"You are my knight in shining armor"
I've always said-
Every card I give you says that
And has for the last 18 years.
Eighteen years ago you saved me
Penniless
Loveless
Hopeless
You rode to my rescue
In spite of your own injuries
That were every bit as horrible
As my own
I saw you for real
And in my mind's eye
Young and strong
Because even wounded
We were both still
Young and strong
Here's what I now know
Looking back on our life
Any young fool can ride in
Charging steed
Shiny new armor
Unmarred and clean
And be brave
When the knight has been mutilated
His horse crippled
His armor dented and burnt
From years of battles
And he fights pain and weariness
Every single day
But he gets up and
Keeps going every single day
Facing the same dragon
Over and over again
For ME
For our Boy
Our Family
That's courage.
Happy Birthday, Gomez
You are much more than my knight
You're my hero
I love you more today than I did yesterday
More than I did 18 years ago
But not as much as I will
Tomorrow
photo
photo by Sheri Dixon
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
Beauty Through the Decades
I hate mornings in Houston.
Mostly because we're not at home where the only sounds are the birds, the wind in the trees, and the Biteys barking every leaf into place on the entire 12 acres of forest.
Also because if we're waking up in Houston, that means a day at the cancer hospital, and that's always a thrill. Or a royal pain in the ass. I get those two mixed up sometimes...must be why I stayed married to my two ex-husbands for so long.
But here's what I really hate- when in Houston, the only morning TV unless we want to watch Cartoon Network (and all the good cartoons are only on at night) are the perky, helpful, trendy, ridiculous morning shows.
So we were watching one of the morning shows.
And one segment was "Beauty Through the Decades".
For women, of course.
There was a really long table set up with all sorts of crap that we need in order to be beautiful. Arranged by decade from the 20's through the 60's.
The 20's and 30's were an assortment of makeups- eye shadows, eye liners, concealers, foundations, blush, lip color, lip liner, mascara, brow pencils, bronzers, shimmerers, you name it, it was there- all colors and shades, all types and kinds.
All absolute requirements in order to be beautiful.
Here's where it gets weird.
Every decade after that? 40's, 50's, 60's?
No makeup.
No colors.
No shades.
The entire rest of a woman's life is supposedly dedicated to wrinkle creams and hair colors.
Seriously.
Apparently, once we hit 40, the whole 'beauty' thing is behind us, and our main goal in life is to just make sure we're as un-wrinkly and un-gray as possible.
In order to be not horrifyingly disgusting and make people throw up just at the sight of us.
Here's the thing.
In my 20's and 30's I did wear makeup. Never foundation though- it always felt like something suffocating my face. But I did the whole concealer, blush, mascara, eye shadow, eye liner, lipstick thing. And finished it off with compact powder.
When I hit 40, I started having trouble seeing to apply my makeup. So I said, "Screw it" and stopped using it. The only thing I use now is mascara. Only on the upper lashes. I can still do that without skewering my eyeballs with it.
I was afraid that if I stopped wearing makeup my skin would be blotchy and horrid looking and my eyes would disappear behind my glasses. Oddly enough, after being liberated from the stuff that had been smeared on it, my skin evened out on its own and tans in the summer. My eyelids have an actual color and my under-eye area isn't as dark as it was when I was rubbing it with concealer every morning.
Weird, huh?
In my 40's I developed an allergy to any face cleanser- any brand. So I started using my own homemade soap- goats milk (yes, from our goats), olive oil and just enough lye to make it soap instead of an amorphous gelatinous blob. And aloe vera cream as a moisturizer.
That's it. My entire beauty routine.
I did ask the people I live with if I looked OK without all that mess.
Here's the funny part.
The people I live with said I'm beautiful with makeup or without makeup. On accounta they love me.
Some women adore makeup and enjoy wearing it and that's great- if they're doing it for themselves.
But to be schooled on what products we NEED to use to 'be beautiful' by some chicks on the TV?
And then to be literally discarded after age 40 with a "You're not beautiful anymore so don't even try- just make an effort to not be totally old and gross looking, m-kay?"
That's bullshit of the highest order.
And I've seen some mighty high quality bullshit in my day.
See husbands one and two as Exhibits A and B.
Mostly because we're not at home where the only sounds are the birds, the wind in the trees, and the Biteys barking every leaf into place on the entire 12 acres of forest.
Also because if we're waking up in Houston, that means a day at the cancer hospital, and that's always a thrill. Or a royal pain in the ass. I get those two mixed up sometimes...must be why I stayed married to my two ex-husbands for so long.
But here's what I really hate- when in Houston, the only morning TV unless we want to watch Cartoon Network (and all the good cartoons are only on at night) are the perky, helpful, trendy, ridiculous morning shows.
So we were watching one of the morning shows.
And one segment was "Beauty Through the Decades".
For women, of course.
There was a really long table set up with all sorts of crap that we need in order to be beautiful. Arranged by decade from the 20's through the 60's.
The 20's and 30's were an assortment of makeups- eye shadows, eye liners, concealers, foundations, blush, lip color, lip liner, mascara, brow pencils, bronzers, shimmerers, you name it, it was there- all colors and shades, all types and kinds.
All absolute requirements in order to be beautiful.
Here's where it gets weird.
Every decade after that? 40's, 50's, 60's?
No makeup.
No colors.
No shades.
The entire rest of a woman's life is supposedly dedicated to wrinkle creams and hair colors.
Seriously.
Apparently, once we hit 40, the whole 'beauty' thing is behind us, and our main goal in life is to just make sure we're as un-wrinkly and un-gray as possible.
In order to be not horrifyingly disgusting and make people throw up just at the sight of us.
Here's the thing.
In my 20's and 30's I did wear makeup. Never foundation though- it always felt like something suffocating my face. But I did the whole concealer, blush, mascara, eye shadow, eye liner, lipstick thing. And finished it off with compact powder.
When I hit 40, I started having trouble seeing to apply my makeup. So I said, "Screw it" and stopped using it. The only thing I use now is mascara. Only on the upper lashes. I can still do that without skewering my eyeballs with it.
I was afraid that if I stopped wearing makeup my skin would be blotchy and horrid looking and my eyes would disappear behind my glasses. Oddly enough, after being liberated from the stuff that had been smeared on it, my skin evened out on its own and tans in the summer. My eyelids have an actual color and my under-eye area isn't as dark as it was when I was rubbing it with concealer every morning.
Weird, huh?
In my 40's I developed an allergy to any face cleanser- any brand. So I started using my own homemade soap- goats milk (yes, from our goats), olive oil and just enough lye to make it soap instead of an amorphous gelatinous blob. And aloe vera cream as a moisturizer.
That's it. My entire beauty routine.
I did ask the people I live with if I looked OK without all that mess.
Here's the funny part.
The people I live with said I'm beautiful with makeup or without makeup. On accounta they love me.
Some women adore makeup and enjoy wearing it and that's great- if they're doing it for themselves.
But to be schooled on what products we NEED to use to 'be beautiful' by some chicks on the TV?
And then to be literally discarded after age 40 with a "You're not beautiful anymore so don't even try- just make an effort to not be totally old and gross looking, m-kay?"
That's bullshit of the highest order.
And I've seen some mighty high quality bullshit in my day.
See husbands one and two as Exhibits A and B.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
GOP's America- Worst. Family. Ever.
So the whole "WE NEED TO DECIDE ON THIS NOW OR THE WORLD WILL END" debt ceiling issue has been decided in a predictable American Guy fashion- we're gonna ignore it till May.
The "due upon receipt" invoices the GOP have been screaming about have been looked at, read, worried over and stressed about till the only sensible thing to do has been to stuff them under the rest of the mail and worry about it later.
Which is totally weird on accounta when the Democrats said, "Hey, guys- the debt ceiling is really something that can wait- maybe we need to talk about other things first- things that are actually, yanno- KILLING people" the Democrats were called all sorts of horrible names and told that they were Traitorous Amer'ca Hatin' Poopieheads.
Because the debt ceiling needed fixed RIGHT NOW. NOW! NOW!
Or May. Whatever.
I know I'm early (or late) in talking about this but here's what I think of the whole "What if the national budget were a family budget? SEE??? Totally irresponsible unless you're a Commie Government Leech Democrat Welfare Momma!" argument when it comes to balancing our federal budget.
First of all, the federal budget isn't at ALL like a family budget. Mainly because the money owed on it is owed...to ourselves.
So, if my family had had say $100,000 in the bank and wanted to build an $80,000 house, we could conceivably take that money out and promise ourselves we'd pay it back ASAP since that's our retirement savings and all. *Note- this is for hypothetical purposes only- what we have in the bank couldn't build a bird house. For little birds. Like wrens and shit.
After our house was built, say we had other stuff come up- a job loss or big medical expense or something and we just haven't had the chance to pay any of this money back into the account.
Do we evict ourselves?
Of course not.
Even IF the reason our expenses are higher than expected living in the new house and we decide, "Hey- this wasn't such a good idea- it's too big of a house and we need to downsize" in the meantime what do we cut back on?
We sit down and look at the budget and think 2 things-
We need more income AND we need to cut back.
So, being the family member who is able to provide more if I need to, I look for a part-time job to augment the budget because (according to economists of all stripes- not just squishy liberal ones) you CANNOT cut your way to savings- you must also have additional income.
Then we look at spending.
Lets look at the GOP "government budget/family budget" thing and see what it does in real life and for really what they'reasking for demanding like a buncha self-righteous bastards-
Cuts to 'entitlements' which is that whole social safety net thing they hate so much. Veterans? Old people? Children? Women? Sick people? Fuck 'em. Bootstraps, baby- nothing but bootstraps for you.
In a family budget that translates into groceries, doctor visits, school expenses and medicines.
Our Family First GOP is telling America, "Too bad, so sad- we need to cut expenses and cut 'em deep to pay back money that we borrowed from ourselves. No hard feelers, remember if you believe in god, you'll go to heaven and never be hungry or sick again, and if you hurt too much now, you have access to any gun you want to blow your sorry brains out (and maybe your children's too IF you love them).
What the bloody hell?
Who tells their family they must be hungry and sick and uneducated because there was a clerical miscalculation when there's no bill collector at the door with a baseball bat waiting to break your kneecaps but it's just your own damn bank account that's not being paid back?
Self-righteous bastards, that's who.
So I would get a part-time job to increase income and then look at truly expendable expenses- things like maybe cancelling an expensive security system because we're out in the middle of nowhere and we have big dogs patrolling the place that do just fine, and maybe if we went to church we'd cut back on our tithing...
...because for some reason I think Jesus would say, "FEED YER KIDS BEFORE PUTTING MONEY IN THE COLLECTION PLATE".
So as a nation, perhaps we need to look getting the citizens who have the ability to pay more into the kitty to actually do that, then at military spending and probably re-thinking the tax-exempt status of churches.
Just by tweaking those three items in our nation's Family Budget, we could have enough money to feed everyone, offer universal health care and free or low-cost college for all our students.
Because if you're going to use the national budget/family budget analogy, you are automatically projecting that we as a nation = a family. Family cares for each other- even those who don't think like you do politically, even the ones who need a little extra help from time to time.
If it's found out that you are denying your children and disabled and elderly family members food, clothing, and medical care because you are paying money back into your own freaking BANK ACCOUNT, Social Services comes in and you are proclaimed an unfit parent and piss-poor human being.
Why the hell can politicians and propaganda-fed constituents do the same things to fellow Americans and consider themselves exemplary fiscal conservatives?
I keep hearing, "Well? Do we wanna be the next Greece?" as if that's not only a question, but an answer. Greece and other countries are suffering not because they're NOT enacting 'austerity measures' but because they ARE.
Read more than one news source- we have the entirety of the world at our fingertips now- why paint yourself into a corner containing only people like yourself playing an endless game of 'repeat something long enough and it becomes true'?
Acknowledge that other American citizens are NOT your enemies- and don't have to GET OUT if they do or say something you don't like.
IF the National Budget = a Family Budget
THEN ALL American Citizens = Family
Start acting like it.
The "due upon receipt" invoices the GOP have been screaming about have been looked at, read, worried over and stressed about till the only sensible thing to do has been to stuff them under the rest of the mail and worry about it later.
Which is totally weird on accounta when the Democrats said, "Hey, guys- the debt ceiling is really something that can wait- maybe we need to talk about other things first- things that are actually, yanno- KILLING people" the Democrats were called all sorts of horrible names and told that they were Traitorous Amer'ca Hatin' Poopieheads.
Because the debt ceiling needed fixed RIGHT NOW. NOW! NOW!
Or May. Whatever.
I know I'm early (or late) in talking about this but here's what I think of the whole "What if the national budget were a family budget? SEE??? Totally irresponsible unless you're a Commie Government Leech Democrat Welfare Momma!" argument when it comes to balancing our federal budget.
First of all, the federal budget isn't at ALL like a family budget. Mainly because the money owed on it is owed...to ourselves.
So, if my family had had say $100,000 in the bank and wanted to build an $80,000 house, we could conceivably take that money out and promise ourselves we'd pay it back ASAP since that's our retirement savings and all. *Note- this is for hypothetical purposes only- what we have in the bank couldn't build a bird house. For little birds. Like wrens and shit.
After our house was built, say we had other stuff come up- a job loss or big medical expense or something and we just haven't had the chance to pay any of this money back into the account.
Do we evict ourselves?
Of course not.
Even IF the reason our expenses are higher than expected living in the new house and we decide, "Hey- this wasn't such a good idea- it's too big of a house and we need to downsize" in the meantime what do we cut back on?
We sit down and look at the budget and think 2 things-
We need more income AND we need to cut back.
So, being the family member who is able to provide more if I need to, I look for a part-time job to augment the budget because (according to economists of all stripes- not just squishy liberal ones) you CANNOT cut your way to savings- you must also have additional income.
Then we look at spending.
Lets look at the GOP "government budget/family budget" thing and see what it does in real life and for really what they're
Cuts to 'entitlements' which is that whole social safety net thing they hate so much. Veterans? Old people? Children? Women? Sick people? Fuck 'em. Bootstraps, baby- nothing but bootstraps for you.
In a family budget that translates into groceries, doctor visits, school expenses and medicines.
Our Family First GOP is telling America, "Too bad, so sad- we need to cut expenses and cut 'em deep to pay back money that we borrowed from ourselves. No hard feelers, remember if you believe in god, you'll go to heaven and never be hungry or sick again, and if you hurt too much now, you have access to any gun you want to blow your sorry brains out (and maybe your children's too IF you love them).
What the bloody hell?
Who tells their family they must be hungry and sick and uneducated because there was a clerical miscalculation when there's no bill collector at the door with a baseball bat waiting to break your kneecaps but it's just your own damn bank account that's not being paid back?
Self-righteous bastards, that's who.
So I would get a part-time job to increase income and then look at truly expendable expenses- things like maybe cancelling an expensive security system because we're out in the middle of nowhere and we have big dogs patrolling the place that do just fine, and maybe if we went to church we'd cut back on our tithing...
...because for some reason I think Jesus would say, "FEED YER KIDS BEFORE PUTTING MONEY IN THE COLLECTION PLATE".
So as a nation, perhaps we need to look getting the citizens who have the ability to pay more into the kitty to actually do that, then at military spending and probably re-thinking the tax-exempt status of churches.
Just by tweaking those three items in our nation's Family Budget, we could have enough money to feed everyone, offer universal health care and free or low-cost college for all our students.
Because if you're going to use the national budget/family budget analogy, you are automatically projecting that we as a nation = a family. Family cares for each other- even those who don't think like you do politically, even the ones who need a little extra help from time to time.
If it's found out that you are denying your children and disabled and elderly family members food, clothing, and medical care because you are paying money back into your own freaking BANK ACCOUNT, Social Services comes in and you are proclaimed an unfit parent and piss-poor human being.
Why the hell can politicians and propaganda-fed constituents do the same things to fellow Americans and consider themselves exemplary fiscal conservatives?
I keep hearing, "Well? Do we wanna be the next Greece?" as if that's not only a question, but an answer. Greece and other countries are suffering not because they're NOT enacting 'austerity measures' but because they ARE.
Read more than one news source- we have the entirety of the world at our fingertips now- why paint yourself into a corner containing only people like yourself playing an endless game of 'repeat something long enough and it becomes true'?
Acknowledge that other American citizens are NOT your enemies- and don't have to GET OUT if they do or say something you don't like.
IF the National Budget = a Family Budget
THEN ALL American Citizens = Family
Start acting like it.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Are You Sure the Dinosaurs Are Extinct At Night?
So there's this gate.
It's rusted and old, yet heavy as all get out and not warped, cracked or weak.
It was the gate the "For Sale" sign was attached to when I first saw the land we now call Home.
A full 16 ft long, it's not aluminum, but solid iron. Even attached to the tree-like post with hinge pins wider than my thumb, it would work itself loose by turning the hinge pins via sheer weight as it was opened and closed. At that point it would thunk to the ground as I was closing or opening it, jarring my shoulder almost out of its socket as well.
When we built the house, the gate had to come down and the opening in the fence widened to make way for the cement trucks and the log trucks. It was gently set aside for later.
Over on the barn side of the property, there was no gate- just a "cheater gate" made of barbed wire stretched across the opening. When we built the barn, we installed a brand new aluminum gate. It's light and shiny, and swings effortlessly and straight as an arrow.
When it was time to re-install a gate over on the house side, Joe offered to do it and he and the rest of my family begged me, implored me, wheedled and cajoled me to please, please, PLEASE, PLEASE put a twin to the barn gate up on the house side.
Absolutely not.
That gate is part of the farm's history- I'd no more discard that gate than burn down the 80 year old barn that's part wood, part sheet metal, perched on some cement blocks and some big rocks that somehow manages with slatted walls and colander-like roof to keep everything inside it dry. Even Edna holds a grudging respect for the old barn now. Mostly.
So Joe set to hanging the gate.
We set it in from the road so we can pull off to open it- the road is just over one lane wide and although a pretty straight stretch is to one side, the other side curves pretty sharp- it wouldn't take much of a bump from another vehicle to topple us into the creek...and there's a creek on both sides of the road.
There were old railroad ties left next to the old barn and he used one on each side as gate posts. So far, so good.
Because of the weight of the gate, I recommended a wheel be attached to the bottom to help hold it up and not let it pull the hinge pins over, like before.
So he got the wheel.
And found out that they don't MAKE wheels for heavy, square-cut gates. Only light tubular aluminum ones.
Yanno what? You really CAN'T fit a round thing onto a square thing very well.
The gate dragged because the wheel wouldn't turn correctly.
The worst spot was right in the center of the dirt drive where there was a giant root sticking up a few inches- the gate would have to be pulled (cha-CHUNK) over the root.
Blowing the root out of the ground was not a viable solution. Which gave Joe a sad.
Eventually the wheel was removed because it didn't work worth a damn and the gate hung pretty well all on its own. But then it REALLY dragged on the ground when opened and closed just from the weight and width of it and it would now have to be LIFTED over the root.
Finally, Joe pulled the entire shebang off and re-hung the gate...almost a foot higher than before. The gate swung free of the root at last.
I work till 9pm, making me the last one in the gate at night, so I'm out there fall, winter and early spring in the dark closing the gate.
I'd pull the gate shut, chain it and turn back to the car...tripping over the root. Every. Single. Time. Even with a flashlight.
I started calling it the Root of All Evil.
I'm not afraid of the dark. Really I'm not.
There's about 1,500 ft from our gate to our closest neighbor to the east...then another quarter mile in to his house. There's about 3,000 ft. to our closest neighbor to the west...then another quarter mile in to THEIR house.
Across the road from us is over 400 acres of bottomland and forest.
During the day, it's glorious. At night, it's still glorious except when the compies are out.
Remember in Jurassic Park? That guy with the glasses who ended up getting eaten by the cute little dinosaurs in the creek? I swear something at night (not frogs) sometimes makes the cute little noise those comprasauruses (0r whatever the hell they were) made.
Matters not that there's no way we even know what those little things sounded like. That's what they sounded like in the movie and that's the noise I hear at night sometimes and it freaks me the hell out. Because OUR house is over 1,000 ft from the gate.
Which makes it eminently easy to forget and trip over the Root of All Evil.
Most of the time now I'm able to close the gate with dignity, say "Hiya, Root" as I step OVER the Root of All Evil, and calmly get back into my car.
So Nature decided to up her game.
Monday night I got out of the car to close the gate, swung the gate closed, and almost tripped over...
...the ugliest possum I've ever seen.
And that's saying a lot.
On accounta they're absofuckinglutely the ugliest creatures on earth. And I think they know it. And don't care.
So he just looked at me, balefully, and kept walking. Never even tried to avoid me or acknowledge my clearly superior ranking on the food chain.
I hope the compies eat him.
It's rusted and old, yet heavy as all get out and not warped, cracked or weak.
It was the gate the "For Sale" sign was attached to when I first saw the land we now call Home.
A full 16 ft long, it's not aluminum, but solid iron. Even attached to the tree-like post with hinge pins wider than my thumb, it would work itself loose by turning the hinge pins via sheer weight as it was opened and closed. At that point it would thunk to the ground as I was closing or opening it, jarring my shoulder almost out of its socket as well.
When we built the house, the gate had to come down and the opening in the fence widened to make way for the cement trucks and the log trucks. It was gently set aside for later.
Over on the barn side of the property, there was no gate- just a "cheater gate" made of barbed wire stretched across the opening. When we built the barn, we installed a brand new aluminum gate. It's light and shiny, and swings effortlessly and straight as an arrow.
When it was time to re-install a gate over on the house side, Joe offered to do it and he and the rest of my family begged me, implored me, wheedled and cajoled me to please, please, PLEASE, PLEASE put a twin to the barn gate up on the house side.
Absolutely not.
That gate is part of the farm's history- I'd no more discard that gate than burn down the 80 year old barn that's part wood, part sheet metal, perched on some cement blocks and some big rocks that somehow manages with slatted walls and colander-like roof to keep everything inside it dry. Even Edna holds a grudging respect for the old barn now. Mostly.
So Joe set to hanging the gate.
We set it in from the road so we can pull off to open it- the road is just over one lane wide and although a pretty straight stretch is to one side, the other side curves pretty sharp- it wouldn't take much of a bump from another vehicle to topple us into the creek...and there's a creek on both sides of the road.
There were old railroad ties left next to the old barn and he used one on each side as gate posts. So far, so good.
Because of the weight of the gate, I recommended a wheel be attached to the bottom to help hold it up and not let it pull the hinge pins over, like before.
So he got the wheel.
And found out that they don't MAKE wheels for heavy, square-cut gates. Only light tubular aluminum ones.
Yanno what? You really CAN'T fit a round thing onto a square thing very well.
The gate dragged because the wheel wouldn't turn correctly.
The worst spot was right in the center of the dirt drive where there was a giant root sticking up a few inches- the gate would have to be pulled (cha-CHUNK) over the root.
Blowing the root out of the ground was not a viable solution. Which gave Joe a sad.
Eventually the wheel was removed because it didn't work worth a damn and the gate hung pretty well all on its own. But then it REALLY dragged on the ground when opened and closed just from the weight and width of it and it would now have to be LIFTED over the root.
Finally, Joe pulled the entire shebang off and re-hung the gate...almost a foot higher than before. The gate swung free of the root at last.
I work till 9pm, making me the last one in the gate at night, so I'm out there fall, winter and early spring in the dark closing the gate.
I'd pull the gate shut, chain it and turn back to the car...tripping over the root. Every. Single. Time. Even with a flashlight.
I started calling it the Root of All Evil.
I'm not afraid of the dark. Really I'm not.
There's about 1,500 ft from our gate to our closest neighbor to the east...then another quarter mile in to his house. There's about 3,000 ft. to our closest neighbor to the west...then another quarter mile in to THEIR house.
Across the road from us is over 400 acres of bottomland and forest.
During the day, it's glorious. At night, it's still glorious except when the compies are out.
Remember in Jurassic Park? That guy with the glasses who ended up getting eaten by the cute little dinosaurs in the creek? I swear something at night (not frogs) sometimes makes the cute little noise those comprasauruses (0r whatever the hell they were) made.
Matters not that there's no way we even know what those little things sounded like. That's what they sounded like in the movie and that's the noise I hear at night sometimes and it freaks me the hell out. Because OUR house is over 1,000 ft from the gate.
Which makes it eminently easy to forget and trip over the Root of All Evil.
Most of the time now I'm able to close the gate with dignity, say "Hiya, Root" as I step OVER the Root of All Evil, and calmly get back into my car.
So Nature decided to up her game.
Monday night I got out of the car to close the gate, swung the gate closed, and almost tripped over...
...the ugliest possum I've ever seen.
And that's saying a lot.
On accounta they're absofuckinglutely the ugliest creatures on earth. And I think they know it. And don't care.
So he just looked at me, balefully, and kept walking. Never even tried to avoid me or acknowledge my clearly superior ranking on the food chain.
I hope the compies eat him.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Calling All Strict Constitutionalists
Yanno what makes me crazy?
Well, sure. Thinking I've got a piece of hair in my eye and trying to get it out by reaching under my glasses and not being able to find where it's tangled up in my eyelashes and then taking my glasses off to really get after it only to think, "HEY! That knocked it loose and it's gone now" but then putting my glasses on and SHIT it's there again and repeating the above steps all damn day till I realize that the offending hair is attached TO my glasses.
That makes me crazy.
But OTHER than that.
It makes me crazy to watch an inaugural ceremony for the president of the United States of America and have a huge portion of it revolving around god.
Thanking god for this wonderful country and the opportunity we've all got to make it better.
Asking god for guidance to make the above a reality.
Finally a big-ass prayer to god begging his mercy and his grace so that our country is no longer divided ideologically and can come together as one nation...under god of course.
Geez, I must really hate god, huh?
Nope. Not at all. And even if I did, that's absolutely beside the point.
It makes me crazy that the same people who scream and holler about their 2nd Amendment rights and who say it's not about the GUNS, it's about being strict and patriotic CONSTITUTIONALISTS, AND (because I'm not letting the other side off scott-free, either) those who were horrified that Bachmann or Santorum were even considered for the highest office of the land because (among other disturbing lack-of-leadership-ability things) they stated that they considered GOD above the Constitution when making decisions for the COUNTRY...
...all those people absolutely loved the freaking hell out of today's god-filled extravaganza inauguration.
Because this is just one more little nugget of proof that their argument is complete and total bullshit.
The United States of America is NOT a Christian nation, no matter how much anyone may want it to be.
Yes, the majority of people IN the United States are, in fact, Christian.
But we are NOT a Christian nation by order of our Constitution- in fact we are to have NO state religion according to that self same document.
A subtle but hella important difference.
So, to ME- silly old woman that I am- the President should NOT swear on a bible, there should be NO invocation by ANY religious leader, and there should be NO mention of any god whatsoever by our president or vice president AT THE INAUGURATION.
Beyonce can still sing the National Anthem though, she did a fabulous job.
If they wanna go to church afterwards (or before) for a prayer and a blessing?
Go for it.
But DURING the ceremony? Absolutely not.
Separation of Church and State.
Our forefathers thought that was important enough to make that "freedom of religion" thing part of the FIRST Amendment
Even before guns and shit.
And the whole "beseeching your guidance to bring our country together" thing?
That's part of the damn problem- asking the Christian god for help in bringing together a country that's divided by great chasms of theological differences is the opposite of helpful or uniting to the huge numbers of actual Americans who don't happen to worship him.
Oh, I know- President Obama has a hard enough time as it is with all the Muslim Kenyan bullshit and I'm sure he just wants to remind folks that he IS after all, a Christian and an American.
But yanno what? The idiots who believe he's a Kenyan Muslim won't believe today's efforts to prove otherwise.
I'm waiting to hear the "SEE??? See how hard he tried to look NORMAL??? That's PROOF he's a damn Muslim!" crap that's poised to blow out the interwebs like 10 pounds of cheese in a five pound dog after a generous dose of laxative.
Because here's what makes me craziest of all-
President Obama's mother was an American citizen. He'd be an American citizen if he'd been born on another planet.
And even if he WERE a Muslim? There's not a damn thing about that that would render him ineligible for office. Nothing.
On accounta we DON'T HAVE A FUCKING NATIONAL RELIGION.
But where are our strict Constitutionalist patriots?
Oh, I know.
They must be busy disassembling that also-illegal standing armed forces.
That must be it.
Well, sure. Thinking I've got a piece of hair in my eye and trying to get it out by reaching under my glasses and not being able to find where it's tangled up in my eyelashes and then taking my glasses off to really get after it only to think, "HEY! That knocked it loose and it's gone now" but then putting my glasses on and SHIT it's there again and repeating the above steps all damn day till I realize that the offending hair is attached TO my glasses.
That makes me crazy.
But OTHER than that.
It makes me crazy to watch an inaugural ceremony for the president of the United States of America and have a huge portion of it revolving around god.
Thanking god for this wonderful country and the opportunity we've all got to make it better.
Asking god for guidance to make the above a reality.
Finally a big-ass prayer to god begging his mercy and his grace so that our country is no longer divided ideologically and can come together as one nation...under god of course.
Geez, I must really hate god, huh?
Nope. Not at all. And even if I did, that's absolutely beside the point.
It makes me crazy that the same people who scream and holler about their 2nd Amendment rights and who say it's not about the GUNS, it's about being strict and patriotic CONSTITUTIONALISTS, AND (because I'm not letting the other side off scott-free, either) those who were horrified that Bachmann or Santorum were even considered for the highest office of the land because (among other disturbing lack-of-leadership-ability things) they stated that they considered GOD above the Constitution when making decisions for the COUNTRY...
...all those people absolutely loved the freaking hell out of today's god-filled extravaganza inauguration.
Because this is just one more little nugget of proof that their argument is complete and total bullshit.
The United States of America is NOT a Christian nation, no matter how much anyone may want it to be.
Yes, the majority of people IN the United States are, in fact, Christian.
But we are NOT a Christian nation by order of our Constitution- in fact we are to have NO state religion according to that self same document.
A subtle but hella important difference.
So, to ME- silly old woman that I am- the President should NOT swear on a bible, there should be NO invocation by ANY religious leader, and there should be NO mention of any god whatsoever by our president or vice president AT THE INAUGURATION.
Beyonce can still sing the National Anthem though, she did a fabulous job.
If they wanna go to church afterwards (or before) for a prayer and a blessing?
Go for it.
But DURING the ceremony? Absolutely not.
Separation of Church and State.
Our forefathers thought that was important enough to make that "freedom of religion" thing part of the FIRST Amendment
Even before guns and shit.
And the whole "beseeching your guidance to bring our country together" thing?
That's part of the damn problem- asking the Christian god for help in bringing together a country that's divided by great chasms of theological differences is the opposite of helpful or uniting to the huge numbers of actual Americans who don't happen to worship him.
Oh, I know- President Obama has a hard enough time as it is with all the Muslim Kenyan bullshit and I'm sure he just wants to remind folks that he IS after all, a Christian and an American.
But yanno what? The idiots who believe he's a Kenyan Muslim won't believe today's efforts to prove otherwise.
I'm waiting to hear the "SEE??? See how hard he tried to look NORMAL??? That's PROOF he's a damn Muslim!" crap that's poised to blow out the interwebs like 10 pounds of cheese in a five pound dog after a generous dose of laxative.
Because here's what makes me craziest of all-
President Obama's mother was an American citizen. He'd be an American citizen if he'd been born on another planet.
And even if he WERE a Muslim? There's not a damn thing about that that would render him ineligible for office. Nothing.
On accounta we DON'T HAVE A FUCKING NATIONAL RELIGION.
But where are our strict Constitutionalist patriots?
Oh, I know.
They must be busy disassembling that also-illegal standing armed forces.
That must be it.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Rolling Back Dignity With a Smiley Face
So Walmart has pledged to hire 100,000 veterans in the next five years as a huge 'thank you' for their service to our country, and the heavens open up and the angels sing their praises.
So, 20,000 per year.
There are 4,707 Walmart/Sam's/etc. locations in the US, so that means that this stellar sainted move will employ at each store...
4 people per year.
Now, of course 'all' it will take is for the veteran to show up with his papers of honorable discharge...and for them to qualify for employment just like anyone else.
Awesome.
Those lucky 4 people per location will be tossed into the pool of 1,540,000 Walmart employees. I saw that number and thought, "Wow- that seems like a lot" and it is- over 300 per store. Of course all those 4,707 locations are not stores- there's distribution centers and truck drivers, and the main offices in Arkansas filled with pencil-pushers and all that as well. And the stores are more often than not open 24/7- that's 3 shifts of workers every day. So ya. I guess that's about right.
Also, over a third of Walmart employees are part time, so not eligible for benefits which I guess wouldn't be a problem for veterans in the VA system, but the Walmart press release says NOTHING about whether or not these jobs will be full or part time and the average rate of pay for a part-timer is about $8 per hour and a full time employee makes about $10 per hour, making over a quarter of Walmart employees nationwide eligible for food stamps...because what they make at Walmart even working full time is below the national poverty rate...which is despicable.
Old people like me think, "Hey! $10 is pretty good! When *I* started working the minimum wage was $3.65 and I was able to afford an apartment and a car and food".
Looking back, I remember the apartment was in a crappy part of town- gunfire was a frequent background noise, my car was a 10 year old VW bug and I ate just salad...a lot. Even my cat had to learn to like salad. And that was just iceberg lettuce and generic dressing.
But I digress.
Lets say our returning veteran has 2 kids and a spouse, and the spouse also works at Walmart. They are both lucky enough to be working full time.
Making a combined $20 per hour, they bring home $800 per week or $41,600 per year. That sounds pretty good, right?
Take off a third for taxes and their portion of what Walmart provides for insurance. Now we're down to $27,734.
Poverty level for a family of 4 in the US is $23,050 so our hypothetical family is skating above poverty level by about $90 per week. They're taking home $1,920 per month.
Can you hear the angels singing?
Now figure in things like
rent- if they're hella lucky they can get by with $500
car- lets say just one and give 'em a really low $250 payment
gas for that car (just one, remember) $100
utilities- electric/phone/water...again we'll go low and say $200
insurance on the car and their possessions? $150
food- 4 people? Very frugally $400 per month
Now if anything happens- anything at all- new tires for the car, something at the doctor or dentist not covered by insurance, clothes for work since they can't JUST wear the blue vest of shame, and school clothes and shoes for the kids, any type of daycare at all, anything...they have the princely sum of $73 per week to cover it.
They've put nothing into savings. They've not tithed their 10% to the Lord. We've not considered any other type of credit obligation or loans like student loans or big medical bills.
I haven't even touched on the crappy working conditions, hellacious expectations and the fact that over 70% of Walmart employees quit in the first year.
I read a comment about this that said something like, "I've worked at Walmart. Working at Walmart is just like being unemployed except you have to show up on time and your boss gives you shit all day".
Welcome home, Veterans- this is the way Walmart wants to thank you for your service.
So, 20,000 per year.
There are 4,707 Walmart/Sam's/etc. locations in the US, so that means that this stellar sainted move will employ at each store...
4 people per year.
Now, of course 'all' it will take is for the veteran to show up with his papers of honorable discharge...and for them to qualify for employment just like anyone else.
Awesome.
Those lucky 4 people per location will be tossed into the pool of 1,540,000 Walmart employees. I saw that number and thought, "Wow- that seems like a lot" and it is- over 300 per store. Of course all those 4,707 locations are not stores- there's distribution centers and truck drivers, and the main offices in Arkansas filled with pencil-pushers and all that as well. And the stores are more often than not open 24/7- that's 3 shifts of workers every day. So ya. I guess that's about right.
Also, over a third of Walmart employees are part time, so not eligible for benefits which I guess wouldn't be a problem for veterans in the VA system, but the Walmart press release says NOTHING about whether or not these jobs will be full or part time and the average rate of pay for a part-timer is about $8 per hour and a full time employee makes about $10 per hour, making over a quarter of Walmart employees nationwide eligible for food stamps...because what they make at Walmart even working full time is below the national poverty rate...which is despicable.
Old people like me think, "Hey! $10 is pretty good! When *I* started working the minimum wage was $3.65 and I was able to afford an apartment and a car and food".
Looking back, I remember the apartment was in a crappy part of town- gunfire was a frequent background noise, my car was a 10 year old VW bug and I ate just salad...a lot. Even my cat had to learn to like salad. And that was just iceberg lettuce and generic dressing.
But I digress.
Lets say our returning veteran has 2 kids and a spouse, and the spouse also works at Walmart. They are both lucky enough to be working full time.
Making a combined $20 per hour, they bring home $800 per week or $41,600 per year. That sounds pretty good, right?
Take off a third for taxes and their portion of what Walmart provides for insurance. Now we're down to $27,734.
Poverty level for a family of 4 in the US is $23,050 so our hypothetical family is skating above poverty level by about $90 per week. They're taking home $1,920 per month.
Can you hear the angels singing?
Now figure in things like
rent- if they're hella lucky they can get by with $500
car- lets say just one and give 'em a really low $250 payment
gas for that car (just one, remember) $100
utilities- electric/phone/water...again we'll go low and say $200
insurance on the car and their possessions? $150
food- 4 people? Very frugally $400 per month
Now if anything happens- anything at all- new tires for the car, something at the doctor or dentist not covered by insurance, clothes for work since they can't JUST wear the blue vest of shame, and school clothes and shoes for the kids, any type of daycare at all, anything...they have the princely sum of $73 per week to cover it.
They've put nothing into savings. They've not tithed their 10% to the Lord. We've not considered any other type of credit obligation or loans like student loans or big medical bills.
I haven't even touched on the crappy working conditions, hellacious expectations and the fact that over 70% of Walmart employees quit in the first year.
I read a comment about this that said something like, "I've worked at Walmart. Working at Walmart is just like being unemployed except you have to show up on time and your boss gives you shit all day".
Welcome home, Veterans- this is the way Walmart wants to thank you for your service.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Just an Old Goat
We lost Alice yesterday.
She went down about a week ago- not on her side or in pain or even in distress, just with her legs under her like a big dog and decided she didn't want to get up again.
And if a 150 pound goat tells you she's fine right where she is, you just move the food and water and tuck a sleeping bag around her old bones.
Alice and Trixie were our 2nd attempt at goats down here in Texas. The first 2- China and Marigold- were run down and killed by dogs who dug under the fence one winter day while we were at work.
It took me 2 years to get Ward to agree to try again.
Goats are very personable.
So we got Alice and Trixie. Trixie died of bloat about 5 years ago.
Alice had a set of triplets every year...and raised them all. Usually one is smaller, weaker, and gets pushed out of the way by siblings and has to be bottle fed. Alice made sure everyone played nice.
One year Alice had her triplets in an ice storm- outside even though the barn was right...there. They all died. I thought we were going to lose Alice as well. She stopped eating, hung her head and just gave up.
About a week later, we had 2 other births- one nanny had triplets and decided she just wanted two. The other had twins and decided she just wanted one.
I took the two virtual orphans over to Alice and set them down beside her. Her head came up. She sniffed the babies. She licked the babies. And she started eating.
Alice was easy to milk and loved people- She posed with Alec for many photos and with sunglasses on for t-shirts advertising the little store I used to own-"Grinning Goat Gifts".
When Alice went down I tucked a sleeping bag around her- she was pretty moth-eaten and missing some of her hair, but I know how she feels- I'm old, too. I sat by her side and looked up "life span of Nubian Goats" on my phone.
8-10 years
8-12 years
10-12 years
Alice was 13 going on 14.
So we moved the water dish and food, kept her daughter Lucy in with her for company (Lucy is 11) and made sure she was always tucked in and brought her the kitchen scraps- apple peelings, bread heels, carrots...She ate them all.
She never cried out, never ground her teeth and never seemed distraught.
She just slowed down till she stopped.
I'll miss you, Alice- but can see you in your daughters Lucy and Becca and your son Lazarus- Alec's pet.
Till we meet again, old friend-
When we took our official portraits for work, I let my staff choose who I posed with- overwhelmingly they said "a duck and a goat". I'm so glad I chose Alice.
She went down about a week ago- not on her side or in pain or even in distress, just with her legs under her like a big dog and decided she didn't want to get up again.
And if a 150 pound goat tells you she's fine right where she is, you just move the food and water and tuck a sleeping bag around her old bones.
Alice and Trixie were our 2nd attempt at goats down here in Texas. The first 2- China and Marigold- were run down and killed by dogs who dug under the fence one winter day while we were at work.
It took me 2 years to get Ward to agree to try again.
Goats are very personable.
So we got Alice and Trixie. Trixie died of bloat about 5 years ago.
Alice had a set of triplets every year...and raised them all. Usually one is smaller, weaker, and gets pushed out of the way by siblings and has to be bottle fed. Alice made sure everyone played nice.
One year Alice had her triplets in an ice storm- outside even though the barn was right...there. They all died. I thought we were going to lose Alice as well. She stopped eating, hung her head and just gave up.
About a week later, we had 2 other births- one nanny had triplets and decided she just wanted two. The other had twins and decided she just wanted one.
I took the two virtual orphans over to Alice and set them down beside her. Her head came up. She sniffed the babies. She licked the babies. And she started eating.
Alice was easy to milk and loved people- She posed with Alec for many photos and with sunglasses on for t-shirts advertising the little store I used to own-"Grinning Goat Gifts".
When Alice went down I tucked a sleeping bag around her- she was pretty moth-eaten and missing some of her hair, but I know how she feels- I'm old, too. I sat by her side and looked up "life span of Nubian Goats" on my phone.
8-10 years
8-12 years
10-12 years
Alice was 13 going on 14.
So we moved the water dish and food, kept her daughter Lucy in with her for company (Lucy is 11) and made sure she was always tucked in and brought her the kitchen scraps- apple peelings, bread heels, carrots...She ate them all.
She never cried out, never ground her teeth and never seemed distraught.
She just slowed down till she stopped.
I'll miss you, Alice- but can see you in your daughters Lucy and Becca and your son Lazarus- Alec's pet.
Till we meet again, old friend-
When we took our official portraits for work, I let my staff choose who I posed with- overwhelmingly they said "a duck and a goat". I'm so glad I chose Alice.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)