I've noticed lately that people who have a tendency to weigh-in on political blogs/stories/etc. are those with the strongest opinions. And maybe sometimes crazy. (Plantboy found one the other day slamming the "comunist public eduacatoin" system. Spelling from the original.) Reasoned discussions are getting harder to come by, though I dearly love them. I feel like throwing in the towel entirely when a friend, an actual friend, basically announced to the world on my Facebook page that people who didn't see Romney as the one to save us from ourselves just hadn't prayed enough about it. Okay, that is maybe a little bit dramatic . . . but any implication that my spirituality is in question because I'm an Obama supporter is just really not okay. And I wish members of the Church would just STOP IT. And I also am sorry to those Romney supporters out there if I have made you to feel that wasn't okay. I am sorry if my criticisms at times have crossed over from problems with him as a candidate or his positions into problems with members of his voting bloc. Members of the Church need to STOP THAT too.
And along with things we are stopping, how about dropping some of that gloom-and-doom last days stuff we hear in Sunday school in exchange for optimism, hope and joy. Contrary to whatever some people think, I don't come to Church to feel worse about my neighbors or terrified about raising my children. And I think most of my neighbors are pretty good folks . . . and I have no idea what (or if any) religion they are. We focus so much on what is OUT THERE, but the scriptures tell us the Church was never destroyed by what was out there, only by what was inside.
Just yesterday we were riding our bikes and rode through pile of crunchy leaves and I felt unbelievably happy to be alive at this time, in this place, with these kids and with that sound. Whenever we talk about getting back to the "good old days" let's at least be realistic about what life looked like then. Few opportunities for women. No voting rights. No community diversity. Uncertain air and water and food supplies. Education for some, but no for all. Work from sun up to sun down just to feed your family. No laws to protect women from male piggishness; which, let's face it, has been a part of humanity since the discovery of sex. Sanctioned segregation. Again, if we are to talk about some fictional return to Mayberry, let's remind ourselves that it really is fiction.
I've also noticed that mom-blogs with the most hits and responses are those that tend toward pictures of cute new mommies throughout pregnancy, book reviews, recipes, fashion tips and decorating ideas. Don't get me wrong; I like these blogs too. But I hope we aren't losing our chance to say something important because there are things easier to think about than hard things. Conversely, I hope I don't lose my chance to enjoy life because my head is always filled with the hard things.
On these musings I'm going to close by saying that I'm not going to post anything political here or on Facebook until the election. You know my views and for the most part I know yours. TamathyC said that we don't post to convince (how often does THAT happen), but to know we aren't alone. You have taught me to know that I'm not alone. That there is place for me in the culture of my choice. It is just that the opposition voices are getting too loud, and sometimes too personal. I just think I can't stand up as a target anymore. Of course, I'm still happy to have a private and reasonable conversation with any one of you. You know where to find me.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
To Kill a Mockingbird
It doesn't seem to matter how many times I read it. I still cry every time they convict Tom Robinson.
Maybe worse this time. There is so much animosity in our country right now. What have we really learned? It probably doesn't help that the last book I finished was The Grapes of Wrath. Methinks a nice, fluffy fantasy romance must be next.
Maybe worse this time. There is so much animosity in our country right now. What have we really learned? It probably doesn't help that the last book I finished was The Grapes of Wrath. Methinks a nice, fluffy fantasy romance must be next.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Random Stuff and Head Hunting
I was head-hunted for a job yesterday.
Okay, it is kind-of a job. One of my professors had his TA quit on him and when the personnel person asked him to submit a list of students he would chose to replace this person, he put my name at the top of the list! I am sure it is because I use terms like "personnel person." I have had him for a couple of classes, and his research is all in middle school science. The class is all on-line, and my work will be too. It is a very good resume builder for my field--now I will have experience both taking and teaching on-line courses. This professor isn't very old; I probably have more teaching experience than he does, actually.
This situation arose like so many have in the past. You know that I quit my newspaper job in June, and that some weird, unexpected expenses have come up since then. I have been very worried, truthfully, and also wondering how we could afford to fly to Utah for Christmas. (Padawan wants to be baptized there; his birthday is in December.) And, like so many answers in to money questions we've had in the last decade, work opportunities have arisen.
It is the first time in a lot of years that I'll be working at a regular job that I really love. (I love tutoring too, but the work is spotty.) And it is the first time ever that somebody came looking for me. The excitement I felt at the offer tells me that I'm really in the right place.
The next random thing is that I just got an e-mail from Michaels that says they can give me "low-stress holiday help." Yeah, right. Going to Michaels for more Christmas decorations when there are already five boxes in my attic that don't fit in my house, is really the ticket for de-stressing. Oh, and thinking about Christmas three months ahead of time is going to help me simplify my life too.
The last thing is two shout-outs to famous Mormons.
The first is to Joanna Brooks, who reposted my last post on her Facebook page and garnered over three hundred hits! I sent her a friend-message after I saw her on the Jon Stewart show because I appreciated with how much aplomb she handled herself. (I also appreciate spell check for helping me spell aplomb--it only took four tries.) She graciously answered. On the Daily Show she was lovely and together and progressive without being disrespectful. I'm not a Mormon feminist. I just can't lump myself there, but I do appreciate in a lot of ways what she is trying to do. Besides that she was wearing turquoise jewelry with a red dress and her hair is fabulous. Go Mormon women!
The second shout-out is to Mitt Romney. I voted for Barack Obama in the last election, and am part of that 47% in his pocket for this election. I don't believe I am entitled to government handouts. Health care, food, or handouts. I work hard and help my neighbor and live within my budget. If the tax code changes I will do my part; I think more Americans need some skin in the game. If you are elected, you will be my president, and I sincerely hope that you don't write me off because it is not your job to worry about Americans who didn't vote for you. That's all.
Okay, it is kind-of a job. One of my professors had his TA quit on him and when the personnel person asked him to submit a list of students he would chose to replace this person, he put my name at the top of the list! I am sure it is because I use terms like "personnel person." I have had him for a couple of classes, and his research is all in middle school science. The class is all on-line, and my work will be too. It is a very good resume builder for my field--now I will have experience both taking and teaching on-line courses. This professor isn't very old; I probably have more teaching experience than he does, actually.
This situation arose like so many have in the past. You know that I quit my newspaper job in June, and that some weird, unexpected expenses have come up since then. I have been very worried, truthfully, and also wondering how we could afford to fly to Utah for Christmas. (Padawan wants to be baptized there; his birthday is in December.) And, like so many answers in to money questions we've had in the last decade, work opportunities have arisen.
It is the first time in a lot of years that I'll be working at a regular job that I really love. (I love tutoring too, but the work is spotty.) And it is the first time ever that somebody came looking for me. The excitement I felt at the offer tells me that I'm really in the right place.
The next random thing is that I just got an e-mail from Michaels that says they can give me "low-stress holiday help." Yeah, right. Going to Michaels for more Christmas decorations when there are already five boxes in my attic that don't fit in my house, is really the ticket for de-stressing. Oh, and thinking about Christmas three months ahead of time is going to help me simplify my life too.
The last thing is two shout-outs to famous Mormons.
The first is to Joanna Brooks, who reposted my last post on her Facebook page and garnered over three hundred hits! I sent her a friend-message after I saw her on the Jon Stewart show because I appreciated with how much aplomb she handled herself. (I also appreciate spell check for helping me spell aplomb--it only took four tries.) She graciously answered. On the Daily Show she was lovely and together and progressive without being disrespectful. I'm not a Mormon feminist. I just can't lump myself there, but I do appreciate in a lot of ways what she is trying to do. Besides that she was wearing turquoise jewelry with a red dress and her hair is fabulous. Go Mormon women!
The second shout-out is to Mitt Romney. I voted for Barack Obama in the last election, and am part of that 47% in his pocket for this election. I don't believe I am entitled to government handouts. Health care, food, or handouts. I work hard and help my neighbor and live within my budget. If the tax code changes I will do my part; I think more Americans need some skin in the game. If you are elected, you will be my president, and I sincerely hope that you don't write me off because it is not your job to worry about Americans who didn't vote for you. That's all.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Nun on the Bus
Joanna Brooks wrote a very good article for the on-line magazine Religion Dispatch. The article is titled Where are the Mormon "Nuns on the Bus?" The point of the article, to me, is about how other faith-based organizations and churches view our charitable work. The iconic nun-in-the-working-class-or-poverty-stricken neighborhood is very much associated with Catholicism. The preacher marching with his parishioners for Civil Rights became a symbol for the Southern Baptist churches. And though the image has received unfortunate taint in recent years, many Catholics will gladly remember a kind priest who ran the boys' club that kept many wayward youth off the streets.
But the Mormon icon in the same strain is the missionary. Suited and clean cut. In a world of waning formality, even at Church, the conservative dark suit is seen as attire of bankers and businessmen. The broadest public faces of our Church are little Mitt-Romney's-in-training. Or, Brooks argues, so it seems to people who don't really know all that we are about.
The title of her article made me laugh. On my mission, my companions and I were often mistaken for nuns, particularly on days when we dressed conservatively. We didn't always, of course (even before the "new" sister-clothing guidelines sisters pretty much did as they pleased), but I did have this one particularly plain and serviceable (read: ugly) navy blue skirt that I often paired with a very unfortunate white polyester blouse. And with the "Sister" title on the name tag . . . well, you can hardly blame the vaguely religious Aussies for assuming things.
But I remember one day that I was the nun on the bus. And I remember how happy and humbled I felt that day. And I felt the barest amount of understanding (and envy?) for the life chosen by such a one as Mother Teresa.
It wasn't actually a bus, it was a train. And it was a very full train. So full in fact that many people were standing in the spaces in the ends of the compartments where people get on and off. We usually rode there because we often took our bikes on the trains. But that particular day, a woman was riding in the end compartment, slumped against the wall and exhausted. I have no idea why she looked so haggard. She probably wasn't any older than my 21 years at the time. A young and rambunctious child was with her, and he was getting many looks from the other passengers, who regarded the mother with judgmental eyes as well. It was clear from just a couple of minutes, however, that mothering (not to mention a host of other things) was just beyond her that day.
I wasn't really that great with young kids then, having had little practice, but I could see that help was needed. I sat on the floor of the train in the tiny space available, pulled out my scripture marking pencils and a scrap of paper and started drawing pictures for the little man and listening to him chatter. He sat down near me and stayed away from the other passengers. His mother mouthed the word "thank you" and leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
The moment was brief, maybe ten minutes, but I understood a real lesson there. I might have stood and looked down at her on the floor and wondered what kind of mother she was, and in times before and times since that has been my mindset. But in that moment, I understood about serving with no other reason than love. I didn't try to convert or preach. I didn't pass along contact information or hope to get praise. I was just the nun on the bus, and All I represented was, for a shining moment, a million times more important than my individual self. No surname or even Church was needed, the only two names on the tag of any significance were "Sister" and "Christ."
But the Mormon icon in the same strain is the missionary. Suited and clean cut. In a world of waning formality, even at Church, the conservative dark suit is seen as attire of bankers and businessmen. The broadest public faces of our Church are little Mitt-Romney's-in-training. Or, Brooks argues, so it seems to people who don't really know all that we are about.
The title of her article made me laugh. On my mission, my companions and I were often mistaken for nuns, particularly on days when we dressed conservatively. We didn't always, of course (even before the "new" sister-clothing guidelines sisters pretty much did as they pleased), but I did have this one particularly plain and serviceable (read: ugly) navy blue skirt that I often paired with a very unfortunate white polyester blouse. And with the "Sister" title on the name tag . . . well, you can hardly blame the vaguely religious Aussies for assuming things.
But I remember one day that I was the nun on the bus. And I remember how happy and humbled I felt that day. And I felt the barest amount of understanding (and envy?) for the life chosen by such a one as Mother Teresa.
It wasn't actually a bus, it was a train. And it was a very full train. So full in fact that many people were standing in the spaces in the ends of the compartments where people get on and off. We usually rode there because we often took our bikes on the trains. But that particular day, a woman was riding in the end compartment, slumped against the wall and exhausted. I have no idea why she looked so haggard. She probably wasn't any older than my 21 years at the time. A young and rambunctious child was with her, and he was getting many looks from the other passengers, who regarded the mother with judgmental eyes as well. It was clear from just a couple of minutes, however, that mothering (not to mention a host of other things) was just beyond her that day.
I wasn't really that great with young kids then, having had little practice, but I could see that help was needed. I sat on the floor of the train in the tiny space available, pulled out my scripture marking pencils and a scrap of paper and started drawing pictures for the little man and listening to him chatter. He sat down near me and stayed away from the other passengers. His mother mouthed the word "thank you" and leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
The moment was brief, maybe ten minutes, but I understood a real lesson there. I might have stood and looked down at her on the floor and wondered what kind of mother she was, and in times before and times since that has been my mindset. But in that moment, I understood about serving with no other reason than love. I didn't try to convert or preach. I didn't pass along contact information or hope to get praise. I was just the nun on the bus, and All I represented was, for a shining moment, a million times more important than my individual self. No surname or even Church was needed, the only two names on the tag of any significance were "Sister" and "Christ."
Friday, September 07, 2012
Summer Fun
These first few are from the annual pilgrimage to Henrick's Park. Though our summer wouldn't officially start for a few weeks after this, the blooming rhododendrons always tell us that it is just around the corner. These were taken on a Sunday afternoon; we also brought a picnic and some frisbees. My parents came just a week later and we did a repeat on Mothers' Day. Our Eugene weather is so typical this year: A glorious May followed by June monsoon and then two months of days between 75 and 85. Absolutely lovely. Plantboy tells me that we have changed from a La Nina weather pattern to an El Nino one. All I know is that it means we could continue with our lovely summer well into October. It makes me want to rent a house at the coast and write a novel. Isn't that the way one should spend a rare Indian summer?
When my parents came to visit we had several beautiful-weather days. It was a relief; they had started to believe that we only had rain here in Oregon! On one of those lovely days we hiked up to Spencer's Butte. The hike is only a couple of miles, but pretty rigorous. The boys did great, and were well- rewarded with a view of miles and miles in every direction. This could very well become another family tradition. We took my parents to my favorite beach spot while they were here too, on my birthday even. After a lazy afternoon at Haceta Head we found a wonderful Italian restaurant in Florence where all of the beachcombers ate every scrumptious bite. It was a delightful birthday.
Our bountiful harvest started early this year. My pictures from June and July are a little thin around here. I was completely consumed with school, which I had to finish up a couple of weeks early so we could vacation in August. My classes were harder than they have been since my undergraduate biology days. I love doing hard things, though. My sense of accomplishment was profound and I learned so much that will help me career-wise. My children were definitely ready to get their mother back by late July. In June I visited Utah for a few days on my own, which was really lovely. I haven't done anything by myself for a couple of years. On July 4th, the Jedi took some of this lovely produce and set up a mini farmers' market (the market was mini and so were the farmers) in our neighborhood, which is always a happening place on July 4th. The produce sold even better then my huge, gooey Rice Krispy Treats. The boys made bank and then there were fireworks. A fun day all around.
The hammock was everybody's favorite place to take a turn until it had to come down so Plantboy could put up laundry lines. Two weeks before vacation my dryer broke. Still waiting on our insurance company to finish dealing with the fix. After much hubbub and our vacation right in the middle of the whole process, we will be getting a new dryer. By the time the thing is ordered and here it could be October. *sigh* Another reason to be grateful for Indian Summer. And modern life.
A big part of the reason for when we took our vacation was for Plantboy's biennial family reunion. It is always some where different depending on who plans it. It seems to get better and better and we've done some really fun things over the past dozen years. This year's reunion was at a cabin in the Middle of Nowhere, smack dab between Monticello and Blanding. The seclusion and mountain view during the evening thunderstorms was just what this child-of-the-West needed in a vacation. We also spent a day a little puddle of a reservoir which we had all to ourselves. I had the best waterski run I've had in a decade. We also spent much time in the canoes and sunburn became my long-forgotten nemesis. The pain on my scalp reminded me of growing up in the days before sunscreen.
On our way back North, we stopped overnight in Moab. We discovered the relatively new public pool, which is very likely Moab's best kept secret. Next time you go, stay in a cheaper hotel with a lousy or non-existent pool and take the kids around the corner with your savings. Plan to stay a long time; it is that great. The next morning we climbed to Delicate Arch, which hike we didn't start early enough. Or take enough water. My face in these pics is as red as my shirt. Sunburn? Heat Exhaustion? Dehydration? Check. Check. Check. It took me until the next day to properly recover. Aren't the Jedi tough little fellas?
The biggest drawback with this vacation was how much time we were in the car. At one point I estimated that it was probably about 60 hours over three weeks. It wasn't just the long road trips either. Stuff in Utah just seems more spread out. My poor guys are used to being 15 minutes away from any where we want to go. The Youngling was especially batty. The others, with their books to ready, Harry Potter to listen to, and years under their belts, did much better. When I came back to Oregon I came on my own (Plantboy had already returned), and I was a little nervous, but the boys did admirably.
Because we didn't quite kill them off at Delicate Arch we hiked the Wind Caves in Logan two days later. I remember it being much easier. Of course, It was 15 years ago. In the fall. And at night. The reality is that distance-wise and elevation change-wise, this is a harder hike than Delicate Arch. Awesome. Notice the red face? I'm working on Sunburn on top of sunburn here. The Youngling and I just about didn't make it. Again, so glad we did. But I just need to remember something essential: Utah August is damn hot.
We rounded out the trip playing with cousins and a short trip to Bear Lake. In Bear Lake I paddle boarded for the first time and I really loved it. Bear Lake was breezy and kind of choppy that day, and I kind of have the itch to try the paddle board on the ocean. It was just so fun and such great exercise. And, if I do say so myself, I was pretty good at it. Of all the athletic skill that has totally eluded me, balance is one thing I have in spades.
When we came home Plantboy took Jedi Knight salmon fishing. They caught this bad boy who was quite delicious the next day for dinner. The rest was put in my freezer. I just heard from Plantboy, though, who is fishing again today. He is bringing home two more. Does anybody have a good recipe for fish tacos? We need to try something else.
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