Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Body Parts

When I mention that I have a substantial postcard collection, friends often give me some of theirs.  This* one came from a friend who visited Gerusalemme (assuming that is present-day Jerusalem).

It looked kinda kinky on first viewing.  When I read what it was on the back of the card, I dropped it in shock.  The shriveled object in the center of the suggestively-shaped thing is believed to be a finger from the Apostle Paul.*

Personally, I think it is grotesque and, at the very least, unseemly, to enshrine and display severed body parts.  But I'm a Presbyterian, so what do I know about such 'sacred objects.'  Also, I have to wonder how this relic was obtained.  I mean, did someone just sneak up to Paul's dead carcass and whack off a finger?  Maybe his other fingers and toes are spread out around the world . . . ..!!

*Note:  Eerily I was unable to upload the promised photo.  I tried several times.  Do you suppose I have displeased the heavens?

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Please say a little prayer . . .




This adorable 8-year-old is under-going chemo for lymphoma. He lives almost 700 miles from me, but I love him just the same. His human mother (my sister) has steadfastly shared pictures and stories about Tucker so that I could enjoy him from a distance.
 
All of his human family members are devastated and praying that the chemo can stop his cancer. He has been cherished since he was born. His closest furry friends are a tiny Westie named Bailey and his next door neighbor, also a Goldendoodle.
 
When you have a spare moment, please ask God to send Tucker and his family strength to get through this. Many thanks!


Tuesday, October 29, 2013

I Love Autumn


Around D.C., Autumn often arrives slowly, producing lovely mixes of colored leaves that last for a while because the really cold weather doesn't usually arrive until December or January.  I also enjoy the migrating Lady Bugs and Monarch butterflies.

Hope you are enjoying whatever season you are entering and appreciate the change.  I know I could not live in a place where the weather was always the same, but to each her own  .   .     .

Saturday, October 26, 2013

My sermon for a sunny Saturday.

Oh, to be so carefree and have no worries again!  I still feel like this on occasion and wish I could be four again (without having to repeat my teens.)  I wouldn't be a teen these days for love nor money!

Children are forced to grow up too quickly and lose nearly all of what should be carefree childhood.  They cannot play outdoors without worrying about being snatched.  Parents instill their little ones with fear of strangers to the point where friendly, harmless types like me feel afraid to even smile at a little child, much less strike up a conversation.

Can we ever go back to a time when children left the house early in the morning and played until they were hungry?  We didn't need fancy toys and manufactured our own adventures using our imaginations and whatever raw materials were at hand.

I fear that modern electronics and lazy/too busy parents are responsible for children missing out on their childhoods.  Cellphones, computers, television and electronic games prevent kids from developing their minds in a natural way.  Just once I'd love to watch a child pick up a stick and some leaves to create a little boat to "sail" on a puddle.  Running just because she can should be allowed without the rigid control of "helicopter parents."

I wish . . .
 

Thursday, October 17, 2013

An Indian Prayer

The following came in a mailing from an American Indian nation asking for donations to their school. The simple, pure prose appealed to me because it uses words I prefer to formal prayers with their thees and thous.

Genuine humility is an important element when one is praying and this prayer embodies that -- for me, anyway. The author is not credited.


O’ GREAT SPIRIT,
Whose voice I hear in the winds,
And whose breath gives life to all the world, hear me!
I am small and weak.
I need your strength and wisdom.

Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes ever
behold the red and purple sunset.

Make my hands respect the things you have
made and my ears sharp to hear your voice.

Make we wise so that I may understand the
things you have taught my people.

Let me learn the lessons you have hidden
in every leaf and rock.

I seek strength, not to be greater than my
brother, but to fight my greatest enemy -- myself.

Make me always ready to come to you with
clean hands and straight eyes.

So when life fades, as the fading sunset,
my spirit may come to you without shame.

Monday, October 14, 2013

I am not Malala . . .


. . . and I thank my lucky stars that I am not.

Living in a country that requires education for all children and pays for it with taxes is a huge gift. Too many of us did not and still do not appreciate the ease and safety of getting an education in the U.S.

Another reason I am not Malala is that I possess none of her courage, strength or perseverance. This sixteen years old young woman has already had nearly a life time of experience and still remains a thoughtful and intelligent girl willing to put others first.

Malala Yousafzai spoke to school girls from the D.C. region during a recent event sponsored by the World Bank. During the Q&A session she was asked if she had ever wished she was a boy and what she would advise fathers of girls.

“I would tell them don’t give anything extra to your daughters, but don‘t clip their wings. Let them fly, and give them the same rights as your sons. Give them a chance to be a human being.”

Those who tried to eliminate her influence by trying to kill her instead created a martyr. This poised, gentle young lady is now an inspiration to girls and women worldwide. I hope and pray she lives a long and fulfilling life.

Saturday, October 5, 2013

History Repeated



The photo illustrates what happens when one of the huge rolls of newsprint ends and another begins. It also seemed analogous to the story that was cut in half by it in today’s Washington Post.

It is about Syrian Christians being tormented because of their religion. Christians in other majority-Muslim countries also are being targeted and harassed or murdered because of their faith.

Just as Christian crusaders centuries ago believed that Jews and Muslims were infidels and must be driven out of the Holy Land, Muslims are using the same reasoning to go after non-Muslims.

The three, major world religions, Christianity, Judaism and Islam all worship one deity. The name for this deity is different within each group but it is one and the same. Wouldn’t it be grand if they could all embrace that fact and let all the other dogma not get in the way of living in harmony?

I have no bone to pick [forgive me] with Muslims and Jews not eating pork. And so what if their Sabbaths are on different days? Women who cover their heads will get no argument from me. [I do make an exception for the burqa because it is simply inhumane.] Religious restrictions are important to each group but are not excuses for hatred and discrimination.

Religious intolerance has stewed for centuries, some worse than others. It’s on a tear right now. If I had my way, Jerusalem, an ancient city at the heart of the three major religions, would be a neutral, internationally policed city. I can dream, can’t I?
 

Friday, October 4, 2013

Pick-a-little-talk-a-little, pick-a-little-talk-a-little . . .

. . . CHEAP, CHEAP, CHEAP, pick-a-little-talk-a-little-more. . .

With apologies to Mr. Meredith Wilson, the above seemed the right caption for this photo.  Can you guess the group (in Washington, D.C.) to which I am referring?

 

Thursday, October 3, 2013

The biggest feet I've ever seen!

This is a U.S. Park Police horse on the National Mall.  I should think anyone wanting to make trouble would think twice before messing with THIS big boy!

Friday, September 27, 2013

Did you know . . .


. . . That in 1963 it took a minimum wage earner 6.7 years to buy a moderately priced house? In 2013, it takes the earnings from 16 years of work to buy that same house.

. . . A movie ticket in 1963 averaged 86 cents as opposed to $7.96 (or more) in 2013.

. . . A tank of gas required 3.4 hours of minimum wage earnings compared to 8.4 hours in 2013.

. . . In 1963 a one pound loaf of bread cost 20 cents and a pound of coffee was 69 cents. In 2013 they cost, respectively roughly $1.41 and $6.01.

A minimum wage earner at $7.25 per hour must work 21 minutes to buy a half gallon of milk; an average wage earner at $23.89 per hour must work 6.3 minutes to buy that same half gallon. At a minimum average of $4,615.38 per hour, a typical CEO needs to work 1.9 seconds to buy that milk.

Is it any wonder that the minimum wage needs to be increased? CEOs’ wages should be cut to a reasonable level so that other workers can earn a living wage.

Statistics from the Bureau of Labor

Friday, September 20, 2013

A Fourteenth Century Soap Opera


Unwittingly, I downloaded a novel similar to “Katherine” which takes place during the same time period and with many of the same characters. The difference is that it was written from the a very different perspective; that of The King‘s Concubine, written by Anne O‘Brien.

King Edward III of England was married to Phillipa who bore him numerous children, only a few of whom survived to adulthood. His first son, who would have been Edward IV had he lived longer, produced a son Richard who would become king at the age of 13 when Edward III died. [I sometimes wish that royals had chosen from a wider range of names, but it is what it is. Ya gotta pay attention to the roman numerals on these guys.]

Anyway, Phillipa and Edward had an arranged marriage but were lucky enough to actually fall in love with each other and it lasted the rest of their lives -- with one, considerable distraction.

During a hunting expedition, Phillipa was thrown from her horse, dislocating her shoulder. It was not realigned properly so it caused her agonizing pain for the rest of her days. She also suffered from something called dropsy which also caused pain and severe swelling. She remained mostly stoic about it, but there would be no more romping between the sheets with Edward.

Knowing what a manly man Edward was, Phillipa decided that if she couldn’t satisfy his conjugal needs someone else would have to. After careful consideration, she hand-picked Ann Perrers for the purpose.

Ann P. had been abandoned as a newborn at a convent and was raised and pretty much enslaved by nuns until Phillipa came to visit one day. Phillipa’s retreat at the convent was intended to help her better cope with her pain through prayer and meditation.

Now Ann was not a pretty girl. Indeed, she was constantly reminded of how ugly she was. Mirrors were not to be had in convents, so she was unable until much later to confirm that, yes indeed, she was ugly. However, she had developed a crafty mind and learned to read, write and do figures -- something rare for females in those days.

Before Phillipa entered the picture, the nuns, in all their wisdom [and greed] made a financial arrangement with a wealthy merchant who would wed Ann and take her off their hands. She was 16 at the time. The marriage was never consummated and Ann’s husband died not long after they wed, so back to the convent she went.

When Phillipa saw this obviously unhappy teenager, living in misery with nuns who didn’t like her, she saw a good candidate with whom manly man Edward could relieve his manly needs.

Edward didn’t take to the idea immediately. But Phillipa eventually convinced him that it was what she wanted, so he gave in. Needless to say, it was a bit of a shock when Edward discovered that Ann was still a virgin. She had been married afterall! No prob. He conquered that impediment and they went on to years of unwedded bliss.

Since Edward was still married, Ann became an adulteress and whore and was not at all popular with members of the King‘s court.

Ann was strong-willed and her quick mind fascinated Edward. In short order, he became besotted with her. This hurt Phillipa, but she reminded herself that it had, after all, been her idea. Silks, furs, jewels and more soon eased Ann’s guilt and she really got into being the King’s whore.

Her influence over Edward soon riled his family and court members who wanted a piece of the action. As Edward aged, he became more and more dependent on Ann.

War was a constant feature during that time in history. Someone was always trying to conquer and abscond with someone else’s turf. Even then, Ireland was a hotbed of discontent. France and England constantly fought over and took territory from each other and then fought to get it back again. In attempts to gain or regain territory, marriages between royals were arranged, often leading to disastrous results.

Ann had been banished by her detractors who considered her a dangerous [and expensive] influence over the King. Meanwhile, Edward became more and more demented. When Phillipa died, Edward gave up on living. That’s when things got really sticky. Politically astute/devious members of his family and court realized that Ann was probably the only person who could get through to Edward, so they dragged her back to London.

In Edward’s fragile state of mind, he was angry with Ann for having abandoned him. For whatever reason [probably political] she didn’t tell him that his family and friends had sent her away. They soon kissed and made up, but Edward could no longer “tumble” Ann, so she started looking around for someone else to play with.

Along comes William Windsor, an influential member of the royal court and literally a Knight in shining armor, handsome beyond reason. He, too was politically ambitious and recognized the same attributes in Ann. He could have had his pick of any one of hundreds of court beauties but chose Ann because she held the king‘s reigns. [Pun intended]

Knowing this and the fact that she was not at all pretty, Ann initially didn’t trust the handsome dude. William eventually convinced Ann that, if they put their heads together, they could benefit from their close proximity to the King. Ann had accumulated a good bit of real estate over the years but, being a single woman, her ownership was tenuous. Once a woman married all of her possessions, including her body, automatically became her husband‘s. Ann knew that her enemies wanted to strip her of all her “ill-gotten-gains”, so she agreed to marry William only after he promised that her properties would remain under her control.

When Edward eventually kicked the bucket, a tangled web of intrigue, slander, kidnapping, and murder followed and weird Richard III became king, causing all sorts of mayhem. [He was the last English King to die in combat and his remains were discovered under a parking lot last year.]

Meanwhile, Ann and William escaped to live out their lives in comfortable wealth -- at least that’s what the novel implies.

I must admit that I love reading this medieval stories because many of my mother’s ancestors were active in those days -- the Campbells, Lancastrian Roses and more. Life was hard during those times, but so interesting!
 

Monday, September 16, 2013

They don't fool me . . .

. . . manufacturers who are producing smaller sizes of their products and selling them in what appear to be the same size packages as several years ago. Prices inevitably rise but what’s going on now is deceptive at best.

Remember when you could buy a one pound package of coffee? Now it’s down to twelve ounces, having been 13 ounces for a short period. The price for the brand we buy remains about the same, but we’re getting less for our money.

My favorite graham crackers were the first shrinking product I noticed. There was a time when I couldn’t bite off the end of one; now they’re narrow enough that I can. The packaging looks the same and the price has about doubled.

Even toilet paper is not what it used to be. Rolls now seem to be a half inch narrower than they once were. I can tell because it used to be difficult to get it onto the holder and now there’s plenty of space for fingers to ease the roller onto the holder.

Spouse and I enjoy snacking on an oat cereal popular with toddlers. Looking at the box on the grocery shelf, it looks the same as always. However, when you pick it up, the box is much thinner than it used to be. The height and width are not changed which makes you think you’re getting what you expect.

I realize that drought, flooding, the cost of fuel, and other natural and manmade disasters have necessitated price rises. The packaging tricks, however, seem like a deliberate attempt to profit at consumers’ expense. Manufacturers are trying to pull the wool over our eyes that we are paying more for less.

Next time you‘re in the grocery store, see if you can spot these tricks. I won’t even mention the price of meat -- it’s bad enough to make me seriously consider going vegetarian!

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Mini-Rolling Thunder - 9/11/13



A small procession of bikes streamed by this morning.  I was surprised to hear them because I don't remember them from previous anniversaries of this date.  The pictures aren't clear because it's a hazy, hot day today.  Twelve years ago it was a sparkling-autumnal-gem-of-a-day.

On this day in 2001, I was home recovering from abdominal surgery the previous month.  Spouse worked noon til eight in those days, so was still home when the carnage began in New York.  Of course we had the TV on like the rest of the East Coast, trying to find out what was going on.  I phoned my sister in Illinois and was talking with her when the plane hit the Pentagon.  We heard and felt that.  I started shaking and blathering at that point.  Then hundreds of staff from the State Department (large prisonesque building in bottom photo) started walking and running away from the building.  When we heard a fourth plane was heading toward Washington, I nearly lost it.

Standing on our balcony, watching people fleeing for their lives, I wondered where we could go to be safe.  We live within blocks of important federal buildings and the White House, all of them potential targets.

A young woman who lived across the hall from us asked if she could hang out with us.  She was terrified, too.  Thankfully, she gave me someone else to focus on.  I gathered what wits I could and tried to comfort her.

The rest of the day is pretty much a blur of anxiety and stress.  It took hours in shock to truly embrace the fact that thousands of people died horrible deaths.  It would be days, months and years before victims' families and friends received confirmation of their losses due to the incredible scale of destruction.

For months, the skies were silent except for the fighter jets circling high above Washington day and night.  It was a comfort knowing they were watching out for us.  Still, I felt like I was waiting for "the other shoe to drop."  A little more than a year later, we were again terrorized by the so-called D.C. Snipers.

To this day, I say the 9/11 terrorists failed.  Yes, they caused immeasurable pain and damage, some of it long-term.  What they didn't anticipate was that their crimes would unite Americans and strengthen our resolve to support and defend our way of life.

New security measures are not convenient but have protected us from further attacks.

Now, if we can just regain our rights to privacy . . . .

Monday, September 9, 2013

Sweet Nostalgia

I felt like remembering some happier times for my parents.  Dad has been gone for 6 years now and Mom is 88 and confused most of the time.
 
This poofy pink dress was one Mom wore when she sang concerts in the public schools.  She had a lovely soprano voice that she freely gifted to our community through our church and our local opera company.  She had lots of fans and fan letters to prove it.  One local gentleman always gifted her with a stem of orchid blossoms following an opera performance.
 
Dad loved her gift of song but was sometimes a little jealous of all the men who fawned over her following performances.  There was never any reason for him to worry, though.  The two of them were totally devoted to each other and their family.
 
The baby grand piano was one Mom grew up with and moved with our family us several times.  My sibs and I practiced on it during years of lessons.  It was to have become mine when Mom and Dad were ready to downsize.  Sadly, living in an apartment, we couldn't accommodate it so it went to my Mom's niece.  Her two, highly musically gifted daughters have made good use of it and I think it will remain in the family for another seventy years.
 
The painting in the background was one Dad did in high school and now hangs with several more in my home.  He could also play the piano and on one occasion, played a four-hands piece with me for family members.  THAT was very unusual and special.