Yes, it is snowing! And wonder of wonders our satellite internet is still connected! All during the rain showers it wasn't working but during the snow it is? Ohhhh, the snow clouds are coming from a different direction? Whatever! I have internet and its snowing. AHHHH! Magic.
Great story over on CCM. I remember hearing about that and it reminds me of when we took our first two children, a daughter and son, sledding, somewhere on one of the logging roads. Bart and I with Bart's sisters, Janice and Joyce and their husbands, Jim and Brian, respectively.
We arrived at the spot and built a large bonfire from dried wood brought from home and added wood from downed trees left there for the wood cutters with permits. Snow was thick on the ground and draping each tree like baptismal gowns. Everything was glittering and "pristine" just as a woods decked in new fallen snow is supposed to be. That is, before you begin sledding on it.
I believe we had one sled and then an inner tube for each one of us. Sleds are supposedly easier to steer, however for some it is like the difference between a manual and a shift. A tube is like a manual, hands on it responds better and you have more control over it. You lean one way and it goes that way, lean the other and it goes that way. Lean forward and it goes faster, drag your feet and it slows. Yeah, sometimes it spins but that's what makes it funnnn!
So, we head up to the top of the hill and form this long chain with the sled in front and the inner tubes following, each holding on to the feet of the person in front. We are laughing at the impossibility of hanging on to each other as we get going real fast and end up flying apart, banking around the corner of a snow bank to come to a rest on the flat a short distance from the bonfire.
Each time we took a run in this manner we were making the run smoother, slicker. After about four runs we decide we are done with the sled trains and we are going to go down singly. The children, Katrina and Matthew, clamour to go first on the sled. For some reason, six adults figure this is a mighty fine idea, there could not possibly be any repercussions from two children plummeting down this logging road on their own trying to steer this sled.
We did have the good sense not to start them off as high up on the hill as we had been starting for the sled train but it was still about halfway up the hill. Our logic was that we wanted them to have a good, fast memorable ride. Yes, they still remember it, vividly. Although, not sooo fondly. I, on the otherhand, can hardly recall it without peeing my pants. Laughter, accompanied with peeing of pants is always good news although not necessarily so for the pee-er.
You see, in my family we greet disasters with laughter. Nervous, uncontrollable, laughter. One time, story for another blog entry, my mother lost her face ( literally) and when my sister was telling us about it she was laughing so hard on the phone as soon as I heard her voice I almost fainted. Laughter on a phone call, in our family, is baaaad news.
On the other hand, we laugh at near misses, too, and we laugh for fun. You just have to learn how to interpret the sound. Belly laughter or squeals or high peals nearing lunacy? The day of the sledding accident was belly laughter although my daughter swears it should have been high peals as it was the day she lost her ability to be a teen model.
My son was in front steering, he did and does continue to have the quicker reflexes, with our daughter sitting in back. They started down the hill and it quickly became apparent that it was much too slick and they had started up much too high. They were headed for the banking corner and there was no way they were going to make it, Matthew just didn't have enough experience to make the turn. They hadn't learned to work together, in tandem, leaning into the turn.
"Jump," we all screamed, "jump!"
As they shot by, my daughter turned her head to us, "HEEEEEEELLLLLPPPPP!" she wailed, ever so pathetically. My son kept his head forward, focusing intently on the run, not realizing yet that he couldn't make the turn without the full participation of his sledding challenged sister who was rigid with fear behind him.
They hit the bank and sailed over it up, up into the air landing in a pine tree and bending it backwards. In turn it sprang forward, again launching them into the air where they cartwheeled over and over until they landed in a snow bank. It was the most athletic thing I had ever seen my daughter do. Matthew, having played football and baseball, knew how to lay there, moaning, however his sister sprang up instantly, hopping from one foot to the other. "I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home, NOW!" she was screaming, over and over.
Katrina literally looked like she had run into a porcupine or a cactus bush. She had needles sticking out of her coat and her snow pants and her gloves. She had needles sticking out of her cheeks, and her nose, and even out of her eyelids. And she was hopping back and forth, from foot to foot and her horrible, horrible mother was laughing so hard she couldn't even comfort her. "I broke my nose," she wailed! "My eyes are blinded," she sobbed! And the more she said the harder I laughed.
I was laughing so hard at my poor children my sisters-in-law thought I had put something into the hot chocolate. They checked it before pouring some for my daughter. Then, they began plucking her, which set me off again. When I finally regained my composure Katrina wouldn't let me hug her, for some reason finding little comfort in my arms! I was voted bad mommy for the day and not allowed any hot chocolate.
To this day Katrina doesn't find this story funny in the least. Just ask her. She's the new part time librarian at CCC. She'll just love it that you read this story. But tell her you think I'm an awesome mom.
Oh, we homeschooled and the lesson for that day was when to trust and when to use your own judgement(sarcasm). At least that's the lesson I was trying to convey, I wonder what they learned? They both have travelled the world and Katrina got her first degree before she was 22 (Matthew's still enjoying college). She said it was because I always made it easy to leave home. I wonder what she meant by that?
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Women like apples, Men like wine
I was emailed a joke by a sister-in-law a while back:
Although this joke did illicit a chuckle from me it also has made me think. Why do we feel the need to put down one gender to elevate the other? I think I am even appalled at myself for the giggle. I know when I read it to my husband he was a bit puzzled at what I found humorous. I think it was just the unexpectedness of the ending. I think.
Today is the UN's International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. From now until Dec 10, Human Rights Day, is a 16 day campaign to call attention to the violence happening to females, worldwide. According to its website:
I do not know whether to be frightened or encouraged by this campaign. Encouraged that the violence is being acknowledged and a demand is being made to do something about it. Frightened that, in this day and age, this type of violence is still ongoing.
The statistics compiled show that violence is a major cause of death in women aged 16-44! Then this:
I am stunned by this. How could we allow this to happen, today? If we don't care about ourselves, how could we allow this to happen to our daughters? How do we raise sons that beat our daughters? For these types of numbers to be actuated it means we have, some how, created an "environment" that encourages this kind of violence! Isn't that terrifying? I want to weep. When we waste so many resources fighting a "war" on terrorism and such precious few on the terrorism of half our population. What is it that we are doing as a society that creates the impression that beating our daughters is okay? If we don't care about the women themselves then you would think the insurance industry would care about the dollars being spent from their coffers. You'd think industries would be howling at the loss of $1.8 billion in income. You'd think Internal Revenue Services would alert the appropriate state departments, letting them know the revenue missing on $1.8 billion of taxable income which is now totally lost! Where are our economists to howl over this lost income to our overall economy?
Could it be that our medical community wants $4.1 billion in income that they can't otherwise obtain? Is it that desperate for a steady source of income? What would the hospitals' incomes be if that were taken out of their grasps?
Too far of a reach? Too outlandish of a conspiracy theory? Then what is it, why are we allowing this violence to be perpetuated, generation after generation?
The joke forwarded by my sister-in-law gives the impression that women have the strong, upperhand in dealing with the imbalances in the gender issue. The numbers don't bear that out. Who is going to save our daughters while our government is off saving countries that don't want to be saved, "in the name of democracy"?
In the name of democracy why don't we work on the terrorism between our own borders? It is enough to make me weep in despair. What kind of violent tomorrow are we asking our daughters to step into? What kind of man are we making of our sons?
Maybe we are stomping too hard, too often at too early of an age? Maybe he is just being taught to stomp back, harder?
Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree.
Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt.
Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy. The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right person to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.
Now men.... Men are like a fine wine.
They begin as grapes, and it's up to women to stomp the shit out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with!
Although this joke did illicit a chuckle from me it also has made me think. Why do we feel the need to put down one gender to elevate the other? I think I am even appalled at myself for the giggle. I know when I read it to my husband he was a bit puzzled at what I found humorous. I think it was just the unexpectedness of the ending. I think.
Today is the UN's International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. From now until Dec 10, Human Rights Day, is a 16 day campaign to call attention to the violence happening to females, worldwide. According to its website:
The 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence is an international campaign originating from the first Women's Global Leadership Institute in 1991. Participants chose the dates, November 25, International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, and December 10, International Human Rights Day, in order to symbolically link violence against women and human rights and to emphasize that such violence is a violation of human rights. The 16 Days Campaign has been adopted as an organizing strategy by individuals and groups around the world to call for the elimination of all forms of violence against women.
I do not know whether to be frightened or encouraged by this campaign. Encouraged that the violence is being acknowledged and a demand is being made to do something about it. Frightened that, in this day and age, this type of violence is still ongoing.
The statistics compiled show that violence is a major cause of death in women aged 16-44! Then this:
The economic cost of violence against women is considerable — a 2003 report by the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) estimates that the costs of intimate partner violence in the United States alone exceed US$5.8 billion per year: US$4.1 billion are for direct medical and health care services, while productivity losses account for nearly US$1.8 billion.
I am stunned by this. How could we allow this to happen, today? If we don't care about ourselves, how could we allow this to happen to our daughters? How do we raise sons that beat our daughters? For these types of numbers to be actuated it means we have, some how, created an "environment" that encourages this kind of violence! Isn't that terrifying? I want to weep. When we waste so many resources fighting a "war" on terrorism and such precious few on the terrorism of half our population. What is it that we are doing as a society that creates the impression that beating our daughters is okay? If we don't care about the women themselves then you would think the insurance industry would care about the dollars being spent from their coffers. You'd think industries would be howling at the loss of $1.8 billion in income. You'd think Internal Revenue Services would alert the appropriate state departments, letting them know the revenue missing on $1.8 billion of taxable income which is now totally lost! Where are our economists to howl over this lost income to our overall economy?
Could it be that our medical community wants $4.1 billion in income that they can't otherwise obtain? Is it that desperate for a steady source of income? What would the hospitals' incomes be if that were taken out of their grasps?
Too far of a reach? Too outlandish of a conspiracy theory? Then what is it, why are we allowing this violence to be perpetuated, generation after generation?
The joke forwarded by my sister-in-law gives the impression that women have the strong, upperhand in dealing with the imbalances in the gender issue. The numbers don't bear that out. Who is going to save our daughters while our government is off saving countries that don't want to be saved, "in the name of democracy"?
In the name of democracy why don't we work on the terrorism between our own borders? It is enough to make me weep in despair. What kind of violent tomorrow are we asking our daughters to step into? What kind of man are we making of our sons?
Maybe we are stomping too hard, too often at too early of an age? Maybe he is just being taught to stomp back, harder?
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Let the Holidays Begin
I started to post this on Oct 19th, however, we kept loosing our internet connection so it has taken this long to post. I will now try to catch up on my journaling. I really wanted to keep on this, atleast on a weekly basis. The best intentions, sigh.
Thursday, October 19th, at sunset, Bahá'ís began celebrating the Anniversary of the Birth of the Báb. For me, October is the beginning of the year. From here through May there are holidays to plan, decorate and celebrate.
I love being a Bahá'í for the obvious reasons of recognizing the Blessed Beauty, and also for the lesser things, such as recognition that we all come from divers traditions and, as individuals, we are encouraged by Bahá'u'lláh to remember our traditions, if they are not in conflict with our laws, and to take pride in our homelands.
The way our family is composed and celebrates shows the wisdom in why Bahá'í communities really can’t follow all of the traditions of the world or nothing else would get done. In my family we have Euro-Christian traditions along with Asian and Indigenous tribal recent additions. Our holiday celebrations are endless. If you even tried to include individual birthdays we would be together 24/7 just celebrating! Given what Baha'u'llah says about what we should use the day for we should pretty much have all the problems of the world solved by now!
My year starts in October with the Anniversary of the Birth of the Báb on the 20th and then the US of A custom of Halloween on the 31st.
Anniversary of the Birth of the Bab celebration was so wonderful! We missed Alex (with baby David) and Mom, of course. Julie and Theo came up from Corvallis and Allison, Chris and baby Traven were here. Katrina, Marcus and dear Kaden came and Aimee made it just in time from Japan. Matthew didn't have to work, either, and so with Marshall, Steve, Sandy, David and Phyllis along with Joe, Al and Bryan the house was bursting. Turkey and all of the trimmings. Grandpa Roy's homemade cranberry relish lives on, and we used Grandma Bea's aprons as flour flew, veggies were chopped and dippings whipped. SO much love in the kitchen.
Everyone wants to be in the kitchen. We need to knock out the wall to the green living room and just have a big kitchen! SIGH! I want my outdoor kitchen, too!
After celebrating that night, the next day we went to our orchard and then over to Joyce's orchard and picked apples. After gathering about 50 lbs of them we came home and started peeeling, and peeling, and peeling! Then we made tons of apple butter and jars of apples for pies and we still have bags of nice, sticky Kings for winter eating. Next week we start smoking fish and clam digging starts as well (actually, it started tonight either here or over in Long Beach). Our freezer is already full between two deer and 50 lbs of halibut. Where we will find room for the two elk my hunters are sure (haha) to bring home is something we will have to figure out then.
Julie and Theo had also brought up some berries and so we canned them along with the apples. Now we have rows and rows of preserves. A nice comfy feeling and one I so strongly remember from the days when this was Grandma's kitchen and pantry. Safety, a time away from cares. No worries. I hear Kaden's little voice, "Babika, well hi! Watcha doin?" and I see his momma at his same age standing in the same spot talking to my grandma on the anniversary of the Birth of the Bab! WOW! What a flashback. I hope she is looking at us, now, with a bit of a smile.
Oct 31st post
We didn't get to see Alex and baby David as they stayed in Tualitin, going to the light show and trick or treating there, so it was left to Kaden to entertain us. Poor Bart had to work clear down the coast so I took pics w/the cell phone. So cute as a cowboy with his horse! He loved talking to all the other tricker treaters. I caught up to them in front of Godfather's and then walked (and carried) Kaden back to my car by the Flavel House. Long walk with a horse, too! We took a break on the bench in front of, ummm, McMahons? No, a block further down by the old sandwich shop that had great soup but closed shop. When I sat Kaden down and propped the horse next to him, Kaden reached out and kissed it and people started, "Ooohing" and asked to take his picture. I, being the excellent grandma that I am not, did not have a camera so told them, "Sure, go ahead" belatedly remembering the class I had taken in my Gender Studies class less than four years ago! However, we have already shared his photo on our family site and anyone searching could find that and do what they want with the photos. Soon all of the sites will have the protection over being unable to download pictures, like many artists already have, but how sad that we will have to jump through hoops to get our own or family member's pics.
Thursday, October 19th, at sunset, Bahá'ís began celebrating the Anniversary of the Birth of the Báb. For me, October is the beginning of the year. From here through May there are holidays to plan, decorate and celebrate.
I love being a Bahá'í for the obvious reasons of recognizing the Blessed Beauty, and also for the lesser things, such as recognition that we all come from divers traditions and, as individuals, we are encouraged by Bahá'u'lláh to remember our traditions, if they are not in conflict with our laws, and to take pride in our homelands.
The way our family is composed and celebrates shows the wisdom in why Bahá'í communities really can’t follow all of the traditions of the world or nothing else would get done. In my family we have Euro-Christian traditions along with Asian and Indigenous tribal recent additions. Our holiday celebrations are endless. If you even tried to include individual birthdays we would be together 24/7 just celebrating! Given what Baha'u'llah says about what we should use the day for we should pretty much have all the problems of the world solved by now!
My year starts in October with the Anniversary of the Birth of the Báb on the 20th and then the US of A custom of Halloween on the 31st.
Anniversary of the Birth of the Bab celebration was so wonderful! We missed Alex (with baby David) and Mom, of course. Julie and Theo came up from Corvallis and Allison, Chris and baby Traven were here. Katrina, Marcus and dear Kaden came and Aimee made it just in time from Japan. Matthew didn't have to work, either, and so with Marshall, Steve, Sandy, David and Phyllis along with Joe, Al and Bryan the house was bursting. Turkey and all of the trimmings. Grandpa Roy's homemade cranberry relish lives on, and we used Grandma Bea's aprons as flour flew, veggies were chopped and dippings whipped. SO much love in the kitchen.
Everyone wants to be in the kitchen. We need to knock out the wall to the green living room and just have a big kitchen! SIGH! I want my outdoor kitchen, too!
After celebrating that night, the next day we went to our orchard and then over to Joyce's orchard and picked apples. After gathering about 50 lbs of them we came home and started peeeling, and peeling, and peeling! Then we made tons of apple butter and jars of apples for pies and we still have bags of nice, sticky Kings for winter eating. Next week we start smoking fish and clam digging starts as well (actually, it started tonight either here or over in Long Beach). Our freezer is already full between two deer and 50 lbs of halibut. Where we will find room for the two elk my hunters are sure (haha) to bring home is something we will have to figure out then.
Julie and Theo had also brought up some berries and so we canned them along with the apples. Now we have rows and rows of preserves. A nice comfy feeling and one I so strongly remember from the days when this was Grandma's kitchen and pantry. Safety, a time away from cares. No worries. I hear Kaden's little voice, "Babika, well hi! Watcha doin?" and I see his momma at his same age standing in the same spot talking to my grandma on the anniversary of the Birth of the Bab! WOW! What a flashback. I hope she is looking at us, now, with a bit of a smile.
Oct 31st post
We didn't get to see Alex and baby David as they stayed in Tualitin, going to the light show and trick or treating there, so it was left to Kaden to entertain us. Poor Bart had to work clear down the coast so I took pics w/the cell phone. So cute as a cowboy with his horse! He loved talking to all the other tricker treaters. I caught up to them in front of Godfather's and then walked (and carried) Kaden back to my car by the Flavel House. Long walk with a horse, too! We took a break on the bench in front of, ummm, McMahons? No, a block further down by the old sandwich shop that had great soup but closed shop. When I sat Kaden down and propped the horse next to him, Kaden reached out and kissed it and people started, "Ooohing" and asked to take his picture. I, being the excellent grandma that I am not, did not have a camera so told them, "Sure, go ahead" belatedly remembering the class I had taken in my Gender Studies class less than four years ago! However, we have already shared his photo on our family site and anyone searching could find that and do what they want with the photos. Soon all of the sites will have the protection over being unable to download pictures, like many artists already have, but how sad that we will have to jump through hoops to get our own or family member's pics.
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