Sunday, November 29, 2009

Goings On

It's nice to have the widget over there to the right with the music seemingly pre-set to be a muse this evening. It feels like a week since I read anything, visited anywhere, or got a damn thing done in the house. And it shows...

Just as I am rallying today Trooper wanes and falls victim to the same crap. Such is love, my darling... But he does not get to lay in bed. Paperwork is due tomorrow and he has evidence to process and the papers to get across the county before midnight. At least tomorrow he can sleep all the day long. It isn't much but it's all I've got to comfort him.

I grow melancholy with the season, not really wishing to do more than wander through the rooms. I tire of my work, more behind than ever, and threatened there with foolish warnings if I do not rehash my every task in their bloody horrid database. If we delivered that piece of shit to a client they'd sue us. So...tomorrow I have to set my mouth and just do it, trying to decide if I can wait until the new year to cash out the 401k - if it will lose much in the interim. I figure if I wait to toss it onto the next tax year I might get out of it entirely. Assuming the inevitable failure, of course. Would utter collapse be worthwhile if it ended the IRAsses?

I watched people this weekend at the fair, thinking about how they would all end badly...so many trust that their kind, public thievery and redistribution will buy them a Get Out Of Gang Rape Free card. They will feed on you, mad fools. And how can you not see it? My eyes shifted away, blinking, trying to put on a smile over the hot cider. I felt a kind of motherly sympathy for them, the unwitting. Trooper and I shared a bit of derision as a father kindly explained that the horses were going to dig up the field. Even the mules on the team snorted at him. Is that how far we have come from it?

We watch from our soft perch discussions on tactics, mechanics of this rifle against another, review historic battles and modern warfare. Every moment is spent trying to learn something that might help. And even with all that - all that information - I know that I am still a helpless infant against what will come. I shall do better than most but I think it will not end well. And I worry about it, sometimes.

I press him about the gifts, trying to find the right ones for those young and promising friends. We've no children to spoil and so take on those, getting what might help in those coming days...buying larger for the growing to come...

I want to tell the families - do not spend anything on us but instead on yourself. A weapon, ammunition, food or gas. Whatever suits you best. But it seems rude...not all of them know...or are ready to consider it, whole. At what point is it socially acceptable to rip off a blindfold and show them what you see as truth?

We think of his family, of his old homestead still far enough in the hills that the young men would try to hold it. Wonder if it'd be better to arrange a slot there...but Atlanta is too close. Much too close. No, it's better here. Safer, here. And so we begin to look, again, for the land that is just right. The water, the terrain, the population, and the accessibility. And that is where the money will have to go. An investment in survival.

Along with all this the old carols ring...the season should bring more than just this chill. I tell myself it is just the flesh aging, a protest against this quarter. But something seats deep in my bones and bids me watch. Watch and wait. And in the corner of my eye she wears the blackest feathers, sharp fingers tapping impatiently.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Holiday Horror

What might be the worst personal affliction on this holiday o' feasting? Not being able to taste any of it.

Yes, I've been brought low with a bad cold/sinus infection/attack from the planet Mucus. (Yeah, thanks for sharing, eh?) It began late Tuesday. Wednesday morning I was hardly able to get around. Never mind cooking...I completely forgot the pineapple cheese casserole (!!) and Trooper had to make the sweet potato fluff under my nasal-y direction.

I stood back at the dinner, trying hard to not touch ANYTHING but my own plate and glass. I begged off of any affections. I felt utterly useless on the one day that I am usually joyfully cooking, serving and tasting of the abundance...sadly, I could only eat for the sake of civility, making kind remarks while tasting nothing so much as my cough drops.

It was a long day and I was so happy to get to bed. But sleep avoided me. If it wasn't my choking every hour, it was the damn cat trying to sleep on me -whichever side I proferred. Mind you, he's a honking beast of at least 15 pounds. He and I turned round and round in misery, sleeping perhaps 4 hours. And then there was the fair the next day...

I really should have begged off and stayed home. I don't know what I was thinking. But we'd planned the visit for so long...I was certain I'd feel better on - what? - day 3...I wandered the festival, looking at all manner of things but finally could do no more. I found a bench and fell onto it, waiting for Trooper to haul me off to the car, leaving our friends...

I did at least sleep but...I want nothing so much as to just peel off my face and hose out the innards. I will have to put the damned machine to use. (The usual sinus meds give me the worst head creeps and jitters. I cannot stand them.)

No pumpkin pie, no smoked turkey, no cranberry sauce nor chutney...it was all the same bland pablum. What a terrible fate for a cook...

However, I hope the rest of you had a terrific crud-free holiday. Stay safe...

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Sunday Hymnal

Ah, yes...nothing like some spirituals...





Rock on...

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Echoes

I was reviewing some early posts and came upon this one, aged and yet spot-on - as he always has been.

From Billy, back in November of 2006...

"...What you're seeing tonight is only a rehearsal for full-blast civil war in America. Now, it breaks my heart to have to tell you this, and I don't want to see that any more than you do, but there can be no other natural course of these affairs. Sooner or later, that's what it's coming to. And I want you to remember me, Melissa: the kook who told you this back in 2006. Okay?"

Sigh...I wonder if that young Melissa remembers that night, now.


"If you have knowledge, let others light their candles at it."
~Margaret Fuller

That Place

There is one place I've been that instantly lifts from my soul the burdens of life, worries, and dread. And it's strange because it is also tainted so...almost a decade ago and yet that evening still rings loud as did the countdown of the year and the jarring clash of the band as I looked at my pretty shoes.

But even so...even so...it was the place I went to when I'd recovered myself. After all the drama, all the tears, and recriminations...after that madness was danced with and whirled away. I was the healthiest I'd ever been. So I let myself go there, alone this time, to celebrate.

Everytime I drive into town I see that front range peeking and we greet each other with released breath. That is a view not often noted, the Flat Irons stealing the show easily. One has to turn away from them in that meadow to see the undulating hills. And nestled below that town...

I was perhaps 15 the first time I saw it. Visiting my sister in a nearby town, her friend took me there to see the mountains. I was a city girl, entirely. The plains that skirt that range did not look that different - though the air certainly was. But we drove toward that town and my eyes widened. They beg you to come, keep coming, to climb and know them. And so we did, driving to Boulder Falls and (as they allowed it long ago) climbed behind and above them to where the fall was a mere trickling stream.

I remember looking up and up and seeing specks against that rock and having the sudden realization that those were people climbing up there. I hadn't a moment of vertigo before that moment but suddenly it came over me in a wave and I had to put my hands to those rocks to regain my senses.

Those rocks...I do not know what is there that meshes so with my soul. I have a courage and a strength there. I am often self-doubting and trying to work out Plan A, B and C before doing anything. But in those rocks, that air...I just Do.

I'll get there again this winter. I swear it - my feet will pattern that frosty meadow again. I just need to be patient. Not my strong point, no. I have to trust it Will Be. Because I need that place in me. I need that internal exhalation of soul. I need to let it all go even if only for a day.

There's a long night coming...I might not get another chance for a very long time.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Serene

I cannot tell you with what pleasure I saw this posting of dear Sarah, smiling as she hurtles toward motherhood. Mind, I think anyone bringing children into the world as it will become is mad - but I give her a special wink and a nod. She's earned it like so few others have. And I like to think that smart people giving birth to and raising smart kids may be just what we need.

Strange, though - we are like enough to be sisters. I saw in that photo myself at about 26...very weird. They say we each have a twin in the world...

Friday, November 13, 2009

Beliefs

There is a very interesting convo here, noted by Roberta here.

I have, for many years, found it astounding how so many religions across so many centuries have so many common stories and backgrounds. "Hang he pah du rootless tree" easily translated over to a crucifix much later. An ancient triskele becomes a four-legged cross which survived around the world across many ages only to be snatched up as a symbol of German wretchedness. And, it would seem, a taste for blood and dominion was substantiated by a wholesale retelling of a "savior" story.

All these things across all the ages in the name of a God or Gods which none can ensure await them after this path ends. It is faith only that supports them and I am always amazed at what it allows people to survive. Faith alone can move us from the very edge of our lives back to a center. But that faith can be turned by a crafty individual to serve his own purpose. Because it helps to have something concrete to put ones faith in.

My opinion of Islam? An utter sham suited to ensure the pyramid scheme of power continues unabated. Is there a way to find "agreement"? No. The very tenets demand nothing less than our adherence or death. There are no other "outs". Well, that of slavery and tithing for survival.

Does that mean I wish to place them all in a compound? No. However, it does make me itch to thank them all for their time, cash them out and send them back home with a pat on the fanny. Been swell, adios. Happy to deal with you - from a generous distance. Anything less is accepting a risk - a guaranteed risk - that you will have to one day submit or die. "Moderates" will say that there is an option - that the religion isn't so damning. But the religion also states that it's alright to lie, to hide, to deny all if it means the desired end is met. Therefore, no protestations can be trusted on their face.

This also means that we've no business meddling in their affairs. Go home, do whatever you like - there. We will leave you to your advancements or steady decline. It has been our bane that we feel the need to "save" people from themselves. One can extend that all the way back home to the welfare state. Once upon a time stupid people failed. It hurt, usually. And they learned. The removal of that failure, that pain, is what has made this country what it is today.

I know these opinions are not popular. I am confident an educated person could argue me to death over them. But I do not try to wash it over with any manner of "my religion is better than yours" dogma. I know merely what they say. I know them by their acts. I understand their commandments. And I weary of those who will gloss them over with a parental kindness and slap of a wrist and a "they'll grow out of it" mentality. Fine, let them. Just not here, not among us, and let us not be the lab for their explosive experiments in higher learning.

We've our own growing pains to attend to, after all. No?

Morning Diamonds


This is what I was greeted with when I went out with Ranger. What a lovely design! And the first attempt by a very juvenile spider.

Perhaps you can see a few of them in their birth-nest. The mother? A lovely green creature who I cannot find just now...she nursed them so well, moving the strange nugget of silk around the garden until she managed to make this relatively waterproof snare in the serrano bush.


There were scattered trails of silk here and there this morning but only this spider seemed to have the concept down. What an amazing transmission of skills, really. Waking up to the world a few days ago and then knowing what must be done...it was studiously moving the droplets, perhaps aware that their weight could ruin the lace.

I've been rather taken with the whole process, worrying about the mother who hardly had time to hunt. Trooper saw a praying mantis (juvenile) in the area and worried about the war. He hates spiders but even he had to admit this was an interesting affair. We needn't have worried. She snatched him up and stowed him nearby, perhaps saving him to nurse her through the long weeks of waiting. Or perhaps holding it in reserve for her own to suckle upon...
It was a lovely gift of nature this morning.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Plainly Put

Courtesy of this fine man...
I wonder what would happen if fifty million Americans just got up and
started for Washington D.C., by any means necessary, arrived there by car,
train, bus, plane, on foot, and went straight to the Capitol, as many
entering the building as could fit, and then just tore every stick of
furniture out of the two chambers and took it outside and burned
it.

Would the people who made this horror get that? Would they get the
hint?

No. They'd bring marshmallows and gin, and smile - "we're through with that facade anyway".

Veteran's Day Re-post

I've said nothing about Fort Hood because anything I could write would be feeble and foolish against that horrible loss. A friend of Trooper's related a tale of his experience. I hope he won't mind my posting just a bit of it...

At about 1:30, I was sitting on the front row of the theater on the far left side. A side entrance to the theater was located directly to my left about three feet away. I heard three or four muffled “pops” and thought it sounded a little odd. Suddenly, the door near me flew open and a man fell into the theater with a gunshot wound in his back. I started for the man to see what was wrong but two NCO’s jumped up and grabbed the man and laid him on the edge of the stage. One of them shouted “Are there any medical personnel in the building?” Two of the graduates ran to the stage, threw off their caps and gowns and began treating the man as best they could. They announced that his wound was not life threatening. As the man was being loaded onto a stretcher, five or six heavily armed civilian security personnel entered the back of the auditorium with their rifles and pistols pointing upwards. One of them shouted that everyone should take a seat immediately, and believe me, that happened very quickly.

They asked that all senior NCO’s in the building proceed to one of the eight entry doors in the building, and again, that was done immediately. Once the security guys ascertained that the wounded man being removed from the stage would survive, they walked across the front of the stage and slowly opened a door on the opposite side of the auditorium—one which opened out onto a parking lot that separated the Howze Theater from the Soldiers Dome where the rest of the shooting occurred. We could hear rapid gunfire coming across the parking lot. One of the security guys again shouted a request for any doctors and nurses in attendance, and about 15 people immediately moved to the door where the security guys were standing. I heard one of the security folks tell the assembled medical personnel that there were many wounded people in the adjacent building, and that they were needed to help out. The medical people were told to follow the security guys, keep low, and move quickly without stopping. There was no hesitation on their part, they just moved out to do their jobs.

[...] One interesting thing about all this—about an hour after the shooting died down, the loud speakers all over the base started playing the old Cavalry bugle call called “Recall.” I have never heard that on an active duty base before, but apparently the soldiers knew what it meant, that they were to drop what they were doing and return to their units.

As for this day? Perhaps just as well to revisit the words of a favorite man...

Recall, indeed.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Veteran's Day Program Alert

I've a reminder to record this series and the Tivo is set - on PBS' P.O.V. program:
The Way We Get By

Looks promising...

Through A Glass, Darkly

All hail D.W. who gave this to me:




Lyrics here for the older among us with slower uptake...


An early post for tomorrow's solemn remembrance...


Joseph Ambrose, an 86-year-old en:World War I veteran, attends the dedication day parade for the en:Vietnam Veterans Memorial. He is holding the flag that covered the casket of his son, who was killed in the en:Korean War

Saturday, November 07, 2009

Friday, November 06, 2009

You Know The Word, Right?

There is only one word to describe the ghastly bitch here...4 letters, starts with C?

And yes - how was it possible that no one called her out on the first of those blatant infractions? C'mon! I know squat about the sport but I DO know when someone tagteams to trip someone and set up a lovely kick to the skull. Or were they waiting for someone to spit out blood and teeth before being stirred to action?

Oh, let me guess - she knows who she has to blow in this game.

Kudos to BYU for keeping it clean. For being Ladies.

Shhh! Nothing To See...

Why do you suppose this is the first I heard of it?

500 Tons of Weapons for Hezbollah Intercepted by Israeli Navy

Bless `em, it looks like no one else has a stomach for the work these days.

Those Wings

Well, you know me - when the time for the Valor IT fundraiser comes I am goin' all Air Force. I know, I know - we've an Army debt, too, in this house but...the wings - they speak to me.



FYI if you are sending anything abroad...
Recommended holiday mailing dates released for Afghanistan -- [Bagram Airfield - in Afghanistan]The U.S. Postal Service announced its recommended mailing dates for delivery by Christmas to U.S. military servicemembers serving overseas at APO/FPO addresses in Afghanistan.Holiday mail send via First-Class Mail and Priority Mail for servicemembers stationed in Afghanistan should be sent by Dec. 4, 2009 for arrival by Christmas, according to Postal Service officials. The deadline for Parcel Airlift Mail is Dec. 1, 2009, Space Available Mail is Nov. 21, 2009 and Parcel Post is Nov. 13, 2009. Express Mail cannot be used to mail packages to Afghanistan, however Priority Mail is available.

(Get to knittin', C!)

Otherwise, G'bless you all for all the hazards faced - home and abroad.

Monday, November 02, 2009

Land Lots Of Land...

Dear me, I've become enamoured. Yes, of him - the great graph delineator.


This bit of work set me on my heels and made me ever so pleased to have stored what we DO have. And gets the wind in my sails on the rest of the things we simply must do and soon.

That 401k? Soon to be worthless? It's going to be turned into land, seed, and silver. It must. I cannot see anything else possible no matter what happens to that horrid usurper. I needed it put in these terms to see it whole.

Look at it. Just look at it and see the end of days in a very material, matter of fact manner.