On the twelfth day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
twelve covens chanting
eleven heavy cauldrons
ten brooms for sweeping
nine books of shadows
eight pounds of amber
seven chakra candles
six crescent cookies
five silver rings
four corner callers
three quartz points
two black cats
and a pentacle to hang on my tree

On the eighth day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
eight pounds of amber
seven chakra candles
six crescent cookies
five silver rings
four corner callers
three quartz points
two black cats
and a pentacle to hang on my tree

Yaargh!
.
I'm on vacation. When you're on vacation, you're supposed to be allowed to sleep in, dammit. So why do people keep calling me?
Today, it was my mom. She wanted to talk about the weather.
Grrrrr.

On the seventh day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
seven chakra candles
six crescent cookies
five silver rings
four corner callers
three quartz points
two black cats
and a pentacle to hang on my tree

On the sixth day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
six crescent cookies
five silver rings
four corner callers
three quartz points
two black cats
and a pentacle to hang on my tree

On the fifth day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
five silver rings
four corner callers
three quartz points
two black cats
and a pentacle to hang on my tree

On the fourth day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
Four corner callers
three quartz points
two black cats
and a pentacle to hang on my tree

On the third day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
Three quartz points
two black cats
and a pentacle to hang on my tree

On the second day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
Two black cats
and a pentacle to hang on my tree

On the first day of Winter, a Pagan sent to me...
A pentacle to hang on my tree.

Appliances

.
This morning on the radio, the DJ's were talking about Christmas gifts, and how you should never give a woman an appliance.

Maybe I'm just a more down-to-earth woman, but I *like* the things that plug in that my hubby has given me over the years. He's gifted me with 3 different kinds of coffee makers. Now I can have good coffee at home, good coffee while I'm camping, and espresso wherever there's a heat source.
I've gotten tools to work on my car, a grinder for polishing metal, and a hand made potter's wheel. All of those gifts brought me joy. So bring on the appliances!
I'd really like a food processor :D

Can We Impeach Him Now?
.
From Capitol Hill Blue:
Bush on the Constitution: 'It's just a goddamned piece of paper'
(I copied the entire article to keep everything in context. Lots more great stuff on their site http://www.capitolhillblue.com/)
By DOUG THOMPSON
Dec 9, 2005, 07:53

Last month, Republican Congressional leaders filed into the Oval Office to meet with President George W. Bush and talk about renewing the controversial USA Patriot Act.

Several provisions of the act, passed in the shell shocked period immediately following the 9/11 terrorist attacks, caused enough anger that liberal groups like the American Civil Liberties Union had joined forces with prominent conservatives like Phyllis Schlafly and Bob Barr to oppose renewal.

GOP leaders told Bush that his hardcore push to renew the more onerous provisions of the act could further alienate conservatives still mad at the President from his botched attempt to nominate White House Counsel Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court.

“I don’t give a goddamn,” Bush retorted. “I’m the President and the Commander-in-Chief. Do it my way.”

“Mr. President,” one aide in the meeting said. “There is a valid case that the provisions in this law undermine the Constitution.”

“Stop throwing the Constitution in my face,” Bush screamed back. “It’s just a goddamned piece of paper!”

I’ve talked to three people present for the meeting that day and they all confirm that the President of the United States called the Constitution “a goddamned piece of paper.”

And, to the Bush Administration, the Constitution of the United States is little more than toilet paper stained from all the shit that this group of power-mad despots have dumped on the freedoms that “goddamned piece of paper” used to guarantee.

Attorney General Alberto Gonzales, while still White House counsel, wrote that the “Constitution is an outdated document.”

Put aside, for a moment, political affiliation or personal beliefs. It doesn’t matter if you are a Democrat, Republican or Independent. It doesn’t matter if you support the invasion or Iraq or not. Despite our differences, the Constitution has stood for two centuries as the defining document of our government, the final source to determine – in the end – if something is legal or right.

Every federal official – including the President – who takes an oath of office swears to “uphold and defend the Constitution of the United States."

Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia says he cringes when someone calls the Constitution a “living document.”

“"Oh, how I hate the phrase we have—a 'living document,’” Scalia says. “We now have a Constitution that means whatever we want it to mean. The Constitution is not a living organism, for Pete's sake.”

As a judge, Scalia says, “I don't have to prove that the Constitution is perfect; I just have to prove that it's better than anything else.”

President Bush has proposed seven amendments to the Constitution over the last five years, including a controversial amendment to define marriage as a “union between a man and woman.” Members of Congress have proposed some 11,000 amendments over the last decade, ranging from repeal of the right to bear arms to a Constitutional ban on abortion.

Scalia says the danger of tinkering with the Constitution comes from a loss of rights.

“We can take away rights just as we can grant new ones,” Scalia warns. “Don't think that it's a one-way street.”

And don’t buy the White House hype that the USA Patriot Act is a necessary tool to fight terrorism. It is a dangerous law that infringes on the rights of every American citizen and, as one brave aide told President Bush, something that undermines the Constitution of the United States.

But why should Bush care? After all, the Constitution is just “a goddamned piece of paper.”

© Copyright 2005 by Capitol Hill Blue

Once Again, American Media Ignores News
.
There's a beach in Australia... well, ok... there are a lot of beaches all around the edges of Australia, but there's a specific beach that's been having a gang problem.
Groups of young men of (apparantly) Middle Eastern descent have been terrorising the lifeguards and beachgoers for a couple of years. Last Sunday, it escalated to the beating of some lifeguards.

Caucasion Australians responded by converging on the beach this Sunday to protest. After a day of drinking, the protesters went in search of brown-skinned people to beat up. It became a full scale riot. That night, the Middle Easterners retaliated.

And the US news chooses to talk about whether Arnold Schwartzinegger will commute a death sentence or not.

Knitting and Snow and Random Geekiness
...
KNITTING
I'm knitting a scarf for my sister's birthday and it's almost done!
I have a cousin who's the same age as my son. He lives 2 houses away, so he comes over fairly regularly to play video games etc. Poor kid was born on September 11, back when it was just another day.
Anyway, I was knitting along, and he asked me if it was hard to do. I said, "Not at all. Knitting is really easy." *pause* "Would you like me to teach you?"
I grabbed some yarn and freed up a pair of needles, cast on 13 stitches and knit 2 rows, then I handed the needles to my cousin. The kid is a natural. I let him have a pair of needles and some blue acrylic yarn to play with. It was really cool, teaching a 14 year old boy to knit.

...
SNOW
We had our first real snowfall yesterday. It snowed for 6 hours. It was beautiful.
When I picked L up from school, there were cars all over the sides of the road. It seems like everybody was spinning out. I saw several cars that just baffled me. There was one halfway up a hill, facing the highway. It was snow free, and there were not noticeable tire tracks. It was as if it had fallen from the sky.
Another was sitting over a ditch, resting on it's bumpers. It made a little car-bridge over the ditch with it's back bumper on the highway side, and it's front bumper on the onramp side. None of it's tires touched the ground. It had spun out counterclockwise, sweeping an arc in the snow, and coming to rest as a perfect bridge. There was a towtruck on the scene, and a very puzzled looking towtruck driver. I'm puzzled too. I mean, how fast does a car have to be spinning to wedge itself across a ditch? I swear, the thing was level.

...
GEEK
My husband has a computer monitor showing a live feed of Busch Stadium. Or I should say: the pile of rubble that was once Busch Stadium, and the beginnings of the new Busch Stadium.

The Matrix
.
So, L finally watched The Matrix; and toward the end... when the phone is ringing, and Neo opens the door to find an Agent between him and the phone...

My son asks, "What happens if an Agent answers the phone?"

.

.

How come I never wondered that?

Finished!
.

I finally finished my furniture painting project for the CBC auction. And I forgot to take a picture before I dropped it off. :(
Oh well.

So anyway, among the other fabulous things to bid on, there's now a desk/table from the old school with the Lasallian crest on it. I think it's nice... But (in typical artist fashion) I think it could have been better.

Maybe I'll like it better after my period ends. ;)

Single Needles And The Craft Bonanza
.
I got a call 2 weeks ago from Amy. A friend of her mother's had passed away, leaving behind a lot of craft items. So much so, that it took 3 separate days to sort it all. The result was 7 boxes of yarn, enough books to press a witch*, 1 box of embroidery floss and hoops, 2 boxes of plastic canvas, 2 boxes of sewing patterns, a box of notions, 6 boxes of fabric, and an assortment of other crafty things. Plus knitting needles and crochet hooks.

Which reminds me. My cats have been stealing my knitting needles again. I'll have to pull out the sofa and search underneath. :D

__________
*Death by pressing involved sandwiching a person between 2 boards and then progressively placing rocks on the top board until the person suffocated. It was a method of torturing and eventually killing "witches".

I was mean today.
.
First I blocked a car from passing me on the right, and then I yelled at my son. It doesn't matter that I was right, it was mean spirited. I feel guilty.

The car was behind me and we were both going over the speed limit in the Mason Road exit lane. When the driver cut over into the lane that was ending in an 8th of a mile to pass me, I straddled both lanes. Because it's rude. Then I noticed his CBC parking tag. So I kept a student from getting to school 10 seconds before me.

Then, when we got to school, I saw that everyone was wearing a tie. L was wearing a short sleeved shirt. And I got mad. Because I had asked him several times this month when Mass day was. So that I could make sure he had a clean shirt and tie. And I was caught unprepared. And I yelled about it.

See?
I was mean today.

Curious Deaths
.
A few days ago,(In the St. Louis Metro area) a 16 yr. old girl died on a schoolbus. The preliminary coroner report says she died from an undiagnosed congenitive heart defect. Less then two weeks ago, a 3rd grader dropped dead at her desk. She also lived in the Metro area. Her death was from an undiagnosed heart defect. Both girls were "fine" the day before. This bothers me a great deal, and I wonder if there isn't something more going on here. I have a minor heart defect, myself; and I live in an area where 2 people have died in 2 weeks. Just suddenly died. No warning. Within two weeks of each other.

(sigh)

eBay, Baby!
.
They're (eventually) building new houses across the street, which means there's a mountain of dirt over there right now. The kind of mountain of dirt that you just have to climb... So one day, after a rainstorm, my son wanted to go "play on the hill". It was a bit chilly outside so I told him he needed to wear pants, not shorts.
He came out of his room wearing a pair of sweatpants that might as well have been shorts. (he grew 4 inches in 4 months) I told him there was no way he was walking out of the house in those...things. I went into my room and pulled out my precious 501 jeans. The ones I bought before he was born. The ones I can finally fit into again. And I handed them over saving, "These'll be a bit big, but they're perfect for playing on the hill."
He grudgingly put them on, and I was instantly jealous. Because those mens 501 buttonfly jeans looked good on me, but they looked great on him. (sigh) He went off to play and came back muddy and cheerful. My jeans had survived their first outing on a male body.

Now, of course my jeans went straight into the wash to get the mud off. The second the dryer stopped spinning, my dear son swiped them and put them back on. Um, no. Those would be my Levis. Not his. MINE.

Enter eBay. I just bid on a pair of mens straight legged 501's, for... $2.50.
Yeah, buddy!

Temporarily Down
.
My online storefront is temporarily down while I do a major overhaul of the site. You can still order products via email. shea (at) bitparts (dot) org.

Shea Butter 4 oz $3.00
Shea Butter with Comfrey and Lavender 4 oz $3.75
Migraine Miracle 1 oz $2.50
Comfrey Oil 3 oz $3.00
Sampler Pack (1 of each) $10

Thank you.

Things You Might Not Know About CBC High School
.
If you live in St. Louis, you're probably aware of CBC High School. You might think of it as "That school for West County boys", or something equally exclusionary. You also might think that (like the other Catholic schools in St. Louis) it's a singular, exclusive school. I know I did. I was wrong.

You might know that CBCHS is 155 years old, but did you know that the Brothers of the Christian Schools began making a difference in people's lives more than 320 years ago?

Did you know that their mission is, and always has been, to give a human and Christian education to the young, especially the poor?

Did you know they teach over 900,000 students in 80 countries?

I knew the La Sallian Brothers had more than one school, but I didn't realize how many there were until L started putting his leftover lunch money in a collection box for some of their other schools. (I'm so proud)

I know L loves CBC, yet that simple act of giving some lunch money shows me just how much he values it. You see, our budget has been very, very tight since we started paying L's tuition. Even with the generous help from my In-Laws, it's been tight. We rarely rent movies or eat out anymore. We eat a lot of chicken and ramen noodles or homemade mashed potatoes. :D
We're not giving anything but stocking stuffers to each other for Christmas. My mom is bringing the Thanksgiving turkey, because it's just not in our budget. None of this makes me sad. In a weird way, it makes me happy. Oh, I don't like bouncing checks -don't get me wrong... But seeing my son accept these financial sacrifices and understand them with maturity, and be willing to give (literally) his last few coins to help educate someone else... (sniff) It moves me.

Religious Quote of the Year (IMHO)
.
I was reading The Zero Boss, one of those fabulous bloggers whom I haven't had time to read as often as I'd like... I was reading and found this:

(for those who are actually serious about a Pagan religious path): Don't pay any attention to spells or magick until you've developed a deep spiritual connection with the Deity Who calls to you. Religion is first and foremost about the bliss that flows from understanding the world and your place in it. It is not about wishing yourself an extra hundred bucks when money's tight. Stop treating the Goddess like a McDonald's drive-thru window.

You can read the entry that includes this brilliant suggestion here.

From my experiences, most people who discover Pagan religions start with discovering "magic". Maybe they're looking for a sense of control over their lives? Maybe they're looking for an easy way through life?

Life is easy. We are the ones who make it hard.

Uh-oh. Mom's in a Cookin' Mood
.
I stopped off at the store to buy some coffee. So I could have coffee after I blog. Like a post-blog treat, only every day. Anyway, I went in to buy coffee... and maybe something for dinner... and nothing else.
I walked out with pie crust mix, sugar, flour, butter, sweetened condensed milk, and ricotta cheese. (and the things I'd planned to buy) I just couldn't pass up the ricotta cheese. It's been ages since I've had cannoli. The hubby-man and son think it's disgusting. I think there are few confections that rival sweetened cheese stuffed into a crispy shell.

Cannoli was a special treat when I was growing up, because none of the local bakeries made it. We would have to take city busses to get to a neighborhood that sold cannoli. The trip took over an hour each way. But it was worth it. Oh, was it worth it!

Roadkill
.
Did you know there are deer in West St. Louis County? Yep. I've seen 6 since I've been driving the 22 miles to L's school every day. The first two were on a flatbed trailer (and headless, ew.) But the last four were roadkill. And it pisses me off. To see those beautiful pelts all mangled and made useless, not to mention the waste of meat. Just one deer would provide protein for my family for months!

I suppose I should feel bad for the people who hit the deer. I'm sure their cars were messed up pretty badly and all. But... seeing 120 lbs of meat discarded on the side of the road... Arrrgh! It's an affront, I tell you.

On a side note: I've never gone hunting, but I've eaten wild game. All of it was a gift. I thank the spirits of the animals that fed me. Heh, I remember getting in trouble once when I was a kid for thanking the spirit of the deer that was in the stew I was eating. Apparently you aren't supposed to acknowledge death at the dinner table. :D
I still think it was the right thing to do. I also thanked my uncle for killing the deer so we could eat it. Then I asked him what he did with the bones. That kind of dried up the conversation.

Commenter Triggers Rant
.
'Thought & Humor' left me a comment. Wasn't that nice of him. I decided to copy it right up front here, because words this flowery shouldn't be delegated to a mere comment. I added brief definitions for some of his words, from the Merriam webster online dictionary, in parentheses.

"You have a riveting web log
and undoubtedly must have
atypical(not typical : irregular, unusual)& quiescent(marked by inactivity or repose : tranquilly at rest)
potential for your intended readership.
May I suggest that you do
everything in your power to
honor your encyclopedic (comprehensive)/omniscient (all-knowing)
Designer/Architect as well
as your revering (to show devoted deferential honor to)
audience. As soon as we acknowledge
this Supreme Designer/Architect,
Who has erected the beauteous (beautiful)
fabric of the universe, our minds
must necessarily be ravished (a : to seize and take away by violence b : to overcome with emotion c:rape )
with wonder at this infinite goodness,
wisdom and power.

Please remember to never
restrict anyone's opportunities
for ascertaining (1 archaic : to make certain, exact, or precise
2 : to find out or learn with certainty)
uninterrupted existence for their quintessence (1 : the fifth and highest element in ancient and medieval philosophy that permeates all nature and is the substance composing the celestial bodies
2 : the essence of a thing in its purest and most concentrated form).

Best wishes for continued ascendancy (governing or controlling influence : domination) ,
Dr. Howdy
'Thought & Humor' "

So, what he said was... The Flying Spaghetti Monster at the top of your page grabbed my attention. I think your readers see you as weird and inactive. (Um, what?) I think you should give whatever created life, the Universe, and everything at least as much respect as you give to the people who bow and scrape show devoted deferential honor to your writing. As soon as you acknowledge God, He'll rape your mind with the beauty of what He has created... It's a cause and effect thing. Please don't delete my attempt to convert you and all your (12) readers. If you delete this, it might prevent someone from continuing to know that they are perfection. (Would you like a side of fries to go with the guilt I've just handed you?) I hope you continue to govern, influence and dominate your readers.
Dr. Howdy.

Dr. Howdy... You need a dictionary. Thanks for enlightening my day and ravishing my blog with your beauteous words of wonder.

And On A Political Note...
.
I'm tickled pink that the Democrats "forced" a closed Senate session. It's well past time for our Senators to stand up for the people they represent.

Life Altering Cookie Alert
.
Seriously. Don't ever buy Hershey's Cookies. Well, you can buy them... just don't ever eat one.

Yeah, I like that idea. Buy the cookies, look at the pretty box, wonder if they're as good as I say they are... Muahaha.

Think of Girl Scout Cookies. Make them even better. Put them in stores year round.
That's Hershey's cookies.

We bought a box of Reese's Milk Chocolate Dipped Cookies (with peanut butter!)
*note* As I was typing, the Hubby-Man said "My only problem with those (cookies) is the same problem I have with Tagalongs. (the GS cookies which are similar but inferior to the Reese's cookies)... There are too few in the box."

Anyway, we bought the cookies last night. They're all gone now. I'm afraid to buy more. Assuming we each ate 9 cookies, we took in 675 bonus calories in 24 hours.

Boy they were good!

Happy Halloween, Everyone!
.
I received this image in a piece of spam, and thought I'd share the scare...

Talk About Last Minute...
.
Friday 2:50 pm CDT, my son says, "Um... Halloween is Monday. I don't have a costume."
"Right, we talked about this. " I'm thinking but not saying. "It was part of a discussion about finances, age, and a lack of viable trick or treating areas."

My son continued, "I was thinking of re-using some costume parts and going as Malcolm Reynolds."

So. The Gambit coat still mostly fits, because we gave it extra room for the body armour to fit underneath. The sleeves are several inches too short, but I have leftover fabric to sew on some "cuffs" to compensate. I believe this is why people trick-or-treat after dark. Costume flaws don't show up much.
We've scavanged up a shirt that just might work. I'm scanning the internet for close-ups of Mal's coat collar, because it's a lot smaller than Gambit's collar. Thank the gods we still have the holster from last years Han Solo Costume. We have a few toy guns; and if I get time, I'll make a few grenades or a bandolier or something. That way, if people ask "Who's Malcolm Reynolds?" L can answer a character from the movie Serenity... He's heavily armed... gimmie candy.
LOL.

What, Exactly, Were You Looking For?
.
Yeesh. I just checked my Sitemeter. Here are a few of the jewels I've been hit with this past week:

Query: how does a target of psychic vampire attacks get a strong internal system
Reply: You should picture yourself lifting weights, but make the weights giant bulbs of garlic.

Query: pyrrolizidine alkaloids blogspot
Reply: Thank you for your blogspot-only search. It led me to many comfrey lovers, and showed just how much research some bloggers put into their writing.

Query: On the Sims Unleashed my meter bars are both filled to 100 so how do I get married?
Reply: You wait until the "propose" option appears, and click that. *note* Proper capitalization and punctuation earns you bonus points.

Query: "Make a Gambit costume"
Reply: I think I wrote out the directions last month, or something. Interestingly enough, I get hits to look at the picture of L's Han Solo costume; but nobody wants to know how to make one themselves. Gambit took a lot more work.

Query: recessive ginger gene
Reply: Exists in cats, posibly dogs... not people. In people it's at least 1 and as many as 6 variations in the melanocortin-1 receptor gene. Also known as MC1R. Despite internet speculation, persons with these functional variations are not half-aliens, the spawn of fallen angels, witches, cursed, more sexually active than others, or a separate "race" from homo sapiens sapiens. They're just people.
And there is no redhead scolarship. If there was, I'd have used it.

Homecoming
.
Eep. L has a date for the homecoming dance. She said yes. It's his first date ever.

Homecoming dinner and dance- $40
Long stem rose- $3
Gas- $12

Your son on a first date- SPEECHLESS.

*edit*
Ok, it's not a date, date. It's more of a date-like thing. L has been friends with this girl since she was in kindergarden. Just recently he realized that not only is she his friend, but she's an attractive female too. Bonus!
So here's someone he already knows he gets along with, someone he can have fun with, someone his own height... a perfect choice for his first school dance.
Will they dance? I doubt it. It's more likely that they will sit at a table with his classmates, eat a lot of buffet food, and go home.
Her dad would like to come along as a chaperone. I think that's a great idea. I haven't been able to reach anyone at the school to ask if it's ok, but I can't imagine it being a problem.

Well...
.
That sucked. After Pujols's beautiful homerun 2 days ago, the Astros kicked our butts. On our own turf, even. How could we lose so badly to a team that ended the regular season ELEVEN WHOLE GAMES behind us?!? Gah.

I'll be rooting for the White Sox.

Wool
.
Let me tell you about wool. Lovely, lovely wool. I finally bought a skein of Lion Brand Fisherman's Wool to play with. I got it home and began knitting up a test swatch. It's soft and springy and knits so much easier than acrylic yarn. Just casting on was a pleasure. Then my cat came along. Hunter is a sniffer. He has to sniff every single thing that comes into the house. He sniffed the yarn trailing from my needle, then he sniffed all along the needle, then he sniffed the yarn going into the skein. He was lovin' the sniffin', I tell ya! When he got to the skein itself, he buried his kitty face in the yarn. Then he bit it and tried to run away with my brand new wool. I swear he was thinking, "Yeah, this here is MINE."

I cried out, "Hey!" and he dropped the skein and took off. I'm a good cat mommy. I knit him up a mouse and let him go to town. His sister came up, sniffed the mouse, and stole it fom him. Hilarity ensued.
When I'm not knitting the new wool, it stays in a ziploc bag. I hope that keeps the kitties out of it.

Names
.
I make up names for everything I encounter in physical therapy. There are names, of course, for the exercises and treatments... Like "ultrasound hurty-thing" and "flying saucer" (a device that's a disk mounted on half a sphere)Today I got a new one. The pillow. Um, ouch. The pillow looks at first like a blue, textured freeweight, minus the hole in the middle. But it's squishy and filled with air. It stretches the whole bottom of my foot and I have to work all kinds of small muscles to keep my balance. I tried to do the pillow one-footed. I really, really tried. And I'm not quite there yet. (sigh)

Anyway, I really wanted to talk about the other patients I meet at PT. I have names for them, too. There's Muscular Stretchy Guy. He's an athlete recovering from a shoulder injury. He does a lot of stretches. The Pink Lady does a lot of leg exercises. Some days she's the Yellow Lady. She has 2 identical sets of workout clothes. Identical except for the color. So her name changes according to which outfit she wears.
One day, I shared space with a woman who had a 2 foot scar running from her thigh to her shin. I dubbed her Major Surgery, but there's a new Major Surgery now. I met him today. He's had 2 back surgeries and has lost a lot of sensation in his extremities. It's weird to see a physically fit man struggle to lift a 3 lb. weight. For you Canadians, that's about 1 and a half kilograms.
I also met Coma Boy today, AKA I've Been Shot, "The doctor says I'm lucky I didn't lose my leg", and Mr. I Can't. I think I'm going to stick with Coma Boy. It seems nicer than Mr. I Can't. He was a little bit miffed about having to share his PT with me and Major Surgery. I didn't mind. It gave us all a chance to talk. Coma Boy wishes he could see more progress. I'm thinking that if you're missing half your calf, there are certain things you just won't be able to do. You have to learn new ways to do them, and that takes a lot of time. Our PT got on him for not doing his exercises frequently enough. Believe me, it's easy to let those exercises slide. However, the PT always knows when you've been slacking. She busted me on it last visit. She knew just the right button to push, too. She noted that my calf muscle was smaller. Grrrr.
So today I was proud to say, "I've been a good girl this weekend. I did my "lifts" several times a day." Jodie (my PT) said, "Hear that?" to Coma Boy, "SEVERAL TIMES a DAY. Not several times a month." Apparently that was the thing that might push his button. I didn't mind.

Serenity
.
The movie Serenity is one of the few flicks that I enjoyed *more* the second time.

General Zod For President

Panopticon; people taking pictures of video surveillance cameras.

Print out a religious tract. Spread the word. That way, when the world ends, you'll be first in line. Muahaha.

Or, if you really want to scare people, hand out the real thing. (I'm not making fun of Christians. Really. I'm making fun of hate and fear.)

And let's not forget the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Click the link and be touched by His Noodly Appendage. Ramen!

Stupid
.
The stereotype is that redheads have a temper. What isn't talked about or assumed is the consequences of said temper. So when the spice rack came loose and spilled it's contents across the stove, I had a little temper tantrum. Which resulted in broken glass on the floor. Which I stepped on. With my right foot.

No, it's not deja vu. It's a tiny little cut. Yes, I still walk around my home in bare feet. No, I will never learn.

I expect my physical therapist will laugh at me tomorrow.

DARPA Grand Challenge
.
I haven't watched any news since Thursday, so I completely missed the DARPA Grand Challenge. (sigh) As of this posting, 4 vehicles have run the entire course and TerraMax is still on the move. TerraMax was one of my favorites from last year.
Another favorite of mine is the team from Palos Verdes High School. Because I don't think colleges and businesses should have all the fun. Unfortunately, their vehicle -the Doom Buggy- hit a parked car on Friday during a trial run, and didn't make it to the Grand Challenge. It's a shame, too. I wanted to see the highschoolers win.
The Spirit Of Christianity made it to the national qualifying event, but didn't go on to the Challenge itself. At first, I wondered what possessed a bunch of Christians to create a machine of war. I mean, the whole purpose of the DARPA Grand Challenge is to forward the technology on unmanned vehicles. It's sponsored by the Department of Defense. It's so that we can go wage war without risking the lives of American soldiers. Yet, war includes death. I thought Christians are pro-life...
Anyway, when I got to their website, I simply enjoyed all their lovely pictures. I guess geeks come in all religions. Shame on me for my bias. :(

About the winners:
GrayBot began it's life as a Ford Escape hybrid SUV and finished the course in 10 hours, 18 minutes.

H1ghlander left the factory in 1999 as a diesel powered Hummer. It ran the course in 10 hours and 4 minutes.

Sandstorm completed the course in just under 10 hours, coming very close to winning the two million dollar prize. Which just goes to show that a HMMWV from 1986 can still get the job done. Now if they could make one that runs on something other than gasoline...

And the winner is... Stanley! This diesel powered VW Touareg ran the entire 132 miles in 9 hours and 56 minutes. Kudos to Stanford's School of Engineering for their hard work and successful run!

No Kidding
.
There I was, driving down the highway, when this large yellow truck pulled in front of me. I caught a flash of something shiny and thought, "What the hell?"
Then I started laughing.
These things were swinging beneath the truck.

I'm not sure why the owner opted for silver. I would have gotten brass, myself. I mean, after all; if I want to make a statement about the toughness of my vehicle, I'd opt for balls of solid brass.

The Wait Is Over!
And the prognosis is good.

What happened was, my stepfather-in-law (henceforth called SFIL) has been feeling tired for a while. He weighs himself every day and has maintained the same weight for decades. He lost 6 pounds in 3 days. So he went to the doctor. A CT scan showed a mass in his abdomen, about 11 cm long, 11 cm deep and 2 1/2 cm high. That's a good sized tumor. They removed it today along with his spleen, an adrenal gland and part of his pancreas. It does not appear to have metastisized. His prognosis is very, very good.

I'm so relieved!

Waiting Is Hard
.
I got some news last night that a family member probably has cancer. We won't know how bad it is until after surgery on Monday. There's so much I want to say, and so much I don't want to say publicly. I love this person. I don't want them to suffer. I don't want them to die. And waiting for Monday is hard.

The Rosy Fingered Dawn Crept Noticeably Upward, Burning Holes In The Morning Fog.

Got out of bed, looked out the front window an saw the barest touch of sunrise. The river was wearing a thick blanket of fog. I stood and watched for a few minutes as the sky lightened. The sun turned a few fluffy clouds a rosy color, and the top of the fog began to strip away.

That's when the hideous title for this blog entry popped into my head. (sigh)
It was so awful, I just had to share.

It Was A Hurricane, What Did You Expect?
.
Scavenged from various news articles and mashed together here for your reading pleasure.

WOODVILLE, Texas - Five days after Hurricane Rita came ashore, conditions remained primitive in parts of Texas, where some residents were taking baths and brushing their teeth using water from the Neches River and others were sleeping in tents.

The plywood sign outside the home in East Texas where eight Beaumont families had sought refuge from Hurricane Rita carried a simple message: "Help Needed. Ice and Water. 43 People.

FEMA spokesman Ross Fredenburg said communications between Austin and rural East Texas have been troubled, in part because of power problems. But he said FEMA had set up distribution points in 27 southeastern Texas cities.

"I don't know what could have been done better since the materials were in place before the hurricane," Fredenburg said. "We're doing everything we can to get water and ice to whomever remains."

It was a hurricane. Conditions will be primitive for a while yet. A Midwest thunderstorm can knock out power for hours or days. Just one tornado can rip up an entire town. Hurricanes spawn multiple tornadoes and do more damage than a dozen severe thunderstorms. There is no instant gratification in recovery.

NEW YORK - As its hurricane relief donations near the $1 billion mark, more than double all other charities combined, the
American Red Cross is encountering sharp criticism of its efforts and mounting pressure to share funds with smaller groups.

The Red Cross estimates it will need $2 billion to finance Katrina-related emergency services.

"This work is so immense — it's dangerous any time you have a single organization monopolizing relief services," said coalition leader LaTosha Brown. "The Red Cross needs to recognize its limitations and reach out by partnering with local agencies who have people on the ground."

Yet the executive director of the watchdog group Charity Navigator said such pleas to the Red Cross are unrealistic, and many reflect envy of its fund-raising prowess.

"The Red Cross raised the money fair and square by making a compelling case to the American public that they were the best organization to get these dollars," Trent Stamp said. "To come in after the fact and ask them to share the money — I can't think of anything more pie-in-the-sky and naive."

Some activists have contended that the Red Cross response, notably in the first few days after Katrina, provided better services in mostly white areas than mostly black areas. "For the first 72 hours, they did not do an equitable job of responding to all communities," said Joe Leonard of the Washington-based Black Leadership Forum.

Red Cross chief diversity officer Rick Pogue said this perception arose because the organization, though committed to serving all in need, had more trouble getting teams into some impoverished black areas early in the crisis than into more affluent areas. "The need was so great, we'd go first to the areas we could get to the easiest," Pogue said.

This was a very good article, covering a lot of viewpoints. I wish there were more journalists of DAVID CRARY's caliber. And let me just say... When my neighbor's home burned down, the Red Cross was there. When people need blood, the Red Cross is there. Wherever there are prisoners of war, the Red Cross is there. And when there's a hurricane, a tsunami, a flood, a drought, starvation, war, genocide, or an act of terrorism, the Red Cross is there. Don't bitch because they're getting the lion's share of donations. They do the lion's share of the work.
While the Red Cross is not perfect, they are able to get the job done in ways that smaller charities cannot.

On September 2, Peace Corps Director Gaddi Vasquez accepted a mission assignment from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) to provide Crisis Corps Volunteers to support the emergency relief efforts in the Gulf Coast region.

Crisis Corps Volunteers are returned Peace Corps Volunteers who work on short-term projects, utilizing the skills they learned during their Peace Corps service and in post-service careers.

Neat, huh?


References
Conditions Primitive in Texas After Rita
Red Cross Criticized, Urged to Share Cash
Peace Corps' Response to Hurricane Katrina

Strange Dream
.
I dreamt I was nominated to fill Justice Sandra Day O'Connor's seat on the Supreme Court. Of all the interesting things Congress could have asked me, they chose to focus on my religion. I kept refusing to answer because I didn't believe one's personal religion has anything to do with whether I'd be a good Justice or not. It didn't feel like persecution. I kept laughing in my dream as they asked me things like, "Are you a Satanist? Do you cast spells? Are you Wiccan?"
One senator (generic overweight gray-haired caucasian) asked me about my blog.
None of them asked me why I didn't complete college.

Strange

And They're Fine
.
Aunt M and cousin D are both fine. They didn't even lose power. Go figure.

YAY
*clap*clap*clap*

Today I progressed to "balancing" on my right foot. "Balancing" is in quotes because I didn't so much balance as wiggle all over the place while stubbornly glueing my foot to the floor. I also had a spiky ball rubbed all into the scar. (ouch)

I can now raise up onto my toes, making a good arch with my right foot, and sharing my weight equally. Two weeks ago I couldn't lift my heel more than an inch. When I concentrate, I can walk heel to toe and push off on the ball of my foot. I'm really happy with my progress.

No word yet from Aunt M in Houston.

Poor Galveston
.
It's such a beautiful island, with such a beautiful view of the Gulf. I suppose the view will survive.

No word from my foolish aunt and cousin. I really did think Rita would miss Houston. (sigh) I keep trying to be mad at them, and all I am is worried. If Rita stalls, they could get 2 feet of rain. And all of it is going to run into my aunt's apartment. She lives in a very low-lying area.
I can't think about the risk to her life right now. Instead, I'm thinking about pictures. If aunt M gets flooded, really flooded; all her pictures of great grandma and great aunt Mary will be ruined.

Why didn't she leave?
There are no answers. Hopefully she'll be around after Rita has gone the way of the Dodo so that I can ask her.

Well, Nevermind
.
My idiot family members are staying put. There is a reason. I don't think it's a good enough reason.
My aunt has a boyfriend. His father died very recently. He's pretty depressed and doesn't want to leave the city. So she's staying too.

I think I'd be dragging him kicking and screaming if necessary.

She's stocked up on food and water. She put everything valuable up high, because she's expecting flooding. Pardon my sarcasm, but I hope she's got a good sized axe. She might need it to break a hole in the roof. (grrrrr)

And I have *no* idea why my cousin is still there.

I didn't say anything about evacuating (or not) in New Orleans, because I understand that some people have no way out and nowhere to go. But there is *no* excuse for not leaving Houston. The city provided buses and trains for those without cars. They offered shelter to those with nowhere to go.

MY FAMILY *HAS* SOMEWHERE TO GO! I have 40 family members living in the St. Louis area. We could have chipped in and forwarded money to evacuate, if they needed it. We have homes and food and loving support, damnit! Get the hell out of Dodge!

I'm sad and mad and baffled. Why?

Yeah, I Know Somebody
.
My aunt M and her youngest daughter D both live in Houston, TX. I'm not worried. They are both smart enough to get the heck outta town. I haven't heard anything about them coming up here. I hope St. Louis is where they're heading. They've got family here. Any of us could make room for a week or a month -should Rita hit Houston head on. I don't think that's going to happen. I think Hurricane Rita is going to make landfall just West of Morgan City, LA.

However; my aunt's neighborhood floods with a heavy rainfall. A storm surge would put her apartment underwater. So I know she's left town. The questions are, did she get out-out, or is she sitting in traffic? Did she buy a plane ticket? (likely) If so, has she made it through security yet?

The traffic jam in Houston is ridiculous. People are running out of gas on the highway. The police and highway assistance vehicles are running out of gas to keep the evacuees moving. The gas stations all along the way are out of gas, or closed because the owners evacuated. Hey, at least they're not price gouging!

Speaking of price gouging... The major pipeline that ships refined gasoline through St. Louis is shut down. Which means the gas in my tank will have to do until the pipeline is up again. Um, yeah.

MODOT
.
(sigh)
This morning the entrance ramp at Loughborough and 55 was closed. No advance warning. No obvious construction going on. Simply closed.
It was open on my return trip. But that didn't help me. I had to go around to the next onramp. Which meant going up to Germania, over Lemay Ferry, and down River Des Peres blvd. because Lemay Ferry road is the only place in my neighborhood to cross the river. Needless to say, this made L late for school. So he has detention. Again. For tardiness.
I called MODOT and complained. I don't want this happening again. I'm fine with the construction. It's the lack of advance warning when closing an ONRAMP that gets to me.

MODOT wasn't given advance notice, either. The contractor just went and did it. So. To Fred Weber Incorporated, I say this:
GET YOUR SUBCONTRACTORS TO GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER! Please.

Music
.
So the hubby-man and I chose some "dancing music" and commenced with the scar massage. Here's where you get a glimpse of our twisted humor. The first song was Annie Lennoxs' "Walkin' on Broken Glass". Followed by the song I can't not dance to; "Faith" by George Michaels.
The music really did help. Especially the second song. The hubby-man was able to press really hard and make those damn painful circles right on the scar, and the hurt was tolerable. I kept waiting for him to press the scar, because it didn't hurt enough for me to think he was pressing there. But he was! Wow.

Knitting Needles and Physical Therapy
.
I had my first PT visit on Thursday, and I rewarded myself atferward with some new knitting needles from Knitorious. I bought size 1 crystal palace bamboo needles, both straight and circular. I love them, and they're... in need of work. Yeah.
The straight needles are perfect for the lace I'm making, except the tips are too blunt. So I sanded the tips until they were thin enough to suit my needs. The circular needles looked great, but both needles pull out of their casing easily. I need to find a way to glue the little buggers in without glueing the cable, which needs to rotate freely. (sigh)
Fortunately, it'll be at least 2 weeks before I'm at the point where I need the circs. I still have the edging to finish, then the insert; before I finally get to the large body of the shawl.

Now, for the PT. Ugh.
My darling, dearest husband massages my foot. Because I don't have the nads to do it myself. The thought of deliberately inflicting real pain on myself... can't do it. So I lay on the massage table and try to detach myself from my foot while he does the deed. You wouldn't thing of a 5 minute foot massage as torture, normally. But this isn't normal. It's 3/4ths of an inch of scar tissue being manipulated.

You know how, when you're walking through the woods, you get little burrs stuck to your shoelaces? Picture those burrs all stuck together in a sheet. Now imagine it inside your foot. Now imagine someone rubbing it around in there.

And there was a time when I thought this cut was "interesting".

We're going to try a new thing today. During the massage (torture) session, we're going to play some dancin' music. It will give me something to focus on, and remind me why I'm putting myself through this. I'm going to pick out about 5 minutes worth of music, and it'll be good.

Yeee-sush!
.
And ouch, too! I had my first physical therapy appointment today.
I have stretching exercises to do, and I should massage my foot several times a day. I was taught how to think about walking instead of just letting my foot do it's own thing. And I'm getting ultrasound therapy to break up the scar tissue.
My therapist explained why my heel hurts sometimes. It's because I sliced through the planar fascia, so it's not stretchy anymore. She gave me an exercise for that, too.
Three times a day, I must put a towel on the floor and scrunch it up with my toes. It is unbelievable how much this exercise sucks. It *hurts*. I mean, the stretching is kind of unpleasant; and the massage is very unpleasant... but simply scrunching a towel is excruciating!
So I'm gonna be towel scrunching until it doesn't hurt anymore.
Yay for determination! Yay for pain tolerance! Yay for memory! Because I remember dancing and running and camping on a mountainside, and those memories will drive me to recovery so that I can dance and drive and camp again.

Clothing
.
I'll admit, I'm not much for style. I like oversized t-shirts, shorts and sandals (Or bare feet!) But this morning, I accidentally tipped over my coffee cup and spilled coffee all over myself. About 5 minutes before we needed to head out for school. I quickly threw on some clean clothes, thinking, "If anybody sees me, they'll only see the top half."

Um, yeah. Until We passed an accident involving one of L's classmates. All I saw was a stranded boy who was going to be late for school. I pulled over and offered him a ride. This involved me getting out of the truck. Which meant he could see my whole mismatched outfit. (picture forthcoming) I wonder why he turned me down? I think the lone purple sock was the least offensive, to tell you the truth.

Bureaucracy
.
My driver's license is up for renewal. As an anti-terrorism, homeland security, let's-make-citizens-lives-more-complicated measure, I must bring my birth certificate to the DMV. I don't happen to have my birth certificate, it was lost during one of my many moves. I can get a copy at city hall for a mere $15. Guess what I have to bring to prove I'm me?
.
.
.
My driver's license.

So, if my driver's license is good enough to get my birth certificate, why do I need my birth certificate to get my license renewed? Ah, bureaucracy.

My Bearded Saviour
.

Yesterday I went out for snake food and stopped off at QT for milk and Pepsi. I left the store with my cane over my arm and carrying a very heavy bag. I was lost in thought, trying to figure out how to get my cane in a useable position, when a bearded man asked me if he could help. I stared in surprise for half a second and looked around as if he might be asking someone else. He wasn't asking someone else. He was asking me... looking me straight in the eye. No pity, simply concern.

I had meant to say, "Thank you! I think I've got it." Instead I said, "Thank you!" and thrust my bag at him. "If you could just put it in the passenger seat..." I asked, pointing at the truck 12 feet away.
Which he did. He blew off my second "thank you" with some embarassment, and went into the store. He made my day.

It's always men with beards who come to my rescue. At least when I'm too busy to realize I need rescuing.
When my sister got her hand caught in the escalator? It was a bearded man who freed her. When my car broke down and I had to carry my baby (in a rainstorm, no less!) to a gas station half a mile down the road? A bearded man and his family picked me up. When my sister and I missed the last bus home from Six Flags? A bearded man gave us money to call home.
Every single time, I was trying to fix the problem all on my own. And every single time, a man with a beard helped me out without overdoing it.
I see each one as a miracle. Thanks, guys.

Darnit
.
L has a cold. I checked him this morning and fever is too high to dose him with tylenol and send him to school. In gradeschool, there is no doubt I'd be keeping him home. But this is high school. Kids don't spread germs as much in high school. And I think it's important to not miss any school. (grrr)
So here it is. 6 am on a friday morning. I'm wide awake and ready to tackle rush hour traffic.
I guess I'll knit. :D

*UPDATE*
I called the school and got that annoyingly loud tone in my ear, followed by, "We're sorry, all circuits are busy. Please try your call later."
Which I did. Again and again, for more than 2 hours. I did finally get through. Right around the time I'd achieved a state of blind panic wondering if the school had been taken over by terrorists or something.
Their power was out, and they'd spent the last 2 hours or so calling parents because they were sending the students home.
Go figure!

Searching For That Costume?
.
I understand. My son does it to me every year. My site stats tell me that someone was searching for "gambit costume pattern". Here's how I did it 2 years ago:

First I searched google images for a good pic of Gambit. I printed the pic (read: stole it off the internet... Fair use?) Then I browsed the patterns at a local sewing shop. I chose a knock off Matrix (first movie) pattern for women. Partly because the men's sizes were too large, and partly because I needed the extra chest room to accomodate the breast plate. I bought some cheap tan upholstery fabric while I was there. Now, Gambit's coat collar is larger than the pattern's collar, so after I cut out the pattern, I sorted through the scraps and found the perfect collar pieces. I think they were originally the armpit bits. I used the smallest size (6), but gave it a size 8 waist. Very easy to do. Just measure your child and apply the measurements to the pattern. The upholstery fabric gave the coat a little stiffness, which was perfect.
I couldn't have done it without Persephone. She did all the actual sewing.

Next came the tough part... the breastplate. I bought some 34 gauge copper sheeting (it comes in a tube at craft stores) and tried to hammer out pecs and a six pack with some of my jewelers tools. Hm. Not so good, there. The metal kept crimping. Never one to be discouraged, I grabbed the pestle from my mortar and pestle set and used that instead. I folded up a fluffy towel and placed the copper atop it. Then I made circles in the metal. Don't press to hard, copper is very malleable. I pressed down and "drew" a little circle, then just kept going, rotating outward until I got a "muscle" the size I wanted. The sheet of copper will begin to curve as you work it, which is all to the good, because you want a bit of a curve to fit the body. It took about 20 minutes for the entire breast plate.
When it was completed, I had what looked like the front half of a tank top, with muscles. I recommend cutting out the basic tank-top shape (scissors work just fine) before you start making the muscles.
I glued some foam to the inside, for comfort. I spray painted it red, because I didn't have any magenta paint. Nobody noticed. Then I glued the whole thing to a shirt. I'm lazy that way. If I'd had more time, I would have used rivets and soft suede straps.
Then came the boots. Um, yeah. I tried to make boot leggings out of copper, so that I could get the texture and all; but I ran out of time. Halloween morning saw me frantically cutting leather leggings and spray painting them silver. I used the "pestle technique" to make the knee caps, stuffed 'em with foam and glued them to the leggings. They didn't hold up very well. If I make another set, I'll add a strip of copper to wrap around and hold the little buggers in place.

Last but not least, the face mask. You'll love this. I cut the leg off of a pair of sweatpants that my son had outgrown and had him pull it over his head until it was rather snug. Then I drew the cut outs for the face, ears and top. Snip, snip, and Voila! One awesome face mask. No sewing required.

Pardon My Rant
.
L's school starts later on Wednesdays. I think it's because there are always accidents on the highways on Wednesdays, or something. So they decided to give the students extra time to get to school. The normal commute takes between 30-40 minutes. Today it took an hour and 20 minutes. Hwy 270 was a parking lot for 12 miles. We took 141 instead. And spent 25 minutes getting through Valley Park. Because they set their traffic lights to jam up traffic. Which leads to the real complaint...

I'm frustrated with my inability to do normal things. It was cute for a while. You know, can't go grocery shopping because I can't walk for more than a few minutes without pain, etc. It's not cute anymore. It's depressing. I'm angry a lot.
Last night the hubby-man and I got into an argument about getting a job. He's upset that I'd planned to sit at a coffee shop and knit while L is at school.(instead of job hunting) I don't *want* to sit and knit in public for 8 hours. I WANT to be working. I want to have a paycheck. And. I. Can't. Stand. On. My. Foot.
I have no office skills. I type 22 wpm. The only thing I've done for 14 years is customer service. What am I supposed to do?
Hubby-man says I'm arguing for my limitations. I say he doesn't understand how frustrating and depressing it is to be limited. I'm not sad-depressed, I'm angry-depressed. Help?

Hmmm... Thinking
.

To knit a shetland shawl, you knit a border. Then you pick up a bunch of stitches along the edge. Then you knit with those picked up stitches. A lot of knitters never finish a shetland shawl because of those darned picked up stitches. So I was wondering... What if you wove in a bit of colored string at the end of each row, so that you know exactly where the stitches are to be picked up? How come nobody does that? Or is it some lace knitting secret that I'm unaware of?

Just wondering.

Good News Everybody!
.
All 6 of the Christian Brothers have been located and evacuated. Thank you all for your prayers and concern.

Just Stuff
.
L invited a girl to the school mixer. He sent her an e-mail. I'm not sure what to think about that. Would it be considered a formal invitation, because it's written; or informal because it's an e-mail?

The hubby-man fixed my gun lock. I can clean my rifle again! This weekend, we'll do some target practice and I'll find out if I can still hit the broadside of a barn. :D

I saw a caravan of humvees and trucks heading south. Go Guard!
When I saw them, I felt sad.

I also saw a cadillac station wagon on highway 40, loaded with water and boxes. I wondered what the two young men in the car were planning. I decided they were bringing relief to those who had made it as far as our state.

I think America can absorb a few million refugees, as long as we spread them out in a lot of cities. A friend of mine has an extra bedroom and was considering inviting a family from the hurricane area to stay for a while. She's 4 months pregnant.

We gassed up yesterday morning, paid $2.99 a gallon. The total was $47 and change. The same station was $3.19 in the afternoon.

The world response to America's disaster has been awesome. Some people think it's time the world paid us back for all the help we've given. I don't think of it as pay back. I see the offers as a gift. Thank you! Thank you for caring. Thank you for wanting to help. Thank you for giving. Thank you, Canada, for the assistance you've already sent. You'll be traveling through some beautiful country on your way to the southern coast. Take some pictures!

Hurricane Katrina Fund
September 1, 2005
Dear Lasallians,

We will continue to post on our website updates on what we know of our Lasallian ministries, Brothers and partners in the New Orleans area as information becomes available. The devastation in New Orleans and the Gulf Coast is overwhelming. Almost no one in this area is unaffected and over a million people are either homeless or suffering terrible consequences of this storm. This also includes our Lasallians, Brothers and Partners, and our schools in the area.

We at the Conference office have been in contact with Brother Louis Welker, Visitor of New Orleans and Santa Fe over these past days. As you might imagine the Provincialate there has been overwhelmed not only with questions and statements of concern but also from relatives seeking news of Brothers and partners. In solidarity with our Lasallians in the New Orleans area and to help them, we have offered to handle whatever questions we can and to serve as a clearinghouse for those wanting to assist Lasallians and our ministries in distress.

Any donations that you wish to go to hurricane relief for those in the New Orleans and Santa Fe District can be channeled through us at:

Hurricane Fund
Christian Brothers Conference
4351 Garden City Drive
Suite 200
Landover, MD 20785-7225
301-459-9410


We ask all interested parties to make donations payable to “Christian Brothers Conference” with a memo line, or separate note, indicating that it is for the Hurricane Fund.

I urge all of our ministries to have special collections or its first mission collections for relief of our brothers and sisters victimized by this hurricane. There are many agencies such as Red Cross and Catholic Charities USA through whom you may donate. However, if you wish to show solidarity with our Lasallians in New Orleans, we will be sure that funds get to them.

We also ask that you contact us rather than the Provincialate in Lafayette with questions. This will lessen the burden on their staff.

Let all of us do what we can to help our brothers and sisters in this time of disaster.

Brother Thomas Johnson, FSC
Regional Coordinator
Christian Brothers Conference

A Semi-Personal Update From Louisiana
.
As you know, my son attends CBC High School. There are 4 (four) Lasallian partner schools in Louisiana. Two in New Orleans, one in Covington, and one in Metairie. Some of the Brothers left the schools in New Orleans, and some stayed behind to ride out the storm. This is from the CBC website:
"A Message from Brother Thomas Johnson Regional Director of the Christian Brothers Conference:

Dear Lasallians,

This is an update on the Hurricane Katrina situation as it affects Lasallians.

As you know, communication to New Orleans is very poor at this time due to the damage caused by the hurricane. I have been in contact with the Provincialate in Lafayette, LA. Some Brothers from New Orleans left prior to the storm and headed for Lafayette or other places. Others stayed to ride out the storm.

This morning I received the following message from Brother Louis Welker in Lafayette, Visitor of the New Orleans-Santa Fe District. Brother Louis writes:

"All attempts to reach the Brothers in New Orleans and Covington have failed. The National Guard will not let anyone in the city. We do not expect that the news will be good. I fear for our Brothers who decided to ride it out. Not knowing is hard! We will keep you informed."

Brother Louis Welker
August 30, 2005

Please keep everyone who has been affected by this disaster in your prayers."

Any loss is hard; and the Lasallian Brothers do so much for so many, that I find their loss particularly difficult. It is my hope that they are somewhere safe. Schools can be rebuilt, lives cannot.

And Another Thing
.
Before CNN had all those rescue shots, they spent a lot of time talking about some dolphins that were moved to a swimming pool. Anybody know if they survived?

Katrina
.
The information coming out of LA and MS gives me chills. They're trying to fix the broken levees in Lake Ponchitrane (sp?), the water is rising, and there's an impossible number of people needing evacuation. Mississippi looks like it was hit with a tsunami. It's awful.

Bad Mommy Activity
.
Yep. That's me. After 14 years of mommyhood, a piece of my past reached out and slapped me in the face; and I reacted without thinking what I might be teaching my son.
He was shocked by my reaction. I suppose it's all well and good for him to know I'm writing a book about growing up in the inner city; and he loves my amusing stories of bar fights, race wars, and the things kids did with explosives. But I never told him the pervert stories. So he never knew just how deeply the neighborhood pervs affected me. How miserable they made the neighborhood that I played in.

It wasn't even that great an act of perversion. It was just one step over the line of Shit I Never Wanted My Child To See (tm)

What happened was, I went to the ATM for lunch money for L. Some guy was standing in the middle of the parking lot, talking on a cell phone and urinating.

There was a freaking gas station 300 ft. away. There was a video store and grocery store even closer. He couldn't walk to the fucking bathroom? No. He was rotating so that drivers on both Loughborough and Morganford could see him. He wanted to be seen.

And because I'm a bit of a coward, I drove up to the atm and didn't start expressing my opinion until I was hidden from view. I knew in my heart that you can't give these people any recognition whatsoever; yet I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I stated loudly that pissing in public is assinine. That there were at least 3 bathrooms within walking distance. What? He couldn't hold it? Perhaps his prostate was bothering him. Asshole.
Secretly I was fighting the urge to get out of the truck and get in his face. I wanted to grab the piece of anatomy in use, pull him close to my face and cuss at him 'til he squirmed for release. Even though that's the exact wrong thing to do. I suddenly remembered my mom dealing with a similar situation. In my head, I clearly saw her cross the street, walk up to the guy, and stare interestedly at the stream of urine. When he stopped (almost immediately) she said, "You wanted to be watched. I thought I'd give you a proper audience." Then she turned her back on him and walked back to my sister and I. Damn, my mom was cool.

Remembering that, I smiled. I finished my ATM business and drove away. I even looked at the guy as we passed. He was sitting in his truck by then, still on the phone. Strange.

What really pisses me off (no pun intended) is that I let it get to me. In front of my son, no less.

So I Did It
.
I called my insurance company, made sure PT was covered, and called my doctor. My paperwork should be in the mail by tomorrow. I feel relieved. It's not like I'm living through a hurricane or anything.

Speaking of which; L is going to help me go through his old clothes and we're going to donate what doesn't fit anymore to a hurricane relief charity. We don't have a lot of money, we can't ship tapwater... and dammit, we've got a lot of clothes!

...grumble...

It's been 3 weeks and 2 days since I sliced open my foot. I'm sure you're sick of reading about it. I'm certainly sick of living with it. I've gotten some feeling back, but it's really hard to walk on the numb part of my foot. So I wind up "walking" on the outer edge instead; which causes my big toe to curl up. The pad of my big toe has no real feeling and my brain keeps making up sensations to fill the void. Phantom pain comes in great variety. (sigh)

Today, I realized that I can't keep walking like this. It's messing with my whole body. I need to see a physical therapist. And I don't want to.
Thus the title.
*grumble*

My Husband, My Saviour
.
My dearest, darling, love of my life, husband was awake last night after my last entry. He carried the laundry for me. He listened lovingly as I hemmed and hawed over asking him to get up extra early to drive L to school. I *so* didn't want to ask him. And I was so afraid that the pain would be unbearable halfway to school. He looked at the obvious swelling beneath my healed laceration. And this morning, he drove.
(weep)
He is the most awesome person in the universe. I am so fortunate to be his wife.

Back On The Crutches
.
But hopefully only for a night.
Because I let my mom goad me into doing something stupid, (dancing, 80's style) which required me to bounce on my injured foot. Because apparently, I forgot that I was hurt. So I bounced.

And met with a pain I knew once, long ago. The delightful sensation of interior flesh giving way.
Yeah, baby.
There's nothing like a little stupidity to remind you of ballet class. For those of you who have taken dance; remember when you'd have a particularly tight muscle? And you'd think, "I'll just exercise this out." And you'd tear or pull it? Yeah. That.

So I wrapped me in an ace bandage and had the Hubby-Man get my crutches out of the closet. The plan is that the combination of pressure to prevent swelling and no weight at all on my foot will enable me to drive tomorrow. L needs to get to school, you see. And I have no one to call on. The Hubby-Man can't do it, he's working in the opposite direction tomorrow. (sigh)

So applaud my stupidity and pray that traffic is light, ok? Thanks. :)

They Found Me!
.

And all they had to do was search for:

buy anti-diamond shirt death terrorism
Not here, but lots of webstores let you design your own.

fatten girl "the witch " -gretel -hans
I like how Google asks, "did you mean beaten girl... etc? Nice. Very nice. You sick people with your twisted searches.

how does Krispy Kreme donut recycle grease
Never thought to ask.

and my favorite search this week:

bomb "used it as a hammer"

Traffic
.
This is for all the commuters out there. How do you do it every day? And how do you cope once school starts, and the roads become clogged with Mommymobiles and school busses? How long does it take before traffic returns to the normal rush hour squeeze?

Because it took me an hour and 20 minutes to drive 22 miles today, and I was ready to cry. How friggin' early do I have to get out the door to avoid these additional drivers? Arrrgh!

All Gone
.
Here it is, my LACERATION (LOL, see injury update post)
Anyway, my laceration, minus the stitches; now that the steristrips have come off:

.
The dark matter is just stuff that wants to stay stuck to my skin. I poured hydrogen peroxide all over the (now healed) wound, and it didn't even foam up. I guess I'll have to soak my foot for a while in order to see nothing but new, pink skin.

...And Then My Sister Voiced Her Opinion
.
She of the medical field, knower of all things gruesome, a person who's opinion I value... Except when she tells me to quit hobbling around already. She pointed out that the stitches are gone. And the SteriStrips don't do any good. So I must be healed.

Right. And when mom had her mastectomy she, what? Didn't need the SteriStrips to hold her skin together? It would have just held together all on it's own, I suppose. Argh!

The thing is, my sister is probably right. And my foot is still sensitive. I'd rather use my cane, thank you. I know I'll have to give up my "crutch" eventually. But not today. :P
*end rant*

Baseball In St. Louis

.
My cousin graduated from Exeter last spring, and he's entering the Navy in January; so his parents threw him a party. At Bush Stadium! Woot!
So we went and sat in the nosebleed seats along with 48 of my cousin's friends and family members. There was no way I was going to miss my only chance to see the Cards play this year. So I put on my red tennis shoes, grabbed my cane and headed to the ball park.

(the Hubby-Man drove)

And guess what? I got to ride in the courtesy golf cart, so I didn't have to walk up to the 3rd tier. AND I got a ride back down again! Wasn't that sweet of them?

My foot was swollen and bruised looking after the game, so I have an ice pack on it now. The ice is very, very good.

Freedom!
.
Tonight, just a few minutes ago actually, I took my first unassisted steps since last Wednesday. You may be thinking, "Woo-do-hoo. The 36 year old is learning to walk... and?"

But I'm tellin' ya, the liberation of those first steps... oh my gods.
I'm not going to over do it. Because I'm not stupid, and I know healing takes time and comes in stages. But, oh man! The sheer, unadulterated JOY of WALKING. You just don't know how beautiful that is until you can't walk.

(sniff... it makes me a bit weepy)

If Yesterday
was an awful day, today was terrific. Because today I had my stitches removed. And we got L's shot record corrected. And the Hubby-Man got himself checked up, too.
Dr. Pozzi was impressed with how cleanly my wound is healing. Thank you to everyone who sent healing energy to my foot. I could feel it! Thank you!

I need to be able to drive by next Thursday; that's when L starts school.

I'm sick and tired of my crutches. I'm tired of asking my family to fetch and carry for me. I'm not used to this kind of incapacity. It's damned frustrating. And yet, I'm so very grateful for the tiniest things my family does for me. Holding a door or carrying a cup of coffee has HUGE value when you can't do it yourself.
I find that I have to plan out my movements, so that everything gets done while I'm up; because once I sit down, I don't want to get up again. Not because I'm lazy (which I am,) but because I'm lifting 130 or so lbs with one lone thigh muscle. It takes effort.

On a positive note, I'm building muscle mass like you wouldn't believe!

Yeah, Buddy!
.
On July 1st, the city of St. Louis began offering benefits to domestic partners of city employees, along with any children the partners may have.

Here's what The Arch City Chronicle says:
"City Extends Benefits to Domestic Partners of Employees

Under the leadership of Richard Frank and with the encouragement of Mayor Slay, St. Louis City has begun offering its employees domestic partnership benefits. The change went into effect July 1 and gives same-sex partners as well as others living in committed, but unmarried relationships, and their children the right to medical, dental and insurance benefits. Enrollees must sign a Affadavit of Domestic Partnership.

Critics of extending such benefits have often cited costs as a barrier. However, the City reports that the change will not add any costs to its medical benefits plan.

The action did not require aldermanic approval and went into effect largely unnoticed. But it is important because it shows that the City is taking meaningful steps to promote itself as a hospitable and progressive community despite a state government which has recently been hostile to gays.
Posted by Dave on August 9, 2005 11:04 AM "

Sweet! Truly, truly sweet!

Amy sent me this quote

Which I modified slightly:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body.......

but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body throughly used up, laughing all the way."

Knitting For Comfort
.
The crutches I've been using (and for which I'm eternally grateful) have no padding. But now that I know how to knit, I've knit up a pair of covers. Here's how:

What you'll need: worsted weight yarn, size 5 needles, tapestry needle for seams.

Cast on 30 stitches. leave a tail for sewing up seams.
knit 2 rows
purl 1 row
row 4: knit 2 together, yarn over, repeat to end of row
row 5: yarn over (or whatever method you like to add a stitch) purl to end of row
row 6-26: knit
row 27: purl
row 28: k2 tog, YO, repeat to end
row 29: purl
rows 30 & 31: knit
cast off, leaving a tail for sewing up seams.
fold knitting in half so that your cast on and cast off sections are touching. Use the tail to sew up to the lacy bit on both sides. Weave in ends or separate yarn and add beads for a decorative touch. The garter stitch gives better padding than stockinette. Picture forthcoming... the camera is in the basement and I ain't doin' stairs!

Giving Credit
.
Not only did Persephone and her family come over to keep me off my foot, she cleaned my kitchen, cooked, and did my dishes! She provided me with coffee and held the door so I could hobble outside. She fetched my meds after I sat down as far as humanly possible from them. She sat in the uncomfortable seat, so I could put my foot up. And she left her partner to keep me company when she had to run out for a bit.
She understood when I tried to do things for myself, gave me leeway, and still prevented me from hurting myself.

Words cannot express how awesome she has been to me. As hectic as her life is right now, she still takes time to chat on the phone; because she knows that if I'm talking, I'm sitting. She gave the Hubby-Man a break from taking care of me. Not that he asked, mind you. She just intuitively knew that he needed a few hours for himself.

Thank you, Persephone. For everything.

And thank you, Chasmyn, for taking the time to talk with me. Calling out of the blue, right when I was freaking out about my foot. Your timing couldn't have been better.

Injury Update
.
Mom found my old crutches and brought them over, then peered over my shoulder as I changed the dressing on my foot, then sat and watched her soap opera, without once offering to get me a cup of coffee.
:(

BUT. Without her crutch-bringing, followed by any assistance whatsoever; I never would have figured out that I can't move my big toe very well. Because the crutches are old and one of the rubber feet fell off when I was trying them out. I tried to pick it up with my toes and discovered that my foot doesn't work so well. I can't make my big toe separate from the other toes. And I have a curiously numb spot that runs from the stitches to the middle of my big toe. Hm.
So it looks like I'll get to be my own guinea pig for comfrey vs. nerve damage. Cool, huh?

On a related note, the ER gives you a piece of paper saying what's wrong with you, how to treat it, and a long caveat that they could be wrong. Mine reads:
"The doctor thinks your complaint might be due to LACERATION. Your regular physician should check this diagnosis" etc.
I laughed out loud over that one. It might be a laceration, but we can't be sure... LOL.
The hubby-man said, "Yeah. It could be from acute skin failure instead."

The Itch To Blog
.
I was going to write about my foot. How odd it is that a major trauma results in me smiling at the world... how this morning I was awoken with an itch so strong it was painful... and how awesome it was to have Persephone come over and keep me from trying to take care of myself...

But first I checked my e-mails, one of which was a summary of my site stats. Now, I know we all get weird hits sometimes; and not counting the x-rated ones, this one was just strange. Somebody went looking for:
old cherokee rituals for getting rid of freckles

Seriously.

Not even NEW Cherokee rituals for getting rid of freckles. No, whoever this was wanted old rituals, only. I don't believe "old" Native Americans had much of a problem with freckles. Do you?

Anyway, my quest to see who else had that combination of words on one page led me to a new blog! Knotty Yarn. Smart, funny, interesting... what more can you ask for?

Gory Pictures Link
.

You can see my stitches here

and a closeup here.
Note the large callous on the ball of my foot. That's because I always pivot in the same foot. Too many years of ballet, LOL.
Also note how fat my foot looks. It's a bit swollen.

The Hubby-Man stayed home from work today to take care of me. I thought he was being silly, but (as usual) he was right. I can't take care of myself today. I gave away my crutches ages ago, so I'm using a bar stool as a walker to get around. Because my hubby is home, I get to blog from his laptop and he brings me coffee and food and knitting. He's so awesome. He really is. I don't know what I would do without him. His support has made all the difference.
(I love you, Hubby-Man!)

Oh... AND
.
The hubby man stepped on a nail while he was carrying me out to the truck. Fortunately, it didn't puncture his foot.

Other things I forgot to include:
I almost burst into tears when I entered the ER, because it was such a relief to know I was somewhere that I could be fixed, and I didn't have to hold myself together anymore. And when I realized that I was relieved, the tears dried up instantly. Weird huh?

After it was all over, I got the shakes. Hubby-Man wrapped me in a blanket and held me until they stopped. Doesn't he rock?

I got a piggy back ride through the backyard, with both my neighbors watching. Salvador said, "Hi! How are you?" And I said, cheerfully, "I got stitches!" Like it was my birthday or something.

When I think about my foot, it still freaks me out.

...And Then I Went To The Emergency Room...

There I was, talking to my doctor's office; trying to clear up L's vaccination record before school... when I stepped on something. Something that sliced my foot open, leaving a 2 inch wide, 3/4 inch deep gash in the sole of my foot. It was broken glass, courtesey of my cat.

I cussed into the phone, apologised to the poor guy on the other end, cussed more as I looked at my foot, apologised again, then told him I'd cut my foot and I'd have to call him back because right now... I needed stitches.
I flung myself down on the massage table, stuck my foot in the air, then realized I had nothing but my unwashed hands to press against the wound to stop the bleeding.
Fortunately, the Hubby-Man was home. He was already in the bathroom looking for gauze. He emerged (gauzeless) with a roll of toilet paper, which he pressed against the sole of my foot, saying, "Are you ok?"
I said, "yes... NO!... I need to go to the hospital!"
He stood next to me, holding my foot and keeping me calm until he could leave without me freaking out. When I was calm; he fetched a bandage, gauze tape, and our son. He bandaged my foot, got us all out the door, half carried me to the truck and drove to the hospital... All without breaking a sweat.
Did I mention he held my hand the whole way as he calmly navigated rush hour traffic in a stick shift? I think he grew another limb for the drive.

The emergency room was practically empty. They met me at the door with a wheelchair and I was triaged right away. The Hubby-Man's calming influence must have made a difference because my blood pressure was 129 over 73. I spent 20 or 30 minutes in the waiting room. Most of my time was spent laying on the floor, meditating.
Because it hurt and I was scared!
The last time I was in a hospital, I was giving birth. So I laid there and compared the waves of nauseating pain to labor. Labor is definately more intense.

After some time spent laying around, they put me in a room on a comfy gurney/bed, where I meditated again. Endorphins don't last very long, and I was starting to really wish for a local anesthetic.
A nice lady came in for my insurance information, quickly followed by a nurse. The nurse asked me questions about my injury before carefully removing my makeshift bandage. (a thick gauze pad and a helluva lot of gauze tape)
The nurse took a quick peek at my foot, said, "Wow. That's deep. You might need an x-ray" She put a fresh bandage on while saying, "I'm going to have the doctor look at this." Before leaving the room. She was really nice about it, though.

I got a quick peek at my foot, too; and started shaking uncontrollably. I suppose that's better than when my nostrils wouldn't stop twitching in the waiting room, which made me laugh, which made my foot hurt, which made my nostrils twitch harder.

Anyway, the doctor came in around the same time I stopped shaking. He pulled back the bandage, looked me straight in the eye and told me I'd need stitches, numbing shots, and that he'd have to probe for glass. Lovely. He also warned me that the shots would really, really hurt.

He wasn't kidding.

Oh, my, freakin, god, did they hurt! I actually screamed. The Hubby-Man held my hand and let me grip his arm while I screamed and gasped. There was a point where my vision went away. The world went black. I remember these things, but I can't recall the actual pain. I guess that means it really, really hurt... just like the doctor said it would.

However. I didn't feel anything but pressure as the doctor cleaned and probed my foot. I only felt one of the 6 stitches I recieved, and compared to the lidocaine shots -it was nothing.

I expect my arm will be sore tomorrow from the tetanus shot they gave me, but my foot is in agony. I keep getting little sparks of pain so sharp, it's crunchy. Oh, and I've got a bunch of antibiotics, too.

So there's my story. I'll post a link to the gory pictures tomorrow, when I change the dressing.

National Night Out
.
Tomorrow is national night out; the day you're supposed to go outside and meet your neighbors. My mom and her next door neighbor usually throw a block party. This year her neighborhood is throwing a party at Mt. Pleasant park. So Mom and her friend decided to skip the big party and have an ice cream float social instead. That way, all they need is ice cream, soda and cups.

Previous night-out's would see her street crowded with children, while small groups of adults stood on the sidewalk. She hopes this year will be a little different. She's giving tickets to her neighbors and any guests they bring, and everyone will exchange their ticket for a cup. They will then write their name on the cup, so everyone knows who they are. Like a name tag. Cool, huh?

There will be frisbees, jump ropes and chalk for the kiddies. If it's hot, she'll set up a sprinkler in the street.

I have again volunteered to decorate the street entrance in chalk and draw a few pictures here and there so the kids will know it's ok to draw on the street. Then I plan to get the heck outta there, before mom does anything crazy.
Last year she took on a teenager who wanted to race down the blocked off street full of children. (sigh) That woman is gonna give me a heart attack someday.

Fruity!
.
I pulled several ounces of wool off my big spool 'O cobweb, and played with kool-aid. Actually, I played with a Flav-R-Aid; and learned a lot. First, I learned that wool is kind of water resistant, and you should wash it with a bit of soap first. (I didn't do this) Second, I learned that the combination of hot water, dye and vinegar caused my wool to release more lanolin. The previously stiff yarn now wraps around tiny needles easily. Third, I learned that it takes a while for the wool to soak up all the dye. And last, I learned that Flav-R-Aid leaves a chalky residue on the bottom of the dish, and white dandruffy flakes sticking to the wool. But they come out easily.

I'm Twisted That Way
.
Have you ever been playing games on the internet, when suddenly, a nonsense rhyme pops into your head? Like, out of nowhere... there it is; and you have to stop playing so you can blog about it?

Or is it just me?

This is what interrupted my gaming:

"Don't pump me full of chemicals and bury me in the ground. Just toast me 'til I'm ashes and spread me all around."

So I turned it into a poem, with extra verses, on my other blog.

Thinking Aloud With My Fingers
.
How intricate do I really want to get? The first swatch of lace turned out ok. The pattern would be better defined on smaller needles, but the wool has a lot of fuzzy bits that make larger needles better for showing the open work. I can't have it both ways. So...
Option A -scrap the whole cobweb weight idea and knit with crochet cotton.
Plus Side Minus Side
better stitch definition, much quicker knit ____ not what I wanted
can make it very fancy and textured ____________ feels like cheating

Option B - suck it up and start knitting, hope that when it's the size of a tablecloth it'll look ok.

Option C - knit several boring lace shawls from stash yarn and donate those instead.

None of the options make me happy, but leaning toward option B.

Question - Why do I want to make such a complicated item for the auction? Answer - Because I'll be proud of it. Because it should bring in more money for the school. And because I'll be proud of it.

Not Too Bad... And You?
.
All previous pissing and moaning aside, I can walk and stuff. There's a knot on my knee where I hit the ground, but no real bruising. Just a kind of greyish shadow. Oddly enough, the worst pain is where I skinned my arm during the fall.
Why is it that skinned arms and paper cuts hurt worse than bigger injuries? You would think our bodies would have better pain wiring.

So today, I'm off to the library. I'm also going to get snake food. The E.A.R.C. has started carrying gerbils, which are the perfect size for Sinbad the snake. And they're cheaper than buying 2 mice or a small rat. I actually prefer feeding Sinbad gerbils, and not just because of the price. I think rats are cute and smart, and they make good pets... but not in a house full of cats. Gerbils, on the other hand, can be aggressive.

*note: the spell checker doesn't acknowledge "gerbils" as a word, and thinks "greyish" should be spelled "grayish"
I have clear opinions on grey vs. gray. Gray is a hair color. Grey is everything else that's black with some white mixed in. :P