As though there can be any sane or intelligent person out there who can have any doubts about whether we have been told truths by our President and this current Administration, today we are presented with a President who is whining about not having been properly informed! Did Cheney forget to pull the puppet strings?
When asking 'who knew what when?' more serious considerations about how much we can believe are raised about what we have been told for the last eight years. Can anyone respect a President who asked no questions when given intelligence reversals and continued his rhetoric about the threat Iran presents?
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
I HAD IT WRONG
For years I have operated on the principle: Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow. Today my father's voice boomed into my head saying, "No! No! No! Do it today; don't put things off until tomorrow....why if I had....the hay would have been rained on and ruined....someone else would have bought that property.......(ad nauseum)". The problem with putting things off, or at least one of the many problems raised, is that once you start a project all the pieces involved migrate out of sight as soon as you leave the room. I had a project all ready to mail just last seven months ago and now I can't find all the parts, proving my point that like mice, they travel when you are least apt to see them.
When I find shoes that fit, and I like them, I usually buy them in each color (I have a wide foot and a high instep so am limited as to selection that fits). I add them to the boxes piled up in my closet, neatly marked with the date and shoe description on the box, often with a picture of the shoe as it came from the store. I'm proud that I almost always put shoes back in the right box. Somehow they also seem to migrate to strange boxes at night. In fact, they are uncanny. A shoe I don't want to wear is always the first found but not the one I planned to wear. Today a new problem appeared. I put on a pair of never worn shoes (They couldn't have been more than a mere ten years old) and after walking through a few rooms, the soles felt like something had shifted. When I lifted my foot, a saw a trail of spongy stuff across the tile floor. The entire spongy sole and heel had deteriorated leaving a space under my foot through which I could see light, as in a tunnel. Had I worn them daily for months, I might have beaten the decomposition. Then my father wouldn't have to be saying, "I told you so." from wherever he is mumbling in my head.
Each day I promise myself I will read through that humongous pile of mail that is dropped and properly dispose each piece. Too often, my don't-do-today-what-you-can-do-tomorrow grabs hold and I can't face another catalog, request to save the world, buy a magazine at a discount rate, pay a bill, or whatever the day's waste of trees drops on me. The piles get higher and the tomorrows just keep adding up until I need the table and just take everything and make one huge pile that "I will look through someday soon." Usually I do manage to throw away catalogs as the season finally changes, otherwise I'm not sure I would still have room to live here.
Today I have resolved to do better tomorrow and will now go to bed and sleep on that vision, hoping I will remember it in the morning.
When I find shoes that fit, and I like them, I usually buy them in each color (I have a wide foot and a high instep so am limited as to selection that fits). I add them to the boxes piled up in my closet, neatly marked with the date and shoe description on the box, often with a picture of the shoe as it came from the store. I'm proud that I almost always put shoes back in the right box. Somehow they also seem to migrate to strange boxes at night. In fact, they are uncanny. A shoe I don't want to wear is always the first found but not the one I planned to wear. Today a new problem appeared. I put on a pair of never worn shoes (They couldn't have been more than a mere ten years old) and after walking through a few rooms, the soles felt like something had shifted. When I lifted my foot, a saw a trail of spongy stuff across the tile floor. The entire spongy sole and heel had deteriorated leaving a space under my foot through which I could see light, as in a tunnel. Had I worn them daily for months, I might have beaten the decomposition. Then my father wouldn't have to be saying, "I told you so." from wherever he is mumbling in my head.
Each day I promise myself I will read through that humongous pile of mail that is dropped and properly dispose each piece. Too often, my don't-do-today-what-you-can-do-tomorrow grabs hold and I can't face another catalog, request to save the world, buy a magazine at a discount rate, pay a bill, or whatever the day's waste of trees drops on me. The piles get higher and the tomorrows just keep adding up until I need the table and just take everything and make one huge pile that "I will look through someday soon." Usually I do manage to throw away catalogs as the season finally changes, otherwise I'm not sure I would still have room to live here.
Today I have resolved to do better tomorrow and will now go to bed and sleep on that vision, hoping I will remember it in the morning.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
A GRINCH CHRISTMAS
The Grinch didn't steal Christmas, he invented it. This is no longer the era of The Gift of the Magi. People should not sacrifice, though many will. People without jobs will try to make the same Christmas they have always made but with great sacrifice after the Holidays. Others will impulsively charge more than they can pay off quickly and be paying for Christmas 2007 until Christmas 2008.
Today I heard a woman in a store say she was only there to buy food for her work lunches. She finished all her gift shopping two months ago. I think there was a halo shining under her hat. It is my belief that, rather than gift giving, people should just be loving and nice to one another all year long.
I am with many friends who feel as I do. I don't lack for anything and usually buy what I want....fortunately, I don't have impossible yearnings. As it goes in the Three Little Pigs, my house is built of brick and is as wolf proof as I can make it.
Today I heard a woman in a store say she was only there to buy food for her work lunches. She finished all her gift shopping two months ago. I think there was a halo shining under her hat. It is my belief that, rather than gift giving, people should just be loving and nice to one another all year long.
I am with many friends who feel as I do. I don't lack for anything and usually buy what I want....fortunately, I don't have impossible yearnings. As it goes in the Three Little Pigs, my house is built of brick and is as wolf proof as I can make it.
Monday, December 3, 2007
TOILET SEAT TREATISE
Toilet seats can make my life comfortable or decidedly uncomfortable. I've sat on wooden seats that were cracked and pinched in an area where only tender fingers should be felt . Cushioned seats, of plastic that ages. can harden and crack, edges sharp as razors. Split seats, while great for training little boys, can trap an overly obese person the seat and bowl.
Temperature may cause a little less physical pain but can be equally unpleasant. I've wondered whether a cold seat that can be anticipated in advance in a cold room is any better that falling into the bowl backwards when it is dark, you are sleepy trying not to wake up, and some inconsiderate male has left the toilet seat up in your bathroom.
While I love Jane Austen movies, I can't help but think of the era of commodes...bad even if there were servants to empty them, impossible to live with otherwise. Outhouses were not an improved invention. I suppose I should be grateful for modern, flushable blessings indoors, but all things being relative, I'd like a nice warm bathroom with a fabric seat that people will leave alone and go use one of the two other bathrooms in the house. Is that too much to ask for from Santa?
Temperature may cause a little less physical pain but can be equally unpleasant. I've wondered whether a cold seat that can be anticipated in advance in a cold room is any better that falling into the bowl backwards when it is dark, you are sleepy trying not to wake up, and some inconsiderate male has left the toilet seat up in your bathroom.
While I love Jane Austen movies, I can't help but think of the era of commodes...bad even if there were servants to empty them, impossible to live with otherwise. Outhouses were not an improved invention. I suppose I should be grateful for modern, flushable blessings indoors, but all things being relative, I'd like a nice warm bathroom with a fabric seat that people will leave alone and go use one of the two other bathrooms in the house. Is that too much to ask for from Santa?
Sunday, December 2, 2007
DECORATING THE HOUSE FOR CHRISTMAS
As I drive in my neighborhood towards my house, people have done 'pretty' and 'pretty tacky'. Some people think more is better. One house has a yard full of everything that can be lit that vaguely resembles the Season. Lights are in every window, around the windows, all along the roof lines, every tree, every inch of what used to be lawn, the fence, the walkway....and I'm still probably forgetting some parts trimmed. a few houses away, there are big, blow up things that look great when air is being pumped in but lie around like dead carcasses all day.
Years ago we trimmed outside; local kids stole bulbs. Little Grinches! That did it! Now I no longer get myself chilled. Everything lives inside where I stay warm and don't have to re-buy all the time.
There are musical Santas, tiny Santas, tall Santas, modified Santas, in every space not filled by an angel or nutcracker. The mantel piece, bay window, top of the entertainment center, and lots of other spaces show off a collection of nutcrackers that has taken forty years to gather, augmented by my daughter's collection, as well. Like the Nutcracker Ballet, I would like to get up after midnight and see all of them alive, just once!
I begrudge having to go though the season. Think, decide, buy or not, wrap, wasted money. Two things I never liked doing are wrapping and mailing things and making salads. Both tasks have crept into my life and labeled themselves necessities! Whereas I went for years without having to do either, my life somehow has become infested with their popping up whether I call for them or not.
If I had a religion I'd change it! I'd change the celebrations that split the world. I'd start with advertising. First I'd start a truth in Ad inquisition, then a campaign for people to stop buying unasked for gifts. No guessing....and here the dream ends.
Years ago we trimmed outside; local kids stole bulbs. Little Grinches! That did it! Now I no longer get myself chilled. Everything lives inside where I stay warm and don't have to re-buy all the time.
There are musical Santas, tiny Santas, tall Santas, modified Santas, in every space not filled by an angel or nutcracker. The mantel piece, bay window, top of the entertainment center, and lots of other spaces show off a collection of nutcrackers that has taken forty years to gather, augmented by my daughter's collection, as well. Like the Nutcracker Ballet, I would like to get up after midnight and see all of them alive, just once!
I begrudge having to go though the season. Think, decide, buy or not, wrap, wasted money. Two things I never liked doing are wrapping and mailing things and making salads. Both tasks have crept into my life and labeled themselves necessities! Whereas I went for years without having to do either, my life somehow has become infested with their popping up whether I call for them or not.
If I had a religion I'd change it! I'd change the celebrations that split the world. I'd start with advertising. First I'd start a truth in Ad inquisition, then a campaign for people to stop buying unasked for gifts. No guessing....and here the dream ends.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
CHRISTMAS IS UPON US
Years ago, a friend introduced me to the concept of a 'Christmas Wish List' on a Bulletin Board in her home. This seemed a great idea until I tried it. If it was a child's list, that was great because you usually coordinated with the parents. Otherwise, you didn't know who else might have bought the same item. Adults never wrote anything on it. Before my grandchildren all grew up, I had a list made out with a name and space for each child, so they could write what they wanted when they were here, usually at Thanksgiving time. It became an aggravation because they wrote ridiculous requests that took up their whole space, filled the spaces of other children, and the list was made totally useless for the intended purpose. Now they are grown and scattered throughout two continents. I no longer see them all at Thanksgiving, or Christmas.
It is a challenge to figure out how to change a tradition that no longer works. There are several challenges here. In my 'golden' years I need very little and find myself trying to unload more than I accumulate. I long ago realized that no one wants my left-over stuff, kitchen utensils, appliances that still work but no longer perform the latest functions, out of style clothing, books that are dated, and sheet music from the last 70 years. If I can't think of what I might want, how can I expect anyone else to guess? If I give a suggestion such as a plant, I end up with a jungle; if I say something funny, I end up with a library of hilarious stuff I have little time to read. Writing checks, while perhaps useful to the giver, hardly seems festive. I have given gift certificates and gotten gift certificates, sometimes to places I might not have chosen but to which I was happily introduced. When I ask anyone else what they want, I most often get, "I don't know."
There is no respite as the time grows shorter to the now dreaded Holiday. I detest wrapping and mailing things, though I used to love to make pretty displays of wrapped presents under the tree. Wrapping and mailing gets to be a greater cost than the gift therein. I feel it takes precious time out of whatever life is left. The stores are mobbed and the whole shopping exercise is torture. Shopping online has become a far better experience, though one has the sense of Russian Roulette as reports of card information being compromised reaches the media.
In short, I'd like a suggestion as to how the pleasure of giving and receiving at Christmas could be brought back other than in my dreams and childhood reminiscences. I say boycott the merchants and only buy what you see that you want to give throughout the year to whomever it might give pleasure. If it 'tis the season to be jolly, where did I go wrong?
It is a challenge to figure out how to change a tradition that no longer works. There are several challenges here. In my 'golden' years I need very little and find myself trying to unload more than I accumulate. I long ago realized that no one wants my left-over stuff, kitchen utensils, appliances that still work but no longer perform the latest functions, out of style clothing, books that are dated, and sheet music from the last 70 years. If I can't think of what I might want, how can I expect anyone else to guess? If I give a suggestion such as a plant, I end up with a jungle; if I say something funny, I end up with a library of hilarious stuff I have little time to read. Writing checks, while perhaps useful to the giver, hardly seems festive. I have given gift certificates and gotten gift certificates, sometimes to places I might not have chosen but to which I was happily introduced. When I ask anyone else what they want, I most often get, "I don't know."
There is no respite as the time grows shorter to the now dreaded Holiday. I detest wrapping and mailing things, though I used to love to make pretty displays of wrapped presents under the tree. Wrapping and mailing gets to be a greater cost than the gift therein. I feel it takes precious time out of whatever life is left. The stores are mobbed and the whole shopping exercise is torture. Shopping online has become a far better experience, though one has the sense of Russian Roulette as reports of card information being compromised reaches the media.
In short, I'd like a suggestion as to how the pleasure of giving and receiving at Christmas could be brought back other than in my dreams and childhood reminiscences. I say boycott the merchants and only buy what you see that you want to give throughout the year to whomever it might give pleasure. If it 'tis the season to be jolly, where did I go wrong?
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