Global Flash Mob Wedding

Every once in awhile things come together for a beautiful moment in time.  People from around the world came together to make this moment happen at our son's wedding, recently. I am at a loss for words. I wept so much all my makeup was washed away!

My heart has been aching and I have been operating in panic mode since Thanksgiving. It started with hubby's mom going in for surgery for a malfunctioning aortic valve. She did not recover as expected from the surgery and quickly went downhill. I was with her the night before surgery, staying over at a motel in Portland since the surgery was set for so early the following morning. That evening was possibly the last time Bart's mom was "fully" cognizant of her surroundings and what was happening.

Shortly after mom-in-law's episode my mother was rushed to the hospital in Ewa Beach. She was there for two months after first being diagnosed with pneumonia, which then became MRSA coupled with her COPD and her chemo wracked body, all of this brought on by a bout of VOG, volcanic smog blown over from the big island. Miraculously, she pulled through, but not before my father also went into the hospital for two weeks due to panic over my mother's condition bringing on his own bout with pneumonia and leading to a sever episode of vascular/emotional dementia. Bart's mother died in January, never able to go home since leaving it just before Thanksgiving. Both of my parents recovered, but my father still has not fully regained his cognitive abilities and often wakes up thinking he needs to get dressed and go to work. My mother's lungs remain severely weakened leaving her unable to travel, especially not able to board a plane to fly home.

During all of this emotional upheaval we received word from the reverse mortgage loan corporation that we do not get a year to sell the home but, since my father was ill and no longer able to live in the home but not dead, they could call the loan in whenever they pleased and they pleased immediately. We consulted with lawyers and found out that while they were barely within their legal rights, barely is all it took. We now had four months to either buy or sell the property. We put it for sale immediately but it is a long shot that it will sell before the Bank of America's auction date of April 28th.  Personally, my husband and I have sunk just under $200,000 into this land that has been in my family since the 1860's. Packing has been almost impossible for me to do, my heart just refuses to believe we have lost this land and my mind cannot wrap around going through close to 100 years of accumulated things in such a short amount of time.

Then, we received news that our son is to be deployed. For me, this has been the hardest to mentally and emotionally accept. He joined the national guard to help, locally, in natural disasters. To defend, should we be attacked. This gentle soul that literally cannot kill a bug without cringing ...  I worry what will be coming home. I worry if he will come home. I worry.

We were long overdue for some good news. Finally, son announces he and fiance are going to marry!  Since I cannot say too much more without it being deemed gossip, let us just say the family is very, very happy with this decision and the knowledge our grandson is in a safe and secure family unit.

So, a wedding to plan within a month! Son's fiance had BIG plans. We cringed as we don't "do" big weddings. Four daughters and our budgets have always been under $5,000.  She is from Ethiopia, where the wedding garments generally start at that price. We had to meet her father, who has decided viewpoints. How to merge our families together? Ack, ack, ack, more worries. Wedding day comes and up to the point that music started for the walk down the aisle, decorations were going up. Her dress burst open in the back and was literally pinned together with safety pins and bows.

And ... it was such a beautiful wedding we wept.

Bahai weddings are really quite different. We marry one another, no one "marries" us. No one asks who gives away the bride, no one pronounces us wed. But, how to convey that to people from another religion on top of another culture. The bride's father didn't think it could be done and had prepared what he wanted read at the wedding. It was politely accepted for consideration but was not used. With trepidation I talked with him later that wedding day. He was overjoyed with the ceremony and said nothing he had prepared could have added anything to it. I was greatly relieved.

I knew we really couldn't meet the bride's expectation for decorations, but I had two things in our wedding chest. Our family puts out a mean meal at the drop of a hat. Give us a week and it is going to be a humdinger, give us two weeks and we can wow anyone. Our family chef, Bart's brother Kelvin, and party planning big sis (who has been battling cancer herself) put out a such a spread that people were speechless when they found out it wasn't catered. Prime rib, salmon and lamb, salads, rice pilaf, veggies, with friends also bringing Ethiopian dishes and Indian dishes.  It was fabulous.

And then, and then, and then ... this video. We will have the split screen done a little better, my mom threw this together as a little token of her love. She wasn't allowed to fly home for the ceremony (another heartbreaking moment).  We planned a surprise flash mob for the reception. We not only planned it but pulled it OFF!!!  We see on You Tube where the wedding party surprises guests with a flash mob, but have not seen the guests surprise the bride and groom with one. To top it off, we asked family and friends who couldn't make it to the ceremony to video themselves dancing to "Happy" as well as a congratulations on the wedding video.  Videos came in from around the world! From Japan to Addis Ababa, from Alaska to Oklahoma, Washington, Minnesota, Oregon and many points in between. The response of people stepping outside of their comfort zone was unbelievable. I weep as I write this, out of gratitude. You guys are just the best. And with this dance, two families and so many cultures, came together.

It was FABULOUS, and everyone was crying, again! In our family, if we can bring you to laughter or tears, its a WIN!  

If you want to watch all the congratulations first, watch the whole video, if you want to skip to just the dance fast forward to 11:04. 

I write this today as I procrastinate more packing. I watch the video today to remember the happy as I weep with the sadness of saying goodbye to the land where my people have walked for seven generations, where my grandchildren will no longer play alongside the memories of their grands, great grands, great great grands and even great great great grands.  With sadness I pack up the old, with hope in my heart I look forward (if not with radiant acquiescence at least with determination) to the new.

The script for the Wedding of Martha Kemma & Matthew Morrell

Tod says: On behalf of Martha and Matthew, welcome and thank you for coming to celebrate their wedding.

All religions revere marriage, each in their own, unique way.  The unifying thought in all holy scriptures, regarding marriage, is that the union of the husband and wife is regarded as an eternal spiritual bond, created as a gift from the Creator.

In Christianity an often used quote for marriage is from the Bible, Mark Chapter 10:
But at the beginning of creation God made them male and female.

For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one.

 Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate.

Helen says: A prayer from the Eastern Orthodox Church ~ O Merciful God, we beseech Thee ever to remind us that the married state is holy, and that we must keep it so; Grant us Thy grace, that we may continue in faithfulness and love; Increase in us the spirit of mutual understanding and trust, that no quarrel or strife may come between us; Grant us Thy blessings, that we may stand before our fellows and in Thy sight as an ideal family; And finally, by Thy mercy, account us worthy of everlasting life: For Thou art our sanctification, and to Thee we ascribe glory, to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Tod says: In the Baha’i Faith scripture tells us that the true marriage of Baha’is is this, that husband and wife should be united both physically and spiritually, that they may ever improve the spiritual life of each other, and may enjoy everlasting unity throughout all the worlds of God.

O ye two believers in God! The Lord, peerless is He, hath made woman and man to abide with each other in the closest companionship, and to be even as a single soul. They are two helpmates, two intimate friends, who should be concerned about the welfare of each other.
If they live thus, they will pass through this world with perfect contentment, bliss, and peace of heart, and become the object of divine grace and favour in the Kingdom of heaven.

Strive, then, to abide, heart and soul, with each other as two doves in the nest, for this is to be blessed in both worlds.

Katrina says: A prayer from the Baha’i Faith: He is God! O peerless Lord!  In Thine almighty wisdom Thou hast enjoined marriage upon the peoples, that the generations of men may succeed one another in this contingent world, and that ever, so long as the world shall last, they may busy themselves at the Threshold of Thy oneness with servitude and worship, with salutation, adoration and praise.  “I have not created spirits and men, but that they should worship me.”  Wherefore, wed Thou in the heaven of Thy mercy these two birds of the nest of Thy love, and make them the means of attracting perpetual grace; that from the union of these two seas of love a wave of tenderness may surge and cast the pearls of pure and goodly issue on the shore of life.  “He hath let loose the two seas, that they meet each other:  Between them is a barrier which they overpass not.  Which then of the bounties of your Lord will ye deny?  From each He bringeth up greater and lesser pearls.” O Thou kind Lord!  Make Thou this marriage to bring forth coral and pearls.  Thou art verily the All-Powerful, the Most Great, the Ever-Forgiving. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

Tod says: It is the strength of the commitment of the two individuals that will determine the strength and bond of the marriage. Matthew and Martha, with the blessings and approval of their parents, have chosen to marry one another. They choose to say the vows that will unite them through eternity.  

Matthew takes Martha’s hand and says: “We will all, verily, abide by the Will of God” and places the ring on Martha’s finger.

Martha takes Matt’s hand and says: “We will all, verily, abide by the Will of God,” and places the ring on Matthew’s finger.
 

Matthew then removes the veil from Martha’s face and kisses her.

Tod says: And with this simple, but profound, vow, Matthew and Martha have become partners in a new creation, the divine institution which is their marriage.  May I present to their family and friends, Mr & Mrs. Matthew & Martha Kemma Morrell.

They turn to the guests, holding hands, and smile. Music starts up and they walk back down the aisle followed by Kahlil and Olivia, then Helen and Katrina and then Martha’s father, then Matthew’s parents. 

As Matt and Martha get to the end of the wedding aisle carpet Tod makes announcements

Tod says: Please leave row by row to go through the receiving line. Pictures of the wedding party will then take place while the room is prepared for the reception. Feel free to relax and wait here. The reception will begin in approximately one half hour.

The wedding and reception was held at the log cabin at Camp Rilea. It was simple, beautiful, and we are so very grateful to all who participated in so many different ways, from near and afar. Love to you, one and all.

Pacific Northwest Property For Sale

Located just outside of Astoria, Oregon (oldest city west of the Rockies) this property has only been owned by one family since the 1860s, before that no one owned it. All original miles, many nooks that maybe no one has ever traipsed. Just under 7 acres in an R2 zoned area. Two sites fully developed with all utilities and septic systems installed and the possibility for a third site with utilities brought in but not installed.

One of the sites is waterfront, on the banks of the Walluski River, with a 1976 built Adair home. Three+ bedrooms, 1.5 baths, needs some TLC, but has a septic system, water, electricity, cable and internet running to it. Securing a water line is important as there is often a moratorium on the water and new development is restricted without water rights.

The second site just has a 14x70 trailer that was used as a storage unit. This site has the largest septic system that can be put in for a residential unit, capable of handling a six bedroom home and an RV hookup. The site also has water, electricity, cable and internet running to it. There is an orchard with various apple trees, two kinds of pear, cherry trees, marionberry, blueberry, and raspberry bushes, a fig tree and an almond tree.   This property will be going to auction on April 28th. If you buy now you won't be in a bidding war for the rarely available sites that are fully developed and already own water rights. You also will get the plans for the property, the septic system installation, and the house plans for the home.  On Zillow the home on just a 200'x200' lot is appraised st $228,000. All 6.9 acres, two fully developed homesites and one potential homesite can be yours for $499,999.  Look for our ad in the Sunday LA Times.

What we are offering the new owner is some of the last available Walluskie land in the heart of the wild foothills of the coastal range- deer, elk, cougar, coyotes, eagles, and osprey are regular visitors to this secluded estate as well as succulent salmon, steel head and organic gluten free waterfowl.  Seafood is just fifteen minutes away where clams and crabs are waiting for you to come and pluck them from the beach. 

Want to know a little more about Astoria and what's so great about living here? Here's a short video of pictures of what you can see and do, the theaters we have, the movies made here, the fun in the sun, water, and rain. It is a mere hour from the mountains and snow, 90 miles from Portland International Airport, fifteen minutes from a beach, ten minutes from a lake and a blink of an eye from a river. You need this property. Build on one site and rent out or sell the other. Use for corporate retreats or full time living.

If you are interested, email twowings19 at yahoo dot com

Standing by ... in Ferguson

Have you seen, “A Time To Kill”? John Grisham's book made into a movie with Michael McConaughey.  At the end of the trial scene, McConaughey gives a stirring speech. I love that speech. I think of that speech when I watch Ferguson burn. I hear McConaughey’s voice as I read all the remarks Facebook friends make in their status updates. And I wonder. 

I’d like you to imagine. Imagine a cop, on his beat. Earlier in the day he watched a gang of young punks hanging out, lounging on a park picnic table, while families made a wide berth around them. They are talking loudly, music blaring, and scowling at anyone who looks their way. The cop doesn’t like how they’ve taken over the parks, and in the winter time the only two malls in town. He knows people fear them, because he fears them a little. He is intimidated by how they look, their size, and that angers him.  

 The cop doesn’t see it, but he just knows that the occasional person that stops by and shakes hands with this gang of thugs is really buying drugs. He is tired of it, but they are a small city and don’t have the money for the proper man power it would take to police all the suspicious activity. All he can do is observe. He’s had to spend five days in the last year in trainings that are supposed to help him do his job better, but he doesn’t see much good when the community he is supposed to be helping hates his profession so much.  

This profession that he thought would be such a great way to serve, but also get a little ahead in life, has turned out to be a disappointment. Repeatedly he has been passed over for promotions, for raises, for special assignments. He is learning, the hard way, about the politics of his job. It seems it has little to do with justice. Who gets ahead, who gets targeted, everything to do with politics.

A call comes in. Robbery in progress. He and his partner race to the scene. The perpetrators are long gone. The owner of the small corner grocery store has a bloody face where one of the thugs had punched him before taking everything in the till. A paltry $25 and a fistful of change. The owner swears he saw a gun in the waistband of one of them, but the surveillance tapes don’t show lower than counter high so it is impossible to tell. If the men are caught with guns, they will be charged with armed robbery, otherwise it could be knocked down to a misdemeanor. The cop shakes his head. This is not the town he grew up in. Too many good people moving out, too many others moving in. The population constantly changing and it is hard to get a read on the people in the neighborhoods he used to know like the back of his hand.

 He studies the video tape. Try as he might, he can’t see anything more than a general description of the two men. He can make out height, weight and race and that’s about it. He barely had to note the race, he knows the statistics on which race had the most drug problems. Nothing else physically stands out about the men, both wearing hooded sweatshirts and sun glasses. It frustrates him to no end that good, decent, people can’t even come to the corner grocery store without the fear of running on the foul side of one of these punks.

His partner’s shift is over. Because of cuts in the budget he only has a partner for half the shift. The other half is solo. Unemployment is high and taxes go unpaid, and it always seems like law enforcement takes the first hit when the city has to decide what to cut. His frustration mounts. Little resources,  Even if he could identify the guy that did this and arrested him, the punk would be out before he finished the paperwork. Especially if they don’t find a gun on him. Deep down, he sort of hopes he does find a gun on the next creep. That’s the only thing that would keep him in jail until the trial. The more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets.

Suddenly, he thinks he sees one of those gangster-wanna-bes alone, strolling down the sidewalk, acting like he owned the place.  The cop hollers to the guy, tells him he wants to talk to him. He isn’t sure, yet, what he’s going to do. The guy looks at him and the cop motions him to come closer. The guy does and the cop asks him his name. Begrudgingly, the guy tells him. The cop asks him if he was in the grocery store that had been robbed.  The guy tells him to go to hell, he’s not answering any more questions. Anger swells through the cop. He is now sure it is the same guy. He hollers that if the guy isn’t going to answer questions here, he’s taking him down to the station to answer questions there. The cop gives the slow wink and follows with a glare that shows he means business while adding through a snarl, "if you make it to the station." That should show the punk who is in charge.

In response, the guy reaches through the window and punches the cop in the face!  The cop is outraged. How dare this two-bit, wretched piece of garbage touch him? How dare "scum" physically assault HIM? The cop screams that he’s going to kill the punk and as he reaches for his revolver the guy reaches for it, too!

What the hell? Is this thug going for HIS gun? 

Are you imagining it? The wrestling over the revolver, the anger and frustration of the cop, then the panic that this disgusting piece of garbage that was ruining his community was going to do the most humiliating thing that could happen to a cop, have his own gun wrestled away from him and maybe even used on him! The cop frantically claws and finally grabs the gun free from the guy and fires. The guy staggers away. Adrenalin pumping, the cop jumps out of his vehicle, he chases after the thug and fires again, again, and again until the guy is on the ground, not moving. "Never will  this garbage rob another grocery store nor hang out dealing drugs in another park," the cop thinks as he holsters his gun.


Can you see this scene unfold?



Now, imagine the cop is black.




Are you still standing by him?

I'm Baaaack! Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Almost three years since my last post! See what happens when you don't have a "Password Safe" to keep all of your passwords in? For the past year I have tried, obviously unsuccessfully, to log in to my blog. Whoever has the email address twowings19@****.*** I am so very sorry for the numerous times you were bothered by the alert that someone was trying to break into your account. I wasn't, I just forgot my own account. Apparently, I also forgot the name of my "favorite pet" as well as the date I was born.

Ok, yes, of course I don't give any website, including Facebook, correct information about myself. I mean, really, if they are protecting me in case of hacking, it stands to reason with me that their sites aren't all that secure so why would I provide them with a bunch of information about myself?

I like the sites where, if you lose a password they send a text to your cell phone. Come on, IF someone has my laptop ("Please log in from a device that you have previously logged in from") and my cell ("Please provide the phone number associated with this account") I think I am in a lot more trouble than worrying about if they are breaking into my blog account.

So much has happened in the last three years. My husband and I are alone in our home, for the first time in our married lives! That has taken a lot of adjustment. Daughter #1 is married and has another baby. With her "new" husband that makes three grandchildren from her. Daughter #3 and her husband have two children with another on the way. Daughter #4 and her hubby have three children as well, and our son has a bouncing baby boy, too! As of today we have NINE grandchildren with number ten due in July.

My mother and father have moved to Hawaii. Her health is much better since her bout with follicular cancer. She will never be "cured" from it (unless some dramatic cancer breakthrough occurs) but chemo treatments every five years to keep it in remission is doable. My dad's health fluctuates between amazing for someone with Parkinson's to "what the HELL is going on now?" More about that in another post.

I am still struggling to keep my journalistic endeavor afloat.

All in all, keeping very busy and, mostly, staying out of trouble. Looking forward to the holiday season about to commence. For many the holiday season may be pretty much over, but for us it has barely begun. Ayyam-i-Ha is just around the corner, followed by Naw Ruz and the 12 days of Ridvan Festival with the Fast in between it all. Plus, this year, hubby and I are again headed to Haifa for Pilgrimage in March! JOY!!!!

We are also hosting weekly neighborhood devotions in our home, two each and every Thursday. One beginning at noon and another at 5 pm, lasting half an hour to 45 minutes. You can join us on your lunch break or on your way home from work, for those living/working in or around the Walluski and Olney areas. No preaching, no discussions, no donations accepted, just a mutual connection to the Divine. A neighborhood that prays together can do some amazing things together, in my humble opinion (hey, it almost rhymes depending on your accent and how you pronounce "things").

One of my goals this year is to post more often here. Another goal was to get the weekly neighborhood devotions going. Now, I need to work on invites that are inviting and inclusive. Pretty much looking on this new Gregorian year with a sense of adventures yet to unfold. A little excited, a little scared. Let's be honest, the fear is what generates the excitement, eh? Life is like a roller coaster, the longer it takes to get to the top, the more exciting the ride down is going to be.

Thank-you For Entertaining Me!

Way back "when" Robert Downy, Jr. had a serious problem with addictions. It appeared that he was self-destructive and spent much time between making movies getting into serious trouble, even spending time in prison.

I, for one, am so very pleased he did whatever it was he did to become the actor he is, today. I enjoy his acting immensely. I loved him in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and in     . When I reflect on the joy watching these movies brings me I am also saddened by the loss of another actor I enjoyed immensely, Heath Ledger.

Very rarely do I get emotional over the loss of someone who is not immediately connected to me, via family or friend. Just am not wired that way, I guess. I empathize with someone else's loss, but I don't become emotionally involved. But when Heath Ledger died I felt like the world had lost a great entertainer, and I cried to think that I would never see him act in something new, again.



 After Ledger's death I have begun really appreciating the new work each of my favorite performing artists does. Johnny Depp, John Cusak, Nicholas Cage, Mathew McConnehay, Luke Wilson, thank-you for doing what you do. Jodie Foster, Joan Cusak, Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts, Sandra Bullock, Anne Heche, Mariska Hargitay, Edie Falco, thanks for making me laugh, cry, moan, whoop and just take me away for the moment to somewhere else!

I think too often media centers their focus on tragedies. I think, too often, media centers too much attention on the private lives of those who "entertain" us. As if a $20 ticket to an event entitles us to be voyeurs into those people's personal lives.

Personally, I don't care about "who" these people "really are". Just like all of us, they will present to the world what they want the world to see, and I am okay with that. I don't care what one of them wears to whatever party is where ever its at. I am content to just enjoy who it is they are pretending to be while I scrunch down in my seat at the Gateway Theater, waiting for them to "take me away" to another place, another time, another point of view.

I made the serious mistake awhile ago of reading about Tom Cruise's perspective on "religion". Shortly after that he left Nicole Kidman and took up with someone half his age. This has ruined Cruise for me. I will watch a film inspite of the fact that he is in it, instead of because he is in it. So sad, for me. I am quite sure it is no great loss to him, lol!

It is with relief that I note, as I wait in line at the supermarket, that I rarely know anyone on the front cover of any of trash magazines. So my eyes can casually drift over the headlines without influencing how I am going to chose my next movie. In my perfect world, these kinds of magazines would disappear in a puff of smoke. I appreciate we live in a free-market world. I hope that, soon, people will just be happy with the two hours that their ticket purchased and stop with feeling like that "deserve" any "more" from these entertainers, whether they are on the stage, in film, or in an arena or on a playing field. I honestly don't think our entertainers owe us any look into their private lives any more than they "deserve" look into ours if they subscribe to a blog one of us writes on.

And, uh-huh, sports is entertainment. Players are entertainers. Where would we be if Downey Jr was banned from show business because of his drug habit? I don't care if some sports guy has a drug habit and think it utterly ridiculous that someone is banned from an entertainment field if s/he fails a drug test. While OWNERS of teams certainly have a right to have certain requirements for their employees a whole field of the entertainment industry being able to ban people from doing what gives them a sense of identity or is a grounding point for them seems highly barbaric and archaic to me. Get over yourselves, athletic industry, you are an entertainment industry. If your people don't entertain us, we will quit watching and you will quit "producing" your reality brand of entertainment. If our kids are looking at athletes as their "role models" that is our fault, lay off the bizarre rules that change from sport to sport.

Stun of a Witch, its been one of those daze!

These last couple of days have been nothing short of weird, weird, weird leaving me walking around in a complete daze! People that I thought I knew, pretty comfortingly well, hit me upside the head with some philosophies(?) that must have been percolating for quite a while now but I have been quite oblivious to. While having differing viewpoints is what makes this world go around and life fairly interesting their viewpoint on what I do, as well as what others have done, was what stunned me and made me feel, well, weird. 

Then I had to deal with the fall out of that, phone calls of other people who found out and then the funny part (and sort of weird) from people who thought all along I was someone else. It began to feel rather like a Shakespearean "Mid Winter's Night Dream" and just when I thought it couldn't get any weirder, today dawns and I find out more "shenanigans" from Mr. Foster, a newly elected commissioner is also a realtor and he hired a woman whose house he can't sell to run some sort of retreat for the county commissioners, the private school my grandchildren were going to enter in the fall has been closed down and then AFTER five o'clock when the county offices close down so I can't verify, I hear that three people who thought they were commissioners and made some pretty spectacular decisions on January 12th possibly weren't sworn in properly and may have to be sworn in again!  I find out that this was discovered possibly Monday and yet an amended agenda hasn't been sent out to the media. If these folks weren't sworn in properly on the 12th what happens regarding the LNG Pipeline land use application that they voted to take back from LUBA? 

The County Charter, Chapter III Section 2 states

Term of Office.

(A) The term of office of an elected County Commissioner is four years and begins on or after January 1 of the year following election upon administration of the oath of office.

(B) Commissioners serve until the succeeding Commissioner has taken the oath of office

 It will be interesting to see what others make of this and what County has to say in the morning,  and if there is an amended agenda. Surely they won't just have the commissioners arrive at 4:45 before the work session and slip it in then? I don't think they can do that without notifying the public about why the commissioners are meeting each time they meet. 

Then, tonight, to top it all off personally, I went into Warrenton to buy a used vacuum cleaner because 1) I like to reuse whenever possible, and 2) I am cheap. It was a nice Bissell and it was only $25. Mom and Dad are headed home after being in Hawaii for two months and they are depressed enough coming home to the weather so I wanted to make the indoors as nice as possible. 

After picking up the Bissell I was driving home and came to a stop at the stop sign at the corner of SW 9th and Cedar and you know what happened? A DEER hit me! YAH, a DEER HIT ME! And that deer hit me so hard that it popped my passenger side window out and rained safety glass all over me! I was so stunned and it made such a loud pop when it happened I really thought someone had shot the window out and any moment a bright light was going to shine and Grandpa Roy was going to be there, calling to me to follow the light!

No such luck. Instead the deer springs up, looks in at me and takes off again with a freaking german shepherd dog chasing it! Of course my little malibu is all paid off so the only insurance we carry on it is the kind if we hit someone or if someone is hurt. Now, maybe, if that deer was to sue US there might be some money! I called the police anyhow to let them know that there was a deluded deer running around Warrenton hitting cars with a german shepherd chasing and that glass was all over 9th street. 

The officer came and took pictures in case they catch the dog or someone else has a run in with this dynamo duo. He was very nice and helped me get the mess off the road and drape a blanket in the window so I wouldn't have such a cold drive home. I had also called the hubby so he was outside waiting for me. He couldn't believe that a deer had done that much damage and walked away. He kept asking me if I was sure it was a deer. YEAH, it was a deer and I wasn't moving. The officer can testify to that. Glass all over the street right by the stop sign. On the side by the stop sign but no paint on my car so NO I DIDN'T HIT THE STOP SIGN! My husband laughed, remembering when a deer chased me in Jewell in my sister-in-laws truck and hit that! 

Yes, deer hate me. Not the vehicle, me. They look up and see me and say, "Hey, I think you used to hunt us all the time and I think you shot our great great great granddaddies." Never mind that at least a quarter of the county has done the same. For some reason the deer have decided to take all their angst out on me. You just watch, tomorrow, at the Board Meeting, either right before it or right after it, a seagull is going to deposit a load on me. I'm bringing an umbrella. I don't care if its a beautiful day tomorrow.

Now THAT'S Entertainment!

Have you noticed that when you criticize a television show, even when it is your admittedly favorite one, no one says (or writes) to you, "Why don't you take up acting if you think you can do it better?" or "If you think you can do a better job, why don't you try coming up with a better script?"

Isn't it odd, though, that if you criticize a sport team or player someone will, invariably, tell you that if you think you can do a better job why don't you go and do it? 

No one calls anyone an "armchair director" when they criticize the way a movie is developing, but criticize the way a play was ran and you are scoffed at as a "wannabe coach." 

Some people wonder where the "rash" of "reality tv" has come from, under the delusion that it is a new phenomenon breaking the screen as we crested into the 21st century but the truth is that "reality tv" was just about all that television had to offer beginning back in 1939 with the first televised sporting event, a college baseball game between Columbia and Princeton.

According to The Museum of Broadcast Communications:

"Television got off the ground because of sports," reminisced pioneering television sports director Harry Coyle. He coninued, "Today, maybe, sports need television to survive, but it was just the opposite when it first started. When we (NBC) put on the World Series in 1947, heavyweight fights, the Army-Navy football game, the sales of television sets just spurted." With only 190,000 sets in use in 1948, the attraction of sports to the networks in its early period was not advertising dollars. Instead, broadcasters were looking toward the future of the medium, and aired sports as a means of boosting demand for television as a medium. They believed their strategy would eventually pay off in advertising revenues. But because NBC, CBS and DuMont manufactured and sold receiver sets, their more immediate goal was to sell more of them. Sports did indeed draw viewers, and although the stunning acceptance and diffusion of television cannot be attributed solely to sports, the number of sets in use in the U.S. reached ten and a half million by 1950.

 Sports, the first "reality tv" shows have continued to bring us all the drama, excitement, mayhem, murders, mysteries, tears, dreams, glory, underdogs, champions that any "reality" show has done. And, yet, talk to many a sports enthusiast and they are loathe to call sports "entertainment" or athletes "entertainers". 

Nevermind that the athlete would cease to be paid if no one cared to watch their sport. AH-HA, says the sports enthusiast, THAT'S WHAT MAKES AN ATHLETE DIFFERENT, S/HE WOULD STILL CONTINUE IN THE SPORT! And how is that different than the actor in the off Broadway show, or the local town theater? 

Can a college violinist get paid a cadillac, while still at school, if he promises to play in the Portland Symphony instead of going off to Philadelphia without being penalized in some petty manner? Why is college/university sports dictated to by some petty organization that makes babies out of full grown adults? People old enough to die for our country but not old enough to know whether or not someone is taking advantage of them by buying them a car while they are still in school? What the heck kind of rules are those? Really! 

Why have we made gods of our athletes? If Tom Cruise was raising fighting cocks would they take away his actors guild card? Should they? Of course not. If you or I do something illegal we shouldn't have our means of regaining our position in society stripped from us. Why, in the name of sanity, would someone who has paid their debt to society (ie served their time in prison and are now out) have to beg for their license to continue in their occupation?  Especially an occupation like ENTERTAINMENT! If the people want to punish the person they WON'T COME TO WATCH. And whoever hired him/her knows "whoops".  But the licensing organization has no right to keep the card from the person.

It comes back to a whacky society. A society that, on one hand, bemoans the fact that "kids nowadays refuse to take responsibility for their actions" and on the other hand, this same society will say, "Reparations? Why in the hell should I pay for something that happened before I was even born?" Because, dumbass, it wasn't before your country was born and its your country that owes the damn debt! It says so in the damn precious federalist papers and every other founding father paper that the reason they kept slavery is because without it our country would dissolve and be bankrupt! 

Anyhu, this gets back to sports. Its just an entertaining game. There, I said it. And when the entertainers screw up or displease me (whether or not I loved them on some other night) I'm gonna say so. Monday night I didn't see the big "OH", I saw a bunch of little uh-ohs. Yeah, it was nice they got that far. Its just too bad their coaches didn't play in a bowl game last year so they could be prepared for the bowl game this year, like Auburn. OH! Whoops. Erase that, reverse. Auburn didn't play in a bowl game last year, did they? Which team DID play in a bowl game?

Thank goodness we have Beaver Baseball and Jordan Poyer to look forward to.

Black Monday

Sigh, sob, sigh, sob. ...

Sob.

The Ducks lost and ... we have the same governor. The sky reflects my heart.

Sob, sob, sob.

No, that isn't me crying.

sigh ... yeah, I see the fog rolling in. It'll hit about 8:45 am, Wednesday morning. Yippy skippy.

Keep The Wave Going!

GO°¨¨°º¤ø¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø¸DUCKS¤ø ¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø ø¤º°¨¨¨°º¤ø ¸„ø¤GOº°¨¨°º¤ø
¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø ¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø,DUCKS¤ø ¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø ø¤º°¤GO DUCKS!!
¤GO°¨¨°º¤ø ¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø¸DUCKS¤ø ¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø ø¤º°¨¨¨°º¤ø
¸„ø¤GOº°¨¨°º¤ø ¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø ¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø,DUCKS¤ø ¸„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø ø¤º°¤
......GO DUCKS!!!!KEEP THE WAVE GOING! COPY AND PASTE! GO DUCKS!!!

 Yep, Sorry such a boring post for those of you not "into it" but this is harmless, mindless,  FUN and probably one of the few things that my family, around the world, can agree on! We make allowance for the in-laws (and out-laws!). 

Call Me A Duck

Next Monday night our family is decked in Green 'n Gold from Japan to Hawaii. Skype and Ustream all ready to go, we'll do The Wave around the world!

That is the neatest thing about the new technology, when it works. We spend more time talking to one another using it than we ever did when we all lived in the same town. Maybe we are just getting older and recognize how precious our time together is? I don't know. It is fun when we have all five laptops running skype and the sixth one running our Ustream channel, showing whatever it is we are all commenting on, be it a family party or a football game, or a wedding. We feel more connected, the far away less left out.

Having Charter Cable for our internet server makes it rather difficult, as we tend to be the hub of it a  lot of the connections and Charter tends to suddenly quit on us for no apparent reason. Don't you just love calling  Charter and getting that automated system? Do you even bother unplugging and plugging back in the modem anymore when you know darn well the tech that gets on 10 minutes later is going to ask you to do the same thing?

I am thinking of going to Virgin Mobile broadband and its MiFi 2200 hotspot.  Does anyone have any comments on using Virgin Mobile in our area? It would be the same network as Sprint. It says that it will cover our home as well as all of Astoria, Warrenton and Seaside. Anyone have any comments on that?

If Virgin Mobile works out then I think we will get rid of Charter, pay whatever the early disconnect fee is, cause I think we signed up for some sort of cable & internet bundle, and then just go with their cheapest cable price. We don't watch their movie channels, we watch netflix. We watch a lot of tvduck.com and Hulu. All I watch is reruns. The only thing that the guys would miss is sports if we totally abandoned cable and we are just about this close, too.

Here's a little video I am sure you all have already heard it, but one can never get enough of it, eh? I hope we hear a lot of it not only up to Monday, but a whole lot of it next Tuesday, too! Come on, Beavers, ya' know we would be cheering for you (think baseball, we'll be there for ya').

BANG! Happy New Year Michael Vick!

Let's start the New Year off with a BANG! Let's discuss Michael Vick and the US of A's fickle and double standard society at large. While having a butt load of meat, such as chickens raised in heinous conditions, veal from calves that have never seen the light of day and farmed fish that have never known the freedom of the open seas, in our freezers and on our shelves society continues to condemn Vick's past involvement in dog fighting.  

Vick was released from prison in 2009 after serving a 23-month sentence at Leavenworth Penitentiary in Kansas as punishment for his involvement with the Bad Newz Kennels, a dogfighting operation Vick ran at an estate he owned in rural Virginia. While dog-fighting was a part of his cultural heritage he owned up to it as being illegal and he took his punishment "like a man," and while in prison didn't blame others, even when financial ruin followed shortly behind. 

He has since left prison and been re-instated in the NFL to playing status, hired by the Eagles and is doing very well for himself and that appears to really, really piss people off. Apparently, he was supposed to get out of prison, start shooting up heroin, and end up out on the streets having spasmodic flashbacks to the times when he was violent with dogs. Just as we all do with each bite of our Insert-the-State-Here Fried Chicken, right? 

 How many people watch dog fights? If this wasn't a popular event would it be a profitable one? Are we concerned that all those people watching these events are out there, walking our streets, probably policemen, firemen, teachers, childcare providers, bus drivers, and health care providers? Are we outraged about how they are just living "normal" lives right now? Maybe that item they just bought online from you came from their winnings after betting on a dogfight? 

Society is outraged at Vick not only because he picked an animal that many of us consider "cute" to treat like many of us treat the animals we eat, but because he also belongs to that station many of us have chosen to idolize. If it was an entertainer from another spectrum of  the talent pool, such as a movie star, would there be any doubt of him returning to the screen? Would someone suggest that his guild card be pulled? Vick is merely an entertainer, something a portion of society has yet to acknowledge. Sports are entertainment, people. When the sport they are participating in stops being entertaining people will stop watching. If people stop watching the money stops. If that isn't a definition of what entertainment is I don't know a better one. Stop making entertainers into gods and you won't be outraged when they are human beings.

Vick broke a CULTURAL law, folks. He hurt an animal that has a face, an animal that many of us choose to have as pets and choose to attribute human feelings to. He said sorry, and he had his freedom revoked for 23 months. He can never own a firearm nor can he vote. Forever he has the word "felon" on his resume. But that isn't enough for some folks. Nope, they want him to either continue living only if it is a miserable life, or to have been actually executed for conducting dog fights!

Everything that we do, as human beings, has an impact on life around us. Is the answer to this fact complex laws regulating all of our movements? That would seem to be what many people want to see happen. "One law fits all" society where we each take pleasure in tattling on each and everything that we see the other doing. I honestly see little difference between what Vick was doing and what happens to veal calves or fish. People talk about the horrors that deer go through being chased by hunters but no one sticks up for the fish being played out by the sports fisherman. Why? Because fish aren't cute. It's hard, even after Finding Nemo, to ascribe human empathy to fish. 

Over and over again those who want the environment, be it cultural, political or physical, to go their own way look for the short cut of doing it by force rather than by education but it is well proven that when people are educated and make a change because they own the ideas the change spreads and inspires more change, the changes feeding on one another. And yes, they are not controlled.and can be chaotic for a while. They are born out of the best in us which cannot be controlled, at the most it can be guided. 

When our educational systems join the 21st century and teaches our children how to learn instead of what to learn, when the system relearns what its ultimate goal is, then will our society begin to change in a profoundly different and deeper way. When we look at our children as gems waiting to be mined, and not by us but by their ownselves, our society will change. The cruelties that we see, manifesting themselves against animals, the earth, whoever or whatever is "different", will fall by the wayside of our own volition. 

Until then, our prisons will remain full of addicts, the mentally and emotionally crippled, the political dissenters, the cultural mores challengers and the very few real criminals that choose to inflict carnage on their fellow man to satisfy their own selfish desires.

That was then, this is now

Our thirty year class reunion was last August. It seems like every since I have been taking many strolls down memory lane regarding my childhood I have been spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about my past. It is amazing, to me, how much of my happiness has been in the past 10 years. True, contented, happiness.

I have heard some people say they had idyllic childhoods or that they peaked in high school. When I think back to those years I know I can look forward because the best is yet to come.

I have great childhood memories, some good grade school memories, and ok Jr. High School memories, not so fond of High School memories. It seems so weird that my hubby plays either no role or a negative role in those memories. The man who is now such a pivotal part of my life wasn't in those years, and yet, now, my best times have been with him.

Conversely, my worst times have also been with this man. The bad memories I have from school appear to have something to do with him. And, in the twenty plus years we have been together we have been through some real, real bad times. But, as everyone knows, bad times do make good times all that much better.

Hubby and my memories of school helped us to come to the decision to homeschool. It had very little to do with the kids and everything to do with the teachers. When a certain middle school principle condescendingly told hubby and I to harken back to when we were in school. He actually told us he was the same man that was our principle (he was the vice principle) and we should have just as much confidence in him now as we did then. We both realized we did and we yanked our kids.

It dawned us both that those teachers would have our children 40 hours a week. Those teachers who threw chalk and erasers at kids out of frustration, anger, teaching apathetically or even those who taught passionately but just from their point of view and then tested kids based on their slanted viewpoint of life.

One of the cool things of marrying someone from school who was in the same grade but in a completely different circle of friends, as well as a different religion, is that we have been able to compare stories. I learned that all those times that hubby and friends skipped school were not spent drinking and partying. They had an elaborate forest treefort, actually more like a tree village, that they had all built and which they spent many long days defending in bb gun wars. This continued on up into high school. Many battle scars are from bb gun bullets shot at too close of range or if someone had pumped more than they should  have, making the shot more powerful.

I learned that the spit wads in my hair in ninth grade English were my hubby's doing. No, nothing so romantic as love, or like, in the least. I was the weirdo Bahai with "stuck up" friends. Ninth grade English was miserable for me. None of my friends were in it and I was plagued by hateful boys sitting in the backrow. Hubby is shame faced about it now. More so because he sees it not only as my spouse, but as a Baha'i himself.

For me, that was the hardest. Baha'i camps and retreats were these totally awesome places. You didn't have to fake being anything, you could just be you. No one ever called someone a "fag" people didn't stare at black people and call them names behind their backs, two girls could actually hold one another's hands, even in eighth grade, without hearing snickers. And there were no wall flowers at the dances. No one ever said "no" if you asked them to dance, and you never said "no". The older kids always looked out for the younger ones. It was so "cool" to have a college boy ask you to dance, which made all the other guys want to dance. Our dances weren't divided up into ages. So you had everyone out there dancing.

The camps were family camps, mostly, and so there wasn't the "oddness" of jamming this group of people, all the same age, together to try to figure out life using all the same half assembled tools and coming to the same, untried, sophomoric, answers. You were with a diverse group of people of all ages and races and they were electric! Then you would come back home to plain, old, boring "vanilla."

After hubby went to his first camp after becoming a Baha'i he exclaimed, "THATS what you got to do on school breaks?" He was flabbergasted at how I could come home from something like that and turn around and go to school on Monday. While it often was reinvigorating, around the second or third day back I would hit a wall, and it would be depressing for a day or two. It wasn't just the kids. It was the teachers. We were living in pretty hopeless times, then. It was the '70s. We had been lied to by Nixon, we knew that the Russians had "the bomb" but we also knew that crouching beneath our desks wasn't going to save our butts from anything! Our school had a bomb shelter (the locker rooms) city hall had a bomb shelter, and I can't think where else but I do remember learning in our health class how to look for the upside down dotted triangle signifying a shelter was nearby.

While our Faith taught us we were at the beginning of a new 500,000 year dispensation our schools told us to prepare for the end of the world. Our graduating class, if I remember correctly, was called one of the most apathetic that our high school principle had ever encountered. In our health class our teacher, Ms. Brown, taught us that if we were abducted, to submissively follow the captors orders as our chances of being released alive increased for submissive people, while fighters died. How weird, I thought, to teach a classroom of sophomores to be submissive.

Being the naive person that I was, and thinking teachers liked input even when it countered what they said, I piped up, "My mom told me to never, ever go with anyone who tried to grab me. I am supposed to fight, scream, and do anything to draw attention to us." Ms. Brown fixed a glare on me, "Even if he has a gun?" she sneered. "Especially if he has a gun. My mom says if he is showing a gun and his face he's probably going to shoot me anyways and I have a better chance of getting help if I am shot downtown Astoria than out of one of the logging roads." I didn't think then was the time to add what else my mom had said, "And if you do go with the man and we find your body shot and mutilated I will scrape it up off the logging road and beat it." Somehow, it made her sound a little crazy and took away all the logic of the first part of her advice. 

I remember that the teacher was not thrilled with my answer and commented dryly that while we needed to follow the advice of our parents and our own safety plan for the sake of the test HER answer was the "correct" one. Another reason we homeschooled our kids. Deduction and reasoning not allowed, one correct answer for the masses and only one. 

Then I remember being frightened so often. What would friends think if I said this, wore that, did the other? What if I don't know the answer? What if I do know the answer? Can't be too smart, can't be too dumb. So much of my life seemed to be controlled by what others thought about me. What is funny is I can't remember when I stopped caring what others thought. Not the "in your face" not caring, but the true, not even realizing it, not caring. 

I know that now there are times when I care, but it is times I consciously choose. There are times when feed back from others is something I would like, but somehow it has morphed. Then it was friends, teachers, co-workers and bosses. Now it is husband, parents, children, grandchildren. Wow, I have grandchildren! Yeah, it is great when a story I have been working on for weeks, or sometimes months, gets noticed and complimented, but I wouldn't stop writing if I didn't get it. If I didn't KNOW that my husband had my back? It is something I cannot even conceive of. If I didn't KNOW I had my children's love? Chilling thought. 

Then and now. I like now. Even with the gray hair, sagging skin, wrinkles and pains. I choose now, and I look forward to tomorrow.

Ghosts of mistakes past

As I write here I am conscious of the fact that other people's lives and their stories are their own. Even when they are "my" children and grandchildren their story does not belong to me. When mine were growing up they confronted me one time and told me that as much as they enjoyed hearing about stories from their childhood they were very uncomfortable hearing their lives played out to people they hardly knew. What I thought of as "funny" or "cute" they thought of as embarrassing and humiliating. And even some events I expressed with pride often made them uncomfortable because how I saw it come about or maybe the motivating force for them wasn't what they saw as their reality.

For the year following it was hard to join in family or friendly dialogs about children. What is their "private" life and what "belongs" to us, as a family? I thought about how I would feel to overhear their comments on me. I cringed. As a result I have tried to let their stories be there's and when I tell stories here not to use their names so it is my story, my perception, my reality and not necessarily what "is" or "was". How one sees oneself is very important in how one projects and protects.

That being said the following story is not a happy one. It is about ghosts. While they can't always be seen, and the only power they have is what you give them, they are there, always. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. It often gives one the impetus to preform great works, or to remain steadfast, or dedicated, focused. On the other hand, they can drive some to obsessions, depression, or revenge. I strive for balance when dealing with my ghosts. I thank God for my husband, who helps with perspective. He still isn't sure whether I was his reward or punishment for his own past!

People have asked me where I get my "focus" and "drive". Others have accused me of being "obsessed". It is the way I deal with one of my ghosts. One thing I have learned from my ghosts is that in this world, in this country, in this state and especially in this county there is no such thing as "justice". There is a semblance of justice in the secular world but for those who do not have a religious or philosophical conviction, that not only explains why we have such injustice in this world,  I do not understand why they bother to continue to care. They do amaze me, especially the ones that still think the best of people.

More and more I find that the RUHI curriculum holds the answers and promises for a better tomorrow. For the first time in the history of humankind there is a curriculum that puts into practical practice the "theory" of democracy, the absence of hereditary or arbitrary class distinctions or privileges and teaches true consultation and the basics. Through RUHI the king learns to consult with the ditch-digger, with a true appreciation and respect for the ditch-digger's opinion. The ditch-digger learns his innate worth is equal to a king's and thereby his opinion is. They both learn that oppressing one from expression or ignoring the other through rebellion hurts not just themselves but the whole. The experience is incredible. At first blush the curriculum looks entirely too simple. It is only through exposure, through the doing, that one begins to learn the potential of this incredible, incredible tool. It is exciting, and without it I would not be a happy and (fairly) balanced person.

The injustice I see would be devastating to me, and sadly I know we see very little of what so many in this county, state, country and world are exposed to on a daily if not hourly basis. I am weak. My ghosts often seem too heavy for me to bear to look at. In the bright sunlight they fade almost to nothing, but in the night hour they appear all too clearly. 

In this county there is more than one family with a "heritage" of pedophilia. We, as a society, look the other way as our children's innocence is literally ripped away from them. We tell ourselves they are so young they won't remember. A truth or something we desperately need to believe? When they blow their heads off at the age of 19, 20 or 21 we tell ourselves it was the booze, the drugs, their age, whatever it takes to not allow the thought that we failed them, we allowed something to hurt them when we should have been watching over them. Amazingly, some think that since they lived through it, so can their child. Few stop to think, "Is this really living?" And those that do, what do they do if they think it isn't really living? Turn to drink, drugs, death?

I failed as a mother. Not a day goes by that I am not conscious of that fact. This isn't a plea for anyone's sympathy. It is an acknowledgment of what is. I knew of an evil in our community and because I joined the masses and turned my head one of mine was deeply wounded. The scar is permanent. Scars can be a mar on something that was perfect, or they can be badges of honor. Either way, that is for the owner of the scar to figure out. For the one who allowed the scar? Different than the one who caused the scar. The perpetrator and the victim have their own lives to live. What of those who merely "allowed"?

We cannot remove the scar, nor can we tell the person how to live with it. We cannot mete out justice for the one who caused the scar. I believe, wholeheartedly, that fathers are more rational than mothers when it comes to defending their young. As a mother I have no pity for the perpetrator nor the pedophile family. I try to calm myself by looking at what has become of my sister and how would it feel for others to hold us accountable for her? But a part of me agrees with that assessment. And in this secular world I see no opportunity for justice to prevail.

Reading online I see that the ghost has reared its ugly head once again and in my mind's eye I vomit. This time no one I know was the victim. Do I duck my head, again, and look away? Part of me prays it is not one of the known pedophile families and this new incident has nothing to do with my own cowardice so many years ago. Another part of me is terrified it isn't one of the knowns and a new or unknown family has materialized in our midst.

And what does this county do to help the situation? To help those who turn to drugs or alcohol to forget? Bandaids and punishment, that's what the local law thinks is the solution to all societies ills. The county lost its transition center. It is also looking for new administrators for its drug and alcohol programs. The sheriff and the district attorney are wailing for a new jail and more jail space, wailing for DUIIs to be punished more harshly in DA controlled courts, and everyone is wailing because of the high substance abuse in the county.  Band-aids are wanted everywhere. Is no one asking WHY are people self-medicating? WHY do they want to forget? WHAT do they want to forget?

I am left with what to do to deal with my ghosts. I look for the balance and wonder how to protect when I know "the system" is incapable. The very best I know is education, but not of the mind, of the heart. If you have ever wondered what is it that makes me who I am, as a Baha'i or as an advocate, or just as a reporter, you can find a piece of the puzzle in the ghosts.