit, their hope turned into reality. They built a two-story octagonal house that rested on stilts and reached 30 feet into the air. They constructed two smaller cottages to house researchers and students. They dug out two acres of canals for the crocodiles. They acquired two boats.

They called the place the American Crocodile Education Sanctuary.

Most of it vanished Sunday morning, when a throng of angry villagers from a settlement about 10 miles away torched the buildings on their property. A local psychic had told the villagers that the Americans had fed the two missing children to the 17 crocodiles at the sanctuary, police say.

The Roses were rescuing three crocodiles on a distant island at the time, so were not home to ward off the attack -- or possibly suffer a gruesome fate.

"It was like something out of a Frankenstein movie," Cherie Rose said Tuesday. "If we'd been home, they would have killed us. They said they were going to chop us up and feed us to the crocodiles."

National police confirm that the indigenous Maya villagers were acting on the advice of a psychic who said the Roses had something to do with the August 7 disappearance of 11-year-old Benjamin Rash and his 9-year-old sister Onelia.

"They have their own superstitions," Deputy Police Commissioner James Magdaleno said about the Maya, who make up about 10 percent of Belize's population. "Because of their beliefs, they decided to take the law into their own hands."
No arrests have been made, the deputy commissioner told CNN.
"We don't know who burned the house," he said. "That is still under investigation."
Police also questioned Vince Rose about the missing children, but no connection was established, Magdaleno said Tuesday.
For the Roses, the drama unfolded in excruciating slow motion from far away.
They traveled August 29 to rescue some crocodiles on Ambergris Caye, a Caribbean Sea island off the northeastern coast of Belize. Their sanctuary in Punta Gorda is on the Caribbean coast in southeastern Belize, more than five hours away by land and airplane.
On Friday, September 3, the couple received phone calls from friends saying that truckloads of people from the village of San Marcos were on their way to the sanctuary to burn it down. The Roses sent their caretaker to the compound, but everyone was gone by the time he got there. The area around the two cottages had been trashed, though.
The Roses got more calls from friends Saturday, again telling them that villagers with shotguns and machetes were on their way to the sanctuary. The caretaker was afraid to go there, Cherie Rose said, so they called police that night. The police said they couldn't go on the property because the Roses' two mixed-breed dogs were barking and would not allow them to enter, Cherie Rose recounted.
"By 9 a.m. Sunday, we were receiving frantic calls and texts," Cherie Rose said.
By the time police got there, it was too late.
"They told us, 'Oh, we're sorry. Your place is burning to the ground as we speak,' " Cherie Rose said.
Life has been numbingly painful since.
"We're in shock," she said. "We're totally devastated."
Vince Rose still found it difficult to talk about the sanctuary Tuesday, having to stop several times during a phone interview to compose himself.
"They lost everything," Deputy Commissioner Magdaleno said Tuesday.
Well, maybe not quite everything. Their two dogs -- Rio and Maya -- survived.
So did their spirit. They don't know quite how, but they vow to stay in Belize and start all over.
"We love what we do, and the adventure is just incredible," said Cherie Rose, who is 44 and said she has a biology degree from Slippery Rock University in Pennsylvania. "We do more in one day than some people do in a lifetime.
"We are going to stay in Belize. We are going to fight this. I'm not abandoning those crocodiles down there."
Her 48-year-old husband agrees.
"What we created was absolutely beautiful," Vince Rose said. "No, I'm not going. We're not letting them run us out of this country."

A Morning Dust-up

2010-09-04T12:15:00.003-04:00

I'm old enough to remember "The Thrilla in Manilla". This was "The Bitchin' in the Kitchen."

I awoke to a wonderfully sunny Saturday morning after a nice long sleep. I was refreshed and ready to roll. I even had some goals.

Those great goals had to wait while Lenny Six-toes and Murray the Monster had their go-around.
I found Lenny on the bathroom sink getting a drink and Murray sitting outside of the bathroom door keeping Lenny in.

I checked the automatic water bottle - almost empty. I immediately filled it. Murray scooted in and dunked his paw in to make sure the water was real. Lenny stood at the entrance to the kitchen, watching. Murray took two sips and walked away. Then Lenny went to the water dish and on the way received a whack from Murray. Lenny backed off, not realizing that Murray was a clawless as he is.

I shooed Murray away to allow Lenny some space. Then I sat down with my coffee.
Mistake.
I should have stayed in the kitchen.
Evidently Murray went back in to tell Lenny he'd had enough to drink and the Bitchin' in the Kitchen began. What a dust-up. I had to break it up twice - once Murray tried to stand on top of the large plastic water bottle.

But now all is calm. I had cats around me as I read - Murray and Huusker on the back of the loveseat and Six-toes on my lap.

I'm waiting for the Brawl in the Bathroom.

A Quiet Weekend...

2010-08-19T07:14:00.002-04:00

Exactly what I need.
We'll be going to the Endless Mountains in upper state Pennsylvania this weekend.
A weekend without TV, phones, computers...
I'm taking a book and a notebook (one with paper, not a screen).
We'll be taking walks in the woods, reading, writing, napping.
I'll practice shooting...and napping.
I'll watch the birds...and nap.
I'll relax...and nap.
Did I mention: napping. A thoroughly underrated activity that restores memory, energy and the soul.
Exactly what I need.

Used Book Sales

2010-08-17T06:22:00.003-04:00

Like a gambler going to Atlantic City, Vegas or any number of Pennsylvania locations, I should not go to these. However, I do...willingly.

I went to the Oley Community Library Used Book sale Saturday with Morgan. There is no Oley Community Library - they want one - that's why they're having a used book sale. Sigh. Sort of like having a bake sale to fund the police department. I know how Oley used to do that, but that story's for a different post.

I love used book sales. I never know what I'll find. At this one I found the memorial edition of Profiles in Courage (immediately borrowed by Olivia as soon as she saw it). I bought two other books. One is a Josephine Tey mystery - she's been one of my favorites since she convinced me that Richard III wasn't all that evil in her book Daughter of Time.

Looking over all the books carefully packed in boxes with the boxes labeled and placed on tables under tents, I wondered what will happen to "used book sales" if the Kindle and the Nook become the most popular form of reading.

I handed The Little Stranger to my coworker, Kim yesterday. "I don't have to buy books with all that you give me to read."

"Enjoy it while it lasts," I said. "I get my Kindle in a couple of weeks."

Enjoy it while it lasts, used book sales...

A Taste of Retirement

2010-08-15T08:47:00.004-04:00

Should I tell people I want to retire in two years or should I leave people guessing?
I think I need to plan and the company needs to plan for my future absence. Not that they will die without me. I would love to think I'm invaluable but I know I'm not.
And I need to know what it would be like to go from "full-speed" to "slow". Or would I?

I had Thursday and Friday off this week - with no travel plans. I usually spend my vacation days going somewhere - this year to Seattle to see Heather and then to England.

The results of two days with no travel plans:
Morgan and I spent Thursday at Musikfest - in the rain. We enjoyed it. We seem to enjoy anything we do together. Did I mention that Morgan is retired?
Friday was spent (sans Morgan), editing The Last Prophecy and reading.
Saturday was my RWA chapter meeting (Pocono Lehigh Romance Writers), errands, and then dinner, the Oley Peach Festival and book sale with Morgan.
Sunday?
Today's agenda: Writing, laundry and straightening up the apartment because Morgan, Olivia and Josh will be over before we go to a play in the evening.
I'm sure, if I were retired, not every day would be packed with activities.
For most days I would like to follow the Stephen King schedule: write in the morning, take a walk, read in the afternoon.
And I would have enough projects to keep me busy.
I have to finish editing another book, Moonstone Magic.
I have to work on The Change and Daffodil Season (both unfinished).
I have to finish another Macie Carter novella, When in Rome.
And that's not counting the short stories swirling around in my head...
Or our plans to travel.

Now that I've had a taste of retirement, I may want the whole pie.

Two Favorite Authors

2010-08-07T09:28:00.003-04:00

Image from www,darkhorizons.com

Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child have become, together and separately, two of my favorite authors.

I just finished reading "Thunderhead" and was transfixed by the information on the Anasazi and archeology - not to mention the suspense.

I will continue to read anything they write together or individually. Their books are not just great escapes but educational.

Morgan's Disney and Harry Potter Pics

2010-08-05T07:21:00.003-04:00

Jaden in "England" at Epcot

Hogwart's School

Cinderella's Castle

Bridezillas...

2010-08-03T06:11:00.002-04:00

One of my many guilty pleasures.

I record the show and then fast forward through the stupid parts. I do a lot of fast forwarding.
But last night I was watching a train wreck named Maria who was decidedly not as perfect as she claimed to be. I heard this 20 year old know-everything say she was not going to work; she was going to stay home and do nothing, not even the housework or cooking.
WTF???

Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong:

Oh, yeah, now I remember: I went to nursing school and had a job when I got married. I never thought I would NOT work. I hoped for a part time job and eventually got that - however, I also had a full time job while working the part time one.

But not this Bridezilla - she's doing nothing.
Hmmmm...
Odds on how long this wonderful marriage will last?
Maybe not as long as mine.

All she wants to do is...

2010-08-02T06:05:00.002-04:00

...read.

With Morgan sweltering in Disney World, I found I had a free weekend on my hands.
What to do?
What to do?
I could write...
But there was also that towering TBR stack of books.
So being the good procrastinator, I decided to pick one of them.
Aha! The new Agent Pendergast book, Fever Dream, by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child.
And for one weekend I immersed myself in the odd world of the eccentric Special Agent, a character I've loved since reading The Relic, the first book in the series.

I met Lincoln Child at a Deadly Ink writers conference and was pleased to tell him how much I loved the series and that I wanted to read his stand-alone works. I chose Utopia, trouble in a mega amusement park, ala Disney. I escaped into that book, too.

So that's what I did this weekend without my Morgan, I escaped. I ran away with Special Agent Pendergast and company. I met the series new villain. I lived an exciting, interesting two days, learning about Carolina Parakeets and Audubon along the way.

There are times when we all need to escape.
And sometimes all I want to do is...read.

Musikfest 2010

2010-08-01T09:06:00.006-04:00

The yellow "Musikfest Parking" signs are everywhere.
If this was 15 years ago, I would be excited looking forward to my vacation.
I used to spend a week of my vacation at Musikfest, the decades long huge music festival that shuts down various sections of Bethlehem, PA.
I would carefully save money so I would have $20 to $25 a day to spend on food tickets and a CD if I liked the performer. I bought the shuttle/trolley pin as soon as they were on sale so I could ride the shuttle bus from the parking lots and the trolley around the platzes for one price. I also bought the book of schedules and carefully plotted my course between platzes to see the performers I thought were the best. Most of the time I would spend the better part of the day at one platz, usually Leiderplatz or Volksplatz, and then head home by dark to avoid Main Street and the drunks.
Yep there were drunken rowdies at Musikfest - still are.
Last year one of them sucker-punched the horse of a mounted cop.
No lie.

Musikfest was my vacation spot every year.
And I would get teased about it - by people who took vacations to Mexico, the Bahamas, etc.
I would just shrug. It was what I could afford.
I went every year - except the year Rich Korpics was in U of P Hospital waiting for a heart transplant.
I went when it stormed.
I went when there was a tornado warning.
I went when it was 100 degrees.
But times, any my salary, have changed.
And so have I and so has Musikfest.
It's still the best place to hear all different types of music and most of it for free.
But I don't spend a week's vacation to go.
Sometimes I don't go at all.
I'm older and spend my vacation $ and time going to other places: England, Seattle to see Heather, Gettysburg.
I'm older and I can't handle the crowds as well - even the afternoon crowds that are not so drunk and rowdy.
I'm older and I can't handle the heat as well - or the walking.
But this year, I have tickets to Cherish the Ladies. I love that group. Morgan and I may spend the afternoon at Leiderplatz or Volksplatz and then take the short stroll to the evening concert. We may go again on Friday, if the weather's not too hot and there's something we want to see/hear.
And that will be my Musikfesting for the year.
The festival is changing, getting larger with more ticketed venues and more drinking, and I don't seem to fit into it anymore; maybe I've changed, too.
Change is not always bad.
But sometimes it's not all good, either.

22...

2010-07-30T06:14:00.004-04:00

It's like "Cher"... nothing needs to be added to the name.

If you live in the Lehigh Valley, you just need to say "22" and you hear the groans and the moans.
Yesterday evening I was once again stuck on 22...that's Route 22 to those of you who live in the country...another country.

I get stuck on 22 often since I drive back and forth across the state for work. I'm usually driving home, eastward, during the evening rush hour. Now THERE'S a misnomer: "rush" hour. There's NO rushing on 22 during "rush" hour. It should be called "slow" hour or "stop" hour or "why is that truck on my a-s while we're only going 5 miles an hour" hour.

Yesterday, while I was stuck on the Lehigh Valley's longest, narrowest parking lot, I thought about...retiring.

Then I would go out on 22 between 1PM and 3 PM when everyone else was working.
Or maybe I would just not go on 22 ever again.
It's not like I would have to.

The Pope Is Wrong

2010-07-25T08:59:00.002-04:00

Another great article from www.naturalplane.blogspot.com.

I've been thinking about this news and how I would write about it - I couldn't do better than this.

Vatican Inquisition Warning to Outspoken American Nuns

I spent an afternoon with six nuns. They are all women of a certain age who look like your grandmother. White hair. Sensible shoes.

These sisters have served the church faithfully for decades. They have advanced academic degrees. And experience running complex things like hospitals and schools.

They are furious.

Not a ranting, raving kind of fury. But a quieter, deeper anger born of betrayal and disrespect.

And it's directed quite specifically. Not at priests in general, because these nuns honor and respect many of the priests they know. They are outraged at specific priests who have betrayed the cloth. And at the curia in Rome which, in its insulation and tone-deafness, has time and again failed to respond in a timely, open and transparent manner to the worst of all abuses -- the violation of young people under their protection.

The sisters and I met over the Fourth of July weekend. The Vatican had not yet issued its mind-boggling declaration of "grave sins" that stuck the attempted ordination of women on the same list as pedophilia. That outrage was yet to come.

Instead, the sisters and I talked about the continuing Vatican investigation of nuns. It is a two-pronged probe in which religious orders of women in America are being questioned about their lifestyles, their faithfulness to church orthodoxy and about their concerns for the future of the church.

One nun told me that one of the sisters in her order responded recently to her Vatican-sent questioner by saying that among her serious concerns were the continued revelations about priestly pedophilia. No sooner had she given that answer than she realized from the look on her inquisitor's face that she'd just flunked the test.

The interrogation of American nuns, as you may know, will not result in a published report. The Vatican will conclude its chilling probe but will keep its conclusions to itself. A stern way of warning sisters they'd better straighten up and fly right, that someone above them is watching. No, not God. But the boys in Rome who are displeased with their independence and outspokenness. That no doubt includes Cardinal Bernard Law, the obstructor of justice from Boston about whom I have written often. Law lives a fabulous life in Rome, flies first class and remains a member of the College of Cardinals despite his massive role in the church's cover-up of pedophilia in the United States.

Law has never been prosecuted, defrocked or excommunicated. The church saves its speedy justice for its women. Like Sister Margaret McBride, an administrator at St. Joseph's Hospital in Phoenix, who in May realized the only way to save the life of a pregnant 26-year-old mother of four was to abort her fetus. Otherwise, both mother and baby would die.

Bishop Thomas J. Olmstead quickly excommunicated her. His decision has horrified many Catholic clergy and lay people alike.

On the heels of that shocking injustice dispensed to a sister dedicated to saving lives came the church's July document explaining "more grave sins."

It was supposed to demonstrate just how seriously the church is now dealing with relentless, daily revelations of sex abuse across Europe.

And to express the church's determination to deal expeditiously with offenders.

But by tossing in the attempted ordination of women, it looked for all the world as though the Vatican was equating the two.

Not so, assured Archbishop Donald Wuerl of Washington.

Wuerl "was left to attempt to convince the skeptics in the United States that the Church loves and values women," according to the National Catholic Reporter.

Sure it does.

As long as they know their place.

A Weird Idea...

2010-07-24T07:38:00.006-04:00

We all know I'm weird.
I've accepted that.
I follow all the "paranormal" news and I've even posted some here.
While reading one of my weird magazines (World Explorer), I had a thought (yeah, yeah - a weird thought):
There seems to have been an increasing amount of weirdness going on, or rather, weirdness sightings, over the last few years. Crop Circles. Bigfoot. Huge Fish. Large Black Cats. UFOs. Ghosts. Fairies.
We are less than two years away from what one of the few surviving Mayan Codexes may have noted as the end of....something.... just what it's the end of is unclear.
The Date is (of course, if you don't know, you've been living on Venus and if you have been living on Venus, you've got one helluva tan)...cue the base drum roll... 12/21/12 or if you're in Europe: 21/12/12.
So just what will happen?
Some theories:
1. Nuthin' and we'll all turn over in our snuggy beds and dream of sugar plums. (Remember the Y2K crap?)
2. Some people will freak out and act out, more so than usual.
3. "New Agers" (and I sometimes count myself in that mystical group) think that there will be a shift in consciousness. Huh? Not unless we're all shifting at the same time in the same direction. I, for one, cannot see a fanatic Muslim who wants to stone female rape victims suddenly turning into Alan Alda on 12/21/12.
4. And to be politically correct with #3, nor do I see fundamentalist Christians who believe that the rest of us are going to Hell in a very large handbasket changing their ideas on the same day.
5. There will be a shift in the earth's crust. It has happened before and if it happens in 2012, let me just say that you should give your Christmas presents early because if this earth moves, ain't nuthin' gonna be left.
6. There could be a Polar Shift - this has also happened before and results are the same as #5.
7. Various other astronomical and geographical scenarios that my poor brain cannot wrap around - but that would led to "THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT".

So what does all of the above have to do with the increase weirdness that is going on?
Maybe, just maybe, all of the "sightings" are things, animals, people that live in a different dimension. Look it up. Scientists do believe there are different dimensions other than what we see.
Maybe the dividing line between the other dimension(s) and ours is thinning...allowing us to see beings that exist in their own "place" but sometimes "bleed" into ours.
And maybe that line is thinning because...well...we're getting close to (cue the Law and Order theme): 12/21/12, when the dimensions will merge.

Fairies and elves and bigfoots...oh, my.

See, I told you I was weird.
But remember - I did predict the housing crash - and right on this very blog, too.

Just sayin'....

Getting Ready for the Weekend...

2010-07-22T07:26:00.002-04:00

...sometimes begins Thursday morning.
Yesterday was another long day at work - no writing, some reading when I got home.
I already warned Dave that today cannot be another long day - hair appointment (for me, not him) at 5:30.
Morgan may be up tomorrow.
Sooooo....this morning I was up at 4:30 (that's AM), did some straightening up in the apartment, got ready for work and went to the grocery store.
I just finished putting groceries away and in plenty of time to make it to work...early.
I may be snoring while Maryann colors my gray, but at least one pre-weekend chore is done.

If not now, when...

2010-07-21T07:25:00.002-04:00

My father told me never to volunteer - he'd been in the army.
I never listened to Pop.
I've done volunteer work for most of my adult life.
From the Cancer Society to the Heart Association to animal shelters to writers groups.
My volunteer spirit ended when I ended up in a hospital bed with accelerated hypertension, caused by a blocked renal artery and a work load that keeps on growing.
I can't stop working, so I limit what I do outside of work.
Spending time for me, spending time with Morgan, all decreases my stress.
I may go back to volunteering when I retire but until then, I'm volunteering for Mitzi.
"If not now, when?"
If I don't take care of me now, there may be no later.

Name That Cat...

2010-07-18T16:05:00.003-04:00

He doesn't answer to Snowfoot.
He doesn't answer to LalalalaLola.
He doesn't answer to Poncho.

He does have six toes - at least on his front feet.

Today Morgan told me about a camp counselor he worked with as a young man; the counselor had six toes on each foot. Morgan and a friend would pull a prank on this counselor by telling the campers that this counselor's extra toe was fake and the campers would win a prize if they could take it off while he slept.

"Yep," Morgan said. "That was Six-Toe Lenny."
"That's what I should name the cat!" I said. "Heck, he doesn't answer to anything so I can give him a new name every week."

So when I got home, I looked at the six-toed cat, lying on his perch by the window, and I said, "Lenny, time to eat."
He was in the kitchen before I was.
Now maybe he knows the word "eat" or maybe, just maybe, I've finally found the right name.

Lenny.
For Six-Toed Lenny?
Nah....for Lenny Briscoe and besides, it goes well with Murray.

Polydactyl Kitty

2010-07-17T07:19:00.002-04:00

I'm usually VERY observant.
I'm a nurse - it's part of my job.
I just thought Poncho had big feet and the more I looked at him, the more I thought the vet who had removed his front claws had done something wrong.
Cats are notorious for not letting you touch their feet. Poncho's no different, even while sitting on my lap.
So I just kept looking and looking and suddenly...
Damn cat has an extra toe on each front foot...not sure about the back ones.
Will let you know after I buy extra band-aids.

Believe It or .....

2010-07-17T07:12:00.002-04:00

I post this because I was in England the first week of June and even though our tour guide drove us through parts of Wiltshire noted for Crop Circles, we saw none. Jamie did say they usually appear later in June or July.

Man-made? I don't know. Alien-made? Don't know that either. Nature-made? This is the latest theory - something to do with plasma and electromagnetic fields and stuff I know nothing about.
Interesting? You Betcha!

From: www.naturalplane.blogspot.com The BEST place to find weird information (You just knew I would love it, right?)

Photos: Recent Crop Circle Formations

A trio of intriguing crop circles have appear recently. The top image is that of a crop circle found on July 13th, 2010 at Guys Cliffe, near Old Milverton, Warwickshire. The middle image was taken at Clay Hill, Warminster, Wiltshire on July 11th, 2010 and the last image was taken the same day in another location in Wiltshire.

The crop circle phenomenon started in Westbury, just three miles north of Warminster in August 1980 and last month 200 crop circles have appeared in one elaborate formation in the nearby village of Mere.

Some believe Westbury's proximity to the prehistoric stone circles at Stonehenge and Avebury is the reason for the strange goings-on.

Others say it is because it lies on the confluence of two so-called leylines, which link spots said to have 'mystical energy'.

Conspiracy theorists put them down to the proximity of Salisbury Plain, home of secret military work.

**********

When Can I Retire Rant

2010-07-16T06:49:00.004-04:00

I'm tired.
Forty-two years as a nurse.
I'm tired.
I'm happy to have the job I have, but there are other things I want to do.
I want to write.
I want to be the one with a book signing (yeah, the ole green-eyed monster - I'm human). I've been writing for 50 years; writing for publication for 2o years.
I cannot let the day job exhaust me to the point that I can't do anything else.
I've got to keep thinking about Morgan fixing up the sun porch with two desks, one for each of us.
The prize I'm keeping my eye on.

He's Baaaaaaaaack!

2010-07-14T08:05:00.004-04:00

My good neighbors saw a cat sitting on my patio, looking sadly in the window. They closed the gate and put the babygate up so he couldn't go anywhere and then called the apartment management, who called me.

It was the FC, or now affectionately called Poncho.
Kiss him or kill him?
I kissed and hugged and cooed and when I put him down inside the apartment, he made a beeline to the food.

Last night he spent most of his time on my lap (and I spent most of my time getting out many tiny, tiny burrs that had caught in his long fur)- same this morning.
I hope he's learned that being a well-cared for house cat is a lot better than living out in the wild.
And let's hope that memory is a lasting one.
Welcome home, Snowfoot/LalalalaLola/Poncho/the FC.
Now sit...stay.

(P.S. I just discovered that I have multiple mosquito bites from my night of sleeping on the grass waiting for the prodigal cat.)

Looking for The Lost

2010-07-12T18:21:00.002-04:00

Here's what I'm doing:
1. Driving (when it rains) or walking around the complex looking for the FC
2. Fliers offering a $100 reward are now up on all the mailboxes. I hope some kids on school vacation find that attractive.
3. The local SPCA has been alerted. They'll call me if a perpetrator answering the FC's description is brought in.
4. A "Lost" ad in the local daily newspaper.
5. Olivia is also driving around looking for him.

Don't know what more I can do - just keep hoping he shows up.
I am not sleeping outside tonight - calling for rain. I have to draw the line somewhere.

The Continuing Saga of FC

2010-07-11T10:19:00.002-04:00

I walked around the complex this morning, calling "kitty, kitty, kitty....f--in' kitty..." Actually left off the last one. I want to stay here a little while longer.
I think the FC had an ulterior motive: to get me off my a-s and walking. I will walk again this evening.
I used my new Sletchers Shape-ups and I lost 30 pounds in that one walk.
I lie.
They're comfortable but feel a bit funny at times, like I'm going to tip over - and no wine yet, even though it IS 5 PM SOMEWHERE.
The dry food I put out last night is almost gone - but that could have been any number of critters - lots of wooded areas around here.
Tomorrow I put up fliers.
Don't know if FC can read, but, if he can, he'll know I'm looking for him.

The Great Escape - Part Two

2010-07-10T05:37:00.003-04:00

Well, the F---in' Cat did it again. Determined SOB, he is....

Midnight, I'm awake and I couldn't go back to sleep.
I decided to read.
I could have picked any one of the hundreds of books in my apartment, but Nooooooooo....
I had to pick the one that was in my car.
I had to shoo FC away from the door with a loud NO!
Went out to the car in bare feet (this time was wearing my shorts, thank the Goddess)...
Got my book out of the car and as I slowly, carefully opened the front door to go back inside....
Swoosh....a streak of beige and white ran past me.
I got the flashlight (the million-watt one).
I roamed the complex.
I went to the wooded areas (and we have a lot - one of the reasons I live here).
I looked under cars.
I got out the wet Meow Mix and carried it around so long I smelled like salmon and tuna.
I sat on my front yard with the Meow Mix.
Then finally I sat the cat fud on the patio and went inside...
To bed?
Oh, no, not guilty old me.
I plopped down on the floor in front of the open patio door and waited...
And waited....
And waited...
And F this!
I went to bed.
This morning on the patio there's food and water and FC's security carrier (the one he wanted to stay in and slept in until, nasty, cat lady that I am, I fixed him a soft bed in a wicker basket).
I'm spending the day with Morgan.
If FC decides to come back, the little varmint will have food, water and shelter.
If not, I've learned a 265 dollar lesson:
Along with most men, you can't change most cats.

Escape Artist...

2010-07-09T06:48:00.002-04:00

I have to preface this post by saying, in this heat I sleep in panties and one of my many t-shirts. I get up at 5 AM and sometimes I'm brave enough to slip out my front door without putting on my shorts, snag my newspaper and the quickly slip back inside before any of my neighbors see me and go blind.

I thought I would do that this morning; however, Poncho was behind me, waiting for his chance. And before I could say, "WTF!" he was out the door and across the parking lot, furry chubby butt moving faster than I thought it could. Fourteen pounds of fluffy cat can move, especially when he surprises the old woman standing in her doorway dressed only in t-shirts and panties.

Grumbling, I ran to my bedroom, slipped on my shorts, put on shoes and followed "The Damn Cat" - actually I was calling him the "F-word" cat. I did the "kitty-kitty-kitty" thing as quietly as possible (it was 5 AM after all) with no takers - not even any of the strays that hang around the apartment complex.

It was still dark, so I went back inside to get the million-watt flashlight Morgan had given me. Outside I crouched under evergreens and bushes, swiping the flashlight back and forth, trying not to look like the crazy cat lady I seem to be becoming.

Grumbling even more, I went back inside the apartment to get my car keys. Maybe the F--ing Cat (Poncho's new name as far as I was concerned) had gotten as far as another section of the apartment complex. In t-shirt (bra-less of course) and shorts I would drive around flashing the million-watt light and calling, "Kitty, kitty, f-ing kitty." If I couldn't find him, then I would go to Dunkin Donuts and get a peanut butter and jelly donut that would ruin my blood sugar but gratify my soul.

I even thought, "Well, Poncho, if you want to be outside so badly, then stay outside!" And then I remembered writing a check for 265 dollars at the vet's and almost got into the car, until I saw it...a large ball of reddish-beige fluff walking down the sidewalk towards the apartment, just as if he'd meant to come home.

I tried to get him, but once again cat eluded woman and ran to a clump of evergreens behind the apartment...the same set of trees he would look at longingly while sitting at the back bedroom window. I decided to use food as a weapon and finally caught the perpetrator with an open container of wet Meow Mix.

Unhappy cat and unhappy cat lady tramped back home.
After eating his breakfast, Poncho slunked under a bookcase. I took my shower, still grumbling.
Murray looked at me as if to say, "Don't worry about me doing that. I know where I have it good."

I certainly hope Murray relates that to F-ing Cat...er Poncho.

So what's wrong with a beaver......

2010-07-07T06:36:00.002-04:00

Another interesting story from www.naturalplane.blogspot.com

My thoughts on this:
1. Years ago there once was a lovely statue commissioned for downtown Easton, PA that had the same issues (in the viewpoint of some people) and it was decommissioned.
2. It's nice to know that some people think they're aware of what female genitalia look like. But just like our faces, women are all different and all beautiful, even "down there".
3. If one looks around there are lots of representations of male genitalia. Silos are the first to come to mind.
4. I may see the image of an elephant in a cloud and someone else may think the same cloud is a pirate ship.
5. Have these complaining people REALLY looked at Georgia O'Keeffe painting?
6. We haven't come a long way, baby, since that statue was commissioned for downtown Easton, PA.

Too Much 'Beaver'?

UPI - A scene painted on a beaver statue struck some observers as female genitalia, prompting its removal from a public art walk in Bemidji, Minn., an organizer said.

Deborah Davis of Blackduck says her piece of art, one of nine fibreglass beaver sculptures painted by area artists, was meant to portray a praying woman's hands.

But about 20 people who sized it up as they took in downtown Bemidji's Sculpture Walk called city officials to say they saw something entirely different when they looked at the beaver's belly. And so the offending statue disappeared from the public space on Thursday by order of City Manager John Chattin.

Al Belleveau, president of the Bemidji Sculpture Walk, said he transported the sculpture to his yard until the City Council rules on its future on Tuesday.

But removing the beaver stirred emotions in others who are upset the sculpture was removed. Davis said a group of people had gathered at the spot where her statue had stood carrying signs that read "Censored" and some of the other beaver artists covered up their own works in solidarity with her.

"My intent was to paint Mother Nature, Mother Earth," said Davis, a former kindergarten teacher. "I didn't understand that some people saw genitalia. ... I understand people see different things in art, and they need to be free to do that. ... My intent was to paint a praying woman."

The Disappearing Bee....

2010-07-03T07:16:00.002-04:00

It's about time we realize that as go the bees, so goes the human race...

From CNN and www.naturalplane.blogspot.com

Study Links Bee Decline to Cell Phones

cnn - A new study has suggested that cell phone radiation may be contributing to declines in bee populations in some areas of the world.

Bee populations dropped 17 percent in the UK last year, according to the British Bee Association, and nearly 30 percent in the United States says the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

Parasitic mites called varroa, agricultural pesticides and the effects of climate change have all been implicated in what has been dubbed "colony collapse disorder" (CCD).

But researchers in India believe cell phones could also be to blame for some of the losses.

In a study at Panjab University in Chandigarh, northern India, researchers fitted cell phones to a hive and powered them up for two fifteen-minute periods each day.

After three months, they found the bees stopped producing honey, egg production by the queen bee halved, and the size of the hive dramatically reduced.

It's not just the honey that will be lost if populations plummet further. Bees are estimated to pollinate 90 commercial crops worldwide. Their economic value in the UK is estimated to be $290 million per year and around $12 billion in the U.S.

Andrew Goldsworthy, a biologist from the UK's Imperial College, London, has studied the biological effects of electromagnetic fields. He thinks it's possible bees could be affected by cell phone radiation.

The reason, Goldsworthy says, could hinge on a pigment in bees called cryptochrome.

"Animals, including insects, use cryptochrome for navigation," Goldsworthy told CNN.

"They use it to sense the direction of the earth's magnetic field and their ability to do this is compromised by radiation from [cell] phones and their base stations. So basically bees do not find their way back to the hive."

Goldsworthy has written to the UK communications regulator OFCOM suggesting a change of phone frequencies would stop the bees being confused.

"It's possible to modify the signal coming from the [cell] phones and the base station in such a way that it doesn't produce the frequencies that disturb the cryptochrome molecules," Goldsworthy said.

"So they could do this without the signal losing its ability to transmit information."

But the UK's Mobile Operators Association -- which represents the UK's five mobile network operators -- told CNN: "Research scientists have already considered possible factors involved in CCD and have identified the areas for research into the causes of CCD which do not include exposure to radio waves."

Norman Carreck, Scientific director of the International Bee research Association at the UK's University of Sussex says it's still not clear how much radio waves affect bees.

"We know they are sensitive to magnetic fields. What we don't know is what use they actually make of them. And no one has yet demonstrated that honey bees use the earth's magnetic field when navigating," Carreck said.

**********

Retribution?

2010-07-02T06:37:00.002-04:00

This article was recently on www.naturalplane.blogspot.com.

Many years ago I wrote a short story about animals, deformed from environmental disasters, attacking humans. This barracuda attack occurred in the Gulf. Coincidence?

Barracuda Jumps Into Boat, Attacks 14-Year-Old Girl

Koral Wira was named after the sea and its tranquility, not the terror she experienced on Sunday morning. Fishing with her family in the Gulf of Mexico, the unsuspecting 14-year-old girl from Venice was attacked by a 45-inch barracuda while sitting inside a boat.

According to the family, the barracuda jumped from the water, flew across the boat like a bullet, clamped onto the girl's left arm and left it looking like "raw hamburger."

Wira had incision-like bite marks from her elbow to her wrist, and the wounds required 51 stitches to close. "It was like out of 'Jaws,' it was that scary," said Dina Parker, Wira's mother. "We'll never go back out there again. It was the most terrifying thing I've ever been through. I've never been so scared in my life.

Settling In...

2010-07-01T07:33:00.001-04:00

What a handsome boy!

You know you're old when....

2010-06-30T06:42:00.004-04:00

So I named "Snowfoot" Poncho. Morgan suggested the name when we were at the Vet Section of the Berks County Humane Society and I was at the counter waiting for the receptionist to tell me how much I owed.

When Morgan said "Poncho". I said (of course), "Oh, Cisco" and then "Oh, Poncho."
Morgan laughed but the girl at the counter looked at us as if we were nuts...well, we are, but that's not the point.

Then, when I was at work, I said the same thing: "Oh, Cisco...Oh, Poncho..." Nothing. Blank looks.

And that's when it hit me. That day, with Frank off, I was the oldest person in the office.

Oh, Cisco...Oh, Poncho...

Penny and Peter Peacock...

2010-06-29T07:18:00.003-04:00

...on top of Morgan's truck.

Poncho-The big-footed cat once named Snowfoot and Lalalalalola....

2010-06-29T06:56:00.006-04:00

I'm not sure about this place - maybe I stay inside here. (Look at the size of that paw)

Okay. This place not so bad. Cool and soft and the other kitties haven't hissed at me - yet.

Oh, alright...maybe I'll stay. Miss Lady not too bad, even though she took me to the Vet's. She talks to me, scritches my head and tells me I'm sweet. I think she may be a little disappointed that I'm not a lady like her - but I am such a handsome boy.

13 to Life

2010-06-24T19:21:00.003-04:00

Shannon Delany's first book in her new trilogy is now out. 13 to Life has a wonderful heroine who has some dark secrets, but not as dark as the secret being kept by the new love in her life.

From Shannon's Amazon Page:
Previously a teacher and now a farmer raising heritage livestock in upstate New York, Shannon Delany has always been fascinated by history, myths, legends and paranormal research. Learn more about her at www.ShannonDelany.com. Explore the world of Junction at www.13toLifeSeries.com.

Cadbury Castle

2010-06-18T05:41:00.007-04:00

"Castle" means a plateau, a place for a hillfort. This plateau near Cadbury has been long thought to be the site of Camelot. Archeological excavations in the late 1960s showed that there were ruins of a large fourth-fifth century fortification with ramparts, a chapel, a large hall and other buildings. It was large enough and fortified enough to have been the fort of an important British chieftain. Arthur?

A view from Cadbury Castle.

A man-made rampart of the hillfort.

Trees on the lane up the fort give the impression of a magical land.

The lane to the top of the castle.

The Tor

2010-06-18T05:32:00.007-04:00

Views from the Tor

The Tor from Chalice Hill

Does Arthur lie asleep in a cavern inside the Tor, waiting for a time he is needed again? What better time than now?

Views from the Tor

2010-06-15T07:03:00.004-04:00

Rising 500 feet above the Somerset plain, the Tor is the major topographical site of the area. The tower on its peak is all that remains of the second church built on hill. Both were destroyed by earthquakes. Arthurian legend has the mortally injured king taken to the Isle of Avalon on a boat, to be healed and put to sleep for millennium until he is need again (one story) or to be cared for until his death and buried. Many people the Tor is hallow with many chambers. Could Arthur sleep under this gentle slope? Will he return when needed and is the time now?

One of my heroes

2010-06-15T06:49:00.005-04:00

Geoffrey Ashe is probably the foremost authority on King Arthur and Glastonbury. He took us on a tour of the Abbey.

Here, Geoffrey shows us where monks in the 12th Century found an ancient burial site. The burial, in a hallowed out oak tree, was of two people, one very tall and one smaller. An iron cross with the words: "Here lies King Arthur on the Isle of Avalon" crudely engraved on it. The cross has been lost but there are drawings of it.

I saw Geoffrey and his lovely wife again at the Abbey Tea Shop across from the Abbey. I watched them walk across the street to the car park next to the Abbey grounds and the words "Sir Geoffrey" flashed through my mind. This man deserves a knighthood.

The Chalice Well Gardens

2010-06-15T06:37:00.004-04:00

Many of the Arthurian Legends tell of the Chalice being hidden on this hill, in this well.

More Glastonbury Scenes

2010-06-15T06:24:00.003-04:00

Wasn't I just (like six years ago) in this very town, traveling through Cornwall, seeing the very same sites? Well, yes.But I wanted to return. I had a wonderful guide, Jamie George of Gothic Image Tours who knew the spiritual and the historical meanings of the sites.

Wearyall Hill where legends states Joseph of Arimathea planted a staff that became a thorn tree. This tree is one of its descendants.

England June 2010

2010-06-14T04:16:00.003-04:00

Scenes from Glastonbury

Matricide

2010-05-26T07:55:00.002-04:00

My Little Yard

2010-05-02T18:48:00.003-04:00

Olivia and her mother, Karen, gave me the bird gazing ball last year. I'll be planting bitter melon under after Morgan gets the seeds started.
The bird bath was a Christmas present from my sister - her friend makes them.
And the Imagine chimes are, of course, my tribute to John.

Playing in the Dirt

2010-05-02T18:30:00.003-04:00

I have a lilac bush! Morgan brought me the bush and helped me put it in...well, he did most of the work but I planted the salvia (also from Morgan) and the little geranium after he dug the holes with his "clam-digger". I dug my hands in the dirt and remembered how much fun it was to do that.

It's MAY!!!!

2010-05-01T08:48:00.003-04:00

Next to October (my birth month), this is my very most favorite month.

Yesterday after work, I weeded the edges of my little yard and raked up in preparation of this morning. In the evening I did a small Beltane ritual and sat outside in the mild night air sipping mead, a gift from Morgan.

This morning I have the patio door open with only a screen between me and nature. The screen to keep the cats in...but after their initial curiosity and subsequent chittering at the birds, they've reverted to form: sprawling on soft sofa blankets and ignoring the call of the wild. They know when they have it good.

Later this morning I'm going to buy flowers to set in pots and to plant. I'll set out the beautiful bird bath my sister gave me for Christmas. I'll hang bird houses. I'm determined, with Morgan's help, to get my lilac bush planted this year.

I will enjoy my little plot of land but I will dream about another.

Years ago I walked up the Tor on May Day. I love Glastonbury and will be returning in a month - between Beltane and Summer Solstice, a perfect time for the town, a perfect time for England.

Tra-la, it's May...the lusty month of May. That lovely time when everyone throws self-control away...

Memorials on PA Rt. 61 or Are They?

2010-04-26T05:24:00.002-04:00

Morgan found this marker along PA Rt. 61 and noticed that someone had turned it into a type of memorial. Was some unknown soldier buried here?

And then he noticed this marker, without the flags. So we decided to add flags and a small wreath - just in case. It was difficult since it was on top of a slope right along the road and there was a very dead and decaying raccoon right below it. But us two seniors were able to hobble up the slope and place our small memorials to whomever or whatever...or could it be a wherever...

The Ubiquitous and Necessary Cat Pictures

2010-04-25T13:10:00.001-04:00

Heather's Ernie and Figaro

Heather's Chicken

2010-04-25T13:05:00.002-04:00

Heather wanted a milk glass nesting chicken like the one she remembered from her childhood. Morgan found one at a flea market and drove it up to me the day before I flew to Seattle. Heather, of course, was thrilled.

Into the Woods

2010-04-25T12:55:00.004-04:00

Pictures of one of Morgan's cabins and some of his woods. I guess I'm still under some of my parents' influence. I loved the area and loved being there with Morgan.

An Open Letter to My Writing Groups

2010-04-23T08:03:00.004-04:00

My dear friends:

I know we need board members, in both organizations. And you know I have just enough residual guilt to maybe, just maybe volunteer for one of those positions. But I'm fighting against that guilt for the following reasons:

1. Since 1995 I've served in every board position (except treasurer - a wise decision) in two writers groups. I've also worked on conferences, workshops, publicity, contests and other various areas.
2. I have a very intense job that causes me to travel across the state and the schedule for that travel is not always my own.
3. Selfish reasons: I am getting older and I want to concentrate the time I have outside my job on my family and friends, my gentleman and my writing.

I will support both groups in many other ways, but a board position is not in my future. Besides, it's time for young - and I mean that in all definitions - blood. I'm definitely old blood.

And I'm writing this from a hotel in Pittsburgh area...with a 5-6 hour drive ahead of me. Old blood and very, very tired...

Hump Day

2010-04-14T07:13:00.003-04:00

I am so looking forward to the weekend. I'll be staying in a rented house by a lake in the Poconos with other writers - very little cell phone connection - no Internet. I will write, write, write and read.

I may even nap. I will probably nap - I use sleep as a way to rejuvenate my ideas.

This is just what I need - an escape from long term care, from being a nurse, from being someone who has all the answers (or who should have all the answers). I just want to be around people who understand "the fire in the belly", the "need" to write - one of the reasons for this blog. Sometimes I just have to see my thoughts, ideas, dreams, rants as written words.

I just need to figure out how to change a "bad" boy into a loving one...
Maybe I'll nap on it.

Rethinking...Life

2010-04-07T06:56:00.002-04:00

Only four days with Heather and not enough time for me but more than enough for her, I'm sure. We both need to be back in our routines - we both love our own lives and our own routines but we love each other, so the best thing would be to live closer - not 3000 miles away. But I accept her decision; it has helped her grow and given me a lovely place to visit.

Will I retire to the Pacific Northwest? Probably not. Would Heather take me? Yep - like yesterday -if there was a "public option" - but that's a blog for another day. Morgan has come into my life with "both barrels" - appropriate metaphor for Morgan - and I am content, happy and well-loved - maybe for the first time in my life. That leaves Heather with the ability to live her own life without the worry of her aging mother - for now.

And I must...must...change how I view my job. It is only a means to a paycheck and only for about another 30 months. I am a writer. I've been a writer for the last 50 years and I will be a writer until I die. In fact, I've already written my own obituary - all writers should write their last article and not leave it to another.

I am a nurse only for 8 hours a day and just because I'm good at it (as I would be good at bagging groceries if that was my job), does not mean it is my LIFE, especially since I NEVER wanted to be a nurse from the beginning. Therefore I'm working on this lesson: what happens at work, stays at work and it's just not that important.

Heather is important.
Morgan is important.
Pattie and her family are important.
Rich is important.
Olivia and Josh are important.
My friends are important.
My writing is important.
I am important.

I am better than the job I go to daily. Therefore, I will learn not to allow it to define me.

More about the Peacocks

2010-03-30T06:00:00.002-04:00

While Morgan is on the sun porch writing, Peter and Penny peck on the sun porch glass door to let Morgan know that they're around...or maybe they're knocking to come in.

Morgan is absolutely positive about NOT having indoor peacocks so Peter and Penny will have to be outside livestock.

Morgan, although he's buying large bags of cat food for outdoor cats and peacocks, is thrilled to have the new arrivals.

A Special Day...

2010-03-26T05:46:00.003-04:00

... and not just because it's Friday - although that's sometimes enough to celebrate.

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=765

My first book, a novella from an e-publishing house, comes out today. I should be celebrating, but I'm exhausted. I've been at a work conference since Wednesday, trying to absorb new information and recharge those batteries while also fielding work-issues. There's never really a "down" time these days. So many changes and I'm trying to keep up with them all when all I want to do is...

Spend my days with Morgan and write my little stories. He has made a writing space for me next to his on his sun porch. Now all I need is an orange writing hat - like his - and I'll be ready!

The Old Cowboy and the Naughty Lady.
A bonded pair.

Morgan and the Peacocks - Part 4: Peacock Stew?

2010-03-25T05:30:00.003-04:00

I'm sure there was a brief moment that Morgan must have thought about it when he saw Peter sitting on the hood of his van, leaving peacock scratches. He's now trying to think of things to put over the van to allow the birds to roost on it without leaving their signature. So no peacock stew. But would they taste like pheasant...or turkey?

Morgan said they looked like turkeys flying off in a huff, squawking loudly and ending up on the top roof of his two story farmhouse. He thought something had spooked them and immediately went out with a gun to see what it was. You see, the peacocks are "under the protection of the guns of the fort" - i.e: Morgan's fort...his property. And van hood scratches notwithstanding, nothing will harm those peacocks as long as they're under his protection.

You know, I feel the same way when I'm with him - cared for and protected...
Nice, very nice.

Morgan and the Peacocks - Part 3

2010-03-24T06:57:00.002-04:00

Our nightly phone calls now begin with news from Peacock Central.

For years Morgan has been caring for cats who were dumped on his property. Allergies have prevented him from taking them in, but he's cared for them as outside cats, even getting them spayed. He has a feeder at the door to his sun porch and keeps it full for them. This weekend he bought a second feeder for the small porch area- for the peacocks. Yesterday he found the cats eating at their feeder and the peacocks eating at their feeder - a real peaceable kingdom.

In the morning he'd heard two thumps outside his bedroom. First one and then the other had landed on the sun proch roof and were busy looking into the second floor windows. Morgan now imitates their honking for me - lovely. Nosy and noisy birds.

Morgan and the Peacocks - Part 2

2010-03-23T06:01:00.002-04:00

After the movie and dinner Sunday evening we went to Morgan's to check on the peacocks. He'd bought a large automatic cat feeder and wanted to look for the right spot to set it - the right spot for the peacocks. Unfortunately we couldn't see them. I went home without seeing Peter and Penny.

However, Monday morning, both were at Morgan's door honking to be fed. They'd found where Morgan feeds his three cats (all dumped on his property and all fixed by their adopted human)and were quite vocal that they'd finished all the cat food and wanted more.

Saturday I'd met one of Morgan's friends, Jimmy Crater, who has a recycling company and a peacock, Mr. Peabody. Mr. Peabody had wandered onto Jimmy's property one day and stayed. Jimmy tried to convince Morgan that there was a reason for Peter and Penny to arrive. Jimmy, an "aging hippie" with mystical ideas, felt it was because the peacock is the sign of the alchemist - Morgan.

But I think about it being a bonded pair - two peacocks arrived at Morgan's one day. The Alchemist and the Witch - a bonded pair. A sign.

Makes sense - more than anything in a long time.

Morgan and the Peacocks

2010-03-21T08:58:00.002-04:00

The pair of peacocks - male and female - arrived at Morgan's about a week ago. They seem to be a bonded pair and very young. This morning Morgan called to tell me he heard a honking noise at his bedroom (second floor) window. He opened the blinds and looked out to find the male peacock (named Peter) peering at him. It was time for breakfast. It seems that the peacocks are training their human to feed them.

Ted Andrews' wonderful book, Animal-Speak, mentions peacocks: "The eyes within the feathering have often been associated with greater vision and wisdom...Of all birds, the peacock resembles the traditional descriptions of the phoenix...even in Christianity it was the symbol of death an resurrection...it has also been associated with immortality."