While she sleeps, I blog, wash dishes, water my plants, brush my cat, start going through my papers for tax time.
She takes several naps a day, now. Eats, goes to the bathroom, sleeps, eats……. “You’re my mother,” she says to me.
While I’m sorting through my mounds of unfiled statements, receipts, and slips of paper I can’t remember why I saved, I come upon my ID badge from high school. It’s my senior year photo. 1957. My thumbprint is on the back. It’s a Civil Defense ID. It might be the only record of my thumbprint in case something happens to me and the only thing left is my thumb.
I also find a rubber-banded collection of ID badges from my various jobs with the NY State Ed Department. I look at how I’ve changed over the years.

At 57 I was ballroom dancing three nights a week and weighing in at 135 lbs. At 47, I was disco dancing into the wee hours and weighing in at 125 lbs. At 17, I was biking, walking, dancing, and was 105 lbs.
It’s 2007. Extrapolating from the above, you would assume I would be 145 lbs. If only.
There’s a Curves in town, and I’ve decided it’s time to insist on time away from her, asleep or awake, to do something for myself. Like many people my age, I have degenerating disks, and I’ve just had several days of those periodic shooting pains that one gets with that condition. Exercise is the recommended treatment. I already take the suggested supplements. I’ve got to get off my butt and move it.
These days, as Ronni reports, being in one’s sixties is not being old. My mother is old, and chances are that I will live to be that old.
And then it will be my turn to eat, go to the bathroom, and sleep, eat,…….
Although today it’s so beautiful out, that took my mother for a walk up and down the driveway and then we sat in the sun.
Now she’s sleeping. I’m blogging. And then I’ll shred some of those old files I’ve been wading through. (It’s not surprising that Ronni has just blogged about being inundated with paper). And then I’ll figure out what to feed us for supper. And then I’ll do the dishes.
And then she’ll sleep. And I’ll take two Advil. Maybe three.

Below are some news tidbits you might have missed — or, if you didn’t — are worth repeating for various ironic and absurd reasons. You can find out more, including the sources for the items by going here.

Some very “interesting” news came out too late for this weeks Harper’s Weekly. I can’t wait to see how this whole thing plays out:

If only.

When you turn on the national and international news these days, no matter what channel/perspective you watch, you can’t help wondering exactly what the truth is.
Why don’t they just give a lie detector test to Bush and Cheney, and Tony Snow, and Libby and Howard K. Stern and whoever else might well be lying? And how about all of those supposed terrorists held at Gitmo? Couldn’t we have avoided all of that mess that we got ourselves into by, instead, hooking them all up (one at a time, of course) to a polygraph??
Well, I guess it’s not that simple, and a friend of mine from college, who was a polygraph operator for the CIA in Viet Nam, has a new book coming out next month that deals with that subject: Gatekeeper: Memoirs of a CIA Polygraph Examiner
Excerpted from the book description at Amazon:

John’s first book was Of Spies and Lies: A CIA Lie Detector Remembers Vietnam. According to one reviewer, who also says This book is so good I have added it to the select list of intelligence reform books recommended by the Council on Intelligence:

While John was discovering painful truths about Viet Nam, an eventually-to-be friend of mine was a student in college protesting that war. I met him years later when he became my therapist, my mentor, and a good friend.
Today, Ed Tick, through his Sanctuary: A Center for Mentoring the Soul, is doing groundbreaking work in helping individuals, particularly soldiers, to deal with PTSD. He currently is featured on the website of Voices in Wartime for his grassroots project Soldier’s Heart.
Ed’s books, War and the Soul and Sacred Mountain: Encounters With the Vietnam Beast force us to look deep into the dark destruction that war rages on the very center of our humanness and sanity.
Both John and Ed use their experiences and their narrative talents to expose truths about war and its trappings that most of us would not have a chance to learn about. They know what’s true. Believe me.

A blogger in Saudi Arabia tells of a scam that takes us back to the fantasies of men in the Middle Ages — and in their middle ages — when the virginity of their women was one of their prized possessions.
Read Lori’s post in her blog, Sand Gets in My Eyes, where she reports:

According to Peaceful Muslimah, the soaps are indicative of a larger problem in the Middle East (and likely other parts of the world), where a woman’s virginity is her most important asset.” Unfortunately in many Muslim societies, as well as non-Muslim underdeveloped nations, there is an extreme pressure brought to bear on women’s chastity. As I recently discussed here, lack of chastity or even the perception of it can lead to fatal consequences. So is it any wonder that Muslim women are willing to go to extraordinary measures to maintain the appearance of the virginal bride on their honeymoon.”

[snip]
I did some checking, and the soaps are readily available throughout the world, thanks in large part to the internet. The idea is that the soap’s astringents “constrict and tighten” , creating that coveted “look and feel” of virginity.
One manufacturer boasts their product is….”Used and enjoyed by hundreds of thousands of women in the Middle East and Asia, it has brought back youthful passions, rekindled sensual yearnings, and completely intensified sexual experience.”
Ha! What a lot of bunk!

Her entire post includes more links and info. It would be great if others would post about this issue as well.n I have cross-posted it at Blog Sisters.

At various times in my life I have made the statement that I’d like to be either famous or infamous. I didn’t care which. I’ve always known that my cavalier attitude was part of my rebellion against the constant maternal caution not to embarrass her, not to call attention to myself in any negative way.
Of course, there were also times in my life when I’ve stifled myself — you know, the expectations of family, employers. The need to keep being paid a salary is a great motivator to behave.
The great thing about combining retirement and blogging is that I no longer have to worry about keeping a job, and I have a forum wherein I can risk becoming either famous or infamous. (Not that I’m either, or expect to be either. But I’m free to not care — unless I choose to — if someone doesn’t find me acceptable.)
I no longer have to worry about my “permanent record,” unlike the two bloggers who resigned from John Edward’s presidential campaign because of something they posted on their blogs.
Reid Stott over at photodude.com has a realistic post about the situation in which those bloggers found themselves, explaining:

It’s like the phenomenon of someone who was “fired for their blog.” No, they were fired for saying or doing something they shouldn’t have. It just happened to be in their blog. But a blog is not a buffer from the real world. Your words there count just as if you’d said them to someone’s face, with the difference that they are archived for a very very long time

Rafe Colburn, in his post on “your permanent record,” adds another dimension to the issue:

This certainly comes into play when I’m involved with hiring people. I can find out more about anyone from their blog archives than I can by interviewing them. In interviews, people usually tell the interviewer what they think they want to hear. In other contexts, they are usually less circumspect. When I find I may work with someone, I look for blog posts, messages to mailing lists, comments on blogs, Usenet rants from a decade ago, and anything else I can find. There’s more to anyone than their persona on the Internet, but more information is almost always better than less.

All true. All true.
But not for me because I’m retired, and I’m wearing purple.

I like to play at taking pictures. This one I took on my walk yesterday. “Snow sculpture,” I thought.

It’s not a great photo, but, as I said, it’s one of the ways I play.
Taking really good photos — unique, creative, aesthetic — is both an art and a craft.
b!X has become very good at it.
So has my daughter, who has just launched her online photo business, 1505 Photovisions. Among her many subjects are the birds of Western Massachusetts, and she plans to offer a series of notecards with their images.
Check out her online gallery, and if you know anyone looking for photos or photo notecards, send them her way.

No, I’m not talking about Dumbya this time.
I don’t know why I hadn’t heard about this before, but I just followed a link from Jeneane’s post dealing with education and found out about Julie Amero, the seventh grade substitute teacher in Connecticut who is facing 40 years in prison after pornographic popup ads came up on her computer screen during a class in 2004.
Karoli at Odd Time Signatures explains the case, including the following:

When I first read about this story, Amero was on trial. I assumed that the defense would show that the ads were clearly the result of a spyware/adware infection and she would be acquitted. My shock went deep (along with just about everyone with an ounce of understanding about how malware works) when she was convicted of multiple counts of exposing children to pornography. My outrage is just as keen, knowing that she was not permitted to introduce evidence of a malware attack because the defense failed to do so at the pretrial phase.

Amero and her husband are broke. A sad result of these specious accusations and mockery of a trial: Amero was 4 months pregnant when she was arrested, and lost her baby as a result of the stress. A miscarriage of justice, truly.

Karoli’s post links to a site that quotes the following from an article published in the New York Times:

Brian Livingston, editorial director of Windows Secrets, an electronic newsletter about the Microsoft program, said in an interview, “Prosecutors should be chasing the maker of these spyware programs, not hapless teachers who have nothing to do with the images.”

Ms. Amero’s husband, Wes Volle, was emphatic in saying she was clueless about computers and was in over her head once the pop-ups began. Mr. Volle, a graphics designer, accused the school system of sacrificing his wife to deflect attention from its own failure to install effective filters on its computers.

The ignorance that permeates this case is layers deep, and at the bottom is the defense lawyer who obviously didn’t understand the fundamental relevance of how internet technology works and apparently never brought it up at pre-trial. And, for a school administration to be that ignorant of howproblems with internet technology can run rampant is truly a dereliction of duty.
An artcle on alternet.net explains the problem clearly:

Adware, spyware and other infectious software are known hazards to security and privacy — and when lax cybersecurity meets anti-porn hysteria, a mailware infection can even land you in jail. Malicious coders are getting more sophisticated all the time, but law enforcement and the criminal justice system aren’t keeping up. A criminal conviction can hang on the difference between a deliberate mouse click and an involuntary redirect on an infested computer. Too often, even so-called experts can’t tell the difference.

There is a website to help Julie Amero and her husband raise the money that they need for their defense against the kinds of powerful people who are so ignorant about what is perhaps the most significant technological/educational/cultural phenonemon of this generation that their stupidity results in a tragic miscarriage of justice.
I have become used to people I know in real life not knowing much about the Internet and not knowing anything about blogging. But they aren’t lawyers or teachers or school administrators. They join AOL and learn what icons to click to use their email account occasionally. They are, as it’s said, out of the loop, and they don’t care. It’s all just too complicated for them to bother with.
But the people with power to destroy the lives of others because of their ignorance — well, it’s time they start caring and start learning.

The lesson we can take from

her life is to be open to wonder,

to look at the world as she did

at the end of her life, as a

garden of possibility.

The quote above is from the end of The Queen of the Big Time, a novel by Adriana Trigiani.
I have finished all but one of Trigiani’s novels, and this last one, Roccoco, is next on my reading list.
You don’t have to be Italian to find yourself immersed in Trigiani’s families, but if you have strong ties to any European immigrant culture, her stories are bound to resonate with you.
Trigiani creates characters that are neither heroes nor harlots. In their struggling humanness they are a compelling reminder that life is what it is, despite what we might have dreamed or hoped. And yet that can be OK too.

[The garden image above is used with permission from the photographer, Melissa Volker]

According to a piece in my local newspaper yesterday, sea lions and dolphins are being trained to by the Navy “to detect and apprehend waterborne attackers” who may be tempted to float by naval bases without benefit of a boat.
The piece, reflecting what was reported here, goes on to say that

…sea lions have been trained to carry special “cuffs” in their mouths, attached to long ropes. If the animal discovers what the Navy calls a “rogue swimmer,” the arresting sea lion officer can clamp the cuff around the swimmer’s leg. “The individual can then be reeled in for questioning…”

I’m just thinking — suppose those sea creatures are even more intelligent than we supposed. What if they decide we’re not the good guys.
My local paper also had a short article (also reported here) about a partially mummified man’s body being found in a chair in front of his still-on television set. Apparently he had been dead for more than a year. A report from someone about a burst pipe brought police to the residence. What a world!
And, tucked onto the travel page is a bit about the city of Paris starting it’s own blog, www.voiceofacity.com, where 10 Parisians give visitors their insiders view of the City of Light.
And now, back to the “what a world!” perspective, here in New York State, the number of moral conduct cases against teachers has doubled over the past five years. Full story here.
They say that all kinds of “immoral” conduct has always gone on, only there weren’t the kinds of mass media capacities for instantaneous comunication before. And mistreated individuals feel freer to speak up these days. Maybe that’s all true, but I still think we are a civilization on the downslide, taking with us the natural processes that keep this planet alive. We are doing our part to rev up the Big Entropy on the way to the Big Whimper.

The cousins. Fourteen of them representing three generations. They came, yesterday, for a birthday lunch with my mother, who turns 91 today.
They came with flowers and cookies and photographs. They came with delicious Polish babka, three kinds of home made pierogi, and good spirits, wishes, and love.
We notice that we are mostly female — not suprising, since we have always known that our clan is a matriarchy. The only males at the party were my brother, a first cousin, and a cousin by marriage (who took a videotape of the rest of us gathered around my mother singing both Happy Birthday and Sto Lat. ) Only the older ones of us remember the words to Sto Lat, the Polish version of “may you live a hundred years.” When my generation is gone, so will go the memory of those words. Our kids have married into other nationalities — great for genes, not necessarily so for native traditions and languages.
We were a noisy group, but then we always are when we get together. My mother, being somewhat deaf, couldn’t sort out background from foreground conversations; she sat in her favorite rocking chair and watched and smiled.
She is the oldest of her clan. Here is a photo of her with the youngest in attendance, her great grandniece, Olivia.

Today, she’s very tired, a little disoriented. She keeps reading through her birthday cards, crying because she misses my dad.
I have blogged before about how, as I get older, my ties to my family become stronger. Before my cousins left for home yesterday, we shared emails, vowed to get together at least several times a year. My mother is the last of her sibling generation, which, when they were all alive, held family gatherings at the drop of a hat.
Now it’s up to us. The cousins.