October 31, 2007

She had a good day, yesterday. No crying or moaning or fright because she didn't know where she was or what was happening to her. I managed to give her a shower and wash her hair. It was such a beautifully warm day, that later, we went for a walk all the way down the driveway, out into the road, and back. She took a long nap after that.

Dementia is such a roller coaster. That's why it's so hard to know if the meds are working. It could be just a day her brain decides to give her a break.

Today, we're back to the usual, with her waking up afraid and crying because nothing looks familiar.

Yesterday, the good day, she even tried to play a little on her Lowry organ. Sometimes when she plays, I sing along to help her remember the tune.

This morning, as she cried because she was afraid, I sang yesterday's song for her, again.

Whistle a Happy Tune

Make believe you're brave
And the trick will take you far.
You may be as brave
As you make believe you are....

She's taking a nap, now. I should be making adjustments in the fleece pants I bought for her, now that it's getting cold up here on the mountain. I guess I'll do that now.

October 30, 2007

I'm wondering.

Suppose I had an hour to get me and my mother out of here. Maybe there's wildfire coming, or maybe some heartless marauders.

In addition to underwear, socks, shoes, and basic clothing, what are the important things that I would gather up in that short period of time I had before the disaster strikes.

Our medications.

Our eyeglasses.

My CPU, since everything important is on there. I never have time to back up stuff on disks, and I can always buy a keyboard and monitor.

My cell phone.

My cat.

My charge cards and our medical cards.

The family photo collage that my mother has hanging on her wall and that she looks at every day.

My mother's rosary.

The family photo albums.

I would mourn the loss of my books, my bins of yarn and craft supplies, the rest of my clothes, the boxes of memorabilia. But some of that can be replaced, and I can live without the rest.

It's interesting to me that it's my CPU that's most important. It holds just about all the links to the essentials of my life. If there were no electricity to be had, I would be truly lost.

What would you take?

October 29, 2007

The following post is by MYRLN, a non-blogger who is Kalilily Time's guest writer every Monday.

SHORT AND SOUR

"Great job, Brownie." With those immortal words from Prez Dumbya to FEMA's then director, the whole fiasco about the agency's ineptitude around hurricane Katrina came to light. Since then, many changes have been made. Great Job guy is gone. FEMA's under Homeland Security.

With the huge outbreak of wildfires in California, attention partly turned to FEMA to see if anything had changed. For the most part, things seemed better, good and effective cooperation between Federal and State governments. So last Tuesday, FEMA held a press conference. Its Deputy Director fielded questions and supplied answers that put FEMA in an overall excellent light. "I'm very happy with FEMA's response," he said.

Only one problem with the whole thing: there were no reporters there. The questions all came from FEMA employees posing as reporters. In other words, it was staged. It was all a lie. There was no news conference. Afterwards, when the "great job, Brownie" moment ultimately came and the sham revealed, the White House said FEMA was guilty of an "error in judgment."

Right...the error being they got caught doing what this administration and its minions do most and best: lying. When will the entire country finally see that the only commitment the Bush administration has had from its inception is to lying? It lied about Iraq, its Attorney Generals, its Defense Secretary, its State Department, its legal advisors. In short, about its EVERY DAMNED WORD OUT OF ITS DAMNED LYING MOUTH! The only pertinent qualification for getting hired by the Bushies is the answer to this question: How well can you lie?

Those who support the Liars Club should understand: their support makes them as guilty as Dumbya and Friends for the serious undermining of this nation's Constitution and moral underpinnings. You can't escape that. Your support of liars makes you one, too. All the righteous posturing in the world about "hard truths" and "compassionate conservatism" and the other claptrap you mouth won't change the heart of the matter which is this: You support Bush? Then you are also a liar. Nothing you say can be trusted or believed. You live on lies.

Get it?

October 26, 2007

I know that the full moon officially was yesterday, but the lunacy caught up with us today.

I've had a headache all day that nothing would ease. Of course, my mom was in constant meltdown today, making my headache almost unbearable.

And then the hot water pipes in the basement sprung a leak after I took a shower this evening.

At this moment, I don't care if the whole blasted house and everyone in it springs a leak. I'm going to Albany tomorrow because if I don't get out of here for at least 24 hours, I'm going to have a meltdown to end all meltdowns.

I've about reached the end of my patience and compassion. So, even when, in a semi-lucid moment she said "Don't throw me away," I barely felt a heart tug.

What about the years of my life that I'm "throwing" away -- years I'll never get back. Her life is hardly a life at all. And mine is wasting away.

If only I could feel like that:

[The above poem is from one of Jim Culleny's daily poem emails

Speaking of Jim, his final statement at the end of this post on species extinction really hits home:

The truth is the earth doesn't need us. We're not that important (religious arguments to the contrary). Life will most likely survive for many millenium. Whether we're here to enjoy it, is another matter.

Finally, the illusive analectic spinner, Roshi Bob, has a revamped blog and a new post on "Dermatology,Galileo, and Religion." It begins:

A creationist student of mine with a wart the size of a gumball on the end of his nose recently told me science is overrated and often anathema to God. In the same breath he said he was seeing a dermatologist about the wart.

And if you like that one, check out his other Analectics.

October 25, 2007

b!X is my son. We didn't name him that. The name sort of evolved out of his life.

He's the only son I have, and he lives across this wide county -- too far for even birthday visits, although someday, after my caregiving days are over, I just might wind up on his doorstep. Not to stay, of course, but at least to hug.

But for now, it has to be that "check in the mail, buy what you need," this long-distance birthday best wish, and a comment on his blog. (Maybe the best present he could have gotten, being practically born a Red Sox fan, is the team's last win, which, here on the East Coast, happened on his birthday.)

So, have a happy birthday, sonbix. Here's hoping your day is filled with other happy events.

October 24, 2007

Well, it was some kind of tick that I pulled out of my cat. It came out very easily, and I can't seem to find any sore on my cat's skin where the tick had attached itself. From what I can tell by looking at images of a bloated tick, that's what it was.

While I pulled it out by its end that was stick up and not by the head in the skin, like it seems I was supposed to, it came out very easily, almost seemed to back out.

I realize now that I should have stuck the tick in a jar and took it somewhere to be tested for Lyme Disease, but....

I'm keeping an eye on my cat, who seems fine and doesn't seem to have any sore spot in the area where I found the tick. But I'll keep watching.

Thanks for the advice left on my previous post. It all helped.

I was sitting outside in the sun with my mom, and I was petting my cat. who likes to hang around with us. Especially in the sun.

Uh oh. What is this? A mole? A tumor? Something stuck on her skin under her fur as a result of her traipsing through our acres of weeds?

It looked a little like the tail end of a smooth (unsegmented) gray worm sticking out of the skin. Or maybe just a little pile of schmutz that landed between tufts of fur and stuck. I touched it with my finger. It moved

Uh oh. I go and get a pair of tweezers. Maybe I can pull it out, brave and stupid cat owner that I am.

Well, I did pull it out of what might have been a little hole in my cat's back and placed in on the cement step. It looked like a small, smooth flat oval gray pebble, maybe one-half inch long. I poked it with the tweezers. What looked like little antennae appeared out of the end that had been on (or in) the cat's skin.

I lifted my foot and smashed it. Splat. Well, a little splat. It was rather small.

After the fact, I googled around looking for what it might have been. The closest I could come was the botfly larva. If that's what it was, oops. I wasn't supposed to try to remove it by myself. Uh. Too late.

Only I'm not sure that's what it was. I can't find any hole or sore spot on my cat from where I removed the little creature.

I wish now that I had taken a photo of the specimen, before I splatted it, of course. Maybe someone on the Net could have identified it.

Maybe I'll never know what the damned thing was, but I'm going to keep checking my cat for more moving bumps. And I'll keep my tweezers handy.

October 23, 2007

For most people I know, taking time out to sit down and eat lunch at a sunny spot of their kitchen table and pick up the mystery book they've been reading is not a big deal.

For me, it's an event.
So, on Sunday, when she finally fell asleep after a day and a half of constant crying and moaning and whining and refusing to respond to any comfort, I finally had a few moments of quiet. And sunlight.

Her bouts of wordless whining are like Chinese water torture. At times like these I feel like I'm losing it. I threaten to go off my antidepressants and have a nervous breakdown just so that I can get some extended peace and quiet. Just so that I no longer have to live every day under the tyranny of her dementia. I am trying to convince my brother that she needs antidepressants. Dementia and depression are often all mixed up together.

When I start feeling like that I go into the garage, close the door, and loudly vocalize my anger, my frustration, my restlessness, my powerlessness.

But Sunday, there was sunlight and quiet, so after lunch, I scooted outside to walk up and down the long crunchy-leafed driveway, picking up tree limbs tossed there by the wind a few days earlier and meditating on the creative projects I will someday do when this trying crying time is over.

I take my little camera and stomp around the property, looking for roots, old roots that will become part of one of the projects I'm imagining that I will get to do someday.

I find several large trees that had been unearthed 30 years ago when the land was cleared to build the house. Good old roots.

I'm intrigued by a huge mound of unearthed rotting tree roots. In the afternoon shadows, forms and shapes emerge that become almost abstract art. "Autumn Art," I muse.

And, maybe this, a watercolor.

In case you're wondering what's in my colorful sunny luncheon dish, it's a concoction I make periodically when I get a hankering for food with flavor. (Cooking for my mother means no spices -- she thinks the specs are bugs -- so it's basically onion powder and garlic powder and not too much of those because she has a sensitive stomach.)

So, every once in a while, I make a big bowl of assorted healthy stuff that I refrigerate and eat for days on end. The basis of it comes from jars: marinated zucchini, roasted sweet red peppers, green and black olives; a small can of diced oregano and garlic flavored tomatoes; frozen mixed vegetables (carrots, peas, corn) that I partially cook and then marinate while still warm in whatever vinaigrette salad dressing I have on hand; chick peas (which I also warm and throw in the marinade); chopped red onions. Then I mix it all together, adding some of the liquid from the jarred ingredients so that I get the tangy taste I crave, and I put the very large container in the refrigerator and every once in a while give it all a good mixing.

When I want to have some for lunch, I add other last-minute ingredients (whatever I have on hand), such as mushrooms, chunks of fresh mozzarella, pepperoni, salami, and even walnuts.

Obviously, my life is so devoid of flavor that I obsess on food. At least I don't drink.

October 22, 2007

The following post is by MYRLN, a non-blogger who is Kalilily Time's guest writer every Monday.

IMAGINATION?

The latest episode of SOUTH PARK was part one of a trilogy around a main theme of a nature that hilariously out-smuts much of the show's previous smutty themes. But the smut-driven alleged main theme is really secondary to the show's thoroughly insightful and satirical treatment of the supposed "war on terror" as our dubious prez Dumbya likes to articulate it. ("Articulate" is used in its loosest sense there -- oh, and by the way, doesn't "war on terror" mean fighting feelings of fear?)

In any case, what this SOUTH PARK trilogy pursues and characterizes is the stupidity surrounding so much of this "war." We -- as pseudo-residents of South Park -- are informed that Muslim terrorists have successfully attacked and hijacked our imagination. It is only a matter of time, we are further told, before our imagination starts running wild. In all the words spoken and written since 9/11, none more accurately than those describe where indeed we have come to: imaginations run wild. Furthermore, we're also shown, terrorists have destroyed the barrier between the light and dark sides of imagination, allowing darkness to overwhelm good and innocence.

All of that's exactly what's happened to us and allows the lunacy we now confront daily to prevail.

We actually make believe it's not clear what constitutes torture. We have a man in the White House who believes he was honestly elected and that he can hold discussions with god. We have a government that actually thinks the U.S. Constitution is a debatable document and can be disregarded at a whim. Grade school kids who draw characters shooting at each other are suspended and referred for counseling -- no matter they're simply replicating fantasy scenes from cartoons and comic books. Guy on a college campus wears a helmet and bulletproof vest (perhaps as protection?) and is arrested then released but "warned about his outfit's appearance." A girl soccer player is told she can't wear her Muslim hair covering in a game "cuz people might misunderstand." More and more cameras are installed around city streets because of "this day and age." And for the same reason, government is allowed to spy on us and "detain" us as prisoners in total disregard of our constitutional rights.

And why is all this going on? Ask SOUTH PARK. Its smutty, supposed main theme of the trilogy is symbolic of what we're being asked -- and forced -- to do for fear of terrorists.

Part 2 of the trilogy airs Wednesday night at 10. Maybe they'll precede it with a repeat of part 1.

October 19, 2007

I have to admit it. Occasionally I'm a sucker for those "seen on tv" ads. Once in a while I get stung.

But not lately.

I am totally sold on the Swivel Sweeper. I make such good use of ours on our low-pile rugs and bare floors that I bought one for my daughter. My grandson has become the official family sweeper at his house. Even my mother can use it. The ads for this product tell the truth. It picks up everything from dust and cat hair to stepped-on Cheerios. This is not a paid advertisement. I'm just sharing info about something that actually works.

The other purchase I made is the Spin Spa, figuring I need all the access to relaxation that I can get. I liked it so much I ordered two more microderm abrasion heads, since that's the one I use most (you know, on that rough skin on elbows and knees).

Finally, while I won't put a bumper sticker on my car, I have put a car magnet or two on. IMHO, this site has the best ones. The one I have on my car right now appears at the end of this old post

So, now I'm thinking I might buy one of these:

There are hundreds more on that Stamp and Shout site. I could cover my whole car with them.

Maybe I'll just settle for this one:

October 18, 2007

I stole this right off Doug's blog. Even better than underground resistance is blatant above-ground resistance.

To quote Doug:

Progressives believe in justice, fairness and equality for all. Progressives believe in helping others out of a sense of altruism not a sense of duty to some mythical being in the sky, or worse yet an attempt to hoodwink the public into believing they give a shit and get their votes for doing so.

[snip]

ProPublica will be a very, very good asset for progressives. The right have every reason to fear. I hope every progressive blogger will keep an eye on this site and push their stories into every corner of the web in such a way that the MSM can not ignore the scandals that will be a result of ProPublica’s investigative journalism. Watch out MSM some real journalists are about to show you how it’s really done.

We can only hope.

October 16, 2007

The piece in The Oregonian reprinted in Truthout starts with:

In "1984," the novel that most baby boomers read in high school, George Orwell creates a theoretical modern-day government with absolute power - a state in which government, called the Party, monitors and controls every aspect of human life to the extent that even having a disloyal thought is against the law.

It ends with:

Al-Qaeda hates Americans of all creeds and races and will do whatever it can to destroy us and our way of life. James Madison warned, "If tyranny and oppression come to this land, it will be in the guise of fighting a foreign enemy." With the mightiest military and strongest technology on Earth, democracy can stand up to terrorism without becoming the mirror of our enemies.

In between is a documentation of just how bad things are.

It's happening here, folks. Big Brother Bush and all the rest of it.

It's gotten to the point where AOL, Microsoft, Yahoo et al have been preventing the delivery of information from Truthout

This is what Truthout reported in the document linked to above:

It is becoming increasingly apparent that the Free Email Services - all of them - are a morass. You are a commodity to these administrators and as far as they are concerned your rights are your problem, not theirs. If you are serious abut receiving TO, or any other content they are not supportive of, you are pretty much on your own. Bluntly stated: AOL, Microsoft, Yahoo and all of the domains they control restrict what you receive in your inbox. And it is at their discretion, not yours.

I know it's been said so often that it's not even shocking any more, but there's a real similarity here between us and the Germans in Hitler's Germany. Take me, for example. I see this stuff going on, but it's all going on outside my small sphere of influence. I have not really felt the effects -- on my own personal life -- of this wave of fascism

The difference, of course, is that we can still speak out. Which lots of us do.

I can't help wonder if we're being left alone to shout into the wind because those Big Brothers can pretty much ignore our noisiness and continuing doing what they've been doing. Who's to stop 'em?

I think of the citizens of Poland during World War II, who were betrayed by the Allies and left to survive the best they could. What the Poles did was form an Underground movement called "The Polish Secret State" that included both military and civilian participation.

The rationale behind the creation of the secret civilian authorities stemmed from the fact that the German and Soviet occupation of Poland was illegal. Hence all the institutions created by the occupying powers were regarded as illegal and parallel Polish underground institutions were set up following Polish law.

In a very real sense, we have an "occupying power" here in America that is destroying this country and what it has always stood for.

There's something to be said for an Underground State, for Solidarnosc, for an organized refusal to accept fascism, injustice, and the denial of citizen rights.

It's in my Polish blood, this refusal to submit. When the revolution comes, you know what side I'll be on.

October 15, 2007

The following post is by MYRLN, a non-blogger who is Kalilily's guest writer every Monday.

THIS IS YOUR COUNTRY...

...in bits and pieces.

A lady in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, was refused entrance to a courthouse 'til she removed her underwire bra which set off the security gate alarm. Gotta prevent them underwire bra bomber terrorists looking to take over Idaho and harming the baked potato crop.

Senator Hypocrita Clinton wants for us to make her Prez and turn the whole country over to her keeping when she couldn't see what was right there under her nose (figuratively speaking) when she was last in the White House.

A new Walmart under construction required the use of dynamite, so the company went to court and forced the owner of the adjoining property to vacate home and land in case of accident. No mention of forcing Walmart to guarantee no damage. Not every home is one's castle if Walmart's involved.

Latest lead concern involves lipstick. From cheapest to designer brands, lead showed up in all those tested. Perhaps this explains how so-called "fashion" designers convince women to stupidly subject themselves to shoes with 5-inch heels. Lead does affect the brain.

Thanks to a recent Parade Magazine, we know another reason why the U.S. is in trouble around the world. A list reveals about one-third of our ambassadors are non-diplomats. Their qualifications? Buddies with Bush. For example, ambassador to: Australia, Skull and Bones with Bush at Yale; Poland, close Yale friend; Hungary, dated Bush at Harvard Business School; China, fraternity brother at Yale; Japan, partner in Texas Ranger ownership; Sweden, prep school friend and frat brother at Yale; Belize, Yale roomie. Don't bother George with no qualifications crap.

Friday's New York Post graced its front cover and two inner pages with photos of a Brooklyn guy running around naked in Times Square. But he did have his cellphone so he could yak as he meandered.

Finally, a recent WGBH gift catalog included a tee-shirt inscribed with what it called Vegetable Psychiatric conditions. Among others, they included:
fennel retentive
hummus-cidal
garlic depressive
pea-ness envy

Yup, all sounds like U.S. all right.

October 14, 2007

While I am here ranting about my right to godlessness, my son, the OneTrueb!X, is posting some eloquent stuff about his "devout agnosticism."

He writes of hope and purpose and dignity and choice, and quotes something penned by the should-be-more-famous Joss Whedon:

And he offers something of his own well worth quoting:

Ah, this is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear him.

October 13, 2007

I got this in an email and tried it.

AND IT WORKED.

I'm one of those people who still sometimes figures on her fingers, so I'm reluctant to speculate about how it works. (But I do think it has something to do with the numbers you use to multiply, add, and subtract.)

The point of it all is that one can tell your age by your preferences for eating out. Try it. You'll like it:

Who are the people who sit around and make up these things!!

October 12, 2007

That's how the currency of the United States started out, you know -- without that godawful "in God We Trust" marking. That didn't start until during the Civil War, as some of the country's leaders decided to cave in to pressure from the rising "religious sentiment" of certain groups.

And that slogan on our paper money wasn't added until the 1960s. (See link above)

Now, onto the "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance.

[snip}

[snip]

[snjp]

And now, in the 21st century, Americans with political power continue to stuff religion down the throat of government because those with other kinds of power refuse to acknowledge the facts of history.

So, to those who claim god was a part of it all from the start, I say read up on your history. Check out the facts.

We don't need god to make us good Americans, good citizens, good people. If believing in your god helps you to be the best of these that you can be, well that's just great. For you.

As for me, I find inspiration, motivation, and hope in the best of the facts of our human history. Just the facts.

Back in the 70s, I was a pretty militant feminist. I can't help but imagine how great it would have been to have had a weblog back then.

My militancy then was about choice, in the broadest and narrowest and most personal sense of the concept. I wanted the right to make -- and have respected -- all of those choices that enabled me to be who I was and wanted to become. Problems only arose when others tried to impose their choices on me. Or I, on them.

(Now, let me add a caveat to all of this militancy by saying that in a marriage and in a family, often choices have to be negotiated because it is very rare that everyone in a relationship can have everything they want at the same time.)

I am still militant about choice.

It's understandable that people who choose the same ideas, ideals, beliefs, and faiths gravitate to one another, form affinity groups, clubs, societies, parishes. Problems arise when those affinity groups get militant about imposing their dogmas on others. That's true of prostelitizing atheists and agnostics as well as religious fundamentalists. A respect for choice requires tolerance.

I am obsessing on this because a family member sent me an email extolling the virtues of comments supposedly made by Ben Stein on a recent CBS Sunday Morning Program.

Interestingly enough, the emailed text of his supposed commentary was really a compilation of things he had said on several occasions. It helps to check on www.snopes.com to verify stuff you get in emails.

Stein's homey and (on-the-surface) seemingly caring comments lead the listener to dangerous conclusions. For example he asks the following question, which reminds me of the old "when did you stop beating your wife?" He asks:

Do you get his manipulation? Of course lots of us are fed up with the media focusing on the likes of Nick and Jessica. But where in America are people not allowed to worship god as they understand him?? Putting those two statements together makes the second seem as true as the first. And the good sheep follow the misguided and misguiding shepherd.

The first settlers of America came here to escape intolerance. They came because they wanted to be able to choose how to live their lives and not be forced to accept a view of the universe espoused by those in power. They fled from a country where the Church and State were one and the same. Ironically enough, they wound up recreating in the government of their own communities what they ran from to begin with. That tendency might be a basic human flaw, and that might well be why the crafters of our Constitution made such an effort to separate Church and State.

Our Constitution protects choices made within the limits of law, with no preference given to those who believe in a god or who belong to any organized religion. With no preference given to the dogmas and tenets of any religious group. The spirit of our Constitution is rooted in lawful -- not religious -- personal choice.

Problems arise when a powerful religious organization imposes their Church laws on the State's laws, when they forget their own biblical metaphorical admonition to "render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's."

Problems also arise when the god-fearing draw erroneous conclusions from partial facts. While some of our Constitution's framers were god-worshippers, there is no indication that they wanted to establish anything but a country that protected freedom of religion as well as freedom FROM religion.

If you want more documentation for this assertion, please check out my rant from just about three years ago, a post that received scholarly praise in an article no longer online, but quoted in one of my posts here.

There is a growing militancy among the god-less that needs to continue growing.

Choice and tolerance and respect.

Isn't that why America was founded in the first place??

October 11, 2007

Even on a misty moisty morning, the Mohonk Mountain House and its acreage -- both indoorrs and out -- is a magical place. The movie The Road to Wellville was filmed there, exploiting both the natural and constructed opulence of what now is more than just a resort for the wealthy.

Although, I have to say that there were more Beamers and Benzs than I've ever seen in one parking lot, including several Mercedes-Benz $100K G-500 SUVs. .

Actually, there were a lot more less ostentatious vehicles from which folks of every age, many in hiking boots and gear, came and went. The grounds were almost overrun with kids, and as we walked along the path on one side of the lake, we noticed a cabin in which a nature program for children was underway.

My daughter and her family had to leave for home that afternoon, so we arrived in the morning and explored the grounds before heading in for the sumptuous (and expensive) Sunday brunch. ( It was just the four of us, since my mom was feeling too sick to come, and my brother stayed at home with her.)

The main dining room overlooks a range of the Catskill Mountains, and we were seated close enough to the huge windows to enjoy the view, fog and all. There were a number of young children (including ours) piling up plates of tasty buffet items, the most popular of which, of course, was the chocolate fountain in which they dipped strawberries and other fruits and fingers.

The two older women from New York City sitting by the window cooed over my grandson and offered to take our photo with my daughter's camera if she would take one of them with theirs. They were up for the day as well and also making the most of what the brunch had to offer.

The hallways in the 19th century Victorian mansion that lead to the Mohonk House's main dining room are lined with portraits of "rich old white men," as my daughter commented. Actually we did notice a few colorful male faces, but those were few and far between and with names that looked Middle Eastern.

I'm hoping that my family will come visit again so that we can spend more time exploring Mohonk. Maybe not do brunch, but rather try the putting green, see the gardens in full bloom, take a paddle boat onto the lake. Maybe my grandson and son-in-law can fish, while my daughter adds to her collection of striking photos that she's already taken of the unique surroundings.There's a Picnic Lodge if we want to indulge our palates.

The website doesn't say how much a day pass is just to roam the grounds (not hike, not with these knees) and luxuriate in the beauty of it all. It doesn't even say if it has such a thing. Assuming that it does, I'm sure it will not be cheap. But it will be worth it to get out into that ear-popping mountain air and check out all the outdoor attractions that we couldn't get to this time.

As long as it doesn't rain.

October 10, 2007

When I have time, I read a variety of web sites and blogs, each for a different reason. Two of my favorite non-blog sites these days seem to reflect the yin and the yang of my personality, each grounding me on either end of the spectrum of my passions and interests.

If you check in here frequently, you must have noticed that I post poems that Jim Culleny sends out daily in emails. While Jim's site, No Utopia, started out as a blog, it has been transformed into an "Op Ed" type site that is a great place, not only to pick up tidbits of news and notions that work well as fodder for further blog postings but also to read insightful, creatively written, and painfully pointed commentary, sometimes his own and sometimes what he quotes from other sources.

This from Jim's take on the new Hessians:

Now, thanks to the recurring cycles of time and history, the ways of politics, and the surly nature of god, I'm blessed with 1st-hand knowledge of what Miss Altenhaus was trying to tell me. The Hessians were hired guns --German mercenaries employed by the British to defeat the Americans. But the scent I was getting off the Hessians had to do with the "hired gun" part. Ok, ok, Miss Altenhause, I get it. Today we call our Hessians, Blackwater --an apt identity if ever their was one.

And on evolution

Why is it more scandalous to take the position that we evolved through natural selection than that we got here via incestous relationships among Adam's and Eve's offspring?

Beats me.

And this as he quotes Andrew Sullivan on Hillary Clinton:

The conservative Washington Establishment is swooning for Hillary for a reason. The reason is an accommodation with what they see as the next source of power (surprise!); and the desire to see George W. Bush's invasion and occupation of Iraq legitimated and extended by a Democratic president (genuine surprise). Hillary is Bush's ticket to posterity. On Iraq, she will be his legacy. They are not that dissimilar after all: both come from royal families, who have divvied up the White House for the past couple of decades. They may oppose one another; but they respect each other as equals in the neo-monarchy that is the current presidency.

In addition, Jim occasionally offers the wisdoms of "Roshi Bob," an illusive man-of-the-moment, described by Jim here.

So, that's the yang of it.

As for the yin, wisewoman writer and elderbogger Marian Van Eyk McCain has a site that calls to the heart of women old enough to know. On her site, you will find:

A meeting place for women of age, maturity and wisdom.
A source of inspiration for women in - or about to enter - their 'Third Age'
A node in a vast, international network of wise women, spanning the globe
A forum for discussion - a place to voice your thoughts on aging and "sage-ing"
An advertisement for the simple life - a rediscovery of the sacred in the ordinary
An oasis on the spiritual journey

Marian also has a personal weblog that gives us glimpses into her day to day life.

What I really like most, however, is the Elderwoman Newsletter, "an e-zine for 21st century elderwomen committed to radical aliveness."

Ain't that just the yin/yang of it!

October 09, 2007

....to the doctor's this afternoon...mom is running a temperature, is congested. I think it's a sinus infection because she has a major post nasal drip and she says her eyes, ears, and even her teeth hurt.

No one here has gotten much sleep the last couple of nights, but we didn't want to take her to the emergency room because every time we do, it's an unbelievable trauma for her, both physically and mentally.

Geriatric patients need to be treated differently from younger patients, especially if they have dementia. I am wondering why hospitals don't have geriatric wards. After all, they do have pediatric wards, and the special emotional needs of young children are pretty similar to those of very old adults.

I don't know if the doctor will put her in the hospital, but I'm prepared if he does. I have copies of her medical cards and prescription drug lists packed as well as Excedrin for me. (Also, snacks, drinks, and books and knitting.) Whenever she's in the hospital, we stay there with her, even if we have to camp out in the waiting room.

I want to post about our day at the marvelous Mohonk Mountain House, but that will have to wait.

Right now, we're off and running, keeping her temperature down, propping her up so she can breathe, preparing for a few days not being here if that becomes the case. Chances are he will give her meds and send her home. I'm just concerned because she often refuses to swallow pills these days. Maybe he can give her liquid versions.

Just like for a child.

UPDATE:
-- No hospital, just a liquid antibiotic.
-- We also found out through an MRI, that she has a torn rotator cuff. Surgery is out of the question. We are looking into alternatives.
-- And now she seems to have an eye infection, so the next doc visit will be the opthamologist.
-- And then a CAT scan of her head to see if her headaches have anything to to with her brain. It should also tell us how much of her brain has atrophied.

Like Emily Dickinson, but for different reasons, my "...Life is over there -- Behind the Shelf..", behind the stacked boxes of yarn and rounded willow branches, between Wallace Stevens Collected Poems and The Shadow of the Shaman, under the Women's Book of Healing and The Book of Lilith, under the Pilates Power Ring and two dusty five pound weights, buried under pots of plants that need to be tended before the snows come.

Being the prime caregiver for someone with physical ailments is hard enough. Add the dementia roller coaster onto that, and Life gets shelved for long periods of time.

Except when I sneak in a few minutes to play Scrabulous on Facebook with a few blog buddies.

Or blog.

October 08, 2007

The following post is by MYRLN, a non-blogger who is Kalilily's guest writer every Monday.

ONCE UPON A.....

You finish it.

October 07, 2007

I will post about our day at the Mohonk Mountain House after I rest up from a weekend navigating the inner workings of the well-know sandwich between my 91 year old mom, who has caught a bad cold, and my funny and energetic five-year old grandson.

This is him thoroughly enjoying the strawberries that he dipped in the chocolate fountain and covered with whipped cream at the famous Mohonk (and, yes, expensive) Sunday Brunch. He's wearing the tie dyed t-shirt that I bought him at the Groovy Blueberry and mugging for the camera with his chocolate covered mouth.

I will post more after I download the rest of the photos and have a chance to REST!!

October 04, 2007

Tomorrow, my daughter, son-in-law, and grandson are coming to visit for a couple of nights. My mom, who rallied a little today, is looking forward to seeing them. I'm hoping she hangs onto her awareness long enough to go out to dinner with us on Saturday and to brunch on Sunday at the Mohonk Mountain House -- a treat for all of us who have never been there (mostly because it's outrageously expensive). I heard that Alan Alda and friends helicoptered up to there for his last birthday party.

I'm treating us all because we deserve it. Especially me.

October 03, 2007

The BBC podcast on atheism brought home several points for me that I suppose I should have already realized.

Atheists can be as obnoxiously fundamentalist and militant as any religious zealots. I think that in my 20s, 30s and 40s, I was borderline obnoxious and confrontational about my lack of "faith." While I've become even more convinced that my atheist position is appropriately valid, I have become more tolerant of those who don't agree with me. See, maybe wisdom does come with age.

My contributions to the BBC discussion ended about a third of the way through the program, but I was rather pleased to hear other, later, participants refer to things that I said.

Some of the more militant atheists insist that the world would be a better place without religions, since so much of the historical intolerance, genocide, hate, war, and persecution were (and are) done in the name of one religion or another.

In general, I don't disagree with that position, but I also recognize that there is a need in many people for the solace and purpose that religion can offer, a way to feel more secure in what otherwise can seem a random and chaotic universe. So, I doubt if there's any chance of ridding this world of its various religions.

What would help considerably, however, is if religion became something personal instead of institutional; if each individual understood about the range of belief and (non-belief) systems on this planet that provide a "moral compass;" if each individual could choose the ethical/moral system of beliefs that work for her or him and not have one imposed by culture or family.

One discussion participant taught in a Jewish elementary school, and when asked if it would be possible to enable children to learn about other religions as part of the school curriculum, the teacher responded in the negative.

The purpose of Catholic schools and Jewish schools etc., is to indoctrinate children with the dogma of the religious sect while they are also being taught the academic subjects. I should know. I went to Catholic schools from kindergarten through high school. We had a required course in "Apologetics" so that we could defend our religious positions to non-believers.

I think we can assume that each family has the right to teach its children the values, beliefs, and culture that the family holds dear. No government should interfere with that right of every parent.

And it is in the schools that children should learn about other religions, other mythologies, other cultures. They should be encouraged to question and think critically and come to conclusions that take into account their own personal hunger for spiritual nourishment, their appetites for awe, and their need to feel connected to something greater than themselves.

Personally, as an atheist, all of those yearnings, for me, are satisfied by the awesomeness of the natural world, the complexities of human creativity, and the drama and mysteries that science continuous to reveal. This world, this life, is enough. I long ago discovered that notions of god get in the way of living and loving authentically and honestly.

One of the atheists in the discussion offered a challenge something like this (and I'm paraphrasing):

Can you name an ethical statement or moral action done by a believer that any non-believer couldn't make as well. He maintains that you can't.

Can you name a wicked action or wicked statement undertaken by a believer that any unbeliever could make. He maintains that you can't.

Think about it.

I remain, godless on this awesome mountain.

She has stopped eating unless I feed her (except for coffee and homemade sweet bread) and she sleeps almost all of the time. And she doesn't talk. And she cries.

Yesterday, I got her to tell me why she was crying. "I'm afraid," she muttered, devoid of energy, of purpose. She was sitting at the kitchen table, slumped over and still.

"Are you afraid of dying?" I ask. She nods. "Are you afraid of being alone? I ask again because she used to articulate this fear often. She continues to nod, her eyes half closed and unfocused.

"Mom?" I say, trying to get her attention, getting on my knees to try to look into her eyes.

"Mom," I continue, you don't have to be afraid of being alone. If you think you're dying, remember that everyone in your family is up in heaven waiting for you. Your mother and father [she's begun calling for her momma], your husband, all of your brothers and sisters. They are all there waiting for you. You won't be alone."

Of course, I don't believe any of that, but she does, and that's what's important. In younger years, I would argue vehemently with my parents about my unbelief. That was then.

I see her take a breath.

"And if you keep living, you are not alone here either," I add. " I am here. Your son is here. You granddaughter and her family are coming to visit you this weekend. We all love you and you are not alone."

She slumps in her chair.

"Do you want to go back to sleep," I ask.

She nods.

She sleeps.

My brother refuses to believe that it's possible for a body that is more than 91 years old to just wear down, wear out. He wants her to get her blood tested, get a CAT scan of her head, which she is often rubbing on the right side. He wants something else to be wrong. Something than can be fixed.

I am ready to let her go. I think she is ready to let go. He does not want to let her go.

She cries.

A poignant hope of a poem, one of Jim Culleny's daily poetry sends:

Fat is Not a Fairytail
Jane Yolen

I am thinking of a fairy tale,
Cinder Elephant,
Sleeping Tubby,
Snow Weight,
where the princess is not
anorexic, wasp-waisted,
flinging herself down the stairs.

I am thinking of a fairy tale,
Hansel and Great,
Repoundsel,
Bounty and the Beast,
where the beauty
has a pillowed breast,
and fingers plump as sausage.

I am thinking of a fairy tale
that is not yet written,
for a teller not yet born,
for a listener not yet conceived,
for a world not yet won,
where everything round is good:
the sun, wheels, cookies, and the princess.

October 02, 2007

As a result of my previous post about atheism, BBC radio contacted me and asked me to be part of the broadcast debate on "should children be brought up without religion?"

They asked me to make the first statement, which, of course, I was glad, but not prepared, to do. I didn't know who the other debaters would be, and it turned out that most were clerics, scholars, writers, heads of organizations, both religious and atheist, from all over the world. They kept bringing on new debaters and siphoning off some of us earlier ones.

The program might be repeated and/or it might be on podcast. You can check it out here, where the best comment left, as far as I'm concerned, is #14.

ADDENDUM:
You can listen to the broadcast or download it here.

"Do you still have 'faith'?" she asked the two of us who were sitting on either side of her at our table.

"No," I answered. Just that. No.

Under other circumstances, I might have carried on about my perspective on the value of godlessness, my decades-long exploration of what some call the world of the spirit, my opinionated take on the evils of organized religion. But for the two other women, who had suffered the tragedy of losing young adult children to the fickleness of fate, the loss of their faith was something much more personal and much more painful.

Tonight on NBC Nightly News, Brian Williams ended his program with a piece that indicated atheism is on the rise.

The Washington Post also had a article a few days ago that begins with this:

BURGESS HILL, England -- Every morning on his walk to work, high school teacher Graham Wright recited a favorite Anglican prayer and asked God for strength in the day ahead. Then two years ago, he just stopped.

Wright, 59, said he was overwhelmed by a feeling that religion had become a negative influence in his life and the world. Although he once considered becoming an Anglican vicar, he suddenly found that religion represented nothing he believed in, from Muslim extremists blowing themselves up in God's name to Christians condemning gays, contraception and stem cell research.

Wright is now an avowed atheist and part of a growing number of vocal nonbelievers in Europe and the United States. On both sides of the Atlantic, membership in once-quiet groups of nonbelievers is rising, and books attempting to debunk religion have been surprise bestsellers, including "The God Delusion," by Oxford University professor Richard Dawkins.

New groups of nonbelievers are sprouting on college campuses, anti-religious blogs are expanding across the Internet, and in general, more people are publicly saying they have no religious faith.

Another Washington Post article includes these statements:

Focusing fresh attention on atheism in the United States was the publication last week of a book about Mother Teresa that lays out her secret struggle with her doubts about God. "Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light" has led some high-profile atheists to say that her spiritual wavering was actually atheism.

"She couldn't bring herself to believe in God, but she wished she could," said Christopher Hitchens, a Washington-based columnist and author of "God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything," the latest atheist bestseller.

Nontheist is another term for atheist, or someone who does not believe in a supreme being.

A study released in June by the Barna Group, a religious polling firm, found that about 5 million adults in the United States call themselves atheists. The number rises to about 20 million -- about one in every 11 Americans -- if people who say they have no religious faith or are agnostic (they doubt the existence of a God or a supreme deity) are included.

I deprogrammed myself from my Catholic brainwashing soon after I set foot in my first college philosophy course. At the same time I was losing religion, my roommate was converting to Catholicism because she was marrying a Catholic. I remember going with her to a Newman Club meeting, where I asked the chaplain: "If I live life as a good, compassionate, caring person but I don't believe in god, will I go to hell?"

Of course, his answer was "No, but...."

I never heard the rest of his answer because I left the room, recognizing the conundrum of my question and not expecting an answer that made any more sense than "faith."

My children were brought up godless and good, and they remain so. As do I. Well, the godless part, anyway.

Go here for an overview of the godless in America.

October 01, 2007

The following post is by MYRLN, a non-blogger who is Kalilily's guest writer every Monday.

ANTI-SEMITISM

Yes, they are