The Fairy Tale

A long, long time ago, shortly before I experienced true hardship; my hubby and I looked at buying a new Toyota truck.
It was a fairy-tale existence for me. I had grown up in the midst of a terribly biased neighborhood, where women were considered worthless and men worked blue-collar jobs -when they worked at all. I had somehow gotten out of that. I married a computer geek who cherishes me. He had a closet full of white shirts to wear to his well-paying corporate job. We owned a house in my dream neighborhood. And for the first time in my life, I was going to be part owner of a brand new vehicle.
It was everything I had ever dreamed of.

We decided, way back in 1992; that we couldn't quite afford a new truck, but my hubby promised that someday
Someday we would buy a brand new Toyota, maybe even with 4 wheel drive.

Then he got laid off, home forclosed, daughter given up for adoption, yada yada yada. You've read it here before.

TODAY HIS PROMISE WAS FULFILLED. WE ARE CO-OWNERS OF A BRAND NEW TOYOTA 4WD TACOMA!

I'm going to go weep with joy now.

The Gay Marriage Debate Comes To St. Louis. Sort Of.

This morning, Fox2 News kept talking about a wedding that happened this weekend. The minister will attempt to file an affidavit of marriage today at the St. Louis County Courthouse.

Here's the interesting thing: The couple announced their intent to marry, applying for their marriage license when they returned from their honeymoon. They let the media know. Newspapers were spreading the story as far back as Wednesday. As a result, a handful of people showed in silent protest. There was no shouting. No one pointed fingers or threw rotten vegetables. St. Louis just isn't that kind of town. Our activists are lackadasical, at best. Something has to be a really big deal to bring out more than a handful of fruitcakes.
We've had more people protesting Bush, who shows up practically unannounced once a month; than people protesting a marriage they had time to prepare for. I think that says something.

I also think it says something when you can protest a wedding right in fromt of a church, but you can't protest the President anywhere around him. You must be in a designated protest area, sometimes as far as a quarter of a mile away. If you didn't follow the links to examples of this restriction of speech, at least read this one.

And speaking of protesting. I must protest my Cardinals Baseball team inviting Bush to the season opener.

Public Restroom Etiquette

The Squeaky Weasel started it. Her hubby added to it. I'd like to see this make the rounds, so I can read everyone's varying views on Bathroom Etiquette. Think of it as an educational experience.

Quote from the Weasel: "I am regularly offended by people's behavior in the restrooms here at work, and it occurs to me that perhaps (and I'll give them the benefit of the doubt) they are entirely ignorant of the psychological havoc they wreak. Allow me to elucidate. "

In addition to her suggestions, I have a few of my own.

1. There are a few things that should only be done in a private bathroom. If you absolutely must pop your zits, or swab the sweat from beneath your breasts while looking in the mirror; have the courtesey to wait until the restroom is empty. (Yes, I spend a lot of time at Busch Stadium)

2. Understand that we are all in a hurry to do our business and move on. We do not want to be held up by a group of women blocking the door. If you are going to exchange photographs, recipies or advice of any kind; please do so away from the door.

3. Do not lay out your makeup across 3 sinks. Do not fill a basin with your makeup while running water in a second basin, and for Gods sakes, wipe up the water you've splashed all over the counter. Does your bathroom at home look like this?

4. I agree with the Squeaky Weasel on the courtesey flush. Please, please don't flee from the stall as if your waste is going to get you -without even flushing once. I've noticed that the non-flushers are the same ones who refuse to wash their hands. They exit the stall and dash from the bathroom with their hands held up like they've just scrubbed for surgery. They do everything with their elbows, as if afraid to encounter other people's germs. They make such a big production of themselves, that their fleeing form fixes itself in your mind. Thanks for making sure I noticed you, ya dweeb.

One more thing. When I worked at the coffee house, one of my end of the night chores was to clean the bathrooms. There is a distinct difference between the ladies and mens rooms. The ladies room reeks of an assortment of perfumes, there are a scattering of paper towels around the trash can, and there is always foundation smeared on the sink.

The mens room smells like a litter box, the trashcan is virtually empty (no paper towels for me, thanks. I'm a MAN) and there is always urine on the floor and walls.

I like to think their aim is skewed because they're jittery from espresso.

What A Week

Dear Diary,
This week I stuffed toys and candy into little plastic eggs. I was not alone in this. Thankfully I had help. When we ran out of stuffings (but not eggs), the count was around 700. Yep. 700 plastic eggs crammed with stuff. For 28 children to seek, find, collect and tear into. It was mostly fun.
My sister sponsors the family Easter bash every year. Every year she spends a small fortune on toys and candy, gathers a few family members, and spends a weekend stuffing eggs. But this year, she was too busy, so she needed unsupervised egg-stuffers.

Day 1: I carried boxes and bags up from my sister's basement. She had been ordering nifty toys through Oriental Trading Co. and other mail order places -all year long. (gasp) I also helped unpack boxes and organize everything. The collection of goodies covered the 8 person dining table. Then we stuffed eggs.

Day 2: I stuffed eggs with my Mom and another family member. A third adult matched egg halves and laid them out for us. We shared space with a toddler who kept trying to grab candy off the table. I got to experience the Mother Of All Arguments too!
Ok, I know moving Grandma to a facility where she can step up to more advanced care when she needs to is a tender subject amongst the family members, but this argument was just plain ugly. I haven't seen my family fight like that since we were all living in the same house. It freaked me out, and I left. I know other families fight like that sometimes, but not my family.

Day 3: I was entrusted with the key to my sister's house, and went over all by myself to stuff eggs. Chasmyn came over to get some moving boxes and stayed to help. It was so fabulous of her, and totally unexpected. She really made a difference. The three of us filled eggs until we ran out of goodies. All that's left are a bunch of lollipops. Woot! We filled 200 eggs in about 2 hours; the same amount of eggs took 4 hours on fight day. We laughed, told stories and ate Chinese food. There was a great sense of accomplishment when we were done.

Although those 3 days were spaced out through the week, it was exhausting, in it's own way. I have a pattern that I'm used to following, and it was all interrupted this week. This morning, the frustration caught up with me. While washing dishes, I flung a coffee cup too hard into the sink. The cup broke, along with another cup and a china bowl. Dammit!
I broke my nifty spring green cup and the last of my Starry Night knock off cups. I'll never be able to replace that. They were made back in the early '90's, and the whole cup was covered with the swirls and spires that you see in Van Gogh's famous painting, but they weren't actual replicas. It was a knock off pattern, and I was very attached to it.
Oh well, maybe I'll replace it with Van Gogh's other starry night. The one with a canal reflecting starlight as the central theme. I think it's called "Starry Night on Waters" or something like that.

Something Worth Fleeing For

Go to Google News and type "Constitution Restoration Act of 2004". Gasp in astonishment. Start packing your bags.
There are identical bills in committee in both the House and Senate right now. Unfortunately, the dot gov site places links in a temporary file, so I can't link to them. But you can go to the very fine Yurica Report and dig them up, or go to The Library of Congress and do a keyword search.
I don't expect either of these bills to make it out of committee. As a whole, our Legislature is composed of a pretty decent bunch of men and women. These bills are beyond ridiculous. Even if they were passed, for some reason that I can't imagine; they would never survive the Supreme Court.
This bill is nothing more than a red herring designed to draw attention away from The Religious Freedom Restoration Act.
Last August, a version of the same thing was submitted to the Senate. It was titled The Religious Liberties Restoration Act.

Another interesting bill right now is the Religious Freedom Peace Tax Fund Act.

Sleep well, kiddies!

Strange night, strange morning

Last night, the very center of my forehead would not stop tingling. I was restless and scattered. This hasn't happened to me in a long time, so it took a bit for me to remember the last time I felt that way. Eventually, I was able to place it. It's the impending earthquake feeling. (sigh) I thought I'd gotten rid of that one for good. I mean I can't be going nuts whenever a fault line is nearing a breaking point, now can I?
I walled off my earthquake sense before my son was born, because the feeling affected me so badly. Yeah, when I was a teenager it was fun. I got to act all weird, point in the direction of the quake-to-be, estimate the distance, and wait for my friends to bring me proof the next day. It was something I used to make myself feel special.
But the thing is, there are earthquakes every day. I didn't key into all of them. I only pick up certain quakes. Usually ones that destroy property. It's a pretty useless gift. You can't warn anyone, they won't listen. You can't save people halfway around the world when the prescience comes 4-6 hours in advance. All you can do is stress.
So I blocked it off.

I started blocking it after the San Francisco earthquake in '89. That one was really bad for me. I spent the day edgy and irritable. I told myself it was PMS, even though I don't get PMS. By noon, I couldn't stop shaking. I wound up sitting on the kitchen floor, hugging my knees and rocking. My boyfriend was pretty worried about me. I kept trying to explain what was going on with me, but all I could say was, "Something is very wrong."
Here's the weird part. I went into the living room, figuring that If I was going to be a nutcase, at least I would be a nutcase in comfort. I mean, a linoleum floor isn't exactly the most comfortable place.
The stereo was tuned to K-SHE; and as I walked into the room, they began reporting the news. I stopped dead and listened. Some part of my brain said, "Pay attention to this." So I paid attention as the DJ said there had been a huge earthquake in San Francisco, with more than 6,000 dead. He talked about fires in the Marina, which was strange because a marina is on water and water doesn't burn. I asked my boyfriend if he'd heard what the DJ had just said. And my boyfriend said, "What? I didn't hear anything."
I tried to tell him about the earthquake, but the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I felt a little better, though. I had something to take my mind off of how I was freaking out. I had lots of time to wonder why my mind had thought I needed to pay attention to an unimportant news blurb about an earthquake. California gets quakes all the time. No big deal.
Mind you, this was 6 and a half hours before the actual quake hit. I still didn't know what was going on. That evening, I went with my mom to her girl scout meeting. I was supposed to help the girls make oil paintings on 8x10 canvasses. We listened to the radio as we drove to the meeting, and the DJ came on and told us about the earthquake in San Francisco. (The one that still hadn't happened yet)
I pointed at the radio and said, "You see! I told you so!"
Mom looked at me strangely and asked, "What are you talking about?"
I said, "The earthquake! They just said it again on the radio! No one believes me!" (not that I'd told anyone. It had seemed unimportant until I burst out that 'I told you so' at my mom.)
My gently said, "Nobody said anything. The radio is playing music." I was embarrassed, and decided to just keep my mouth shut.
When we got home at 7:20, we turned on the TV and saw the news. I quietly asked mom, "Is there really an earthquake on the TV?" and she said, "Yes. How did you know?"
Fortunately, I didn't have to answer. We held each other and cried as the TV showed flattened double-decker bridges, leaning houses, crushed cars, and yes -a burning marina.

That's the only time in my life that I've gotten my precog through the radio.

72 Cents

L had to stay in at lunch time. He had to take a make up test for Music class. Whenever kids have to stay in and do make up work, some of the other kids bring them lunch from the cafeteria. L gets $3 a day to buy lunch with.
He gave the day's designated lunch kid his $3, and a list of foods he would like to eat. The kid came back with no lunch and less money than he was given. Seventy-two cents less, to be specific.

L should have told a teacher, but he didn't. He should have raised a fuss, but he's 13; and doesn't get the importance of eating lunch, I guess. So when I picked him up from school, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He had the look that tells me he didn't eat very much for lunch.
I asked, "Are you hungry?"
He replied, "Yes!" The whole story came pouring out of him; how he had gotten no lunch, and the kid who was supposed to bring him lunch spent his lunch money, and how outraged he was at this.
Of course, I was outraged too. My son had no lunch! But when he told me about the 72 cents, I had to hold in laughter. I didn't think it was funny, per se'. The whole thing was just ridiculous, and my response was laughter. I wondered what that kid was thinking? I wondered how he had talked himself into a position where it was ok to spend someone else's lunch money, yet not bring food for the child he was supposed to buy food for?

The first think I did when we got home was feed my son. The second thing I did was call the school. I didn't want to get the kid in trouble. I didn't want to label him a thief. I wanted L to get his 72 cents back, and I wanted to make sure all the kids got their lunch at lunch time.
When I called the secretary and told her the story, she giggled too. At least I wasn't the only one who thought it was funny. We agreed that although it was funny, and a paltry 72 cents; it was still a big deal. I made it clear that I wasn't calling this child "bad". I wasn't angry at the kid. But it can't happen again. The secretary understood completely. The kid has repaid L. No harm, no foul. Except that L went without lunch. That part pisses me off.
To be fair, L is a very picky eater. I'll bet his lunch request was pretty short. It was probably something like this, "Ideally, I'd like chicken nuggets. If they don't have any, I want a hamburger -not a cheeseburger. And a big cookie. And a Capri Sun."
The kid said they didn't have any of the foods L wanted, and offered to share his chocolate milk with my son. See, he wasn't "bad", he was just a kid. If they didn't have anything L had asked for, maybe he didn't know what to bring.

Today's Embarassing Moment

So there I was, waiting in line as the checker scanned my groceries. I had noticed her bright orange hair, of course. You can't miss that color. But as I stood there, I thought, "What a lovely shade for a redhead." I looked at her pale, freckled skin. I observed her invisible eyebrows and lashes.
I looked at her hair again. Not one white hair in that glorious mass of orange-red. I looked at her face; trying to pin an age on her. Was she older than me, or younger?
Again my eyes were drawn to her hair. Nope, not white hairs. But her face said 40.

To my horror, I heard these words coming out of my mouth; "I know this is really inappropriate, but tell me that's your natural color! And if it's not," I rushed on, "then tell me what brand of dye you found, because that's my color!"
She gave me a steely look, and I babbled on; knowing I looked like a fool. Knowing that this checker could give a shit less about my whitening hair. I said, "Not that you look old, 'cause you don't. But I can't find a dye to cover my grey that matches my hair, and you have my color, and I was thinking that if you had found a dye to cover your grey, which you don't have... then I... might..."
She let me off the hook. She declared, "Nope, this is my natural color. And I don't have any grey." She gave me a falsely bright smile, and turned to the next customer.

I'm so ashamed.

Cooking Tip
The easiest way to de-fat the juice in a crock pot, is to pull all the meat out and pour the liquid through a strainer. Stick a paper towel in the strainer, put a bowl underneath, and pour away. The broth will go through the strainer, but most of the fat won't. If you let it sit for half an hour or so, the saturated fat will turn into nice, solid lard. Ewww. Pour the liquid broth back into the crock pot, add the meat, and let it finish cooking.
20 years, I've been using a crock pot; and I only just now figured that out.

Monday, Monday

What a day! You would think, since I sit at home doing nothing while L is at school, that I would be bored or something. Not so! This morning I dragged myself from a nice little dream about my old neighborhood; got dressed; woke L; schlepped downstairs to the dryer; got L's uniform; schlepped back up the stairs while running his belt through the belt loops of his uniform pants; traversed the clutter of toys in his bedroom, twice; signed all manner of paperwork for the school; briefly thought about coffee; drove L to school without murdering any of the legion of elderly drivers who were on the road with me; mastered the drive home -by thinking of coffee; made coffee; and kissed the Hubby-Man on his way to work.
Total elapsed time: 1 hour.

The next hour was spent removing fat from the organic beef ribs that I'd put in the crock pot last night, catching up on the news with CNN, reading e-mail, and drinking coffee.
Then I took a break. I played Roller Coaster Tycoon 2 for an hour or so. Just as I was thinking, "It's about time for the phone to start ringing..." The phone rang.
While on the phone, I made a batch of comfrey and shea butter, seasoned the now low-fat beef, took out the trash, polished some wood, and did a few dishes. I also paid the satellite bill, and tried to pay the credit cards online. No luck there; I can't remember the damn passwords. (sigh) So I got off the phone with my friend and called the credit card companies. They can't help, because Hubby's name is first on the cards. Which is only reasonable, seeing as how he's the one with a paycheck and all. So I called Hubby to ask him to remind me to remind him to call the credit card companies.
Now I'm taking some time to blog and have a cup O coffee. When I'm done I plan on taking a shower, doing a few more dishes, and clean some jewelry; before heading off to get L from school.

Don't tell me stay-home moms do nothing all day. I drink coffee all day, dammit!

A Disappointing Day For Technology

(sigh) The DARPA Grand Challenge began well, with most of the 15 autonomous vehicles making it over the start line... But then it all fell apart. All of the vehicles are now "disabled", none got farther than 7 miles. (sigh) I'm interested in knowing what happened with my favorites. Each of them had my support for a different reason. Phantasm is from a suburb of St. Louis. Of course I was rooting for the home team! They would have gotten my vote anyway, because they put all the companies who donated to the project right up on their front page. Unfortunately, Team Phantasm didn't make it through the qualifying rounds.
The Palos Verdes Road Warriors survived the qualifying rounds and headed off to the race, but traveled less than a mile before breaking down. They were the only high school team to even try for the DARPA prize; and I salute them for making it as far as they did.
TerraMax, by far the largest of the vehicles; stayed running the longest. But it didn't go very far.
I also had my fingers crossed for The Spirit of Kosrae, because Axion Racing has a great sense of humor. Oh, well.

DARPA is considering the challenge again in 2006. They spent 13 Million dollars setting the challenge up, but it should be cheaper next time because they won't have to build all the obstacles and markers and such.
So, 2 years from now I'll once again, be rooting for the geeks of the world. I'll be reading their websites, peeking at their pictures, and hoping for success.

God, Save Me From Your People!

The headline reads "House Passes Obesity Bill, Considers Broadcast Decency Legislation" I read the article, to assure myself that the House of Representatives hadn't somehow decided to make obesity illegal. With today's political situation, you never know. ;)

I assert that religious opinion has no place in politics, beyond the freedom to express that opinion. "N.J. Attorney General's Opinion Declares Gay Wedding Invalid"

For your edification, here are the results of a truly in-depth poll from the Washington Post.

And I wonder what this is really about? "Md. Woman Accused of Acting as Iraqi Agent"

Procrastination

I'm supposed to be cleaning. I need to clean the massage room and the kitchen. I need clean sheets for the massage table. I need to go to Chasmyn's house and pick up some stuff. Instead, I've spent the morning IMing someone. At least the laundry is getting done, since the laundry room is right near the computer.

So, although I wanted to post about salvia divinorum, and silly young people; I'll be getting off my butt and cleaning now.

Taking a Trip

While chatting with Chasmyn, she mentioned "salvia divinorum" was a popular new psychedelic. Like me, she knows a lot about things, without actually doing them. So I'm sitting there on the phone thinking, "salvia...salvia... what is that?" Then I remembered. Salvia is sage. I doubted my memory... it might be basil. I said, "Kids are smoking sage or basil to get high? *scoff*
She googled it and sent me a link.
Later on, I googled the URL and searched for pages that link to SageWisdom.org. Lo and behold; the Department Of Justice has a link to them! It's in a page about Drugs of Concern. Interesting...
So, of course, I had to go look at the other drugs of concern. I'm a mother of a 13 year old, I'd like to know what's floating around out there.
I couldn't find anything about mushrooms, though. I would think, that if they're concerned about a hallucinogenic member of the mint family; they would surely be concerned about a toxic fungus. Not finding what I was looking for, I looked elsewhere. I'm reading 5 different sites right now.
I also found a FAQ on codeine. That one is a big deal to me. When L was recovering from surgery, the hospital gave him Tylenol 3. He barfed all night. They decided he was probably allergic, and he did fine with just plain tylenol after that. However, I want to know everything I can about any opiates, so I can forewarn him -if he ever pulls the stupid teen trick of doing drugs. So today I learned some new things.
Tylenol 3 is: 30mg codeine, 30mg caffeine, and an unspecified dose of tylenol. I didn't know there was a tylenol 4. I'm not linking the site where I got the info, because it encourages the use of opiates for recreation. I'm not going to sully my blog with that. This part caught my attention, however: "Most codeine found in pharmaceutical products today is synthetically produced via the methylation of morphine." Methylation... as in dissolving morphine in methyl alcohol to extract it? Could my son have an allergy to methyl alcohol, or one of it's by-products? Better safe than sorry. I'll tell him he might be allergic to Meth, too. (snerk) Is that cruel?
I'm a child of the 80's. Everyone did drugs. Is it limiting for me to pray that my son never experiments with them? (Not that I really care if you think I'm mean) I believe in everything in moderation. I think occasional drug use won't do horrible damage, and you might just learn something. But I've seen what can happen with "recreational" drug use. People tend to make poor choices. -sigh- Just one more stress. :)
I was actually going somewhere different with this. Methinks I'll save it for another posting

Strange News

Children at a day care in Somerset, England found a 3-headed frog in their garden. It's weird looking.

Did you know Turkey has mines all around their borders? You do now.

And of course, any time I troll the news; I find fringe news on the diamond trade.

"Conflict diamonds originate primarily from Angola, Liberia, Sierra Leone and the Democratic Republic of Congo, countries in which rebels or factions - like the National Union for the Total Independence of Angola and the Revolutionary United Front - opposed to internationally recognized governments in those countries illegally mine and trade diamonds for billions of dollars, which fund military action against these legitimate governments. Conflict diamonds are also called "blood diamonds", a suitable name given that over the past decade an estimated 3 million people have died in these wars; women and children have been deliberately mutilated; millions more have been made homeless."

"And then there's the DeBeers cartel, set up in 1934, through which over 80 percent of diamonds worldwide are sold. It has dipped its hands into weapons, wars and warlords in order to amass a stockpile of about $4 billion in diamonds to restrict the world supply, and drive the price of diamonds to the sky.
Diamonds range from $3,000 per carat for tiny diamonds to $17,000 per carat for the big suckers. But these diamonds are really only worth about $30 a carat. For that reason, diamond imitations such as cubic zirconia have been created to meet the demand for inexpensive jewelry.
And of course, nothing says "I love you" like "I have been convinced by a multimillion dollar DeBeers marketing campaign to spend thousands of dollars on a symbolic rock that has been artificially inflated. But at least it's a real diamond, honey."

Please, dear gods, please don't buy blood diamonds.

Consider instead white sapphire, hard enough to cut glass. How about goshenite; as in "gosh, that's pretty!"? In the same family as emerald, this colorless beryl will glow on your finger. If you've always been a crystal lover, perhaps quartz is what you're looking for? And there's always moissanite for the trendy.
Not to mention the other beautiful gems out there... you know, the ones with color.

Bush's new slogan
So the Prez has found a slogan that he thinks will carry him through the next election.
It started with this: Don't Switch Horsemen Mid-Apocalypse
Which led me to this: "America! It's not just for heterosexuals any more...Okay. Actually it is..."
"If you're reading this, 9/11 wasn't so bad now, was it?"
"America: Where everyman is a Burger Structural Engineer ...now"
"Bush 2004:Less jobs! More free time to surf porn..."
"I lead. You follow. Why think?"
"It's morning in America...and only Jenna Bush is hungover"
"America: It's SuperHalliburtonExxonDOMAdocious!"
"Bush and Dick. The way God intended."
"A Jobless Recovery is like Waterless Rain"
Which turned into this, the best slogans Bush will never use.

Makes me all weepy

Well, it does! Portland is issuing same-sex marriage licenses!
Mayor Jason West, of New Paltz, N.Y., vowed to go ahead with same-sex weddings this weekend, despite being charged with 19 criminal counts and possibly facing jail time for marrying gay couples.
On Wednesday, Nyack, N.Y., Mayor John Shields said he would also start marrying gay couples and planned to seek a license himself to marry his same-sex partner.
Half a dozen gay couples were turned down for a marriage license in Detroit. Instead of licenses, they were offered copies of the state law that outlaws same-sex marriage.

CBS News online offers a nice interactive look at gay marriage, gay adoptions and hate crimes issues. There's a poll on the same page, but I couldn't get the poll results to pop up. Make sure you read the poll question carefully. The wording is kind of tricky.

The Best Of Me

I added a new section to my side bar. I now have links to various meditations I've written out here. I also have my favorite Bush rant. Since I'm coming up on my one year blogiversary, I decided to post my best quotes from this blog.

On the Hubby-Man
"Hubby Man calls for me to come quick... the snake is eating itself. I dash into the bedroom expecting... well I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe Sinbad the snake doing the oroboris circle thingy. Nope. The stupid snake had his mouth firmly clamped on his body, while the rest of him wrapped and squeezed himself."

"My hubby noticed ages ago that redheads tend to clump together. He expressed how beautiful it was to see 3 or 4 redheads together, lighting up a room and drawing all the attention. I laughed at him and told him we don't clump or cluster, we clot like blood."

"I thought about how nice is is that I have a talent for cooking, and from out of nowhere Hubby-Man says, "I'm glad that you are talented in bed, because we can always go out to a restaurant... But I do appreciate your cooking"."

On My Son
on the first day of school"This morning, he comes out of his room wearing a dirty school shirt! I don't know where he found it, but there it was, in all it's wrinkled glory hanging on his body. I almost laughed out loud. I said, "Where did you find that shirt?" He replied, "I guess I should have grabbed one of the ones hanging up?"

"Anyone with a 12 year old boy understands, and the rest don't need me to share."

"I stuck the coupon on the fridge along with all the other coupons I'll never use, and promptly forgot about it. L however, did not. Every day I asked, "What would you like for breakfast?" and he'd reply, "Krispy Kreme... You didn't buy them last night? Ok then, hashbrowns." This went on for 2 solid weeks. I'd pick him up from school; he'd ask for Krispy Kreme. I went grocery shopping; he asked for Krispy Kreme. I'm still thinking he will eat one or two donuts and be done with the Krispy Kreme thing, and we'll be stuck with 22 high-calorie rings of doom... I could not have been more wrong. We finally go buy the friggin' donuts. L eats one, I eat one, B eats one. Then we all eat another. L notices that the first dozen are halfway gone, and says, "There were 24 donuts, and 3 people. That makes 8 donuts each." We all agreed that 8 donuts were the max we'd eat, so that all would be in balance. This isn't normal behavior for L. He's usually quite generous, and if he mentally divides food, he does it by size. Thus I say: Krispy Kreme Doughnuts are not your average donut."

"A commercial came on, and L snagged a gingerbread man to eat. He started making loud licking noises, running his tongue up and down the gingerbread man's back. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes, and he started to giggle. I got a clear image in my head of SpongeBob SquarePants eating ice cream, and smiled. L really got into the SpongeBob mode then; wrapping his lips around the gingerbread head, slurping with a blank look on his face, the whole 9 yards."

"My bread was so bad...
How bad was it?
It was so bad, my son said, "You should throw the bread away, and burn the pan it was baked in, and salt the oven in which it was baked."


On The Prez.
"So last night my President delayed "Survivor" so he could say nothing in a genuinely artificial sincere way."

"Last night I got tired of being in despair. I refuse to give Bush that power over me for one second more. We as a people can survive this. We survived Mc Carthy, we survived others, we'll survive this. Better yet, we as a people can fight this. You know why? Because we can speak out without fear serious of reprisal. No one is going to knock on your door for the content of your blog. No one is going to amputate your tongue, or maim your family members because you don't like Bush.
If we live in fear Bush wins.
I will not fear an angry little man."

"I don't like George Bush. I don't like our predominantly Republican Congress. More accurately, I'm nearing a point of 'fight or flight' mentality. Other countries are looking good to me. I have awakened in the middle of the night from dreams of Bush getting re-elected. I've studied enough history to see how quickly a country can go from free to hell. All it takes is fear. Right now, Americans are afraid they will lose their jobs and be unable to find new ones. They're afraid their teenagers will be gunned down by a crazy student, teacher, sniper, or pack of ravenous wolves. They pray for the rapture to take them away. They would rather have the world end, than look at their fear.
At least, some of them would.
Some, but not all.
Some Americans face their fears, tackle them like the intruders they are. Some Americans write their congress people, sign petitions, protest, or just plain blog. There's a stealthy flow of information circulating the net, undermining the media; Thanks to an educated and inspired few."

"A few days ago, Bush came to St. Louis. Protesters were there, showing their objections to the change in overtime thing. Bush (supposedly) never knew they were there. Last year, Bush came to St. Louis. Protesters were there, showing their objections. Bush never saw them. I know he never saw them because they were kept on a side street a quarter of a mile away. This is happening all over the country!"

On The War
"What would 90 Million dollars, the amount spent on the war this year, buy?
Free lunch every day for every working American for a year. (bread, milk, carrot sticks, lunchmeat and an apple) or 1700 new hospitals. or 6300 new schools with internet access and 6 computers in each classroom. or900,000 city park renovations. or 1,800,000,000 hospital cafeteria meals for a couple. or 18,000,000,000 home cooked meals for a family of 3"

"The United States of America, winner of the Cold War and all around "good guy" needs to prepare for a new (old) problem. We are going to have battle-scarred, shell-shocked, embittered and disillusioned men and women returning to raise the children that their families have been caring for. There will be no place in society for them. There will be no jobs. There will be no help from the military that used them so poorly. And their children will suffer in silence."

"And here I was thinking that the National Guard was designed to guard our nation."

"Playground bullies engage in terrorism, as do drug dealers, militant groups, activist groups and entire governments. Why do we turn a blind eye to some of it, and bomb the snot out of people for other acts of terrorism? Why is it acceptable for a child to be abused at school (or home) by another child, yet unacceptable for a small group of people to blow up a bus? Why do we smile at Greenpeace, laugh at PETA, ignore the inner-city, and squash Afghanistan? Why do we need to add cute little prefixes to terrorism? If it's ecoterrorism, is it somehow more special than just regular terrorism?"


On Sept. 11th
"Elections were postponed, our borders were closed, all non military flights were grounded, no stocks were sold. Our country sent warships to protect the East coast, and make the ports less of a target. The President was still flying around in an empty sky, and average people dug through rubble looking for survivors, and looking for hope."

On Spaceflight
"There are moments in everyone's life that make us great.
Entering a burning building to save a life. Standing before a tank in a public square- and dying for it. Hugging a child, hugging an adult, hugging a stranger, touching another. Sending a living being off this planet and BRINGING HIM/HER HOME AGAIN; not once, not twice, but more than a thousand times! When did these things become cliche? These acts lift our heads from the muck and mire of our daily crap, and remind us that life covers the whole wide world!"

On Politics
"I have always thought of the idea of seeing the ten commandments outside a courthouse as being rather appropriate. Perhaps they can modify the existing monument to cover some of the major laws of our country, without imposing their religious beliefs...
THOU SHALL NOT STEAL
THOU SHALL NOT RAPE
THOU SHALL NOT LIE IN COURT
THOU SHALL NOT KILL
Gee, that covers the basics. They can stick HONOR THY MOTHER AND FATHER over at the Juvenile Courthouse; and while they're at it, Divorce court should get TREASURE THY CHILDREN ABOVE ALL WORLDLY POSSESSIONS and THOU SHALL NOT BICKER"

On The World
"Fulfillment comes with greeting the morning sun, feeling the breeze, listening as the world speaks with myriad voices, -whispering- I am!"

"Sometimes it's fun to roll around in your personal pile of trash. It's like visiting an old friend. It's comfortable, and when you climb out and brush yourself off, the world looks so beautiful!"

"I believe I have drawn enough chaos to me and my loved ones now. Thank you Universe for the crazy drivers, the heart palpitations, the stressed-out children, the near-miss with our bank account and the flooding of the downstairs bathroom. I really appreciate the heads-up you've sent me. I've gotten the message, and I hope you're done now, because we're getting the tree taken out this week, and I can see how that's a big opportunity for chaos."

"There is a tremendous thunderstorm outside right now. It sounds like the Gods are moving furniture across a hardwood floor."

"Cash is a great validation."

"I saw a goofy couple learning how to shop together. They didn't have the foggiest idea what they were supposed to buy for their household. It seemed like every aisle I went down, there they were -discussing the mathematics of food. It was amusing, and brought back memories of my first dozen shopping expeditions as a married woman. "I will eat X amount of this... B will eat X amount... is 2X greater or less than Y amount posted on the box?" The figuring then gets into the ratio of leftovers divided quality of taste, subtracting time as an exponential factor."

"I guess some people are attracted to the mundane."

about fairy tales "I thought dragons swiped princesses to teach them how to work. It would serve two purposes. The dragon gets it's scales cleaned, and the princess learns the value of work, growing up to be a good queen."


On Quinn
"I propose a toast to The Mighty Quinn, King of the Wild Things, lover of heavy machinery on wheels, and keeper of the mommy hair. Thank you for sharing your time here with so many."

Useless Gun Locks?

Most of my links are to liberals. I get all queasy when I read a string of pro-Bush blogs; so I don't usually link them, even when the writing is very, very good. One exception is The Smallest Minority. I love his standing offer to provide guns, ammunition, and the cost of using a range to anyone who has never fired a gun before. I avidly read news of the gun world on his blog. I enjoy every minute of it; especially the points I disagree on. But this is beyond ridiculous.

Ages ago, I bought a rifle. Shortly thereafter, I bought a gun lock. I wore the key on a cord around my neck. I carried the spare on my keyring. When my hubby bought his rifle, (a beautiful Enfield .303 bolt action sniper rifle) we immediately locked it. Perhaps, if we never had a child in the house -even as a guest- we might consider doing away with the locks. But really... If you have the time to get to your gun, switch off the safety, make sure there's a round in the chamber, and aim; then you can spare a few seconds to remove the lock. Otherwise, you may as well use it as a club.
I have a rifle for just in case. Just in case I need to hunt for food. Just in case the country falls apart. Just in case a crowd of rioters breaks into my home. In any of these instances, I'll have plenty of time to get that lock off my gun. If someone breaks into my home in the middle of the night, and I actually wake up; I'm more likely to hit the 911 button on the security monitor.

It would be foolish to have a child and a gun in the house, without the extra precaution of a gun lock. I'm proud to say that my son has never played with either of the two rifles in the house. He's never played with the collection of swords and knives. We taught him well. He understands the purpose of weapons, and he understands that they are not "cool".
Perhaps we taught him too well. He's 13, and he's still afraid to fire my rifle. I would like him to get comfortable with it. I would like him to practice. I would like for him to feel that rush of power, then put that feeling aside; so that he understands all the aspects of weapon ownership. And I let him proceed at his own pace. I will not force him to handle a weapon; but when he does, I want to be right there -teaching the difference between Hollywood and reality.