While I am disappointed that the Massachusetts election went the way it did, I think I understand why it happened.
When Obama was elected president, I believed that we had created an opportunity to move away from politics as usual. But the actions of both parties, especially the democrats, didn’t reveal any changes. In fact, the outright cynicism reflected in their actions so aptly demonstrated by the deal making around the “health care” bill, only confirmed that nothing had changed.
Who are these people in our congress today? As a group they could not do the right thing due to fear of a republican filibuster? Let them filibuster. Let them show themselves for the obstructionist, negative, no new idea people that they are. Let them hold up the process. We have been without comprehensive health care until now. We can wait a little longer if that is what is necessary to get it right. They couldn’t do what was right for fear of not being reelected? Shame on them.
I think that how I am feeling, disenchanted, disheartened, and disenfranchised, is how many people are feeling right now. There isn’t much to feel positive about and our powers that be, unfortunately including the president, appear to be completely disconnected from reality. It seems that who they are and what they are doing has nothing to do with life as the rest of us are experiencing it. I think people who feel like me walked away from the process today. I don't approve, but I understand.
While I remain an optimist and an eternal Pollyanna, I fear that we will go through some dark times before things take a turn for the better. Perhaps this is something we need to do to mature more as a nation. I still believe there are people ready to serve who are creative, honorable, smart and courageous. How they will reveal themselves remains a mystery but I am hopeful.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
What?
Heard this morning on NPR:
Citibank, which has had some struggles, is doing better now by borrowing money from the government at 0% and then loaning that money back to the government at 3% as treasuries.
Either the government is not too bright, or I am really dumb, because this makes no sense to me, but at a minimum, I’ll take some of that 0% loan action, please.
Citibank, which has had some struggles, is doing better now by borrowing money from the government at 0% and then loaning that money back to the government at 3% as treasuries.
Either the government is not too bright, or I am really dumb, because this makes no sense to me, but at a minimum, I’ll take some of that 0% loan action, please.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Using someone else's bootstraps
I was checking my credit card online last night and saw a strange charge for $170+ dollars from the Encyclopedia Britannica online. Hmmmm. I hadn’t purchased anything and apparently Albert hadn’t either.
A call to the credit card company (Bank of America) wasn’t helpful. The fraud department wasn’t there on a Sunday night.
This morning there was a second charge to Encyclopedia Britannica for ~$70, as well as an email from B of A and an automated phone call telling me there was a problem with my account and that they were freezing it. It’s gratifying to know that they are on top of things. Unfortunately for me, I’ll have to do a little financial housecleaning to straighten up this little mess.
Several months ago I had a charge on the card from someone purchasing a textbook from Barnes and Noble online which was shipped to Utah to the tune of $150. Now these charges for some kind of research materials.
I am a person who is strongly in support of formal education to improve oneself. But doing it by stealing someone else’s credit card information just seems wrong somehow. Perhaps I am being close-minded?
I am so curious to know what the textbook was (they wouldn’t tell me) or exactly what the research materials are (they won’t tell me that either). I do hope that the person making these purchases chooses a better path to higher learning. Perhaps they will have the opportunity to access the library at the jail until then?
Muffin's Not So Great Adventure
Albert very nicely went out alone to clean up the sheep pen yesterday. With this crazy weather, their enclosure is quite muddy and not very pleasant for any of us.
Hands full of the various tools he might need, Albert was over-encumbered when he attempted to open the gate. (Stud)Muffin, our ram, was there to greet him, and took the opportunity to slip past Albert and out into the wild world.
From inside the house I faintly heard, “Leeesannnne.” Through the window I saw Albert in the sheep pen with all his tools and surrounded by inquisitive sheep, and Muffin, outside the pen head-up and trotting to and fro, exploring his newly found freedom.
I hastily put on my sheep shoes, grabbed my jacket and went outside.
“Muffin, what are you doing, sweet boy?” I calmly asked as I walked between him and the gate. When the sheep are separated from one another, or when they are in new surroundings, even the most docile of them can become dangerous if only due to their size.
Even though Muffin was clearly interested in exploring, he is bonded with me, and came towards me and the gate as I spoke to him. We reached the gate at the same time, Albert opened it enough to get Muffin’s head inside, and we gently pushed him the rest of the way in. Order restored.
I share this story because for us it is another example of how we are learning to work with the sheep, and to work with each other. After almost 22 years as a couple, you would think that it would be second nature, working together, but what we are doing now is so very different from our life “before,” that we have to learn whole new ways of dealing with things. It is sometimes painful, sometimes funny, and always rewarding when we get it right.
Now if we could just get the sheep to poo in one spot.
Hands full of the various tools he might need, Albert was over-encumbered when he attempted to open the gate. (Stud)Muffin, our ram, was there to greet him, and took the opportunity to slip past Albert and out into the wild world.
From inside the house I faintly heard, “Leeesannnne.” Through the window I saw Albert in the sheep pen with all his tools and surrounded by inquisitive sheep, and Muffin, outside the pen head-up and trotting to and fro, exploring his newly found freedom.
I hastily put on my sheep shoes, grabbed my jacket and went outside.
“Muffin, what are you doing, sweet boy?” I calmly asked as I walked between him and the gate. When the sheep are separated from one another, or when they are in new surroundings, even the most docile of them can become dangerous if only due to their size.
Even though Muffin was clearly interested in exploring, he is bonded with me, and came towards me and the gate as I spoke to him. We reached the gate at the same time, Albert opened it enough to get Muffin’s head inside, and we gently pushed him the rest of the way in. Order restored.
I share this story because for us it is another example of how we are learning to work with the sheep, and to work with each other. After almost 22 years as a couple, you would think that it would be second nature, working together, but what we are doing now is so very different from our life “before,” that we have to learn whole new ways of dealing with things. It is sometimes painful, sometimes funny, and always rewarding when we get it right.
Now if we could just get the sheep to poo in one spot.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
I’m Not a Cattle
I ran across this little piece that I never posted to the blog. It goes back to 2008, when the sheep were lambs, and we only had Forrest to care for...
Today was Forrest’s first day to be alone outside in his fancy garage enclosure. We arranged a cattle panel in front of the garage doors which makes an area for him to come outside, but have the ability to retreat inside if he wants.
A little before it was time to take George the cat to the vets, I placed Forrest in his enclosure, and he readily settled down in the warm sun in the doorway. Good, I thought. This is going to work out perfectly. Assured that he was safe and sound, George and I drove away.
About an hour and a half later we returned, and I looked into the garage as I drove up. Hmm, where was Forrest? Perhaps he was hiding behind the door? Something to the right caught my eye, and there was the little darling curled up on the back doorstep. He jumped up right away and came down to the car.
Baaaa ba baaa, said he, which I interpreted to mean, hey, I’m not a cattle, I’m a sheep. If you want me to stay in there, you are going to have to treat me as the superior critter I am.
Sixteen feet of two by four wire later, his cattle panel has been converted to a lamb panel.
Sorry, Forrest. No disrespect intended.
Today was Forrest’s first day to be alone outside in his fancy garage enclosure. We arranged a cattle panel in front of the garage doors which makes an area for him to come outside, but have the ability to retreat inside if he wants.
A little before it was time to take George the cat to the vets, I placed Forrest in his enclosure, and he readily settled down in the warm sun in the doorway. Good, I thought. This is going to work out perfectly. Assured that he was safe and sound, George and I drove away.
About an hour and a half later we returned, and I looked into the garage as I drove up. Hmm, where was Forrest? Perhaps he was hiding behind the door? Something to the right caught my eye, and there was the little darling curled up on the back doorstep. He jumped up right away and came down to the car.
Baaaa ba baaa, said he, which I interpreted to mean, hey, I’m not a cattle, I’m a sheep. If you want me to stay in there, you are going to have to treat me as the superior critter I am.
Sixteen feet of two by four wire later, his cattle panel has been converted to a lamb panel.
Sorry, Forrest. No disrespect intended.
Neutrogena
Until a few years ago, I made our bath soap. When I gave that up (I don’t know why), and since I am loathe to buy soap, I came to rely on Albert to bring home hotel soaps from his travels.
While they are not homemade, most of these soaps are pretty nice, and since they are small, you can change fragrances or colors at whim.
Albert’s most recent acquisition was a few bars of Neutrogena glycerin soap, a brand I hadn’t seen for a while and certainly hadn’t purchased in at least 30 years. Before I stepped into the shower yesterday, I carefully unwrapped one of the bars. I was transported to my teens, when Neutrogena was all I wanted to use. The bar with its slight tackiness and amber translucence. The smell so precisely the same that it was, for an instant, the summer of 1974 in my red and white “Love” bathroom, the window is open, the radio is playing, and I’m 13 years old again.
They say that our sense of smell is our oldest sense, and the one for which we make the strongest and most lasting memories. When I think back to my childhood, I can remember vividly smells like, and I know this sounds like a cliché, the aroma of my great-aunt Aunty’s sugar cookies, and my great-uncle Joe’s scent of wood shavings combined with motor oil, good loamy earth and something akin to “man.” There are scent memories of cooking hotdogs over a driftwood fire at the beach, and exploring the Manzanita scrub below our house.
What is so fascinating about scent memories is the complexity of them. They not only conjure up the sense of the smell, but also the emotion attached to that smell, the temperature of the air on your skin, the quality of the light, the ambient sounds. They are not the “oh, remember when…” kind of memory, but more of a wham-up-the-side-of-the-head experience. I can taste Aunty’s cookies, feel the warmth of Uncle Joe’s chest, hear the roar of the ocean waves, and see the dust motes floating in the shady canopy. And they can trigger either by catching that scent anew or by bringing something to mind.
I don’t experience any other sensate memories in that way.
My species could beat up your species
I heard a report on NPR this morning that spoke to the creativity and intelligence of our near-relatives, the Neanderthal. Apparently, they were using pigments on their skin for no other discernible reason than for decoration for beauty or perhaps to show status.
In discussing this, one anthropologist made the claim that Neanderthal undoubtedly learned how to do this by seeing Homo sapiens do it, or by finding caches of these pigments left behind by them.
The sites where these pigments are found predate modern humans in Europe by nearly 10,000 years. Interesting. That would seem to indicate that the Neanderthal developed this technology on their own.
While I find the archaeology fascinating, I am amazed that we still have this need to one-up other species, including extinct humanoids. “Cavemen” couldn’t possibly have come up with make-up without our help. We are superior to other animals because we “fill-in-the-blank” and they don’t. It is particularly bizarre to hear this kind of sentiment from scientists who should know better than most how much we don’t know.
Pop psychology, I am sure, but doesn't it seem like we suffer from some kind of species' inferiority complex?
In discussing this, one anthropologist made the claim that Neanderthal undoubtedly learned how to do this by seeing Homo sapiens do it, or by finding caches of these pigments left behind by them.
The sites where these pigments are found predate modern humans in Europe by nearly 10,000 years. Interesting. That would seem to indicate that the Neanderthal developed this technology on their own.
While I find the archaeology fascinating, I am amazed that we still have this need to one-up other species, including extinct humanoids. “Cavemen” couldn’t possibly have come up with make-up without our help. We are superior to other animals because we “fill-in-the-blank” and they don’t. It is particularly bizarre to hear this kind of sentiment from scientists who should know better than most how much we don’t know.
Pop psychology, I am sure, but doesn't it seem like we suffer from some kind of species' inferiority complex?
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