My cat doesn't know he's fat.....or How I learned knit

Okay okay, he really is fat. It would be funny until you know that his niece is also fat but our dog is lean. The difference is that the cats "free feed" and the dog gets morning and evening feedings with maybe treats in between...I say maybe!  Many moon ago I worked at a nearby Vet clinic. I loved working there despite the owner's neurotic whims and nasty temper. I got to be around dogs and cats all day every day. We even had a clinic cat named Rocky who would never ever allow anyone to pick him up except me. It drew some raised eyebrows! He would sit in my lap and purr happily while I made my conformation calls for the next days' appointments. When he was done with the whole happy cat routine, he would sneeze all over me and leap onto the counter top to stalk the clients that came and went throughout the day. Rocky was unpredictable and that is what intrigued me about him. He would have loved to get treats now and again except that he suffered from UTI's ( urinary tract infections) which proved to be his undoing. The calcium and ash contain in most foods are so high that they make little tiny pebbles....if you've ever passed a kidney stone you know. We learned Rocky was in a bad way when we noticed blood in his litter box and he new tendency to bite those unlucky enough to touch him. We made him whole again through surgery but months later it was back and worse. Everyone of the employees gathered around the surgery table and said their goodbyes and the doctor euthanized this tired, old, pain ridden cat.

The interactions with other animal mom's and dad's was made easier somehow by the passing of Rocky. What does someone say to the owner who just lost their lifetime friend and furkid? How do you handle it? All I could come up with was hugging them as they left the room in tears. Sometimes it wasn't what was needed but mostly it was always welcomed because I recognized their loss and cried with them and allowed them that moment to be a human flooded with emotions. I always asked if they needed a hug and 99% of the time, male or female, they leaned hard into and stayed wrapped up in my enormous hug. When the loss included children I always got down on the floor with them and held their hand and together we stroked their friend. I never pulled away from the importance of the moment. I told the kid/kids that it was like closing one Harry Potter book and picking up the next in the series. I don't know if I really helped anyone. It could have been that in caring about them and their loss I was only helping myself even though the departed was not mine? Because really, how can anyone be "sorry"-- most of us are just glad it's not our problem.

Sometimes our task in this world is to be that person that exposes our human side and allows others to expose theirs. Nothing more than that.

As for my two fat cats? I wonder if there's a NutraSystem for Felines?  

The Final Frontier

I was watching a show about the sun two nights ago and I wondered if the sun makes any sounds, you know..out there in the expanses of space.   "The Sun is playing a secret melody, hidden inside itself, that produces a widespread throbbing motion of its surface. The sounds are coursing through the Sun's interior, causing the entire globe, or parts of it, to move in and out, slowly and rhythmically like the regular rise and fall of tides in a bay or of a beating heart." (Kenneth R. Lang) Sun Sounds 
This opened the door to the curiosity about other things in space. Off to the Google God! Apparently Earth makes sounds:    Earth Music     Jupiter makes sounds:   Jupiter Song   Here's lightning on Saturn:  Saturn   and a "Bow Shock" from Saturn  Saturn Bow Shock  Black holes and Quasars make sounds! Quasar   Black Hole  Neptune's Tune  NepTUNE   Even Uranus, Mercury and the Northern Lights all make sounds. It is clear that our seemingly unassuming Universe is anything but! I can see how these sounds would lead to the belief in other worldly beings---these sounds are spooky, the stuff of nightmares yet eerily beautiful at the same time.
                                                                 
The purpose of this blog to bring awareness to our small plot of land in the great vastness of space. We have been given the task and responsibility of tending to this "Garden of Eden"  Something surely is happening to our Mother Earth and there are many ideas and opinions about just what is happening. If there are "aliens" from other planets or even other galaxies you have to wonder why on Earth (another funny) they would want to study us or take over our planet. We have done a great job of mucking things up here. We've decided we could do whatever we wanted because our resources were so rich and abundant. They could never run out. Science is showing us that they are in fact running out and the depletion's are harmful to our long term ability to remain alive and on this planet. There are billions of people around the world not giving a shit about their "carbon foot print". Some of us have decided that when this planet dies or stops providing for us that we can simply board a space shuttle and hop from planet to planet. That kind of attitude is what has gotten us to the place we are right now.
                                                         
When I was about 10 or so, I saw an episode of The Twilight Zone. The story was about a scientist who had made a machine that could hear plants. What he heard was a rose bush screaming as the gardener pruned the blooms and an oak tree screeching as the lumberjack sawed and hacked into its trunk. I have never forgotten that story. We see all plants exacting their revenge on mankind through wind in the movie The Happening. The concept is both profound and haunting. What if?
                                                             
I leave you with this........
                                                                  

We may or may not be the only "beings" out there. What is certain is that this is our planet, our "temple" and it must be taken care of if the next generation of people, some of which will be related to you and I, are to thrive.Our parents always said "take care of what you have" or "you never miss anything until it's gone" and those words are never more important than right now. Our future looks bleak but it can be changed if we are conscious about what we do, how we live. Maybe the ancient ones had the right idea about giving thanks to the tree for its wood to keep them warm, to the stone to protect them in the form of a spear head, to the wind for keeping them cool, the rain, etc. And, in my opinion if we are in a place of thankfulness we are also in that place of divine love. Carry on....
                                                     

We regret to inform you

REGRET~ the human emotion of  "feeling sad, repentant, or disappointed over something that has happened or been done, especially a lost or missed opportunity" (Dictionary.com) . We live our daily lives with some form of regret and, as I am learning, it serves no purpose. It does nothing but remind us of what could have been, keeping us in the past. It keeps us sad, depressed and sometimes fearful. It eats away at our very being until all that is left is a hollow shell. Truth be told I have regrets. Here's the thing: as long as I look back on those regrets I will always find a reason to stay sad and connected to those regrets. My mother always says "you can't un ring that bell". What's been done is done and wishing it could have been different locks your ability to move forward into a death grip.

You may have heard me yammering about these "Isochronic tones". I would venture to say I am "addicted" to them but only in the sense that they actually help me through each day and new step I want and/or need to take. I believe these tones to be helping me to heal and strengthen my kidneys. I believe that these tones are keeping me in the "Zen Mind" . I had a PCT ( patient care tech) in the hospital that would ask me "what are we listening to today?" and one night she and I got into a deep discussion of what I was, in fact, listening to. She never said " you crazy old lady" but you could see it in her face. I finally said to her, as I have said to others, " If it's all in my head and turns out to be a placebo, that's okay. Good job to my brain for believing in the placebo and  now I have pretty music to keep listening to." She seemed to connect to that statement.

I digress. The reason for this blog is regret. As I sit here staring at my computer screen I am listening to "No Regrets" Isochronic Tones. As I listen to it I feel a deep sense of relief. It would be cliche but I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Earlier I was listening to "Christ Consciousness" and one of the tips they give you was to think about things, whether they be good or bad. When you get to the bad thought or memory simply say I send love to you and then allow the music to carry that love to the thought or memory. How very simple and yet very effective! I release my negativity, my regrets, my bad/sad memories and send them off into the cosmos attached to love and forgiveness.  Think of it as spring cleaning. You thrust the dusty curtains open and push open the windows to fresh air and warm sunlight. In doing this we open ourselves to absolute and unwavering love. Whether or not you believe in a high power or consciousness and label it God or The Universe, opening ones self to absolute love can never be wrong.  So I leave you with this:

Regret is a part of life. We've all lost something, an opportunity. Focusing on the loss is unhealthy and non productive. I don't believe in a God that wants nothing but pain and suffering. I also don't believe that you and I are "accidents" and that we are doomed to repeat our mistakes. I can't believe in a higher consciousness that uses our misfortunes as a giant cosmic "got'cha". I do believe that each one of us is unique, "original and worthwhile" and that we are a part of the "Christ Consciousness".  If it turns out that I'm wrong about all this, then when I die and meet you in line at the Pearly Gates, we can for sure have a discussion bout it. Until then, what or who or how does it hurt to always be in a place of love, understanding and forgiveness?  

Our inner Picasso

Creativity--- a word full of emotion. To some it is a blessing, a gift and one that is used nearly every day. To others it's a blessing they wish they had and almost covet. For some creativity comes as easy as breathing and for others they struggle with the concept of anything that is self created.
                                                         
In my opinion creativity and imagination are in tandem with each other and at times, one in the same. Without a healthy imagination you simply cannot light the embers of our creativity. We see the uninhibited imagination in children who see sea serpents in clouds, pots and pans as drums in a rock concert, couch pillows as the walls and ceilings to a "fort". And in books like Harold and the Purple Crayon. Somewhere along the path to adulthood we lose that spark and see only clouds full of rain, pots and pans with last nights' dinner cluttering the sink and couch pillows tattered by the family cat. I am never more aware of this as when I watch my own children. Where one can pick up a rubber mallet and aim it like a gun, the other will remind his brother that it's a "tool, not a toy". One can still lay on his bed surrounded with his star wars action figures and play a romping game complete with sound effects while the other will roll his eyes in disgust and return to more pressing matters such as tonight's episode of Wipe Out.

Fortunately there are still a few grown ups who have not lost the magic of their imagination and creativity. We call them artists ( Monet,van Gogh, or Picasso ),authors ( Shakespeare, Twain, or Hemingway) and sculptors ( Michelangelo, Rodin or Shaw-Judson). Those of us who embrace our inner Picasso look to such "Masters" for our inspiration. But where does creativity actually come from?  Scientifically, we all have TWO brains. The left half and the right half.  Both halves, separate and distinct from the other are responsible for different functions. According to Dan Eden ( "Left Brain:Right Brain") creative people tend to be right brain users which means they are broadminded, seeing the whole picture rather than fine details and are big risk takers. They are in both the present and the future, are good at philosophy and religion. The right brain is where imagination rules!  This is the exact opposite for people who use their left brain. They are detailed, practical, logical and safe. For them facts rock!    In a way, each of us has our very own James T. Kirk and Spock in our heads! Sadly, it would appear that many of our heads of State and Federal Government have become like the Neanderthal. It's been said the Neanderthal had huge brains but failed to evolve into humans. The people "in charge" have made a mess of things and blame each other for their own misconduct and misgivings. The truth of the matter is no one person fucked it up. It took many and will take just as many if not more to "fix it". Playing it safe is no longer an option. 
                                             
                                                                      
I leave you with this. I think that creativity is best described as " the process of producing something that is both original and worthwhile." I believe that we all need to tap into our inner Picasso or Harold. We need to entertain ideas drawn on butcher paper with a purple crayon. We need to don the business suits and high heels and grab a bucket of side walk chalk. We need to run through more puddles and chase more rainbows. We need to get down to brass tacks, which aren't really brass or tacks but clouds in the shape of sea serpents and unicorns.We need to blow more soap bubbles and watch amazed at the rainbow halo in each new sphere. We need to do more original and worthwhile things. Creativity is not the exclusive right of the 1%  it is in each and everyone of us.  Inspiration can be and is found in everything! When we stop believing, when we stop creating something original and worthwhile, all is lost.  I refuse to believe that all is lost!






 

It's the little things

Sometimes I forget how grown my kids are. It's not hard really...my brain stopped paying attention somewhere around 8 or 9 years old. So when I am faced with the fact that they are now 18 and 14, I feel a little like the kid who has to eat Lima beans for the first time. For the record I LOVE Lima beans! As life around me goes on and my sons continue to assert themselves in this crazy world, I silently cry inside wishing for the days when they wanted me to hug and kiss them and begged me to tickle their back. The days when they fought over who would sit in my lap or who got shotgun on the trip to the store. I am certain that most, if not all, mother's go through this ritual of losing their children to adulthood. We always want to know that we are needed and those endless nights of prayer and worry actually counted for something. In this, women are at a disadvantage over men, as men seem to lack the "worry" gene. A mother's will worry about every nick,scrape, scratch and cut. A father's will dust the kid off and tell them it builds character. If  little Timmy falls and hurts his arm, Mom's know it's broken and prepare to get him to the emergency room. Dad's will assess the injury and if there is no bone poking out of the skin, it's "just a scratch" and usher little Timmy back out side to play.
                  
I digress. While I am amazed and in awe at how grown my children have become I still long for the days when they actually wanted to be part of my world. Every day when my youngest goes to school I say: "Have a good day, be safe, I love you, and I'll see you when you get home" to which his reply is "uh huh". Now that he's in high school, gone are the days of  "Oh Mom guess what I did in class today?" Him saying I love you back is a distant memory and at this point I'm not sure if it's a real memory and a dream I once had. Every once in a while I get his consent to get and give a hug. I hold on until he has to peel me off!  When I was in the hospital I would text both kids and ask them how their day was, what they did that was fun...the things that I would ask them directly if I was home.  Replies from either child was few and far between. I knew in my heart of hearts they were playing video games and my texts were merely intrusions, like a gnat buzzing about their faces. When my oldest took off for the weekend, I knew my youngest would be in the house alone. Normally he looks forward to being free from his brother and his dad. But this time was different. So I texted him......
Me: You doing alright without your brother?
Him: okaaaay
Me: I'll be home later. Yay! I'm excited to see you again. I missed you!
Him: Ku
Me: Gramma is bringing me home.
Him: Kk
Me: I love you
Him: luv u 2
Me: Thanks! xoxoxo
Him: It will never happen again.

When I finally did get home he was on the couch, the TV playing, he had the laptop on his lap and headphones on. He managed enough effort and kindness to assist his grandmother with my bags and to assist me into my chair. A quick kiss on the cheek of his grandma and he was back under headphones and laptop.
                                                               
I've had 14 years of practice with him so I know that if I wait, I'll eventually hear what he wants me to hear. So I waited. It didn't take long... although  his words were telling me that he "rage quit" his game a few times and he was so frustrated with the internet and felt stupid for not knowing what the CSV number on his debit card was for a purchase he tried to make and how that really pissed him off-- the real message---was that he missed me and was so glad I was home and never to worry him again like that. This ultimately played out by his "so how ya been" inquiry the next morning. It's the little things that parents in general hold on to so tightly that we hurt ourselves. Those stolen moments when they forgot they hated you, those fleeting seconds when they lean into your hug and don't pull away first, those are the moments when you realize you are still very much a part of their lives and always will be.

                                                               

Home Sweet Home

Nothing makes you grateful for the comforts of home quite like a hospital. Although after having educated my nursing staff of the ways of this Ninja, the rest of my days and nights there were actually quite pleasant, serene  even. I have always had the gift of gab.........no....... really!  I use the gift to get into or out of most situations. All I need to do is ask a simple question or do something that is never expected.  Case in point: male nurse assigned to my night shift. Big tall scary looking guy. He walked into my room like Clint Eastwood and announced that nothing I could throw at him would ruffle his feathers... "I'm retired Navy I've seen stuff"--- Seriously?  I promptly threw my pillow at him hitting him smack in the face. His reply? "Good one."  Never saw it coming!
                                                                  

But I digress. I asked one question and he vomited a ton of information. His children come first, then his animals. He's in love with his 18 month old daughter ( I've seen her picture and she is so CUTE!) his dog ate a golf ball and ended up getting little holes throughout his intestines. Stand, my nurse, took him to vet only to find out that the surgery to repair said guts was off into the stratosphere. So he said put the dog down. The vet thought that the dog still had a long life in front of it so he offered to do the surgery for the $400 each that Stan had allotted all of his animals. Long story short the dog lived another 8 years and then had the same thing happen again. This time the vet said he would do the surgery for free and the dog lived another 6 years---old age set in, new and worsening health concerns overcame the dog so Stan lead the dog off into the woods and gently and lovingly said goodbye. Now he has a Rottweiler.
The following day my new nurse Holly puked her life's story as well. She met her husband and told him that the only way she would ever consider marriage is if she picked out the ring. He agreed, she picked her ring, they got married. They have 2 kids both girls and both with attitudes to make a Dallas Debutante blush.You can call her any name in the book but she'll slit your throat in your sleep if you call her "The 'c' word".  She also loves nursing by can't stand wound care; "creeps" her out. Which might be funny until you know that I was there to get wound care! So she asked the a specialized wound care team to ascend to my room. When I heard her story about queasy wound care I called her a pussy...she had to run around the floor looking for her eyes when they fell out. Never saw it coming!
                                                              

From that moment on she and I laughed and giggled and carried on like school girls. Word soon spread that patient N. Brown in room 536 was fun and funny!  The "PCT" (patient care tech) assigned to my nurse actually said "we'll miss you when you leave".  I may not be a great patient and only because I am feisty and determined to be self sufficient BUT when the moon is in the Seventh House And Jupiter aligns with Mars                                                    Then peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars.. when you don't wake me up and when you make sure I have a bottomless coffee cup...........                                                                                                                                       

                                                           

Hey! I am sleeping here!

Well it seems I  lost the battle with what started out as a simple infection. The oral medications were not working so to celebrate my year August anniversary with this hospital I thought I'd check in again this year. Anyone who knows me knows I am not a fan of hospitals, I hate being a patient. The only good thing is that I get an unspecified amount of time away from the insanity that is rampant in my home. Since.I'm easy to please food wise, I have little to complain about regarding the food here; I actually enjoy it. Last year at this time I was in a ward where I can only guess the worlds population of crazy people were. My roomie was an old lady who wanted to know everything about me and was sure she already knew me. She also delighted in making herself fall and was not the least bit shy about shitting on herself; if for no other reason than to gain the attention of the nursing staff. It was so bad that they often just ignored her confounded scree hing for help. This of course did little in the way of staying on my good side and I spent all 2 days in that room with the curtain drawn like a cloaking device around my bed. Making matters unbearably worse was the man down the hall who did nothing but scream. At first I thought he was recovering from surgery but the screaming went on into the dead of night and grew louder with each scream.  I found out later that he was dying from brain cancer and was so obese there was not enough medication available to make him comfortable.  Needless to say I cut him some slack, though I thought at times I would join him in his death screams!
This year I am to myself! Private room and bath. The bathroom is huge which I love! Last years bathroom was MAYBE the size of a broom closet. I am a big mamma and I am tall…this made it impossible to do my "business" in comfort or dignity!  Today as been a grey cloudy day with spotty showers. I have a direct view of the Catalinas and am loving it. Last night howver was a different story!
I have to take Rx sleeping pills. Without them I will not sleep. Its so bad that I went 17 days without sleep because my doctor was out of.town and none would renew the refill! I had my pills with me this time but was not given the green light to take them. So last night was a tough night. Dispite my zen music and morphine I could not sleep. Not helping was the fact that my bed was meant for a person as tall as a blade of grass. I finally drifted off about 12:30 or so……UNTIL……
I hear a light tapping on my door followed by a loud shrill "Goood morning!" and the flood lights in my room.sizzled to attention. Seems the orgre of a woman was sent to draw yet MORE blood. Now she has already had the poor luck of waking me up but she wants to chat while sticking her feindish needle not once but twice trying to find an adequate vein. She gave up and summoned someone else who stuck me once and was gone in less than  a nano second.
I gave up on sleep and watched some B O R I N G movie on TV. Dawn broke with a heavy down pour pelting my window. Breakfast could not be soon enough! Well, soon ended up being 8:30─God!? What did I ever do that you would taunt me so?!!! The final blow was that they did not bring coffee with my breakfast!  Folks, lemme tell you… there is no wrath like a sleep deprived, hungry old woman who didnt get coffee! Trust me!
Hoping to go home this weekend. But I am assured that 1) I will be getting sleeping pills and 2) there will be TWO cups of coffee at tomorrows breakfast!

Who you calling OLD?

                                                              


Being older definitely has it's advantages. There's Medicare, Retirement, and sometimes a leisurely lifestyle. Who could forget the senior discount. We have unlimited wisdom; we've" been there done that" more times then we can remember. While being older has it's perks, it also comes with some pitfalls. We move slower then when we were  20 something, we loose a few inches in height and gain it in weight. We tend to forget things like where the car keys are or where our glasses are. We ALL have meaningful affairs with Arthur Rightis and Dr. Ben Gay.  We use phrases like "when I was your age" or "back in the day" or "hot diggity dog or " a stones throw"  and we love telling stories about our childhood where more than just a handful of us had to walk to a one room schoolhouse, every day up hill in the snow, and barefoot.  We wear our age, like our grey hair, as a bade of courage. We earned it!

The BEST part of being older is that we no longer care about what people think of us and we have a certain amount of freedom with what we say and how we say it. Case in point: I'd not be betraying any secrets if I mentioned "SOLAR BEAR" a local business providing solar energy solutions. I looked them up online and my security program has big red blinking light next to their name---I'm not surprised.  My Mom was excited to know that they would be able to install a solar water heater and shelled out more than a few clams for their services. One thing after another happened, missed appointments, wrong parts, you name it and she had to endure it. After 2 years of being around the bushes and countless broken promises, she finally gave up and demanded that they refund her. They naturally tried every trick in the book to not have to refund her money---any amount! She ended up making noises in the direction of law suits, lawyers, the Attorney General, etc. and they finally agreed to to $900 which wasn't nearly what she paid originally! There were some bumps along the way with even that but she finally got her check. She went to cash it and.............. you guessed it!
                                           
                                           INSUFFICIENT FUNDS

Back in the day I was a ballsy red head. Piss me or mine off and you'd pray for a speedy death. Now days though my mobility issues serious impede my serious nature. I mean how can I compete against a person or people who have youth and speed on their side? I will tell you this.... if all goes to plan and I get a "hova-round" type chair you'd better get the fuck out the way! I imagine it will be like the hilarious scene in Seinfeld where  Constanza and an old man are chasing each other both in scooters! But I digress..... Mom got taken it seemed. Enough was enough! Through a friend she remembered about Barbara DeWall who is the check fraud knee breaker. Mother called Solar Bear told them they had until the end of business on Friday to make sure they had enough funds. If they didn't legal action would ensure and rather swiftly. I am happy to report she got her money! When asked why she was being so fussy her reply was " I'm old. I'm that much closer to heaven I got nothing to lose!"
                                                                    
Way to go Mom! Proud of ya and glad that at least for now, heaven can wait!

I want my Mommie!

I was recently pouting out loud via Twitter about being aggressively woken up from a nap and who the source of that aggravation was. It got me thinking about how men are in general. I have always remarked that I am a single mom of three teenagers ages 18, 14, and 46. You'd be right to say I don't look like I could have kids that old. Every woman understands the concept of the husband being the biggest child hands down. No wonder I have "tired wife" in my Twitter bio.

I am one woman surrounded by 3 males. My 1st born is 18, my baby is 14 and my husband is 46. My children have many years of learning interaction with mom. They know what it means to say "If momma ain't happy, no one is happy" and with some minor exceptions they strive to keep this momma happy. My husband, on the other hand,  is apparently not this smart. He has his moments of absolute clarity and wisdom. I wish he had more though. If his actions were to be the basis for all of MAN-kind then all men would be fighting an up hill battle! I can say that I do not "get" the male psyche. I know for sure that I am not the only woman on this planet that feels this way. I might be, however, the only woman in my tightly knit circle of friends that will actually blog about adventures in husbandry survival. Oprah has said "the toughest job is being a mom" or something like that. And she is so right.  Being a mom requires the patience of Job and the wisdom of the Universe.

While some women are striving to get to the top of the food chain in this otherwise dog eat dog world, Mothers were born at the top of the chain and will stop at nothing to ensure their children take their rightful place. This sometimes means having to kick other players off the field to widen the pathway to the goal. Mothers have mastered being able to simultaneously wash clothes, cook dinner, clean house, and get to the soccer game or dance recital. Mothers sleep when the work is done but since the work is never done......... Mothers are teachers, doctors, coaches, cabbies, psychiatrists, chefs, stain wranglers, veterinarians, seamstresses, referees, firefighters, and CFO's of any household. Why we devote only one day in May to honor Mothers deserves reflection! If any man could get pregnant, carry to term and then go through labor and all it's challenges I am certain that women would be revered as nothing short of amazing.
                                                                     
While men are hardwired to hunt and gather and protect, they fall short of realizing their success is due largely to the woman who stands quietly and patiently behind him. It's a little like those cartoons where the big scary dog is going to square off with the tiny innocent little kitten. Unbeknownst to the kitten, there is a HUGE lion behind it and the dog runs away tail tucked and yipping in fear. The differences between men and woman have always been defined as men being "superior" over women. And while science has proven that men have stronger upper bodies, thicker skin and skulls and that women have 4 times more brain cells then men making it easier for women to problem solve better, it fails to explain why men will always seek their mother's comfort, their mother's home cooking. Why men will always shout "HI MOM"!! when they're on TV.
                                                         

I leave you with this: Without women we'd all still be using leaves to wipe our butts, blowing our noses in our hands, chewing with our mouths hanging open, etc.  Roger Ebert said: "Women are nicer than men. There are exceptions. Most people of both sexes are probably fairly nice, given the nature of their upbringing and opportunities. But in terms of their lifelong natures, women are kinder, more empathetic, more generous. And the sooner more of them take positions of power, the better our chances as a species."
Where the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, the path to a woman's heart lays in a man's reliability and responsibility. Let the women, the true professionals, carve a place in this world without obstruction. Let the women tend to matters of finances, religion, politics, child bearing and raising, education, and long-term survival. Men have long dominated these fields but few could do so without the support of a woman---a mother. Simply put, men are only as good as their mother made them.
                                           

An Olympic Thought

I was going to blog about something funny--now I can't remember what it was--but as I sit here, I am horrified to learn that a "copy cat" killing has occurred in Minnesota. It's times like this where I fight to keep from plunging into the icy depths of despair. I could spend countless hours trying to discover why these things are happening and why someone can do such horrific acts. I would  never arrive at a conclusion. It is, in my mind, senseless.  We all ask ourselves these same questions and I find it almost comical that in the end we blame it on the welfare system, the poverty level, the jobless rate, the lack of health care. We end up pointing fingers at each other never really accepting responsibility.

PLEASE! In no way am I implying that you or I have any part in the recent events--please do not leave me a nasty comment. 

Hilary Clinton said once "It takes a village to raise a child"-- at the time I could not wrap my head around what she meant...if I'm busy raising my own kids how the hell do I find time to raise yours!?  Since then I have learned that it was, an African proverb that basically means the raising of any child is shared by the immediate family and the extended family. We look out for one another. Case in point: right now, "across the pond" there are 204 countries all competing for bragging rights. Ordinary people hoping to become extraordinary and "bring home the gold". People of all ages, educational backgrounds, etc. have gathered in one location. They all start on a level playing field, if you will, because they all are the best at what they do competing with other equals. They all wake up every morning while in London with butterflies in their bellies and they all go to sleep hoping they do better tomorrow.  They all dream about winning a gold medal. They all rehearse in their minds how they will spike the ball, stick the landing, swim the backstroke, pace their run, move in synchronicity, etc. In this time they are all focused on one thing, a common goal. To win. We would be wise to learn from these athletes. They have shown us that the lines between races ( black white, Asian, etc), education and income have been blurred. They have shown us that when one has lost, they all have lost, when one wins, they all win.

When one of us is lost then we are all lost. The tragedy of 3 weeks ago and of today affect us all. It is not just an American or a British or a Chinese or Japanese thing but a PEOPLE thing.... a village. If we are to avoid the undoing of mankind, we must strive to come together as one huddled mass with one common goal. To win.....win the "war" against poverty, homelessness, and the declining educational system to name a few. We can no longer afford the maintain  every man for him or herself.

I leave you with this. There is a movie called Pay it Forward. If you've never seen it, you really should. The message in this movie is clear: when you do something good for someone else, their "repayment" to you is giving it to someone else. In other words if I make a food box for someone who has little or no food, they repay my kindness by doing the same thing for someone else rather than giving me the food back. We are all Olympians in our own right. We all have the potential for extraordinary. We are all  the Village and the child is one another.

                                         

''Dyslexic man walks into a bra"

Humor--- what is exactly? Wikipedia explains it as:  "the tendency of particular cognitive experiences to provoke laughter and provide amusement. The term derives from the humoral medicine of the ancient Greeks, which taught that the balance of fluids in the human body, known as humors (Latin: humor, "body fluid"), control human health and emotion."

My oldest finds humor in everything. No subject is taboo to him. If there's a joke or a pun to be made, he'll make it. Someone said comedians have a third eye for the funny and where it pertains to my son, that is true! My youngest is still testing the comedy pool water but tends to be snarky with his humor. My husband tries to be funny but fails, miserably, because he thinks that yelling the punch line will make it funnier. Often the funniest thing about his jokes is him laughing at himself and the stunned and scared looks of the people he's talking/yelling at.
                                                

I like Victor Borge and especially his phonetic punctuation routine. I love Danny Kaye, Groucho Marx, Gallagher, Bill Cosby, and Jerry Lewis. I cannot stand "humor" like the Three Stooges. What makes us laugh is as personal as the type of music we listen to. And, just like music, humor has a profound effect on the human mind, body, and soul. There are a million different studies showing the effects, or benefits, of humor and laughter. These studies suggest that laughter helps to increase blood flow, aids in boosting one's immunity by raising the levels of the anti-bodies that help us fight infections. It's  also been suggested that laughter helps us fight fear and depression, reduces stress and even "cure" cancer! There are groups now days that actually teach you how to laugh! Who of us hasn't had the uncontrollable urge to laugh during a serious moment like a funeral or during the vow at a wedding?  Kids are often the catalyst for humor just by their innocence and the sheer horror their innocence inflicts on their parents. Case in point: my mom tells a story about the time when my two brothers got bored during a choir rehearsal at the church we went to. They wondered hither and fro until they found the baptismal area which was empty....and behind the choir. One brother yelled to the other something about the giant bathtub and proceeded to run VERY loudly through it.
                                                                

I leave with this---- life is full of stress. Some days it just feels like an entire lifetime of stress has landed on our door step all in one day. If life was easy, we'd all be born with roller skates instead of feet and rain drops would be skittles. How we deal with stress is more important than the stress itself. If we can find humor in that stress, we can put ourselves ahead of the game If we can't find the humor, we should make it. Strip down to our skivvies, stand in the middle of the kitchen and just laugh! Yeah it's weird but that's the humor of it all.  Erma Bombeck said it best: "When humor goes, there goes civilization."