His Brother's Keeper

I recently had lunch with my adopted son- two days before he left to take a job overseas for at least six months.

We were talking about Alec, and Jordan kiddingly said something along the lines of "That kid's gonna need a lot of therapy".

Since he was 2, Alec has seen his dad be rearranged and rebuilt from the cancer and graft replacements Ward's needed. We've spent obscene amounts of time in the bowels of the cancer hospital, which is not something most kids have to deal with.

We home school, not because we seek to shelter him from the evils of the world, but because there's no way the confines of a school can teach him all the world has to offer. I have two photographs from a few years ago- the first was taken in Audubon Park in New Orleans, reasonably close to the mouth of the Mississippi River. The second one was taken 6 weeks later in Minnesota where you can hop across a tiny creek- the beginning of the self-same river. Public school field trips to the fire station sort of pale in comparison...

He's been to 26 of the 50 states...so far. One benefit of spending so much time in Houston (at the hospital) has been our proximity to many of the finest museums in the country.

Although we didn't plan on cancer, home schooling has meant that I don't have to choose between leaving Alec here with friends so he doesn't miss school, or dropping Ward on the curb of the hospital. We pack up school and just go.

We don't have blood relations close to us, so have knit together a family that's proven even stronger than blood, and outwardly even stranger than fiction.

Were he in school, he'd only associate with children his own age all day every day, but he's with all ages in tae kwon do and art class, and adults in the hospital and here at home. He's comfortable in every situation, from asking pertinent questions of a museum curator to ordering at a good (read "the food is not in styrofoam boxes") restaurant to finding his way through the miles and mazes of MD Anderson Cancer Hospital to maneuvering our farm in the dark by moonlight on his bike.

When asked about the all-important "socialization" that being in school would provide, the indignity of having to ask permission to pee, the indoctrination of conditioning to react to bells and alarms and not questioning authority, dealing with bullies on the playground, jockeying for position in the jungle of monocultural social clique bullshit I'd laugh, but it's not funny. All I can say is considering what he's faced with grace and bravery, and the maturity and compassion he possesses, I think he'll do roughly 700% better in life than any of the mean little bastards pushing smaller children around for fun when the teacher's back is turned.

Were we in church, we'd be surrounded by people fundamentally the same (pun intended). But we're not. He's been exposed to all types of religion and beliefs and is forming his own opinions on how the Universe works and his place in it.

Among our adopted family members are people of all races, political ideologies, ages, religions, sexual orientations and tax brackets.

And here's the thing.

They all share one very important trait.

Every last one of them cares. They care for their friends and they care for their family. At one time or another they've every one of them been there for us and cared for us, as we strive to do for them.

Every last one of them has shown our son what it is to be human, and good, and decent.

If our son has learned not to be part of his peer group, or part of his church group, or even part of his race or parents' political leanings group, but to look first to the inside of a person- the literal "content of their character", then my contention is not that he'll need therapy because of his raising

but he'll be one of the lucky few of us who doesn't.



Be safe, Jordan- we love you.

I Can't Imagine

My life hasn't been exactly charmed. I've been through some shit, as has my family around me. A friend of mine told me once, "Yanno, I think your reason for being on earth is so the rest of us can point and say 'Hey, things may be pretty crappy in my life right now, but at least I'm not...HER'".

I've been treated badly, physically and mentally. I've been divorced...twice. I lost custody of my two older children and could actually feel my soul weeping from the grief of it. I wore that sadness like a shroud for years and will always mourn what I lost. What WE lost.

I've been poor and jobless and damn near homeless. I almost lost my GOOD husband to death last year and before and since have watched him battle with cancer, and heart disease, and surgery after surgery and pain. So much pain it breaks my heart.

But I've been so very lucky as well.

Though it took years to fruition, we're Home- at last. I've had dear friends who died before getting Home, who died seeing that dream fade away still just over the horizon.

I've never lost a child to death. Never had a house go up in flames around me. Never been in an earthquake, or tornado, or hurricane, or wildfire.

And I can't imagine what my counterparts in Japan are going through. Or New Zealand. Or Haiti. Or anywhere else Mother Nature seems to be doling out punishment with a vengeance.

What do you do when the very firmament becomes unfirm? The wind so relentless, the waves so endless, the fires so devouring that there's no beginning or end to it?

How to keep your family safe when everything is dangerous?

I've always been able to DO something, GO somewhere, take some sort of action to move myself and my family out of harms' way if only by an inch.

My heart goes out to them all, as if I can will them strength to clutch their families a little closer, keep strong just a little longer,

till the earth stops shaking and is quiet again, and though nothing will ever be the same as before, and though they may want to give up and give in to despair and anguish, I know they'll gather their families and their courage and start over again

because that's what Moms do.

I Need Cocoa- Extra Marshmallows

Our Kites are back.

Mississippi Kites- a pair of medium sized raptors that generally don't nest in this area nest HERE, on our place, every year. I heard them first, calling to me as I crossed the bridge, then when I came out into the open they lazily soared above me, their shadows walking next to mine, till I entered the barn and they rode the wind currents to a big tree at the top of the hill. From there they supervised the feeding of the livestock- new to them, as they migrate South every winter.

They're curious, and bold, and tail us around the place conspicuously. When one is tending the eggs or babies, the other still dogs us and reports back to the nest vocally.


And I breathed deeply and thanked the Universe for the sight of them, pushing away the images on the television of people yelling, screaming, rioting not in Egypt or Libya, but in WISCONSIN for pity's sake. Revolting against bad judgment, bad choices, bad government, bad bad bad crazy bad things that are being done to FORCE the hand of the populous, in a show of might, and power, and callousness.

I fear for those people- all it will take is ONE hasty move, ONE gesture of frustration, and I'm so afraid it will turn into something that will never be able to be undone.

On my way to work- a commute that takes me literally over the river and through the woods- everywhere I look in all directions things are blooming. Wild daffodils, early coreopsis, fields of violas, redbud trees knitted together with wild pear trees blanket the entire landscape with a quilt of pink and white.

And I breathed deeply and thanked the Universe for the sight of them, pushing away the article read this morning telling of the horrible cruelty visited on a child in our area- a story not in the local news, but posted in the New York Times- my heart breaks for that little girl and hardens to a sharp brittle blade towards the perpetrators and neighbors and community- all guilty, and all remorseless.

Something is happening all around us, something evil- though the invoking of God's name is making things worse, more divisive- not better.

Prices go up, jobs go down. Politicians promise, then turn a deaf ear to those who elected them.

Instead of the worldwide web opening our minds, they are slamming shut at an amazing rate of speed. Polarization, not globalization. We're so afraid of losing what little we're in control of that our enemies must be small, and anonymous, and cartoonish in dimension.

Easy targets. No gray areas.

But here's the thing.

A discussion I just had the other day. Those who know us know exactly who I was talking to, and for those who don't, lets just say he's a beloved and respected and immediate family member...

"I see what you're saying, but those liberals are all anti-gun, and want us all disarmed. I'm a right-wing conservative for the most part because my 2nd Amendment rights are of great importance to me and our country. Frankly, I don't care who wants to marry who. If the gays at the Gay Pride Parade carried signs showing that they agree with 2nd Amendment rights, there's not a gun owner in the world that'd have a problem with them".

"So...even though the majority of right-wing politicians are violently anti-gay rights, the majority of right-wing voters don't care who you're in love with as long as their personal right to own firearms isn't infringed on?"

"Yep".

"So...why wouldn't it follow that just because the majority of left-wing politicians are anti-gun, doesn't mean that the majority of left-wing voters are? Even the ones who AREN'T gay".

"Goddamn it, I'm not talking politics with you anymore".

Terrify and plant hatred.

Arouse suspicion and point fingers.

Divide and conquer.

Mother Nature will go on. The Kites will migrate and nest. The trees and flowers will bloom in the spring, year after year quietly and without fanfare as they have for time immemorial. That's the anchor I hold onto. And I hold tight with all my strength to my family. Including the right-winger.

All this other mess? Scares the ever-lovin' shit outta me. Because it's a train wreck- it's been building for decades and years and now it's here.

Look around. We don't play well with others or each other, and we're terrible stewards of the planet.

We're parasites and we're fixin' to be shaken off like fleas off a dog.

Human beings share 99% of their DNA with chimps. Not gorillas. Chimps. And that's a shame. Gorillas are strong, peaceful, gentle souls.

Chimps eat their own young, fight each other viciously and spend alot of time throwing their own shit at each other and their neighbors.

*sigh*

Dear Driver of the Dark Pickup Truck...

...let me begin by apologizing for not knowing your gender, age or the exact model and color of your vehicle. I'm generally much better about being specific when I address someone.

It happened so quickly, it was dark outside, and I just didn't have time to notice all the details.

At the time I was too busy contemplating (albeit very quickly) that you were going to kill my entire family.

We were on our way to our adopted son's birthday/bon voyage party- he's taken a job overseas and is leaving tomorrow for at least 6 months.

My 11 year old boy was sitting in the back seat, dressed in a carefully chosen dressy outfit- since he attends neither school nor church his wardrobe contains nothing but jeans, t-shirts and flip flops. This was his first schmancy event and he was dressed to the nines- dress pants, dress shirt, tie AND fedora. The kid was absolutely stunning.

My husband- my handsome beloved husband who has endured so much these last years up to and including almost dying about a year ago and the brave awful road back to health- the man who has one eye, is lacking muscles from having them "harvested" from different parts of his body and is still very much in recovery as opposed to fully recovered- he was driving.

I don't know your story.

Perhaps you were in some sort of emergency-mode and really couldn't wait for that left turn light that turned red well before you entered the intersection. I know it wasn't just lack of attention, because you sped up by a good bit as you were turning to try to beat the light.

You willfully entered an intersection on a red left turn signal and turned left- while speeding.

We weren't even the first car to go on green, so I can't even say we jumped the light...or you missed it by THAT much.

I'm also pretty sure you saw us- our car isn't black, we had our lights on and it's not tiny. Yet you never veered, never slowed. I'll forever see in my mind's eye your truck bearing down on us- straight on a literal collision course to hit us broadside.

What you did wasn't merely stupid. Or thoughtless. Or rude. You could have killed a family of 3. MY family of 3.

I know for a fact that if I had been driving I never would've reacted in time. I'dve not reacted in time and you would've hit us and we'd be...dead. Don't lose any sleep over it though, with the size of your truck, I'm sure you would've been fine.

Ward had to veer at lightning speed and wide- wide enough to allow you to pass, but not so wide as to hit the telephone pole that was in our path on that trajectory.

And he did. My husband, Alec's daddy, reacted and acted and we are safe. Because that's what he does- no matter what, no matter his limitations or pain, he protects his family. And he is our hero on so many levels.

I suspect you are young, probably male, and still immortal as most young people think they are.

I hope you were as shaken as we were by what you did.

I hope you didn't mutter "Get outta the way, asshole", or laugh at our frightened faces in your headlights, or worst of all, that you didn't even register that we were there, in your way, with our lives.

Sadly, I have no trace of hope that you'll read this and it doesn't matter because even if you did you'd brush it off dismissively and never give it another thought.

I'm just a naggy ol' bitch who doesn't want you to have fun, and you have things to do and people to see, and most likely you don't even remember today, less than 24 hours later, that if my ol' man husband at the wheel of the blue Mazda Tribute hadn't reacted the way he did at the corner of Paluxy and the Loop about 7pm last night

you were going to kill my entire family.

It Ain't As Easy As It Looks From the Pulpit

Since the Republicans who rode the "We hear you, America and will make jobs for the jobless our top priority" bandwagon back into office have decided that the best way to make jobs is to repeal healthcare, outlaw abortions and make damn sure Those Gays never get to marry, I have a few things I'd like to say on the subject of Planned Parenthood, since it seems that's front and foremost on the chopping block of moral vengeance.

Here's the thing.

Planned Parenthood does not = Abortions R Us.

I know, I know- that's not what FOX News says.

But I've been a patient at Planned Parenthood- from the ages of 15-20 and 35-45 during times I had no insurance to cover reproductive health. Fifteen years of Planned Parenthood and not ONCE was I offered an abortion. Not ONCE did the personnel say "Honey, here's a year's worth of pills- if they don't work you just come on back in and we'll fix you up good as new".

Because that's not mainly what they do.

Here's what happens at Planned Parenthood.

You call for an appointment. Just like the doctor.

The office is clean and professional. Just like the doctor.

They take your vitals, do a complete physical exam, pap smear, bloodwork and urinalysis. Just like the doctor.

They ask if you have any questions, concerns, need any counseling for anything or problems. Just like the doctor.

You're asked about your income and they use a sliding scale to figure out what you'll pay for your visit- my total cost for the above services plus a year's worth of birth control pills was about $50. Which is decidedly NOT like the doctor.

If there hadn't been Planned Parenthood available to me, I would not have received ANY routine health care during a large portion of my adult years, and a great many women use it as exactly that- the only health care they can afford. And until we here in the US of A have a single payer option for universal health care, that's not going to change

but that's a whole nuther kettle of worms.

My POINT is that to attack and de-fund Planned Parenthood does not simply mean an attack and de-funding on abortion. It means yanking the only available affordable SAFE care a lot of women have away from them.

Women like me.

I hate to muddy up the whole Right vs. Wrong Black vs. White waters, but here's what I want you to think about for just a minute.

Say you're a 15 year old girl. You go to church every Sunday and your parents raised you strictly but lovingly.

Although you are taught that compassion, forgiveness and love are the basis of your religion and family, you see the actions of your church differently- anyone not toeing the line of morality is not looked upon kindly and frankly not welcome anymore. And your parents agree with that. Because those who don't follow the Word of God when they know otherwise are willful sinners and should not be associated with.

You and your boyfriend get a little carried away, because yanno, you're HUMAN and all. He didn't have a condom and you weren't prepared because if you were so armed, you'd be PLANNING on sinning.

You miss your period. Then another one. Your body tells you things you don't want to hear.

You're scared stiff and when you're alone you spend a lot of time crying and throwing up.

Things your parents have said about other girls "who got into trouble" play over and over in your head- they were sinners, they're going to hell, how could they be so Godless and selfish? How could they bring such SHAME into their family?

You clearly can NOT go to your parents.

Things you've heard thundering out of the pulpit play over and over in your head- the wages of Sin are Death, only the Pure will enter the Kingdom of God, giving into the Pleasures of the Flesh is Evil.

You clearly can NOT go to your pastor.

Every vestige of a support system is unavailable to you when you most need it. You simply cannot endure the anger and disappointment that will show in your parents' eyes, the disapproval and judgment in the eyes of your pastor and the rest of the congregation.

You go to Planned Parenthood and tearfully tell them that no- you cannot have this baby- no one would understand. And you mourn that baby for your entire life.

The End.

What purpose does closing Planned Parenthood serve, what purpose the acres of little white crosses and picketing and harrassing patients and caregivers?

When what NEEDS to be changed is our society- until ALL women have options and support, until they KNOW they have options and support, until young girls grow up seeing those around them literally practicing what they preach and not saying one thing and doing another- not advocating love and submission to God's will and then judging others without knowing their hearts. These are the changes that need to be made, not closing clinics or vilifying women who are very very aware of what they are doing and whose hearts are breaking just fine without your help thank you very much.

The girl in the story- are you angry at her? At the clinic?

Then you don't get it.

And may your God have more mercy on your soul than you have for others.

WHY AREN'T VENUS FLYTRAPS NATIVE HERE?

Yanno what I hate?

I hate when I'm on Facebook and there's an invitation to join a page and I click on it and afterwards think "Was that such a good idea?"

Today, for example. I've been away from the computer except for "work stuff" all week and haven't had a chance to blog. So I've had all week to get good and worked up about so very many things

...and yet.

I clicked "I am attending" to this-

http://www.facebook.com/?sk=lf#!/event.php?eid=189170184442695&index=1

A day of Peace. Today. Because it sounded like a good idea and pretty innocuous.

*Then I read the rules*

I have to be nice. All day. To everyone. About Everything.

I'm not sure, but that may do permanent damage to the vengeful hateful little core that keeps me alive.

But I'll give it a shot. For the sake of Peace.

Because that's what my 11 year old boy wished for blowing out the candles of his birthday cake with the peace sign on it.

I'll give it a shot.

So for today there is no ranting, no spewing, no frustration- just some photos of early spring wild flowers here on the 'stead, all of them completely and obstinately non-carnivorous, which would've given me at least a tiny bit of satisfaction.

*Peace- and I'll see ya'll tomorrow...if I haven't spontaneously combusted.

I'll Take a Handful Of the Little Yellow Ones, Please

So, we were watching our morning dose of "What the rest of the world thinks is normal and/or important" via Good Morning America. We like to do that right after viewing the morning traffic commute information for Dallas- the two together sorta act as our daily affirmation of how much we love our life, and a renewed certainty of what we endeavor to avoid at all costs.

Most days, there's at least one thing that makes us go "Huh. Weird". or "SERIOUSLY?" and every so often we can literally see the letters W T F flashing red inside our eyeballs at something especially insane.

The day in question was one of those days.

There was an expert (there's always an expert) who was also a psychiatrist talking about a NEW syndrome for people to be plagued with-

*FRUGAL FATIGUE*

Huh. Weird. SERIOUSLY? WTF???

Apparently, because of our recent National Economic Downturn, people have had to (wait for it...) WATCH THEIR POCKETBOOKS.

And that has made them sad, nay more than sad- they're (insert whiny voice) TIRED OF PINCHING PENNIES.

Tired of Pinching Pennies= Frugal Fatigue.

The good doctor on the TV warned that if Frugal Fatigue is not addressed properly and with all due respect, the afflicted will be likely to fall off the bargain bin wagon and (wait for it...) GO ON A SPENDING BINGE.

Once I got over my shock and horror at this new malady gnawing at the very loins of our Great Nation, I was stricken with a vision, a clue, a prophesy if you will about how to cure Frugal Fatigue without the help of physicians or pharmaceuticals.

So here's the wickedly simple fix for Frugal Fatigue, America-

GROW THE HELL UP.

Yep- I've had to pinch pennies all my life and other than the times I've been caring for newborns or working 2 full time jobs to make ends meet, I've yet to be fatigued for even a second.

In fact, I'm generally tickled pink to find a deal- I consider it the height of the shopping experience to see something I like, then find it at a deep discount (or at Goodwill) before making an actual purchase. I love Goodwill. I get a very real and physical thrill at coming home with a huge bag of clothing- all name brands- and having spent under $50 for what would be $500 worth of stuff at the mall.

Shopping wisely and making every penny count two or three times isn't a burden- it's good budgeting and fiscal responsibility. To give it a medical name is the first step.

That's "Recognizing the problem".

The next step is to find a drug to fix it.

Disgusting.

I can't stand all the advertisements- anti-depressants, anti-insomniacs, what the hell? "Do you find yourself sad and worried most of the time?" "Do you lie awake at night unable to sleep?"

OF COURSE WE DO, YOU ASSHOLES- OUR COUNTRY'S IN THE SHITTER AND WE'RE EFFECTIVELY HELPLESS TO FIX IT OR CHANGE THE COURSE OF OUR OWN MEAGER LIVES.

*ahem*

I'd be horribly remiss if I didn't share the handy hints to stave off the dreaded "spending binge" Frugal Fatigue may trigger, so here they are-

-allow yourself a small luxury now and then- sort of a valve release so you don't just one day go ballistic in Dillards and need a UHaul to get yer stuff home.

-only carry cash- that way you have a very tactile sense of spending money- you aren't just slapping the plastic on the counter, you're counting out actual greenbacks.

-(this one's my favorite) only carry big bills, because you'll be less likely to want to break 'em into change. Notice it says "bills" plural. Like we've all got a mittful of Ben Franklins to walk around with.

That right there told me how very far removed the expert psychiatrist and the hosts of Good Morning America really are from the reality most of us move around in.

The heartbreaking thing is that people are sitting around watching this drivel and thinking "Hey- I'm pretty pissed off and tired of not having any money- I think I've got this here Frugal Fatigue" and simultaneously "Someday I'm gonna be just like those people on the TV- that's the "normal" we're all supposed to be shooting for".

No. It's not. None of the above. If you get up every day and work your ass off to keep your family fed and clothed and happy, and you do it by shopping the sales racks and discount stores and never having a slim dime to put in the "entertainment" column of a budget sheet, YOU ARE A WINNER AND A HERO.

And don't let any talking head or PHD or TV ad with a computer generated moth on it tell you otherwise.

Rock On.