Hello September!
For me, this time of the year is akin to New Year's Eve. For most of my life it signaled the end of a school year and the beginning of a new year. It always involved resolutions: I'm going to get more sleep, keep up with my paperwork, decorate my classroom more frequently, learn the names of all my students the first week, be much less grumpy. And like all new year's resolutions, it never took long for me to break all of these.
It is going on nine years since I retired. I find that hard to believe. Though I haven't been in a classroom in years, I am still interested in all things educational. It upsets me that teachers are no longer able to explore their creativity, but instead must channel it into completing a standard curriculum aimed at standardized tests. It continues to distress me that teachers are not given the tools to be successful at their jobs: small classes, helpful assistants, up-to-date materials, clean and comfortable classrooms, strong administrative support, sufficient planning time. Yet, despite all these roadblocks, teachers continue to love their jobs and successfully reach their students. Teachers continue to go above and beyond, and often do it for "free." Not that the Board of Education at my former school district appreciates them. Their contracted steps have been denied for years. Raises, if they are offered, are minuscule. Health care programs narrow their benefits and cost more. It's wrong. Yet, the public doesn't complain because to do so might raise their taxes. Ok, public, I get it. But now is the time you need to get involved in a protest that involves education. A protest only you, the public, can effectively launch. I'm talking about an uprising against the fees students must pay to participate in extra-curricular activities.
According to the BOE philosophy, extra-curriculars are costing the district too much money. They can't give teachers a step increase or raise because these activities are so expensive. Their answer? Charge students $100 per activity. This has been going on for a few years in the sports department. This year, the charges are being aimed at drama students. A parent that has a few active children in high school could pay as much as $600 for their kids to participate in the activities that colleges examine when determining who to admit. No money, no activities, a bare college application. The recent addition of the drama charge will supposedly bring in $65,000 to the district. Hmmph. I've examined both the district's budget and list of assistants to the assistants, and I could cut that amount and more if they'd let me. Supplementing a budget at the expense of a child's well-rounded education is disgusting.
Oh, and did I mention that the fees are dumped into a general slush fund? There's no accounting for how the money is spent. There is no distributing the money to the schools for their programs. The general fund. You know, the one that supplies donuts for supervisor meetings. I have repeatedly contacted the local newspaper to do an investigation on these fees, but the reporters have ignored my requests. Maybe one of you taxpayer parents might have more success.
I wish all educators the best of luck this year. Not only do I wish them the resources they need for their classrooms, I wish them a lot of luck with the activities for which they sacrifice family time and free time to provide for students. I really hope they can fill their teams, cast their plays, and provide a marching band, all the while collecting money for the BOE's donuts.
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Orlando, because you knew I'd eventually have to speak up
The recent mass murder in Orlando has shaken me to the core. The act itself was horrible. Just horrible. But, the reaction of so many Americans has left me with a sense of desperation about what our country has become.
For a land that once prided itself on being founded for religious freedom, for being a melting pot of races and cultures, I see a growing, vocal trend that insists only white Christian heterosexual people are welcome. I see Facebook posts from the Woodstock generation and I shake my head and wonder, what the hell happened to them?
Though the reasons this shooter actually entered the nightclub and murdered fifty people are complex, there are certain realities that too many in our country are trying to deny. First of all, this man was not an illegal/legal alien from an Islamic country. He was born and raised in America. His father is devastated by what his son did. Those racist cries to keep Muslims from entering America, are just that - racism. What is going on in America when targeting a race of people is not considered abhorrent? Why is it okay with 'Muricans to hate people of color? to proudly flaunt that hate under the guise of patriotism? to make innocent people afraid to leave their homes? Do none of these people know about the Japanese internment camps that our country forced Americans to live in? Do none of these people know our country's history of denying Jews escaping Hitler access to our country- how it happened and the why of it all? I think not. Unacceptable ignorance.
Secondly, so-called patriots are determined to make this an ISIS attack on all of America. No matter what the murderer said, it is being reported that outside terrorist organizations were not involved in this mass murder. Personally, I think his cry of allegiance to ISIS was a way to make himself feel more noble, to make himself feel like a martyr instead of a pathetic homophobe. The person who did this purposely targeted a specific group of people, the LGBT community. In my opinion, there is no denying that the vitriol constantly touted in the social networking pages and even in a lot of churches, fed this mentally ill man's hatred. He saw two men kissing and he was outraged. A friend of mine recently wrote that when she and her lesbian fiancé enter a room, they have to read the crowd. They have to protect themselves, they have to be on guard, they have to answer to the nagging fear that someone will do them harm for being who they are and for loving each other. This is shameful. This is wrong. And listen up, "patriots," this is un-American.
Why has the Congress of this country allowed the NRA to buy them? Too many people have no common sense when it comes to gun control. Don't bother to smugly argue this point with me because I have heard the bullshit and I do not buy it. This guy was able to legally purchase a weapon of mass destruction. Legally. I cannot fathom any mentality that tries to justify such gun ownership. Civilized countries that have taken gun ownership seriously and have enacted the laws needed, do not have the constant domestic gun murders that our country is growing used to. When I traveled in China and Venezuela I was asked more than once how many guns I owned and what kind I had. I was appalled to realize that the general perception of Americans was not just that we're fat, loud, and entitled, but that we're all gun slingers.
I have not attempted to enter into debate on Facebook, and frankly, I'm not interested in any "debate" concerning this blog. On Facebook, I have consciously not pointed out that many of you who are "standing with" Orlando or who have altered your pictures with the rainbow and the "I am Orlando" banner have repeatedly posted memes where, at best, you make fun of the LGBT community, and at the worst, express disgust with that which you don't understand. When so-called "truths" are used to incite fear, promote hatred, and embrace racism, I am reminded of something Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and consciencious stupidity."
America does not need to fear intruders destroying our country. We are imploding.
For a land that once prided itself on being founded for religious freedom, for being a melting pot of races and cultures, I see a growing, vocal trend that insists only white Christian heterosexual people are welcome. I see Facebook posts from the Woodstock generation and I shake my head and wonder, what the hell happened to them?
Though the reasons this shooter actually entered the nightclub and murdered fifty people are complex, there are certain realities that too many in our country are trying to deny. First of all, this man was not an illegal/legal alien from an Islamic country. He was born and raised in America. His father is devastated by what his son did. Those racist cries to keep Muslims from entering America, are just that - racism. What is going on in America when targeting a race of people is not considered abhorrent? Why is it okay with 'Muricans to hate people of color? to proudly flaunt that hate under the guise of patriotism? to make innocent people afraid to leave their homes? Do none of these people know about the Japanese internment camps that our country forced Americans to live in? Do none of these people know our country's history of denying Jews escaping Hitler access to our country- how it happened and the why of it all? I think not. Unacceptable ignorance.
Secondly, so-called patriots are determined to make this an ISIS attack on all of America. No matter what the murderer said, it is being reported that outside terrorist organizations were not involved in this mass murder. Personally, I think his cry of allegiance to ISIS was a way to make himself feel more noble, to make himself feel like a martyr instead of a pathetic homophobe. The person who did this purposely targeted a specific group of people, the LGBT community. In my opinion, there is no denying that the vitriol constantly touted in the social networking pages and even in a lot of churches, fed this mentally ill man's hatred. He saw two men kissing and he was outraged. A friend of mine recently wrote that when she and her lesbian fiancé enter a room, they have to read the crowd. They have to protect themselves, they have to be on guard, they have to answer to the nagging fear that someone will do them harm for being who they are and for loving each other. This is shameful. This is wrong. And listen up, "patriots," this is un-American.
Why has the Congress of this country allowed the NRA to buy them? Too many people have no common sense when it comes to gun control. Don't bother to smugly argue this point with me because I have heard the bullshit and I do not buy it. This guy was able to legally purchase a weapon of mass destruction. Legally. I cannot fathom any mentality that tries to justify such gun ownership. Civilized countries that have taken gun ownership seriously and have enacted the laws needed, do not have the constant domestic gun murders that our country is growing used to. When I traveled in China and Venezuela I was asked more than once how many guns I owned and what kind I had. I was appalled to realize that the general perception of Americans was not just that we're fat, loud, and entitled, but that we're all gun slingers.
I have not attempted to enter into debate on Facebook, and frankly, I'm not interested in any "debate" concerning this blog. On Facebook, I have consciously not pointed out that many of you who are "standing with" Orlando or who have altered your pictures with the rainbow and the "I am Orlando" banner have repeatedly posted memes where, at best, you make fun of the LGBT community, and at the worst, express disgust with that which you don't understand. When so-called "truths" are used to incite fear, promote hatred, and embrace racism, I am reminded of something Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and consciencious stupidity."
America does not need to fear intruders destroying our country. We are imploding.
Monday, February 15, 2016
Internet Panhandling
So, big shot "singer" Kanye West claims to be 53 million dollars in debt and he wants Mark Zuckerberg to bail him out. Seriously. Seriously? That's his response to his own irresponsibility, getting others to save his sorry butt? What's this world coming to?
The first time I heard about internet panhandling was when I read Karyn Bosnak's book, Save Karyn : One Shopoholic's Journey to Debt and Back. Her website SaveKaryn.com was started in 2002 and was the predecessor to today's Gofundme.com. She was a working girl in New York City, totally enthralled with shopping and owning name brands. When she found herself in debt, she did what hadn't been done before. She listed a website and asked kindhearted people to each send $1. This novelty appealed to many, and soon she was out of debt and rolling in the dough thanks to, as Blanche DuBois said, "...the kindness of strangers." It didn't take long for others to realize what a goldmine this internet panhandling could be, thus the proliferation of sites such as the aforementioned GoFundMe.
Recently, in a quiet, neighboring town, two officers of the law were tragically murdered in the line of duty. A few hours later on the same day, a GoFundMe account appeared asking for money for the families. I was taken aback, seriously. Seriously? Why was an account established? Don't these men have insurance? Don't the police have special funds to take care of their own? And just who was behind this account? Surely, not those who were grieving. Later, another account was established, this one being the official fundraising account. Huh? Is this how America now responds to tragedy? Whatever happened to obituaries asking in lieu of flowers contributions be made towards funeral expenses or college accounts for survivors' children or a charity the deceased supported? Whatever happened to making these suggestions to friends instead of the general public?
Don't get me wrong. I have contributed to the GoFundMe accounts for many people I personally know. I make no judgement about them asking for help, that's what friends are for. But has it gotten out of hand? When my brother was diagnosed with cancer, quite a few people asked for his account information so they could donate. Bless their hearts for wanting to help, but we had never even considered doing an internet fundraiser. His medical expenses were our family's responsibility, not the world's.
If you Google, there are a lot of these sites available allowing you to beg for money. It is unbelievable what people ask/beg for. Lots of people expect the general public to graciously fund their weddings, honeymoons, Caribbean vacations, boob implants, boob reductions, facelifts, mission trips, braces, gambling losses, bad decisions and so on. And lots of people get really angry when their financial demands aren't met. Almost as entertaining as the down-on-their-luck stories people tell, are the angry rants they post when the money isn't coming in. Cyberbeg.com is full of sad, sad stories. I happen to believe the majority of those are scams, but what do I know? Anyhow, there is no denying what started as one silly young woman strapped by debt has bloomed into big business.
But Kanye? Are you really so narcissistic that you feel entitled to Mark Zuckerberg's money? (That's a rhetorical question, by the way.) America, do you really expect others to pay your bills? It's scary to me, but too many are probably thinking, why not? Why not me?
Maybe I should give this internet panhandling a try. If you like this blog, feel free to send donations my way. I'm retired and on a fixed income. And, I'd really, really like to take a cruise around the world. A nice long cruise, in a suite, with a balcony. I promise to blog my adventures in paradise as a special thank you to my supporters. Seriously.
The first time I heard about internet panhandling was when I read Karyn Bosnak's book, Save Karyn : One Shopoholic's Journey to Debt and Back. Her website SaveKaryn.com was started in 2002 and was the predecessor to today's Gofundme.com. She was a working girl in New York City, totally enthralled with shopping and owning name brands. When she found herself in debt, she did what hadn't been done before. She listed a website and asked kindhearted people to each send $1. This novelty appealed to many, and soon she was out of debt and rolling in the dough thanks to, as Blanche DuBois said, "...the kindness of strangers." It didn't take long for others to realize what a goldmine this internet panhandling could be, thus the proliferation of sites such as the aforementioned GoFundMe.
Recently, in a quiet, neighboring town, two officers of the law were tragically murdered in the line of duty. A few hours later on the same day, a GoFundMe account appeared asking for money for the families. I was taken aback, seriously. Seriously? Why was an account established? Don't these men have insurance? Don't the police have special funds to take care of their own? And just who was behind this account? Surely, not those who were grieving. Later, another account was established, this one being the official fundraising account. Huh? Is this how America now responds to tragedy? Whatever happened to obituaries asking in lieu of flowers contributions be made towards funeral expenses or college accounts for survivors' children or a charity the deceased supported? Whatever happened to making these suggestions to friends instead of the general public?
Don't get me wrong. I have contributed to the GoFundMe accounts for many people I personally know. I make no judgement about them asking for help, that's what friends are for. But has it gotten out of hand? When my brother was diagnosed with cancer, quite a few people asked for his account information so they could donate. Bless their hearts for wanting to help, but we had never even considered doing an internet fundraiser. His medical expenses were our family's responsibility, not the world's.
If you Google, there are a lot of these sites available allowing you to beg for money. It is unbelievable what people ask/beg for. Lots of people expect the general public to graciously fund their weddings, honeymoons, Caribbean vacations, boob implants, boob reductions, facelifts, mission trips, braces, gambling losses, bad decisions and so on. And lots of people get really angry when their financial demands aren't met. Almost as entertaining as the down-on-their-luck stories people tell, are the angry rants they post when the money isn't coming in. Cyberbeg.com is full of sad, sad stories. I happen to believe the majority of those are scams, but what do I know? Anyhow, there is no denying what started as one silly young woman strapped by debt has bloomed into big business.
But Kanye? Are you really so narcissistic that you feel entitled to Mark Zuckerberg's money? (That's a rhetorical question, by the way.) America, do you really expect others to pay your bills? It's scary to me, but too many are probably thinking, why not? Why not me?
Maybe I should give this internet panhandling a try. If you like this blog, feel free to send donations my way. I'm retired and on a fixed income. And, I'd really, really like to take a cruise around the world. A nice long cruise, in a suite, with a balcony. I promise to blog my adventures in paradise as a special thank you to my supporters. Seriously.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Happy?
I cyberstalked someone on Facebook today. We are not "friends," but she reveals a lot of personal information on her page, and her life fascinates me. We are about the same age. We are physically shaped the same. But unlike me, she wears fun clothes, clingy clothes and flaunts her ample figure and big bosom. She smiles broadly. And she smiles a lot. She loves her job, her relatively new husband, her friends, her hair, her busy and fulfilling life. She is not particularly attractive, but her aura enchants those in her life and they see her as beautiful. She is one of the most vivacious people I sort of know.
She is happy. Very, very happy.
And I am so jealous of her. Because I can't imagine that I will ever be happy again.
I've been told that life is a choice and we choose whether-or-not to be happy. I certainly don't remember choosing miserable. I used to be a lot like her. I used to be happy. It's gone. That part of my life is gone, and I don't see it coming back.
Understandably, this has been a terrible year for me as I watched my brother die. I helped my sister with the caregiving, and I probably did a lousy job. I was squeamish with a lot of things that involved bodily fluids. I'm not very strong, so I was always afraid of hurting him. He took out a lot of anger on me, and I held it and was deeply hurt by it. So, I probably wasn't always very nice to him. We once had to go to the "principal's office" (the social worker) after a fight we had on the way to radiation that carried on into the facility. I think that was the day I just stopped smiling. Real smiling, I mean. I can paste one on my face, but I can't feel it.
For months, I didn't do anything Facebook worthy. My sister and the girls traveled to China. I stayed with Glenn. I do not regret it; I'm glad I could do it for my family. But my sense of adventure is gone now. If you offered me that trip today, I'd say no. My outings were short because I didn't want to leave him alone; so instead of a beach trip, I didn't plan anything more than a trip to the grocery store or an outing to the Superstore for something he needed. Somehow, those months have scarred me because I can't get back into the groove of going out and doing things. I no longer have that desire for adventure, or the energy to have "fun." I feel serious anxiety about going anywhere. I want to stay in my house and play games on the computer or watch endless reruns of Grey's Anatomy. Are there degrees of agoraphobia? Am I on the agoraphobic spectrum?
This person I cyberstalked has a lot of friends, different kinds of friends. She's always doing things and going places with groups of friends. Or with other couples, because people who are married do "couple" things and they like even numbers when they do them. People ask her to join them, they want to do things with her. They want to take pictures with her. I'm so jealous of the fun she has, of the joy she feels every day upon waking up.
I learned that caregiving can be a very lonely thing. The whole time I was in Pennsylvania, I did not see one person that wasn't medically related or a personal friend of my brother's. I have to say, I miss his friends. They visited faithfully and brought joy and hope to the long days. I completely fell off the social register. I rarely saw anyone from my old life. Months and months of that can do a number on a person. I am now used to the solitude. It's my new norm. I may hate it, but I have no energy to change it.
I envy Facebook Woman her happiness. I don't believe I will ever be truly happy again. I am so full of grief and anger that I don't believe I have enough years left in my life to work it out and get past it. I'm angry at the people who let me down. I am angry that I lost a dear friend to cancer a few weeks before I lost my brother. I am angry that I was so helpless to do any real good when my brother suffered. I am angry that I can't sleep because I am haunted by the last week of his life playing over and over again in my head. I am angry because I feel so alone all the time. I feel sad that my prayers seem to be falling on deaf ears.
Is that all there is? That Peggy Lee song used to haunt me. I reread the lyrics recently, and even Peggy brings out the booze and goes dancing with her friends. That's the most depressing song I know, and even that song is happier than I feel anymore.
Is this just a stage of grief, or is this the rest of my life? Will I ever be happy again? Will I ever again go to bed grateful for what I have and wake up thankful for what's to be?
I recently read an article by Elizabeth Kupferman that touched me deeply because she understood exactly how I was feeling. I got the feeling that what I'm experiencing is more normal than abnormal. Part of her advice was to share these feelings. So, I wrote my blog. And now you know. Here's a link to her amazing article.
http://www.expressivecounseling.com/grief-loneliness-friends/
(You'll need to copy/paste this address, I can't get the link to work.)
She is happy. Very, very happy.
And I am so jealous of her. Because I can't imagine that I will ever be happy again.
I've been told that life is a choice and we choose whether-or-not to be happy. I certainly don't remember choosing miserable. I used to be a lot like her. I used to be happy. It's gone. That part of my life is gone, and I don't see it coming back.
Understandably, this has been a terrible year for me as I watched my brother die. I helped my sister with the caregiving, and I probably did a lousy job. I was squeamish with a lot of things that involved bodily fluids. I'm not very strong, so I was always afraid of hurting him. He took out a lot of anger on me, and I held it and was deeply hurt by it. So, I probably wasn't always very nice to him. We once had to go to the "principal's office" (the social worker) after a fight we had on the way to radiation that carried on into the facility. I think that was the day I just stopped smiling. Real smiling, I mean. I can paste one on my face, but I can't feel it.
For months, I didn't do anything Facebook worthy. My sister and the girls traveled to China. I stayed with Glenn. I do not regret it; I'm glad I could do it for my family. But my sense of adventure is gone now. If you offered me that trip today, I'd say no. My outings were short because I didn't want to leave him alone; so instead of a beach trip, I didn't plan anything more than a trip to the grocery store or an outing to the Superstore for something he needed. Somehow, those months have scarred me because I can't get back into the groove of going out and doing things. I no longer have that desire for adventure, or the energy to have "fun." I feel serious anxiety about going anywhere. I want to stay in my house and play games on the computer or watch endless reruns of Grey's Anatomy. Are there degrees of agoraphobia? Am I on the agoraphobic spectrum?
This person I cyberstalked has a lot of friends, different kinds of friends. She's always doing things and going places with groups of friends. Or with other couples, because people who are married do "couple" things and they like even numbers when they do them. People ask her to join them, they want to do things with her. They want to take pictures with her. I'm so jealous of the fun she has, of the joy she feels every day upon waking up.
I learned that caregiving can be a very lonely thing. The whole time I was in Pennsylvania, I did not see one person that wasn't medically related or a personal friend of my brother's. I have to say, I miss his friends. They visited faithfully and brought joy and hope to the long days. I completely fell off the social register. I rarely saw anyone from my old life. Months and months of that can do a number on a person. I am now used to the solitude. It's my new norm. I may hate it, but I have no energy to change it.
I envy Facebook Woman her happiness. I don't believe I will ever be truly happy again. I am so full of grief and anger that I don't believe I have enough years left in my life to work it out and get past it. I'm angry at the people who let me down. I am angry that I lost a dear friend to cancer a few weeks before I lost my brother. I am angry that I was so helpless to do any real good when my brother suffered. I am angry that I can't sleep because I am haunted by the last week of his life playing over and over again in my head. I am angry because I feel so alone all the time. I feel sad that my prayers seem to be falling on deaf ears.
Is that all there is? That Peggy Lee song used to haunt me. I reread the lyrics recently, and even Peggy brings out the booze and goes dancing with her friends. That's the most depressing song I know, and even that song is happier than I feel anymore.
Is this just a stage of grief, or is this the rest of my life? Will I ever be happy again? Will I ever again go to bed grateful for what I have and wake up thankful for what's to be?
I recently read an article by Elizabeth Kupferman that touched me deeply because she understood exactly how I was feeling. I got the feeling that what I'm experiencing is more normal than abnormal. Part of her advice was to share these feelings. So, I wrote my blog. And now you know. Here's a link to her amazing article.
http://www.expressivecounseling.com/grief-loneliness-friends/
(You'll need to copy/paste this address, I can't get the link to work.)
Saturday, December 26, 2015
What I'll remember about Christmas 2015
I was prepared for this Christmas to be the worst Christmas ever. After a fight full of pain and disappointment, my brother lost his battle with stomach/pancreatic cancer and died on December 4. Just the thought of him not being around to eat all the chocolate chip cookies so Helen would have to rush bake another batch was enough to make me cry. I'd catch myself checking the catalogs and thinking something would make a good gift for him; then I'd realize there would be no more gifts. My eyes would fill with tears when I'd pass the men's departments in my favorite stores and remember the bike riding clothes I'd purchased during the past few years. Television commercials where the child came home from college or the mom/dad surprised their families by returning from war would be enough for me to cry all night. Every day this month was one of anguish.
I fully expected this Christmas would be remembered as one of the worst our family ever experienced. The first Christmas without Uncle.
In truth, we will never forget the Christmas of 2015, but not for the reasons I'd been anticipating.
The weather this season was record breaking. We had a white Christmas after all, but the white was thick, thick fog. We had warm summer rains. Yes, I said summer. The windows have been open for days. We've slept at night with the ceiling fans gently buzzing. We ate Christmas dinner on the deck. I wore shorts and a red T-shirt for Christmas. Helen was in her flip-flops. All over Facebook people posted holiday pictures of families in summer clothes. This happened in Maryland and Pennsylvania on December 25. Never in my lifetime have I experienced such a warm holiday. Next year as we shiver in typical December weather we will talk about last year when we threatened to turn on the air-conditioning. Each holiday from now on, we will refer to Christmas 2015 as the warmest winter holiday ever.
Our family will forever remember this Christmas as the year of the turkey. Our friends, Carol and Vincent, provide the Christmas turkey. They get big, juicy fresh turkeys. ( A few years ago, the drippings from their turkey, the biggest one Helen had ever cooked, set our oven on fire and we had to call 911. But that's another story.) This year, Carol went to the farm, observed the birds doing their free-range thing, then she selected one to join us for the holidays. She helped the farmer chase and catch the bird. Once in hand, the farmer took it off to wring its neck and pluck its feathers. Since the farmers had heavy accents when they said something to Carol about the feet, she didn't understand. So, like all old people who don't hear well, she did the shaky smile thing and said yes.
Christmas morning 2015. Helen is removing the bird from its bag. I'm typing away on the computer, and I stop when she yells, Oh gross!!! There, popping out of the bag are two huge white turkey feet. Upon further removal, we realize the turkey head is dangling from the dead turkey neck which is still attached to the dead turkey. Ew! Ew! Ew! Poor Helen. Without a meat cleaver, amputating those turkey parts was slow going. She's yelping, I'm laughing, the dogs are circling hoping that something will drop to the floor. What a site!
Christmas 2015 will be, as I fully expected, a Christmas I will never forget. But, I did not expect to remember it as the Christmas Eve we slept with the windows open. Or the Christmas Day that Helen had to play pioneer woman in order to prepare our dinner. Or a Christmas unexpectedly filled with friends and unending laughter.
When we look back on the Christmas of 2015, we may feel tears come to our eyes as we miss Uncle Glenn. But we'll laugh, uproariously, because we'll never forget the turkey feet, the summer weather, and the friends who enjoyed the holiday with us. I know Glenn, Mom, and Dad looked down and laughed with us.
I fully expected this Christmas would be remembered as one of the worst our family ever experienced. The first Christmas without Uncle.
In truth, we will never forget the Christmas of 2015, but not for the reasons I'd been anticipating.
The weather this season was record breaking. We had a white Christmas after all, but the white was thick, thick fog. We had warm summer rains. Yes, I said summer. The windows have been open for days. We've slept at night with the ceiling fans gently buzzing. We ate Christmas dinner on the deck. I wore shorts and a red T-shirt for Christmas. Helen was in her flip-flops. All over Facebook people posted holiday pictures of families in summer clothes. This happened in Maryland and Pennsylvania on December 25. Never in my lifetime have I experienced such a warm holiday. Next year as we shiver in typical December weather we will talk about last year when we threatened to turn on the air-conditioning. Each holiday from now on, we will refer to Christmas 2015 as the warmest winter holiday ever.
Our family will forever remember this Christmas as the year of the turkey. Our friends, Carol and Vincent, provide the Christmas turkey. They get big, juicy fresh turkeys. ( A few years ago, the drippings from their turkey, the biggest one Helen had ever cooked, set our oven on fire and we had to call 911. But that's another story.) This year, Carol went to the farm, observed the birds doing their free-range thing, then she selected one to join us for the holidays. She helped the farmer chase and catch the bird. Once in hand, the farmer took it off to wring its neck and pluck its feathers. Since the farmers had heavy accents when they said something to Carol about the feet, she didn't understand. So, like all old people who don't hear well, she did the shaky smile thing and said yes.
Christmas morning 2015. Helen is removing the bird from its bag. I'm typing away on the computer, and I stop when she yells, Oh gross!!! There, popping out of the bag are two huge white turkey feet. Upon further removal, we realize the turkey head is dangling from the dead turkey neck which is still attached to the dead turkey. Ew! Ew! Ew! Poor Helen. Without a meat cleaver, amputating those turkey parts was slow going. She's yelping, I'm laughing, the dogs are circling hoping that something will drop to the floor. What a site!
Christmas 2015 will be, as I fully expected, a Christmas I will never forget. But, I did not expect to remember it as the Christmas Eve we slept with the windows open. Or the Christmas Day that Helen had to play pioneer woman in order to prepare our dinner. Or a Christmas unexpectedly filled with friends and unending laughter.
When we look back on the Christmas of 2015, we may feel tears come to our eyes as we miss Uncle Glenn. But we'll laugh, uproariously, because we'll never forget the turkey feet, the summer weather, and the friends who enjoyed the holiday with us. I know Glenn, Mom, and Dad looked down and laughed with us.
Thursday, November 26, 2015
a poem
November?
sitting outside
in my red plaid nightgown.
Hot sun warms my face
as it burns a hole through the
chill in the air.
sitting outside
in my red plaid nightgown.
Hot sun warms my face
as it burns a hole through the
chill in the air.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Holiday Hissy Fit that you probably don't want to read
It's almost Thanksgiving, and I am having a hard time being thankful. I am angry. I wake up angry and I go to bed angry. I feel ashamed of this anger because my common sense tells me I should focus on being thankful for all that I do have, not what I'm missing. Well, I can't right now. I'm a mess, and I have been one for quite a few months.
I used to get so much pleasure from Facebook and reading the updates. Lately, I am angry and disgusted with this formerly pleasant past-time. Supposedly, there is a war on Christmas demonstrated by a coffee store producing a plain red cup instead of one full of snowmen and snowflakes. People are actually proud of themselves as they fight back by boycotting the company. What kind of crazy are these people? I had to stop reading the posts from one of my favorite pages because some kid with too much time on his hands led a campaign to get the local mall to change its futuristic holiday decorations. My blood began to boil over at the comments congratulating this kid on his stand to save Christmas. Save Christmas? Who gets their Christmas at the mall? Most of FB, I think.
I am angry and annoyed at the same discussion that comes up every year at this time... the "they" who are no longer allowing people to say Merry Christmas. Nobody is stopping anybody from saying that. Why does this become an issue every November? Yet, people puff out their chests and proudly "stand up for their faith" by planning to fight with anyone who says anything other that those two words to them during these next few weeks. To quote the kids, WTF?
What is wrong with people who think their intolerance is acceptable? I was shocked to read a FB article about a stupid, stupid woman who physically attacked a young woman for speaking Swahili with her family in a public place. All of this nonsense about English being the only language that should be spoken in this country is just that, nonsense! So what if signs are multi-lingual? So what if you have to push a button to hear English on a business call? So what!!! I taught English. And let me tell you, a lot of native born Americans don't know the first thing about this language they claim to love. If you think it makes you more of an American to roll your eyes at someone speaking a foreign language in your country, I pity you for your lack of tolerance and the superiority attitude it gives you. Such disdain doesn't make you a better American; it makes you a bigot.
Even Halloween caused an uproar this year because a school in New Jersey stopped its parties and costume parade. Parents went into an uproar over the end of this "great American tradition." NEVER MIND that Halloween festivities were celebrated by various community groups for a week before trick-or-treating even happened. Never mind that parents sit back and complacently allow schools to drain their children with excessive testing and age inappropriate education. Who cares about that? It's the party that matters. When Halloween was canceled at that school, Americans were happy to blame the Muslims and immigrants to this country for this "tragedy." I'm not sure why FB warriors targeted Muslims for the end of this tradition, but they did. It seems to be open season on Muslims according to what I read on FB. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
I have read page long threads written by people who are furious that schools have winter concerts and not Christmas concerts. You want a Christian celebration, take your kids to church! How many of the people complaining about no Bible reading in school or no religious songs at the school concerts are taking their children regularly to church? Everybody has their excuses. Sunday is the only day they can sleep in. Kids have sports on Sunday. They can't get their kids to church because it's not "fun." And my favorite excuse, people don't go to church because all they do is beg for money. Well, stop expecting the schools to be your church. Nobody has taken God out of the public schools. In my opinion, that is impossible because God is everywhere.
I am angry because at this time of the year, people throw a few bucks at the charities to help the poor, and they feel they've done their part. Or, and this is my favorite, they "adopt" a family at Christmas and then later complain that when the gifts were delivered the family already had better things than they did. They post on FB that the government is giving too much to the poor. Welfare is full of fraud. Let's drug test those lazy good for nothing welfare mothers. People are living high on the hog with government handouts. The people I see weekly at the food pantry are barely surviving, let alone living the life on your dime. Yes, many have made some bad decisions. But, who hasn't? However, the young man crying in embarrassment because medical bills are about to force his family into homelessness and he has to grovel for food, hasn't made a bad decision. He's stuck in a nightmare. The little girl who came to our Coat Giveaway in socks because the dog had ruined her only pair of shoes hasn't done anything more than being born to a single mom unable to work for a living wage and pay for childcare. I am angry that a nation this wealthy would rather roast the poor than share the wealth. Since when has doing what Jesus asked us to do become Socialism?
If you're still with me, I thank you for your patience.
I am angry. I am heartbroken. I am impatient. I am furious. But if I'm going to be truly honest with myself, something else is behind all of my rage at the "stuff" that happens every season. Since I know all of this comes up every year at the same time, why can't I laugh it off and let it roll off my back? After all, the people posting this stuff are mostly people I like whom I believe are as entitled to their opinions as I am to mine. Why don't I just take a break from FB and shut the hell up??
Because I can't. I am obsessed.
Because my life has changed in a way that chains me to the house. And while stuck in the house, I have watched more TV and read more FB than ever before. And in the midst of those repeatedly irritating FB outrages, I hear another message whispered by the more optimistic members on my FB feed: Christmas is the season of miracles. No matter what is said about red cups, welfare, or wars on everything, that is the message I see repeated and that is probably what upsets me the most.
Because my world has been rocked, and my family needs a holiday miracle. Now. Anything else I get upset with is just a cover-up for a hurt and and an anger and a fear that I can barely face let alone deal with in a healthy way. Be glad if all you're worried about is a damn red cup or a decorative igloo.
I used to get so much pleasure from Facebook and reading the updates. Lately, I am angry and disgusted with this formerly pleasant past-time. Supposedly, there is a war on Christmas demonstrated by a coffee store producing a plain red cup instead of one full of snowmen and snowflakes. People are actually proud of themselves as they fight back by boycotting the company. What kind of crazy are these people? I had to stop reading the posts from one of my favorite pages because some kid with too much time on his hands led a campaign to get the local mall to change its futuristic holiday decorations. My blood began to boil over at the comments congratulating this kid on his stand to save Christmas. Save Christmas? Who gets their Christmas at the mall? Most of FB, I think.
I am angry and annoyed at the same discussion that comes up every year at this time... the "they" who are no longer allowing people to say Merry Christmas. Nobody is stopping anybody from saying that. Why does this become an issue every November? Yet, people puff out their chests and proudly "stand up for their faith" by planning to fight with anyone who says anything other that those two words to them during these next few weeks. To quote the kids, WTF?
What is wrong with people who think their intolerance is acceptable? I was shocked to read a FB article about a stupid, stupid woman who physically attacked a young woman for speaking Swahili with her family in a public place. All of this nonsense about English being the only language that should be spoken in this country is just that, nonsense! So what if signs are multi-lingual? So what if you have to push a button to hear English on a business call? So what!!! I taught English. And let me tell you, a lot of native born Americans don't know the first thing about this language they claim to love. If you think it makes you more of an American to roll your eyes at someone speaking a foreign language in your country, I pity you for your lack of tolerance and the superiority attitude it gives you. Such disdain doesn't make you a better American; it makes you a bigot.
Even Halloween caused an uproar this year because a school in New Jersey stopped its parties and costume parade. Parents went into an uproar over the end of this "great American tradition." NEVER MIND that Halloween festivities were celebrated by various community groups for a week before trick-or-treating even happened. Never mind that parents sit back and complacently allow schools to drain their children with excessive testing and age inappropriate education. Who cares about that? It's the party that matters. When Halloween was canceled at that school, Americans were happy to blame the Muslims and immigrants to this country for this "tragedy." I'm not sure why FB warriors targeted Muslims for the end of this tradition, but they did. It seems to be open season on Muslims according to what I read on FB. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
I have read page long threads written by people who are furious that schools have winter concerts and not Christmas concerts. You want a Christian celebration, take your kids to church! How many of the people complaining about no Bible reading in school or no religious songs at the school concerts are taking their children regularly to church? Everybody has their excuses. Sunday is the only day they can sleep in. Kids have sports on Sunday. They can't get their kids to church because it's not "fun." And my favorite excuse, people don't go to church because all they do is beg for money. Well, stop expecting the schools to be your church. Nobody has taken God out of the public schools. In my opinion, that is impossible because God is everywhere.
I am angry because at this time of the year, people throw a few bucks at the charities to help the poor, and they feel they've done their part. Or, and this is my favorite, they "adopt" a family at Christmas and then later complain that when the gifts were delivered the family already had better things than they did. They post on FB that the government is giving too much to the poor. Welfare is full of fraud. Let's drug test those lazy good for nothing welfare mothers. People are living high on the hog with government handouts. The people I see weekly at the food pantry are barely surviving, let alone living the life on your dime. Yes, many have made some bad decisions. But, who hasn't? However, the young man crying in embarrassment because medical bills are about to force his family into homelessness and he has to grovel for food, hasn't made a bad decision. He's stuck in a nightmare. The little girl who came to our Coat Giveaway in socks because the dog had ruined her only pair of shoes hasn't done anything more than being born to a single mom unable to work for a living wage and pay for childcare. I am angry that a nation this wealthy would rather roast the poor than share the wealth. Since when has doing what Jesus asked us to do become Socialism?
If you're still with me, I thank you for your patience.
I am angry. I am heartbroken. I am impatient. I am furious. But if I'm going to be truly honest with myself, something else is behind all of my rage at the "stuff" that happens every season. Since I know all of this comes up every year at the same time, why can't I laugh it off and let it roll off my back? After all, the people posting this stuff are mostly people I like whom I believe are as entitled to their opinions as I am to mine. Why don't I just take a break from FB and shut the hell up??
Because I can't. I am obsessed.
Because my life has changed in a way that chains me to the house. And while stuck in the house, I have watched more TV and read more FB than ever before. And in the midst of those repeatedly irritating FB outrages, I hear another message whispered by the more optimistic members on my FB feed: Christmas is the season of miracles. No matter what is said about red cups, welfare, or wars on everything, that is the message I see repeated and that is probably what upsets me the most.
Because my world has been rocked, and my family needs a holiday miracle. Now. Anything else I get upset with is just a cover-up for a hurt and and an anger and a fear that I can barely face let alone deal with in a healthy way. Be glad if all you're worried about is a damn red cup or a decorative igloo.
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