Looks like a blizzard

As I write this, we are experiencing a thunder storm the likes of which I haven't seen in several years.  The rain is coming down so hard that it looks like a blizzard rather than just rain.  Our lights are flickering, something that rarely happens in our neighborhood because our electric lines are under the ground.

Here's how it looks on the weather map.  We are directly under the red portion near the center of the map.

The street lights, themselves seem to be raining and nothing but a few lights are visable across the street.

I love this kind of weather and spent quite a bit of time enjoying it on our balcony.  I was sitting in a chair six feet from the railing and got throroughly soaked in a matter of a couple of minutes.  Wild and wonderful!  Now if we could just send some of this to the fires out west. . . ..

My forehead is falling . . . .

. . . and it’s taking my eye lids with it!

What’s with the loose, wrinkled skin that now resides where my eye lids used to be? I want too believe it’s temporary from rubbing my “allergy eyes”. But it now appears that I must face the fact that it is yet another cruel trick of aging.

Not only are my eye lids drooping, but they seem to be gobbling-up my eye lashes. How sick is that?! Not that I ever had lush lashes. Mine have always been stick-straight like my hair and pointed downward. Nevertheless, I’d torture myself daily gathering the few I could grasp with an eyelash curler trying to make them more perky. They ended up more bent than curled. Eye lashes with square corners -- not attractive.

Now there aren’t enough lashes left to hold mascara, much less be caught and curled. What’s a woman to do?

A couple of weeks ago, a beautiful woman of color stood behind me in a grocery checkout line. After several stealthy glances, I simply had to ask her if her gorgeous, lush lashes were all her own. Now she had every right to say they were and she would have fooled me, but I think I caught her off-guard.

Now I’ve got the urge to invest in some drugstore lashes myself. Hers looked absolutely real and not at all over the top like some Hollywood bimbo’s. However, reexamining my face this morning, I realize that glued-on lashes wouldn't stand a chance and would soon be pushed off by my now aggressive, creeping eyelids! . . .sigh.

Happy Weekend, Y’All!

So delusional

Jerry Sandusky must live in his own fantasy world to believe that his repugnant behavior, year after year, was OK. Photographs of him before and after he was caught reveal a man who seems to have no idea that he was torturing boys. He enjoyed himself and, I do think, believed his victims were enjoying his attentions.

In no way am I trying to excuse him. Being a survivor of molestation, I have little sympathy for him.

As with many of child victims, confusion, shame and disbelief kept my lips sealed until I got home and screamed into my pillow until I was hoarse. I had no idea how to act or what to say to the man who molested me.

To this day, I don’t know how or if my abuser was dealt with. He was an old, respected, up-standing member of the community. Mom was a young mother of three. I don’t think she told my Dad about it because his reaction would have been loud and clear.

When I experienced a sickening flash-back years ago, I was stunned to learn from so many women friends that they, too had been victimized as children and more as teens and adults. These are smart, capable women of a wide range of ages, some raising families of their own. This lead me to wonder how a parent can prepare a child to handle difficult situations.

As an 11-year old, I knew nothing about men and women, much less sexual behavior. I had been taught to respect and obey my elders; a perfect target for a pedophile.

If I had been told it was OK to refuse -- even coming from an adult --anything that turned my stomach or made me feel weird, would I have reacted differently? Maybe. Adults are physically bigger than children and perceived to have priority and authority. I believed that ninety-nine percent of the adults in my life at that time were worthy of respect. It was the evil one percent I knew nothing about.

Instincts in children tend to encompass simple things like not liking the smell of spinach or fearing water. Their instincts about people are pretty rudimentary, too. Early on, they fear strangers but, with age, they become more gregarious and socially aware.

Is there a way to develop and hone instincts in children so that they can better protect themselves without making them paranoid? I hope so.  Being a woman who enjoys babies and children, I would be heart-broken if children were taught to fear anyone but members of their immediate families. I love to chat-up babies and their parents in the grocery store.

The sad truth is that child abusers have been around for thousands of years and they aren’t going away. It’s about time this crime was recognized and dealt with as a crime, rather than being hidden away in shame. It’s time we Americans shed our Puritanical imprinting.

The courageous victims who have spoken up against their abusers deserve our respect and attention. They also need help to overcome their shame, hatred, and every other emotion that sexual abuse provokes. I read somewhere that some abusers were themselves abused -- a vicious cycle hard to be break.

Perhaps psychologists need to re-examine the minds of pedophiles. Mental illnesses are most often the result of a brain chemistry imbalance. Jerry Sandusky seems a prime example of someone whose mind is polluted with delusion.

Wouldn’t it be nice if there was a pill he and his kind could take that would correct that imbalance? Maybe medicine needs a Super Fund like the petroleum industry has.

Dream on. . . . …..

Weather Can Kill

Stories about the deaths of children and pets being forgotten or deliberately left in parked cars during extreme weather are starting to surface.

How many babies must suffer horrible deaths before people wake up to the fact that they are far too distracted? And what would make anyone believe that leaving his or her pet in a parked car while they work, shop or play is a good idea? I dare anyone thinking that way to sit in a parked car, even with the windows cracked but not enough to allow a pet to escape. They won’t last long.

The legal system is in a quandary over whether and how to punish those, most often parents, responsible for such tragedies. Accidents happen. BUT, how should grieving parents be adjudicated for bad judgment because they over-extended themselves to the point of neglect.

I still see people texting and driving. For some, talking on a cell phone seems to go hand-in-hand with driving. I have to wonder what they did before electronics drew their attention away from the task of maneuvering and controlling a ton of metal and glass.

Eating, smoking and applying make-up are still popular diversions. It’s facetiously called multi-tasking.

I wish that people who are addicted to their electronics would turn them off and set them aside even if it’s only for a day. So much of what goes on around us is not contained on a tiny, electronic screen. The old proverb “stop and smell the roses” is just as timely today as it ever was.

Busy parents need to ask themselves why they created a child in the first place. I refuse to believe it was simply to make a fashion statement “baby bump”.

Newborns and infants may seem like crying/pooping/barfing/wobbly lumps, but they are absorbing information at an extraordinary rate. They are sensitive to the moods of people around them. Too much stimulation is as bad as none at all.

I’m grateful that I was a child before electronics took over our lives. I happily live without TV, preferring reading. I don’t own a cell phone although with my total lack of navigational skills, perhaps I should.

Electronics ideally make our lives simpler, chores easier and quicker, provide information and entertainment and keep us in touch with each other.

Electronics cannot smile and laugh at a joke, give a hug, cry with us, tie a shoe, change a diaper, sooth a scared child, kiss a boo-boo and make it all better. Have we forgotten how important eye and skin contact are to humans?

Maybe some smart techie will invent a phone “app” to remind drivers of the sleeping child belted into the safety seat behind them or the beloved, hard-of- hearing old dog asleep on the back seat. It might prevent future tragedies. But then again, there’s nothing better than simply being aware of what is around us.

P.S. The surest way to be robbed, mugged or run-over is to drive or walk around listening to whatever on ear buds and/or your attention glued to some gadget. Those toys are expensive and not everyone has the bread to buy their own! At least look up every now and again.

Dad

Little did he know this was only the first of his five children.

I wonder if he was surprised that his namesake looked so much more like his mother than he did his father.  He had his father's build and big feet, but his mother's dark, curly hair and eventually, her beautiful teeth.

Looking at this picture reminds me of the wonder and probably a little fear that accompanied the births of all of his children.

Dad was a fierce protector and teacher.  We often resented his strict "teaching" methods, but his heart was in the right place.

Equally important for a man who fathered five children is the fact that, for the rest of his life, he remained a devoted husband and lover to the most important person in his life; our Mom.

Anticipation

We haven't planted our window boxes yet, but this weekend appears to be the right time to do that.  Today is exactly a week from the Summer Solstice so we need to get it in gear.

It's always hard figuring out what, how many and where to plant our mini-garden. We have window boxes and big pots that sit on the balcony deck.  Spouse prefers the latter, but I like the idea of sharing lovely flowers with the world as it passes by below.  Maybe we should plant all our containers.  Of course that would seriously cramp anyone who might want to sit on the balcony.

No More for This Champ

It broke my heart to learn that I'll Have Another will not be running in the Belmont Stakes or ever again.  At the same time, I'm greatly relieved that his owner and trainer withdrew him from the race because of a tendon injury.

It would have been a tremendous honor if he had won the Triple Crown, not to mention making plenty more bucks for his owners.  This is a fine example of integrity winning over wealth.

This horse has the heart of a champion and I hope he will sire many more during his retirement from racing.  He will live on through his offspring. 

Weeping

Rolling Thunder has cruised through the city since late last week.  I cheered them on and mentally thanked them for their resounding acknowledgement of the sacrifices made by our men and women in uniform.

Moments ago, President Obama finished speaking at the Vietnam Memorial, aka, The Wall.  As I've never heard expressed so eloquently before, he spoke about all the things that should have been said and done when our troops came home from Southeast Asia.

This year is the 50th anniverary of the beginning of American military involvement in Vietnam.  It was stunning to realize that it's been that long.  For many of my generation, it seems like just yesterday our classmates and friends were learning they were being drafted to serve in a war that had not yet been declared.  Between 1962 and 1975, the pain of loss and agony over the missing was a daily burden broadcast on television.

Our returning Vietnam vets were treated like they shamed the country.  Many were ignored or -- worse -- castigated for participating, many of them not voluntarily.  Today the President aknowledged this fact and reminded everyone that we still owed them our gratitude and support for their efforts.

The tears started flowing at that point remembering friends whose lives were stolen from them before they had a chance to even live them.  So many good men and women gave their all for a cause that was lost almost before it started.  I don't think a single group has suffered more than our Vietnam Vets.  Physically, mentally and financially they have struggled against a tide of unprecedented negativity and neglect.

As the President revealed, it's been these guys who are working so hard to assure that vets coming after then will not suffer the same way they did.

I don't mean to ignore veterans of other wars.  Their sacrifices were equally heinous, but they were welcomed home and given advantages unavailable to Vietnam vets.  The Vietnam vets are MY vets and it moved me to hear them honored as they always should have been.

Following the President's speech, eight more names added to the wall were read out.  When a piper played "Amazing Grace" my tears flowed in earnest.  I totally lost it when a bugler soulfully played Taps.

Crying on Memorial Day is fitting and, I think, necessary.  Hating war won't make it go away, so shedding tears is a healthier way to relieve the sadness of loss.  I no longer visit The Wall because it is too painful.  It is a comfort to know that thousands visit it every week, assuring that my friends and all the others whose names are on the wall will never be forgotten.

Not a Sincere Bone in His Body

Once again Marion Barry has embarrassed D.C. with his careless, racist attitude.  While expressing apologies for recently insulting Korean Americans, he managed to do the same to just about every other immigrant group.

I used to be able to give him a little slack because I believe his brain is addled from (past?) drug use.  No more.  He has yet to give up his Black Panther/ black-supremist leanings which will keep him on the outside looking in.

The man isn't stupid.  Somehow, he maintains a loyal following of voters.  I fear that he and they all refuse to recognize that the world is moving on and that the 1960s are long over.

African-Americans have suffered horrifically and too many still do.  Nevertheless, many others do not consider themselves victims of racism and have overcome obstacles to earn both personal and financial success.

Sadly, people like Marion Barry play the victim card because it's an easy excuse for their own personal faults and failings.  He needs to move on.

Another Slap in D.C.'s Face

Suburban Phoenix, Arizona is light years apart from the District of Columbia socially, economically, politically and just about any other “lly” way one can think of. Republican Trent Frank represents such an Arizona district in the U.S. House. Yesterday he also chaired a committee hearing on a very sensitive issue for District residents: funding abortions for low-income D.C. women.

A majority of District residents have voted in favor of using some of our tax dollars to help these women. Certain members of Congress are utterly and completely determined to prevent that from happening.

Ignoring legitimate local legislative decisions is onerous enough. To treat our one and only, duly-elected, NON-VOTING representative to Congress, Del. Eleanor Holmes Norton with the same contempt is inexcusable. She had a front row seat (where she belonged) for the hearing and was not even allowed to speak on this important issue, much less cast a committee vote on it.

More than half a million U.S. citizens who happen to live in Washington, D.C. have consistently been treated like chattel and poker chips by Congress. Speaker Boehner coerced the President into agreeing to eliminate D.C. funding for abortions in hopes that Congress would cede control of the District’s budget back to the District. In order for the city to control its own budget, we must impose a permanent ban on abortions for our residents, something we, the people, have voted down.  In other words, to hell with what the tax-payers want.

Confession time: I am firmly on the fence about abortion. I do, however, believe that a woman has the right to make her own health decisions. I don’t wish to debate the sentient or non-sentient nature of a fetus. That and the debate about being compelled to raise a child with severe disabilities is none of my business. These must to be addressed by and lived with by the parent/s, not the public at large.

I’m grateful that I have never been faced with having to make such a monumental decision. I honestly cannot tell you how it might have come down. What I can tell you, is that certain members of Congress and their supporters need to get off their high horses and recognize the basic political and human rights that they are denying to a population they do not represent.

They also need to apologize to The Honorable Eleanor Holmes Norton for the disrespectful and undignified way she was treated yesterday and many more times that go unreported.

Just what we don't need. . . .

. . . a reconstituted Three Stooges.

Yes, it would appear that someone thought it would be brilliant to bring back those three abusers. I know, guys get a big kick out of watching the Stooges beating up on each other, but the other, more enlightened half of the population can’t stand them.

Bullying is the basis of their comedy. I see nothing humorous in bullying. To make matters worse, Moe is unmercifully cruel to Curly who seems to be a bit lacking of intelligence and is rather childlike. Larry, on the other hand seems timid and completely overwhelmed by Moe, unable to fend-off his abuse. These traits often serve as excuses for bullies to do their worst. [if I’ve confused these guys, forgive me; I never spent more than a few minutes watching the original trio.]

Do we really need more lessons in violence? Aren’t some of the video games and movies enough to misguide our young into thinking that bashing, beating, shooting, knifing, bombing and mauling are the norm? Why, the evening news often provides enough gory detail about real events to make me cringe.

Equally troubling for me is that the Three Stooges don’t need sophisticated, cool weapons to inflict pain and suffering. Using only words, hands, heads and feet might make kids think that they, too, can overpower and intimidate their peers with ease.

Bullying is a national shame and crime. Too often it goes unreported because victims fear retaliation or have been convinced that snitching isn’t cool. Our kids need more examples of appropriate behavior, not how to hurt one another. I hope the Stooges bomb and never make it to DVD.

Fighter Jets over Foggy Bottom, again

By the time we hear their great roaring, they're long gone.

Minutes ago what sounded like an entire squadron of military jets flew over us, rattling pictures and nerves alike.  We immediately went out on our balcony and encountered our wide-eyed neighbor on his.  He travels alot for work and, I guess has not been here during previous flyovers.

As we told him, most likely someone in a private plane mistakenly entered restricted airspace.  A wide swath of the skies miles and miles out from the District have been restricted since 9/11.

Commercial planes with transponders have no problems because they are automatically identifiable by air traffic control.  Every now and again, someone piloting a private plane slips into the controlled area and is pretty much instantly surrounded by scary, armed fighter jets which then escort the plane to the closest airport where the plane is inspected and the pilot questioned.

As unnerving as these powerful planes are, they are also reassuring as they protect Washington from another attact.

Go Caps!!

The red and blue splotch on the roof is an inflatable Caps player.

It's OK if your not a Washington Capitals fan, but for those of you who are, a pilgrimage to this holy site might be worth your while.

I captured this the moment the light from the Whitehurst onto Canal Road changed and some guy in a big ole SUV honked impatiently at me.  I wish I could have included "The Exorcist" stairs, but I was lucky to get this much.

Our hockey team is driving me to distraction.  Spouse gets so completely into their games that I could set his hair on fire and he wouldn't notice!

Teachable Moment

I'm not sure who took the above picture, but is struck me as a reminder of how blind persons are "mishandled".

I'm not talking politics here -- that situation is bad enough.  Rather, I'd like to suggest that if a sighted person wants to offer assistance to a blind person to first ask if help is wanted.  If it is not, back-off.  If assistance is accepted, offer an arm for the blind person to hold onto -- don't grab a hand or shoulder in an attempt to steer him.

Note to the wise:  blindness is a physical challenge that many handle with ease and grace.  Insisting on helping someone bruises their pride and may actually piss them off.