Wart Display

Letseeeeee ... earliest ACTUAL memory of my sister ...

I remember *trying* to hang out with her friends in their CampFire Girl Troupe, when I was still just a BlueBird. I believe I may have been 6?

Or possibly when we would have our dance classes at the same time. Watching her being so graceful and making it look so easy. I was probably 8 or 9.

I vividly recall us rough housing one night with the dog, and her slamming my left hand in the bedroom door. (I honestly don't remember much of the earlier incident of falling from the top of a playground tower, 'tho I know that was the first time I broke a bone.) I know this happened when I was in the 2nd grade.

And I remember realizing for the first time that she was just trying to find her way as best she could as an adult, and thinking "pay attention 'cause you could learn a LOT here". I was living alone - really alone - for the first time of my life, so I was 20.

OH - and finally, I remember when AeroSmith released "Walk This Way" on their album "Toys In The Attic". My sister had a small wart on her knee that she was trying to get rid of so, sensitive younger sister that I am, I made sure to sing out "Wart Display" at the top of my lungs to that tune every chance I could. (I was 7.)

Tomorrow she'll be 45 years old. Think I'll send her "Walk This Way" on iTunes.

Dedicated to Mr. Lee Smith

I realize that this is supposed to be my "life" blog, not my "Katrina" blog ... but, just for today, they're being merged. Deal with it. It'll make sense shortly.
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Wednesday, October 18, 2006

The Autodesk Volunteer Team had a good day today.

Yesterday late in the afternoon, we received a very cool invitation to join our Tualatin volunteer friends at a home they've been working on ... so I need to write about Mr. Lee Smith.

Lee is in his 50's, living in Biloxi about 2 miles from the coast. When he bought his home, his realtor advised him not to buy flood insurance. Flood waters hadn't been seen in that part of town in over 40 years -- even prior to Hurricane Camille. Lee has significant health issues, and he's raising his two daughters as best he can. Since he was purchasing a home that he knew he'd need to do work on, he decided to take his realtor's advice and use that money to fix up his home and to pay his growing medical bills.

He hadn't yet taken the plastic wrap off his new couch when Katrina came into Biloxi. The Smith home was moved 15 feet away from the original foundation and into the middle of their street. The contents inside were "blown out the back of the building" and into their yard. (I'm quoting here because it's what I was told and it's a very accurate description.) The demolition of this home was fairly quick - it was literally cut up into smaller pieces and then hauled away.

It'd be easy to say that the Smith Family lost it all, but it wouldn't be accurate.


Lee Smith made lunch today for about 50 volunteers. He started his BBQ at about 6am this morning and cooked all the side dishes the previous day. He served all of us - each one - standing at his BBQ and he shook every hand and thanked every person for joining him for lunch in his backyard. Some were people he’s never met, who haven’t worked on his home (like the Autodesk Volunteer Team) and others were people who he now regards as his extended family. Lee Smith has friends, family, faith, hope, an amazing heart, and a generous spirit. He also has SERIOUS BBQ skills.

We feasted on ribs, chicken, sausage, macaroni salad, collard greens, bean salad, and corn bread (two kinds - with and without peppers) ... all provided by a man in poor health who is living with his daughters in a trailer next to their new home, which is still just bare studs.


It’s October 2006 now - maybe the Smith Family will be in their home by Christmas this year. But, more importantly, they will be together and they will be safe, which is more than they had last year. Progress is slow ... but it IS happening.

Yep - the Autodesk Volunteer Team had a very good day today.
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January 28, 2008
I awoke, thumbed through the newspaper, and turned on my Blackberry. A message from Jim Pringle was waiting. "Hi Jules - just a short note, as I’m running late. News from Mississippi - Lee Smith died last night. At least he had a year in his new Earthly home - and now he’s gone home for eternity."

And a quote from a stud inside the walls of Lee’s home.
Psalm 89:1 I will sing of the loving kindness of the Lord forever.

Vote early ... and often

I have been a voter since the day I legally could register to do so. Even when the choices were slim, I would vote for whomever I felt would do the least damage. (Sadly, sometimes that IS the only way to chose a candidate.) I'm a HUGE believer in being a part, no matter how small, in the process, no matter how broken. Ya' don't earn the right to bitch if you didn't use your right to vote.

So when my ballot appeared in the mail not that long ago, I noticed right away that there were no listings in the "President of the United States" area. I did my homework, and found that since I'd registered as "none of your dang business", the ballot would not allow me to vote for whomever I'd want to lead my country. Which, when I considered the 240 hours of volunteer clean-up work I'd done in the past two years under the current administration, felt like a big ol "thanks for nuttin'" kind of a thing to do.

So I found the appropriate instructions to get a ballot that WOULD allow me to vote for "da Prez", and waited. Sure 'nuf, in about two weeks, here's my new and improved ballot - which includes the names of folks that have since dropped out. (NOT the fault of the printers, folks lagging way behind often *do* drop out. It's my job, as in informed voter, to keep up on these things.)

Anyway so things were all taken care of, yes? Well on Tuesday, I went to my office and had a message from the local voter registration folks asking for me to contact them - which I did. "So we wanted to make sure you got the ballot you requested. Did you?" I assured them that I had. They asked what I did with the previous ballot.

Since I had NO intention of using it, I used it to test the blades of some knives I'd just had rehoned and sharpened. And, since I know that not everyone on the planet would actually buy this as an answer (even 'tho it was the truth), I just said that I had shreadded it. (Truth be told, I did shread it. The ballot is a heavier weight paper and it worked GREAT to test my knives.) "What's that you say? You never got it?" said the voice on the other end of the phone.

"No", I said. "I shreadded it. Myself. Tore it all up and tossed it away." "Strange that you didn't receive the first one", said the woman - which is when it dawned on me that she wanted me to play with her. "Right - yeah, I thought so too but nope, just never got one. I have this one now, 'tho so we're all good."

And I thought we were.

Friday, as I was working from home, the mail arrived. And with it, another ballot. This one also includes the options for President. Unfortunately, a quick scan showed all the same names. (I was hoping perhaps that someone new had shown up and that they'd be "the obvious choice".)

Anyway, I guess I just never realized how much my city has in common with Chicago.

Gimme my damn cake.

Maybe I'm just asking for too much.

I want my pets. I want my comforts. I want familiar territory where I know all the backroads and shortcuts. I want the surroundings and the sounds and the faces and the weather and all the little details that are the touchstones I grew up with. I want my friends, my family, my coworkers, my grocery clerk, my mechanic, my postman, my hairdresser, my parking lot attendant, my vet, my doctor, and my dentist to accept and fully understand what I have yet to explain to myself. I want to snap my fingers and have everything adjusted, yet remain "as is". I want to change it all, without disappointing a soul. I want to hurt no one. Oh, and I wanna know ... not because of verbage but absolutely KNOW ... that this is the best thing for all concerned.

I don't just want my cake to eat the damn thing. I want my cake so that I can eat it and still not gain an ounce.
No wonder this feels greedy.

Best fishes for a quick recovery

Cats purr when they're in pain. It's true. When cats are cornered, in despair, or physically in pain, they will purr. See, it's we humans that noticed that cats purr when they're content so we always associate purring with being happy and safe, but a cat in pain, or even just in danger, will purr.

And it's not that strange, if you stop and think about what cat-loving humans do when we hear a purr. Typically, we slow down and enjoy the sound. We'll smile, or take a deep breath, and just enjoy the sound. Well that's what a cat is doing - trying to calm down and manage things. Much like some folks have a mantra they use to regain their composure, a cat will purr to do the same thing. Heck - humans cry when we're sad, or in pain, or yes, when we're happy or overwhelmed, so it's a similar reaction.

I mention this whole "why cats purr" thing because I had to take Hobbes in for dental work yesterday morning. He got four of his tiny little teeth removed (they were causing him pain), and came home very hungry, groggy, and not very amused about his left arm having been shaved (to allow for the IV during his procedure). He has pain management and recovery medications that I'll be giving to him over the next several days, which in and of itself should be quite amusing/frustrating for both of us.

At 4am, he came strolling into the bedroom and was purring so loudly he woke me up from a very sound sleep. He kept at it for about 4 minutes until it dawned on me that he was asking for relief, not expressing his gratitude for being home.

It's about 1:30pm now and I'm watching him as he rests on the couch. He keeps one eye open to watch Minnie, who is curled up on the footstool. I don't know how long a cats memory goes back, but I hope he soon forgets the trauma of yesterday's visit to his vet. I'd rather he think of how warm, safe, and pain-free he is right now. And I hope he's purring.

Touchdown me. I win.

The call came about 4pm on Friday. The details: Football, tickets, playoffs, club level. "I'll call you back" and he turned to ask me if I'd be up for it.

I love football. I do. I love yelling at the moron plays, the CLEARLY blind refs, pointing out the skank four rows down who just took off her top to make sure she got on TV, the cheerleaders doing their best to not have us despair when our team is 4 touchdowns behind. Plus, I understand football. I know what the signals mean, and the scoring vs baseball where folks are making all kinds of signals and players being allowed to send in "substitutes" ... well ... *yawn* I'm sorry I drifted off. Where was I?

Oh right - yeah - do I wanna go? Well in a word "yes". Yes, I want to go. It's why I'm here, to spend time witcha after all. We'd get quiet time in the car ('cause honestly quiet time has been RARE this time around), I'd get to see Seattle(!!!) with someone who appreciates food as much as I do, and then yeah, the game.

But do I wanna go? Well in a word "no". Because it's January. And it's cold. And raining. And likely will be colder and rainier and the idea of sitting outside to freeze my ass off *and* inevitibly catch a cold when I could just turn on the idiot box and watch if from the comfort and safety of a home, sans driving, maybe even with glass of hot chocolate and an appreciative and calm dog ... it's an easy choice.

So please - you go. By doing so, you've given me a nice, quiet, calm day to do whatever ME things I wanna do, and I'll get some "around the house" things accomplished that I know you don't always have time for, and at the end of the day, I'll have "awesome woman" points that I will enjoy down the line. That's what we call an "easy 6".

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Update: It's 9:20am, and the phone rings. "Hi, it's me. We may be home kinda late tonight. It's - uhhhh - snowing." *giggle* I have chosen wisely.

Wait - where the hell am I?

I don't think of my county of residence as particularly hip, with-it, happenin' ... or whatever slang term you kids use these days. There are, apparently, things I take for granted, 'tho. I take for granted that there are three - count 'em THREE - conglomerate coffee houses within easy walking distance from my home. I also take for granted that there is a trustworthy mechanic, two high-end grocery stores (and a third that I can use for "basics"), two large pharmacies, and several cute little shops literally no further than a mile and a half from my home. But again - we're NOT a "hip" town. Trust me on this.

So when I found myself traveling yesterday, I decided that I could just buy my favorite "traveling magazines" at the grocery store at the other town after I landed. After all, I had some basics to pick up and knew I was going to a large store, so how difficult would it be to find "Vanity Fair" and "Vogue", right? In fact, I was really looking forward to picking up Vanity Fair - go take a look online at the cover for January 2008, I'll wait.

.....

.....

Ok - so now you know WHY I wanted this issue.

So I go to the grocery store and ... *buzzer* .. strike one. No "Vanity Fair". Two racks of "Hunters Seasonal", "Quilting Today", "Vegans and their Kitchens", "Quilters Quarterly", "Moosers Mauling Monthly", "Weekly Veganism", etc - you get the idea. And then, on the third rack, AHA! - The telling letters peaking out from the top - what looked like a "V" and a "O" ... "Vogue"! Oh happy day!!!!! Maybe I COULD fit in here if I had to - heck, place can't be all bad - they hunt, they like to stay warm, they eat well, and they read "Vogue".

So I reach out and grab the magazine, smiling wide ... "Yoga".

Freaking "Yoga" magazine.

I'm too cosmopolitan for this town ...

It’s All Just A Little Bit Of History Repeating

Most of the newspaper columns, blogs, and emails written today were about either wrapping up 2007 or launching 2008. As such, I've decided to share what, for me, really spoke towards both items in the form of an Associated Press item I found on the evening of December 31st, 2007. I'd also like to tip my hat to Propellerheads & Shirley Bassey for providing a great soundtrack to my blog entry today.

Men Shoot Themselves in Tattoo Attempt
Monday, December 31, 2007 20:15 PST CHAPARRAL, N.M. (AP) --
Getting a tattoo can be a painful proposition, but usually it's just the needle you have to worry about. Two men trying to trace a loaded .357-caliber Magnum as a pattern for a tattoo accidentally shot themselves, the Otero County Sheriff's Department said Monday.
Robert Glasser and Joey Acosta, both 22, were treated at a hospital in El Paso, Texas, after the shooting Thursday evening in nearby Chaparral.
Authorities said Glasser was struck in the hand when the gun accidentally went off, and Acosta was hit in the left arm. Their injuries were not life-threatening, authorities said.