Observance of Ascension of Baha’u’llah

Baha'u'llah's ministry came to an end in 1892. He left to humanity a priceless heritage of spiritual and social teachings which He claimed would lead humanity to true and abiding peace. He endured decades of suffering in order to accomplish this mission. In His own words, He stated His motive for doing so:

"The Ancient Beauty hath consented to be bound with chains that mankind may be released from its bondage, and hath accepted to be made a prisoner within this most mighty Stronghold that the whole world may attain unto true liberty. He hath drained to its dregs the cup of sorrow, that all the peoples of the earth may attain unto abiding joy, and be filled with gladness. This is of the mercy of your Lord, the Compassionate, the Most Merciful. We have accepted to be abased, O believers in the Unity of God, that ye may be exalted, and have suffered manifold afflictions, that ye might prosper and flourish.

He Who hath come to build anew the whole world, behold, how they that have joined partners with God have forced Him to dwell within the most desolate of cities!"

Upon entering His presence historian E.G. Browne writes of the experience: "The face of him on whom I gazed I can never forget, though I cannot describe it. Those piercing eyes seemed to read one's very soul; power and authority sat on that ample brow.... No need to ask in whose presence I stood, as I bowed myself before one who is the object of a devotion and love which kings might envy and emperors sigh for in vain!"

A day of reflection for Baha'is everywhere. I can not describe to you what fills my heart now, it is beyond my ability to put into words. Love for you my friends, love for family. Aching sadness for the divisions everywhere. And such a deep ache of longing for that place in the picture above where I go in my mind's eye every day in meditation.

Prayers for courage for all to persevere.

O SON OF SPIRIT!
The best beloved of all things in My sight is Justice; turn not away therefrom if thou desirest Me, and neglect it not that I may confide in thee. By its aid thou shalt see with thine own eyes and not through the eyes of others, and shalt know of thine own knowledge and not through the knowledge of thy neighbor. Ponder this in thy heart; how it behooveth thee to be. Verily justice is My gift to thee and the sign of My loving-kindness. Set it then before thine eyes.

(Baha'u'llah, The Arabic Hidden Words)

Teamwork?

One of the problems I have with sharing my own life in writing is that it involves the sharing of other lives, often without their permission. At what point do I "own" the right to do that? At what point is it gossip? These thoughts do bother me. I try to write vaguely about my family, unless of course they are deceased (lol) and are thinking only the best about me and my intentions, anyways (grin).

Recently, one of the most precious gems in my life told a story in which I am decidedly the villain. Twenty-something angst? Who knows, maybe I am a bit of a villain, which of us are pure? But for the first time in my life someone I deeply care about has a decidedly negative viewpoint of me and our relationship. It hurts for now though I know we will get past it.

So, how to tell one's stories? I am going to share something in which I will use first names. I do apologise ahead of time if I offend and people are welcome to start or add to their own blogs for their side of the story!

My teen job wasn't the typical one. No fast food restuarant, wait tables or maid work. My paper route and babysitting days were behind me (WOW, those stories maybe later). My first, take taxes out, job was as a "gym supervisor". I "watched" the gym in the evenings up at Astoria Junior High (now middle school) as adults cavorted through basketball for half of the year and volley ball the other half of the year with a three month break for softball, at which time I umpired the youth leagues.

It was here that I learned who was "running" my city and my county. They were really a hairy group of people, men and women alike! I saw the teams that "worked" versus the teams that didn't. The ones that had a great time just being together and the ones that were only together for the win. Yeah, they were the elite and nobody could touch them, but then again no one wanted to!

From watching these teams work with and against one another I went on to coach three sports for a combined total of 27 seasons. Some winning, some loosing. I spoke the hype. TEAMWORK! And it is about teamwork. Teaching people to recognize who the leader is, teaching the leader to work with their team, teaching the team to follow the leader and protect the leader. One of the reasons why certain people fight to keep sports in schools. I homeschooled. I do not coach any more. Only one of my children was ever involved in sports. Another time, another post.

At the gym I was fifteen years old and one of my "idols" was a young man recently out of university and paying off his student loans by taking on every refereeing job he could get. To his horror he ended up often refereeing with a rather swarthy man whose shirt was open down to his navel so he could display his chest that often had a small silver spoon entangled in the coarse hairs!

During time outs the young man would sit on the score table and talk with me as I ran the clock and score book, telling me about his goal to become the district attorney, to "clean up" the messes created by ... and a gesture at his refereeing partner . I would talk about my dreams and goals. He influenced my decision to take Latin in high school and as many other courses as Astoria had to prepare me for the future I thought I wanted. He was remarkable. It was 1977 and he was going places and I could always proudly say I knew him when. If I planned it right, just as I finished university I might have a place to work.

About a decade later the goals had dramatically changed for me. I had already had a divorce, two children and Hodgkin's Disease. The young man had indeed become the district attorney and my heart had been broken with many of the decisions he had made, jading me towards the legal profession. When I have had the time to reflect on it, I wonder if he even remembers that teenage girl who he helped plan high school courses with or if he cares how the decisions he made as a District Attorney influenced her life?

Then I think, how many lives around me have I influenced or affected? Do the decisions I make, however much I think are my own business, ripple out to many? Or, am I just a bit player in someone else's drama? Am I a leader or a follower? Don't the actions of the followers often outweigh those of the leaders? There's more of them.

There, I did it without a single name. I just bet no one could figure anyone out, either! (snicker)

Hard working mama!

All day today I have been writing tonight's post in my head and now that I am sitting here, nada! Where did the brilliant idea go, that beautiful turn of phrase, that perfect description that everyone is waiting breathlessly for me to reveal? Chasing it around, peeking in each corner of my mind and all I find are cobwebs and a few, ewwww, hairy spiders!

Tonight I am off to Shrek with daughter #3. We have just finished cleaning up the mess of painting half of the outside of the house, the paint sprayer taking the longest to clean and clean and clean. Thank-you, carmel, for the use of the sprayer! I am tired, in a good way. The house is now a sage color, emanating the wisdom of the people who reside inside. HAHAHA!

This afternoon I had coffee with two of my favorite bloggers. We have almost worked out details of the caper of the century, to reclaim the tape of my triple toe axle from the vaults of ABS, where it is being held so THEY can claim the $100,000 super prize for America's funniest home video. You do realize, of course, that my idea of doing a triple toe axle, while skating eloquently over shimmering paint, will most likely look like someone else flopping about unceremoniously, quite like a fish out of water!

Talking about that and painting this afternoon brought back the pain in my butt. Tonight's movie and later a soak in the spa will be nice. So, what was it that I was going to write about, anyways? Oh, I'll remember it later ... right in the middle of ... the MOVIE~!

Ahhhh ... So Nice!

This is my dream of a good place to soak in a hot tub

FINALLY! The NuWave heating element arrived for the spa. We have been without almost one month. I can't believe how long it has taken for us to track down the part, and this is even with me keeping everything together in one spot!

I took the owners manual apart and slipped each page into sheet protectors so we could read it by the spa if we needed to (like when we empty and refill it to clean it, etc...) and put it all in a binder. In the side pockets I keep the purchase order, the receipt and the warranty. See, I was being quite responsible!

And it still took two week to track down the element and another two weeks for the right one to come. Luckily for us we have a friend to advise us on how to install it. In turn we exchanged Kona coffee and computer advice with him! My sister, Daintry, lives in Hawaii and visits the NW often so we have a regular supply of Kona if we desire. A good exchange, its nice having neighbors with talents different than yours. It just seems that the more tools to exchange in the neighborhood make for a more diverse, colorful and interesting place to live. And, in most cases, helpful too!

The spa is not just a luxury or toy. Between the Parkinson's Disease that is Dad's bane to bear and the  natural aging process that is all of ours to bear the spa is almost a necessity and with the most recent acrobatic performance in Astoria Builders Supply it surely is one of the most needed tools in our household at this time!

We head for Portland today so Dad can see a Physical Therapist about his balance issues due to Parkinsons. He has taken some pretty serious tumbles lately because of leaning forward too far, a common occurance w/Parkinsons. This trip is going to be painful for the both of us. My back is still hurting and Dad's legs ache after just half an hour in the car.

Ahhhhh the spa tonight, under a clear sky! Sooooo nice of a thing to look forward to.

OUCH!

See yesterday's post if you need further clarification.

Pride goeth before the fall

When you read the paper tomorrow and think you've seen me before only I was driving through town with green hair, wrapped in a plastic, see-through shroud ... yeah, that was me.

Today, I woke up with a pounding headache. A dozen things happen and I keep forgetting to take Excedrin for Migraines which is the only thing that seems to work. Anyhow, 11:30 am finds me still in jammies and a robe and I am stripping 25 years of polyurethane off of a cupboard door when I suddenly remember a letter I HAVE to overnight. CRAP!

I rush to the bedroom and jump into clothes. I yank a comb through my hair and rush out the door to the post office. I finally make it to the front of the quarter mile long line only to find out that I have filled out the form wrong (actually grabbed the wrong one) and so must stand to the side and fill out the right one. When I finish, again, the lady says sorry she's going to lunch and directs me over to the other window and of course that person who I am behind is mailing fifty billion boxes to Kookamonga.

As I leave the building, maybe slightly muttering, a woman stops me. Will you comment for Daily Astorian's something or other column? I look at her stunned. My head is still pounding. I blame what happens next on the pain. She says, "It won't hurt, it is a painless question!" So, okay, what harm? "Were you ready for the pay increase in the postage stamp?" I respond, "Yes, and I blame it all on the District Attorney, Josh Marquis!"



No! Of course I didn't say that. I only wrote that for the hits when people google his name. I actually muttered something equally stupid. "Yes, I was ready." Because I was thinking she meant mentally prepared. See, that's how my mind works. I was mentally prepared. I just wasn't physically, in the sense of the boyscout motto, prepared. So then I hastily added, "I was just lazy." Now, since people who are going to read that in the paper weren't in my head going through the thought process with me they are going to read my comments and say, "What a moron. Who do they pick to answer these questions? Why didn't she comb her hair. Why didn't she just say no when the reporter asked her to respond to a question?" Whenever I see people in the paper with their hair disarrayed saying stupid things I think, "Why did they let that happen?" Well, because we are morons who can't say no.

She says, "Can I get your name?" Honest to God, this time, I replied, "Esmeralda" and she wrote it down. I almost went ahead and finished it with "Smith" but I couldn't. I said, "No, that was a joke!" She wasn't amused. I sighed and told her Carrie and spelled it for her. She then asked my last name. I paused big time. She said, "WELL?" I am thinking, maiden name? Married name? Grandmother's maiden name? "WELLL?" Fine, and I tell her the dang TRUTH! ARG! I am an idiot! She's probably going to use the crappy full body shot now. Like the head shot was any prize. Hair blown all over the place, standing in line balancing my mail from the PO box and writing out the forms, head pounding, no make-up. ACK! End of my day of idiocy? Oh, hell no!

I go to my next stop, Astoria Builders Supply to get more paint. They want $110 for a five gallon can of eggshell exterior latex. I am not going to pay that. Well, the nice man tells me that they do have rejects that might be cheaper. We go out to the warehouse and there is five gallons of grey exterior for $25. I'll take it. I also take 1 gallon of green and 1 quart of light green. I think, I am so friggin brilliant I'll just mix this with the four gallons I have at home and come up with a phenomenal color that no one else in the neighborhood has (or probably wants). As the man is shaking it up I finish picking out the rest of the items on my list and go to the front check out where the hand truck with the paint is waiting for me. A different clerk rings me up and I pay. There is a line of people behind me and the clerk calls for customer service. The man that helped me pick out the paint comes up front to help out. At first I thought he was going to help me and so I stand to the side of the hand truck but he goes over to the other check out stand. I think no big deal, I can handle it and announce, "I'll just take this."

Now, I have been around hand trucks most of my life. My father was a "van foreman" and my parents owned City Transfer and Storage, agents for Allied Van Lines. "Skin grows back, wood doesn't" was the family motto. I can pack a storage unit so tight that if you removed the unit the boxes would still be in perfect place. Consequently, I put my foot on the bottom and expertly flip the truck back. In one hand I had the handle of the hand truck, in the other my purse and the bag with the rest of my purchases. In one FLUID motion the top quart of paint flew up into the air, landing just under my foot, lid off, the paint following in a rainbow arc. I completed my stepping down motion which flipped the can, spilling the rest of the paint onto the ground. I then skated through the paint and proceeded to do a triple toe axle, landing on my back and coming to a spinning finish with a paint angel. TAH-DAAAA!

I hopped up as quickly as my body would allow with the assistance of a rather startled young man who had been watching the performance from behind me. There was dead silence as everyone just stared at me. "Are you okay?" both of the clerks blurted at once. "Yes, yes. I'm fine, just fine!" When I related this to my son he said it reminded him of a bit from Dane Cook's latest cd, Retaliation, where the guy just got struck by a vehicle and when everyone asks him how he is he replies, "Fine, I'm fine. Has anyone seen my shoes? I just kicked them off in a fit of joy!"

There didn't seem much I could do to save my dignity, really, so I just started laughing. A few joined in with me. A few acted as if they didn't see it happen. How do you not see that happen? A butterball just did a triple axel followed by a backflip in a pool of green paint at the checkout stand and finished it off with a paint angel! It was beautiful. I wish to God I had been watching it!

One lady said, "Oh, thank God your laughing because that was the funniest damn thing I ever saw! If someone had only gotten that on tape you'd win America's funniest home videos." The clerk who had not yet even cracked a smile and was somberly mopping me and the floor up with a few blue shop towels motioned up to the security camera, "Oh, we got it ALL on tape!" The lady was excited to close the deal, "See, you've got it made, you won't have to paint your own house again for a long time!" I hastily reply, "My dignity is worth a hell of a lot more than $25,000. I will never sign a release form. No one ever sees that tape. I want it mailed to me." The clerk, who never laughed and had expressed only concern so far replied, with total seriousness, "I think we'll be watching that in the break room for quite a long time."

The mess was too big to wipe up with the roll of blue shop towels leaving me with the remaining option of being wrapped in plastic to keep the car clean while quickly driving home with my green hair covering my red face.

SIGH! And I was worried about what picture Tryan might post? If I see this on YouTube I will cry. Otherwise, I guess there's not a whole lot one can do but laugh. Oh my aching head and butt!

Vote YES For Clatsop Community College

We need a new college. We have needed one for a long, long time. Our college is, literally, falling down around peoples' heads. Potential faculty take one look and say, 'No, thank-you, they don't care about their school and they sure won't care about giving me a pay increase in a few years!"

The benefits of a beautiful college on a beautiful site with beautiful facilities surrounding it (library, performing arts building, graphic arts, technical trades, musical, sports complex) is something the whole county can enjoy whether or not the people are taking classes. The buildings can be used for various meetings as well and the other schools can use the sports complex.

Wireless! Please! For all throughout the county where our hills don't impede or they can have relay stations. A sports complex that can be used year round so our kids have a healthy alternative to drugs and alcohol. The adults too, for that matter. More business classes so the entrepreneurs have a healthy alternative, again, to drug dealing.

We NEED fifty percent of the county to get out there and vote or it doesn't even matter if the yesses are the majority. If fifty percent of the voters don't vote it doesn't count. Today Katrina said someone came into the library and said they were deliberately witholding their ballot because they want to vote no but had heard the vote was so close that the nos should just not vote because they had a better chance of not making the fifty percent requirement than making sure that there were enough nos to defeat the bond! So, that also means the port race loses, too! What are people thinking? I guess whatever it takes to "win"?

Hmmmm, Is someone trying to tell me something?

Are someones trying to (or trying not to) tell me that me writing stinks?

Now watch, Tryan will finally update the photo page on the blog role for NorthCoastOregon.com. LOL! Serve me right for the poor me no comment blues!

Roadside "Assistance"

I ran up the highway to my sister's in Bellevue to get our mother the other day, it took me 10 hours one way. We are sharing her of late. My sister is moving and I am trying to. At the rate I am going, though, maybe my grandchildren will be having their children here. ACK!


Ten hours one way! Me, lead foot. Ask me why, go ahead, I won't bite your head off. Its hailing off and on and I know its going to be a slooooow trip so I decide I want to listen to a movie on the way up. The DVD player in the backseat so I won't get a ticket but I can't hear the volume so I stop to get speakers. I purchase said speakers and they don't do anything except whisper on two sides of me instead of straight down the middle. Okay, I try the head phones that came with the thing. Still can't hear. Crap. Okay, radio. Crappy radio, however I have already spent an hour in the parking lot in Longview. I get more coffee. Now I am on my second or fourth coffee and I have to pull over, again, to, will, purge it. So I pull off once, twice and again in Centralia. In Centralia at the factory outlets I somehow get turned around and go down a side road before getting back on track and back on the freeway.

I am buzzing along when WHAM my wheel starts tugging back and forth, like something has become wrapped around the tires. I can't figure out what is happening. The driver next to me is pointing at my tire. A frigging blow out! Since I am using my father's blazer for this adventure (I am bringing back a garden wagon and a cover for his hot tub) I know he has roadside protection for his brand new tires from Les Schwab in Warrenton so I call them.

Me: "Hello, I have new tires purchased from you guys and one of them have blown out and I'm stuck alongside the highway. Do you have any suggestions?" I was thinking they would tell me which of their affiliates I could call. Sue, their rep on the phone: "I suggest you call your roadside assistance program, triple A or whatever." Me: "What? OH! But is says in this contract that you provide roadside repairs" Sue:"No, it says we provide repairs on tires for roadside wear, AFTER you bring it to us." Me: "Okay, thank-you anyways." I call my dad and tell him what happened. He is livid. Dad: "I bought from Les Schwab INSTEAD of Costco because Les Schwab has ROADSIDE assistance at the road. Costco repairs tires that you bring to them as well." So he calls Les Schwab and gives them an ear full. Meanwhile I call my mother in Bellevue and get Centralia Les Schwab's phone number.

Me: " Hello, I have four brand new Lew Schwab tires and one of them have blown. I am alongside the highway right under the roadsign for Tenino. What can you do for me?" Centralia Les Schwab: "We can send out a repairman right away to put your spare on, bring you into the shop, repair the blown tire and put it back on for you. How is that?" Me: "That would be great." So I sit back and watch my movie for a few minutes. Not even 15 minutes later the Centralia Les Schwab man is there. He puts on my spare and I follow him in. A half hour later I am at the counter getting my keys back and a bill. WHAT? A road service charge. Yes ma'am, the customer service person was supposed to tell me there was a charge of $86.50 charge for service calls made on the the highway. Me: " I HAVE Triple A." THEM: "I am sorry, ma'am. You should have been told and given the option however it is the price." He still has my keys. I weigh my options. I shake my head and give him my debit card. Me: "You know, I have triple A and we could have bought from Costco." HIM: " I know ma'am. The service rep should have told you and given you a choice."

So, I am helping to give you a choice. $86 buys you ONE trip to Les Schwab. OR $86 buys you and one other person in your family a year's subscription to Triple A where you can each have four assists a year and then pay just $25 for each incident after that. Plus get discounts on auto insurance and reservations for trips and hotels and motels. Then, purchase your tires at COSTCO! COSTCO! COSTCO! Les Schwab bad, Costco good. If you want people to buy local, you have to give them a reason to do so. If I am not going to get better service or better care from the supposedly locally owned store and its cheaper from the "big box" especially when I am always treated nicer in the tire department at the "big box" then the "big box" gets my business.

I then hit rush hour. Happy? Not!