"The hardest thing about any political campaign is how to win without proving that you are unworthy of winning." ~ Adlai E. Stevenson

I have a headache. Two nights ago, I slept in some kind of weird position and woke up with a pain in my shoulder and neck, and I've had a headache and neck pain ever since. But, that has absolutely nothing to do with my topic this morning.

Tom and I watched Rev. Jeremiah Wright's "performance" at the National Press Club Monday night on CNN. You can see an excerpt here if you choose to spend nearly 10 minutes of your time doing so.



It was one of the oddest performances by a so-called professional I have ever seen. I was particularly intrigued by the clowning behind Donna Leinwand while she asked questions of Rev. Wright. It was like the Reverend was completely out of control and having a meltdown of sorts.

The first thing that came to my mind as I watched this guy was, Is this some kind of set up?

When it comes to politics, I am a skeptic and I see a carefully orchestrated gameplay in everything. That said, I don't think Rev. Wright's performance at this moment in time in the Presidential race is an accident. I think Barack Obama and his campaign have used Rev. Wright to set the wheels in motion to create a reason to withdraw from the Presidential race. I know you are thinking I am nuts, but bear with me.

First, the reason Obama removed his name from the Michigan ballot was not because their early date violated party rules. If that were true, why did he not remove himself from the Florida ballot, too? The real reason was because no matter how much money his campaign spent there, he knew Clinton would win and she would win BIG (which is why he didn't want a re-vote either), and he didn't want to start his campaign with a big loss because it would be too difficult to restore any momentum. However, the Democratic party, even though they are not yet "counting" the votes or seating the delegates, sees this as a big and important loss for Obama. You don't have to believe me, that's okay.

Second, most of the states Obama won in the primaries were those that are historically won by Republicans in the general election. Clinton has won most of the democratic states.

Third, even before the Rev. Wright debacle, Obama was declining in the polls, even with all the money his campaign has raised. Although Obama spent nearly three times what Clinton did for the primary election, he lost soundly in Pennsylvania. He can pull in the cash, but it doesn't help all that much. Cash has to translate into votes and pundits were starting to talk about which candidate would be the most electable against McCain.

Fourth, Clinton's rise in the polls against McCain. RealClearPolitics.com cites polls showing Clinton with a thee point lead, while others show her with a six or nine point lead. Obama makes a much poorer showing, with losses to McCain by one to two points and wins by one to three points. Clinton is clearly the front-runner.

Democrats want to win this election... REAL BAD. Obama knows that. He also knows that if he can't pull off a win in the general election, he is toast for any other Presidential elections in the future. So will Obama chance losing to McCain? No. Will the Democratic party elders chance losing to McCain? Can I get a "Hell No!" So what then? Because of his decline and poor "electability" showing, the party has begun (in private, of course) to pressure Obama and he will withdraw from the race in the near future. But how does he do that and save face? He can't just quit. He can't just slink away, licking his wounds. He needs to create a "real reason" besides his own inability to consistently generate and hold supporters or "close the deal"; he needs a crisis; he needs an issue ~ an outside issue ~ that could possibly provide enough ammunition for the Republican party to use against him and would most assuredly cause Obama to lose the general election to McCain. But the "issue" can't be a permanent one, nor can it diminish his message or discredit his policy positions. It has to be an issue from which Obama could successfully distance himself over a period of time, enough to cleanse himself and reputation so he can run for President again in the future.

Enter Rev. Wright and the orchestrated set up. Wright goes before the National Press Club (where better??), acts like a complete wacko, embarrasses Obama, provides tons of ammunition for the Republicans and creates the "perfect issue" that would most assuredly compromise Obama's ability to to bring home the win for the Democratic party. Obama doesn't want to hurt the party's chances in the general election so he withdraws for the good of the party. Obama then distances himself from Wright for the next four to eight years, maybe serves as Vice President. Then goes on to run for President and wins. The Democrats lead the country for the next sixteen years. Everybody's happy and successful and prosperous.

Well, that is until the country gets sick of the Democrats running things, then again votes in a Republican majority to Congress. By that time, maybe the country will be ready for Jeb Bush for President. Then we start all over again.

Fun, huh?

"A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother." ~ Author Unknown

Isn't it great when you have a holiday created in honor of mothers and all it takes is for someone to forget it or ignore it to remind you of what a terrible mother you are?

Maybe it's time I just started forgetting birthdays and holidays. No cards, no cash, no checks, no gifts. What the hell.

Can you tell I'm just a tiny bit edgy today? I think I need a vacation. Like maybe to Italy or Greece for about, oh, maybe....10 years or so. That ought to do it.

In God we trust, all others we virus scan. ~ Author Unknown

Was it ego? Was it misplaced trust? First Ozzy, then Jason. Both had the immunity idol, neither played it and both were blindsided and voted off. I'm talkin' Survivor: Micronesia.

Can you believe it? I was shocked, particularly with Jason. I wasn't shocked that he was voted off. I was shocked he didn't play the idol, especially after watching what happened to Ozzy.

James and Eric are all but gone since they are outnumbered by the women, all of whom are exercising a completely female agenda. As much as I hate to say it, I think Parvati might just win this one. But, I really want Amanda to win. Tom thinks Ciree is going to win. Who do you think?

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ~ Berthold Auerbach

Today is my sister, Kim's, memorial service in Las Vegas. I decided not to go. I have said my good-byes.

In honor of her memory, I did not want to write something frivolous like the usual Some Things Friday. And, I am really not ready to write Part 3: The Gift, either.

Kim's, favorite group was Earth, Wind and Fire. She had all the characteristics of a person raised in that era. Coming from a family of four other siblings, she quickly asserted herself as an individual. She loved to have fun. Laughing was one of her favorite things to do. She had a strong work ethic and worked hard along side Tony to provide for their family. She was kind and compassionate. And, above all, a good and loving parent. Her children and family ~ blood, step- and in-laws ~ are left behind knowing they were deeply loved.

Today, I would just like to consider this time my four minute final gift to my sister, Kim.

“Basically my wife was immature. I'd be at home in the bath and she'd come in and sink my boats.” ~ Woody Allen

What is it with men? They always retain that less-than-charming quality of immaturity.

You know what I think? Boys mature until they reach about 13 years old, then some gene or chromosome fails to separate or divide and Bam!!!....they stop maturing. Okay, not completely. You see, there are other choromosomes or genes that take over, but they just don't complete the work so there is always that one area that remains completely immature. That would be the weiner or boner area. Rest assured, I'm not talking about the size of this area, just the attitude they take towards the area.

Now, I am mature enough to know that it is really called a penis. But that escapes most men, including my husband. For men, it is the the weiner or boner area and this area provides them with a never-ending reservoir of jokes.

Which actually brings me to my point. We were watching Good Morning America this morning. Tom was filling his water bottles and packing his lunch. I was drinking coffee and blankly watching the television.

Me: "Did you hear that? They've substantiated the old wives' tale."

Tom: "What old wives' tale?"

Me: "A study has shown that if a woman ingests a lot of calcium during her pregnancy, she is more likely to have a boy."

Tom: "Hey, gotta grow that boner!" Which was accompanied by the typically pre-pubescent male groin thrusting/weiner waving stance.

I rest my case.

I'm like King Midas in reverse, here. Everything I touch turns to shit. ~ spoken by Tony Soprano

That is exactly how I feel today. I am disgusted, cranky and on the verge of tears.

Remember how excited I was when I wrote about getting Maya Angelou tickets? I finally received them in the mail.



They were perfect. Orchestra. Fourth row. Center. "Were" is the operative word. The appearance has been canceled. Not rescheduled. Canceled! Crap!!

Sunday we picked up our new dog, Goldie. She is a 5-year-old Golden Retriever that has been used as a breeder female (basically a puppy machine) to breed Golden Doodles. I know, that breed was a new one to me, too, but apparently they are a cross between a Golden Retriever and a Poodle (standard or miniature, depending on the size of the dog you want). They are cute dogs. Sort of look like some sort of terrier, I think. Anyway, so this is our new Goldie.



I took her to our veterinarian yesterday for shots and an initial exam. She tested positive for heartworm. I've never had an animal with heartworm, but apparently the treatment is a real hard one for the animal. Our vet, Dr. Chris, wants to assess where Goldie's health is medically before proceeding. You know, blood tests, x-rays, the whole gamut of exams. And, the treatment for heartworm is, of course, expensive. Double crap!!

What's next? Well, now, none of our garage door clickers (does anyone really call them "remotes" any more??) are functioning and the garage door opener was made like a hundred years ago and there aren't any other brand of clickers that will work with it. So, naturally, we have to get a new garage door opener, too. Again, crap!!

And, finally, I planted basil and dill plants in my herb garden about two weeks ago. They were doing fine for about a week, until we had some "unseasonably cool" weather for this time of year. It freakin' froze! In mid-April!! In Arkansas!!! We covered them, but they got frost-bite anyway. So, last Saturday I had to buy new plants, tear out the old ones and replace them with the new ones. Crap!!!

Okay, I know none of this has anything to do with me really, but I just feel so crappy. You know, it has just been a rough month. I think I'm allowed the luxury of wallowing in my own Pity Party for a day or two.

So, I'm off to Lowes or Home Depot this morning for a garage door opener and four clickers that will probably sit in the garage in the box for a week or so until someone (I'm not saying who) decides to install it. Oh, and I better put batteries on my list, too. With my luck, I'd get it home, open the box and...helloooo, no batteries for the clickers! Then I would be really pissed!

Happy Belated Anniversary to Me!!!

I would like to change direction from my last two posts about my sister and her final moments. I have two more parts to write about that, but I need to take a deep breath and celebrate (??? ~ I suppose that depends on who you are and your perspective) and mention another, small but meaningful part of what I do with some of my time. Wouldn't you know that in the middle of all of this chaos that is my life, I failed to acknowledge my Blogging Anniversary.

This is only my 98th post, but I have been blogging now for over one year. My first blog on Blogger.com was on April 18, 2007. Of course, I started blogging almost a year before that on Myspace, but since I canceled my old Myspace profile and then re-upped a week or so later, those blogs are only memories to me because I copied them.

Anyway, so officially, this blog is a year old.

I initially started this blog to chronicle my progress, or lack thereof, as I walked/ran my way through the Couch-2-5K program I found on Coolrunning.com (see the sidebar with a very old date). Keeping up with that program has been the bane of my existence, but I never give up the desire or the hope that one day I will actually complete it and actually run a real 5K.

What has evolved, though, is more of a personal diary, sometimes funny, sometimes sad, sometimes stupid and, apparently, sometimes alienating. This blog has become a real creative outlet for me and, to be honest, I have found it to be deeply rewarding. What I didn't expect was that anyone besides me (and Tom) would want to read it, let alone want to read it regularly. But, what has amazed me is the number of people outside of my family who seem to actually be interested in what I have to write. I've had visitors from all over the United States and the world, some new and most returning. It boggles my mind.

What interests me is how people find my blog. I have a great traffic monitor that gives the usual visit counts but also provides all kinds of details about my readers: date and time of their visit, their city and state, their ISP, the referring URL (if any), etc. For example, a person in Alabama googled "use people love things" and Oila!! I was 6th on the list of links:



Another person from the UK googled "I hope life isn't a big joke" and my blog was the second link on the list. And, they both stayed and read more than one page of my blog. I could go on and on, but I won't bore you with all the little details.

I am so grateful to all of you who have accompanied me, and tolerated my rantings and ravings, throughout this year long journey. I very much appreciate your comments and emails. Thank you for allowing me to touch so many of you.

Rest assured, even if no one is reading, I will continue to write because, ultimately, I do this exercise for me.

Giving up doesn't always mean you are weak; sometimes it means that you are strong enough to let go. ~ Author Unknown

Part Two: The Decision

On Friday, it took several hours for all three of Kim's children to finally come together to discuss their mother's prognosis and decide whether or not to remove life support.

Robin went to the airport first to pick up Tobey. He was on the flight, but had somehow managed to avoid Robin and disappeared in the airport. We were all certain that he was terrified at having to face another tragedy in his young life and guessed that he had called a friend to pick him up. Avoiding Robin was avoiding what was waiting at the hospital.

Two hours later, when Philip went to pick up his wife, Mary, they also searched the airport for Tobey. They didn't find him.

When Robin, Philip and Mary all returned from the airport, all of us congregated in the hospital lobby just a few feet from the ICU entrance. We took turns spending time with Kim. Robin continued to reassure everyone that Tobey would show up. She was right. After almost six hours Tobey called her. He was at the park near his home.

When Robin brought Tobey back to the hospital, Philip and Kimmie took him into his mother's room. Those of us remaining in the waiting room (Robin; Sandy, Tony's sister; Mary, Philip's wife and me) gave the three kids about an hour alone with Kim, then we all went back to her room.

I felt so bad for Kimmie and Tobey. Kimmie's only 20 years old and Tobey's only 17 years old. They lost their Dad just two weeks before, and at the memorial service Tobey stood up and professed that his Dad was the only person he thought really understood him. Now, they were losing their Mom, too, and they had to decide whether or not to remove their Mom's life support. How much can these kids bear before they crumble right before my eyes, I thought. They cried... often and freely...but they never did crumble. Instead, they reached out for support ~ to each other and to the rest of us. There was hardly a moment when they weren't holding hands or embracing each other or one of us.

Philip suggested dinner in the cafeteria. Take a break. Take a breath. Nourish themselves. They need to take some time. They agreed and we all went to eat.

We returned to Kim's room about 8:30pm. She was still sleeping peacefully. Kimmie approached the subject first. She looked at me and said, "What do we have to do?" I knew what she meant. "Let me find out," I said.

I went out into the hall to find our nurse, but saw that he was in with another patient. There was another nurse in the hall and I approached her.

"Kim's children have decided to remove her life support. What do they have to do to do that?"

"Oh." Pause. Long pause, with deer-in-the-headlights look. I thought, You work in ICU, for crying out loud. I'm sure you have been asked this question before. "You need to speak with your nurse and with the doctor," she finally replied. "Your nurse is in with another patient right now, but I will tell him and send him in to your room."

"Thank you," I said and turned and walked back into Kim's room.

About 15 minutes passed and the nurse I'd spoken with walked by the door to Kim's room and stopped. "Oh, by the way, I haven't had a chance to tell your nurse yet."

Great!, I thought. Kimmie was getting a little distressed. She kept looking out the door waiting for Bill, Kim's nurse, to appear. They'd made the decision and the waiting for the next step was becoming very unsettling.

A few minutes later, Robin glanced out the doorway and saw Bill walk into the nurse's station area and took off after him. When she came back to Kim's room, Bill was just a few steps behind her. He was holding a form and a pen.

Bill explained that we didn't need to speak with the doctor after all and then began to read the form aloud. I don't remember much of his recitation except the words "Category 3". A couple of times, Kimmie asked, "what does that mean?" and Bill would explain in detail. He was so patient, so kind, so compassionate. When he finished his explanation, I asked, "She will continue to receive enough pain medication to remain pain-free throughout, right?"

"Yes," Bill said. "We will make sure she is comfortable and pain-free."

"Kimmie, do you have any questions?" I asked. She shook her head "no".

Bill handed the form to Kimmie and said, "Take your time. There's no hurry. Just let me know when you've decided." He left the room.

Kimmie looked at Philip, then Tobey, walked over to the counter and laid the form down on the flat surface. She wrote her mother's name on the top of the form, made an X in the box next to category 3 to remove all life support, signed her name and dated at the bottom. When she was finished, she handed the form to me. I put my arms around her and hugged her for a long time.

It was done. They had decided. They were ready to let their Mom go.

What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life, to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories. . .

Part One: The Prognosis

I am sitting here in front of this computer screen with my fingers on the keyboard and I can't think of anything to say about the death of my sister. I realized this morning that I have done just about everything to avoid writing about this, but when I took my journal notebook out of my purse and began to read what I had written over those few days before Kim's passing, I knew I would have to put all those thoughts, feelings and events together if for nothing else than to ensure that I will never forget those precious last moments.

Sometimes it was horrible; sometimes it was hard; sometimes it was sad; sometimes it was beautiful, touching, even humorous, but it was almost always overwhelming. But, I am glad I was there. Had I not been there I would have missed the most beautiful gift my family has ever given me.

I arrived in Las Vegas Thursday afternoon, April 10th. The day is sort of a blur. Everything runs together in my head and I'm not sure precisely what happened when. All I know is that too much happened and I was on complete overload: anticipation, hesitation, fear, sadness, regret, love.

Karen picked me up from the airport and said Robin's flight was due in later that night close to midnight, but she would go straight to the hospital when she arrived, so we drove straight to the hospital to see Kim.

Kim was conscious, but sleeping. There were tubes every where. A tube from the respirator went into her lungs; smaller tubes connected to veins in both arms and her neck; larger tubes drained her lungs, abdomen and bladder. There were countless bottles and clear plastic bags of medicines and nourishment hanging on three poles and connected to the tubes that ran to her body. She was receiving two pain medications with a third one ready, if needed; drugs to keep her blood pressure stable; drugs to keep her heart rate stable; drugs to reduce swelling; and on and on. The combination of the tube to her lungs and her sheer physical weakness left Kim unable to speak. She had been using a pad and pen to communicate, but looking at the pad she used to write on, it was clear she was becoming weaker and her handwriting was becoming almost illegible.

We spent a little over an hour with Kim, holding her hands and talking to her. At times, when she would open her eyes they'd flash recognition. She even tried to smile. Then, when she became uncomfortable, the nurse gave her more pain meds and she drifted off to a deep, peaceful sleep.

I was able to catch one of the doctors in the hallway. "She's very ill," he said. "She will not go home from the hospital."

"I know you can't give me an actual time frame, but she has a son in Virginia. Is it time for him to come home and say good-bye to his mother?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "I'm very sorry."

I took a very deep breath, but I couldn't keep the tears back. I thanked the doctor and turned and walked back to Kim's room. I took another deep breath, wiped the tears and blew my nose and walked back in the room. I reached over and took Kim's hand and held it for a long time while she slept. She was so heavily medicated, I don't even think she was aware that I had returned to her side.

Karen and I left the hospital and headed for Kim's house to drop off my suitcases. On the way, she called Robin and conveyed the doctor's message. Robin said Tobey would be on a plane the next morning, Friday. We arrived at the house so I could get settled for the duration, but what transpired was an ugly altercation between the two sides of Kim's family ~ blood and in-laws ~ with poor Kimmie in the middle and that nearly sent me back to the airport in complete exasperation at the display of the usual family drama, drama, drama. The words, death brings out the worst in some people and what the hell were you thinking??, kept racing through my mind. But Philip, Kimmie's older step-brother (Tony's son by a previous marriage) was there. And if it weren't for Philip, a loving and kind man, I probably would have walked away, left Las Vegas on the next flight bound for Little Rock and missed the emotional and spiritual connections I made with my sisters and Kim's in-laws.

That evening after dinner, the Kimmie, Philip, the in-laws and I drove back to the hospital and visited with Kim until about 10:30pm. Although, barely aware, Kimmie spent time with her mom, talking to her quietly, stroking her arm and holding her hand. My heart just ached for her. What a huge burden for such a young person, I thought. But, through her grief over her father's recent death and her mother's impending death, she is so strong, so mature, so willful. I am so proud of her. I am so proud of my sister and brother-in-law. They did a good job of raising her, as well as Philip and Tobey.

Karen called me Friday morning. She had visited with Kim during the dinner hour the night before. Kim had been fairly lucid and asked for the writing pad and pen.

She wrote one question. "Am I dying?"

"Yes," Karen replied.

The rest of us drove back to the hospital Friday morning, visited with Kim for a short time, greeted Robin (who had spent the night sleeping in a chair at Kim's bedside), and later we spoke with the doctor and nurse concerning Kim's prognosis. She was not breathing well enough on her own and medications were keeping her artificially stable. She would not survive.

We heard those words over and over in every euphemism possible: will not return home, will not survive, will pass, will expire, will end her journey. No matter how many times you hear them, it's devastating...even when you already know it and believe it. I cried. Robin cried. Kimmie cried. "What would happen if life support was removed," I asked. "She would eventually pass," said Paul, the ICU nurse. "This is not an easy decision for a family," he said, putting his arm around Kimmie's shoulder. Kimmie, Philip, Robin and I just looked at each other. Then we hugged and comforted each other. No one was alone unless by choice. No one would have to go through this without support and love unless by choice. We were there for each other, individuals, some of whom barely know each other, whose lives are thrown together by this profound tragedy, loving, feeding, nourishing, grieving, offering prayers and caring for one another.

Kimmie wanted to wait for Tobey, her brother, to arrive from Virginia that afternoon, and then Kim's children ~ Philip, Kimmie and Tobey ~ would make the final decision with the full support of the family.

I kept wondering how we, the older, supposedly wiser, more experienced family members, could make this easier for Kim's children. We couldn't. Because no matter what, no matter how much love they're given, no matter how much support they receive, no matter how many prayers are said, no matter how many facts they're presented, it will probably be the hardest thing they'll ever have to do in their lives.

In Loving Memory of My Sister

Kimberly Jan Mostad Porterfield

January 1, 1952 to April 12, 2008

Rest in Peace, Kimmer Dinger

Some Things Friday for April 11, 2008

I wrote this list last week before I left for Las Vegas after I learned that my sister, Kim, was in ICU.

Since many of you have been following the saga that is my life and that of my family, I think I only need to briefly recapitulate.

My brother-in-law died 2 weeks ago and I drove to Las Vegas, Nevada for the memorial service... 2 days driving there, 2 days driving back...to spend 2-1/2 days with my sister, his widow.

His widow, my sister is also battling cancer. When I say battling, that is what I mean. You know those movies where thousands of big, ugly, angry, killing, blood-thirsty monsters are trying to get the good guy. That is what is happening to my sister inside that tiny body. Every time I think of her, it brings tears to my eyes. I fear she is losing the battle.

So, now every time I think about complaining about something in my life, I think, "Oh, Shut Up!" But, since I have made the commitment to Hate at least 5 things every Friday, here goes...

Some Things I Love:

1. I loved being able to reconnect in person with my nephew, J, and meet his wife, Brooke. We talked about the war, politics and installing screen doors. Both had challenges growing up, but they've matured into warm, loving, insightful people. I admire them.

2. In two weeks, Goldie is going to become a part of our family.



3. My neighbor across the street was cleaning out her garden and dividing plants over the weekend. She gave me some daisies and daffodils to plant along my fence. When it finally stops raining for a day or two, I will plant them. I love flowers.

4. I just got tickets for "An Evening with Maya Angelou" in May. I will take plenty of kleenex, since her poetry and essays reduce me to a weeping fool.

5. Coming home from a trip.

Some Things I Hate:

1. Okay, after two weeks without writing and bitching about politics, here I go again. I am so glad, happy and thrilled [read: lots of dripping sarcasm] that Barack Obama is NOT playing the race card in his campaign! Oh, what was that?? Did I read what??? The article in the Tartan, the Carnegie Mellon University student newspaper, about Michelle Obama's campaign rally at the school gym. The one where "some students at the event questioned the practices of Mrs. Obama’s event coordinators, who handpicked the crowd sitting behind Mrs. Obama. The Tartan’s correspondents observed one event coordinator say to another, “Get me more white people, we need more white people.” To an Asian girl sitting in the back row, one coordinator said, “We’re moving you, sorry. It’s going to look so pretty, though.” [Emphasis mine]

“I didn’t know they would say, ‘We need a white person here,’ ” said attendee and senior psychology major Shayna Watson, who sat in the crowd behind Mrs. Obama. “I understood they would want a show of diversity, but to pick up people and to reseat them, I didn’t know it would be so outright.” But, no, they don't play the race card.

2. Over 400 children were removed from the Yearning for Zion Ranch in El Dorado, Texas. The mainstream media is reporting that this ranch is home to the members of a religion called Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. This is a religion?? No, it's pedophilia!

3. I was glad to get home after such a long trip to and from Las Vegas. I knew Tom had been sick, but he was on the road to health when I got home last Saturday evening. But, he hadn't fully recovered. He took Nyquil at bedtime and snored himself into slumber! Grrrrr. I wanted to lay close to him and smack him at the same time!

4. It continues to rain here in Arkansas. Lakes and rivers are flooded and the news stations flash flood warnings and watches across the television screen daily. Those of us who lease slips at a marina on Greers Ferry lake cannot get to the docks without another boat because the gangway to the dock is under water. It is supposed to rain more today, but then nothing until next Wednesday. We need to dry out some.

5. Yesterday the high was 77 degrees, although it rained most of the afternoon. Just in time for the weekend, when I was really, really, really looking forward to our first crawfish boil of the season ~ which, to be enjoyed as God intended, absolutely MUST be cooked and eaten outside in a warm climate ~ the temperatures this weekend will drop to a high somewhere in the very low 60's. By the time the weather cooperates, crawfish season is going to be over!


Some Things I Just Don't Get:

1. How many American women must be raped while serving in Iraq before someone takes notice and ACTION!

2. Why fanatical male sports fans have to go to their favorite sporting event sans shirts. I'm not sure what it says about them, but I don't think it could be good.

3. Why employers allow their employees to answer and make personal calls on their cell phones during work hours. Last week, I went into the restaurant/bar on the first floor of my hotel in Las Vegas. The server/bartender was attempting to take and serve orders while talking on her cell phone to her friend about some incident that happened during the day. She'd stand next to the table, talking all the while, then would say, "hold on a sec," and proceed to ask "did you need something?" Excuse me, but did I need something? Yes, in fact, I do. I need you to be less rude.

4. Did you see the video of the teenage girls beating the hell out of the cheerleader? I won't show it here because apparently that is exactly what they wanted...to be famous (or infamous) for something. So they thought the shortest route to this fantasy destination called fame was to videotape the beating and post it on YouTube. Can someone please explain to me what is going on with our kids? They are killing each other; they are beating each other; they are bullying each other. Honestly, deep in my soul I do not understand.

5. Why some folks will visit a blog several times a day. What exactly are they looking for?

Wordless Wednesday

Never look down on anybody unless you're helping him up. ~ Jesse Jackson

The link to this story is here in Gimundo, but I have quoted the entire article here.

"Man Buys Dinner for his Mugger
31/03/2008

When Julio Diaz stepped off the New York City subway platform after work one night, he was simply planning to walk over to his favorite local diner for a meal. But when a teenage boy approached him with a knife blade gleaming in his fist, Diaz, a 31-year-old social worker, knew the evening was about to take a more dramatic turn.

The young man demanded Diaz's wallet, and Diaz passed it over without objection. But just as his mugger turned to walk away, Diaz called after him: "Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something."

The mugger turned around, surprised.

"If you're going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm."

The teenager looked at Diaz in disbelief, and asked why he would do such a thing. Diaz replied, "!f you're willing to risk your freedom for a few dollars, then I guess you must really need the money." He told the young man that he'd just been heading out for dinner, and that he would be happy for some company.

"You know, I just felt maybe he really needs help," Diaz told NPR's StoryCorps.

The young mugger decided to take Diaz up on his offer, and they headed into Diaz's favorite local haunt together. As they were sitting at the table, the manager, the dishwashers, and the waiters all stopped over to say hello to Diaz, and the young man was amazed at his popularity. "You're even nice to the dishwasher," he exclaimed.

"Haven't you been taught that you should be nice to everybody?" Diaz asked him.

"Yea, but I didn't think people actually behaved that way," the teenager replied. Thanks to Diaz, he was beginning to see that kindness wasn't such a strange phenomenon, after all.

When the bill came, Diaz told the teen that he'd have to get the check. After all, he still had Diaz's wallet.

But the teenager slid the wallet back across the table without a moment's thought, and Diaz treated him to dinner. Diaz also gave the would-be mugger a $20 bill to take with him – in exchange for the young man's knife.

"I figure, you know, if you treat people right, you can only hope that they treat you right," Diaz said. "It's as simple as it gets in this complicated world."

If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice. ~ Meister Eckhart

I arrived home yesterday evening in time for dinner. I was exhausted and trembling from the constant motion of the car, but so glad to be home.

I talked to my sister, Kim, this afternoon. She had her last radiation treatment last Friday and a stint-like apparatus was surgically inserted into her vein because her veins are so small and collapse or roll when the doctor tries to take blood or inject her chemo. She will have chemo therapy at least once every week for an undetermined period of time.

I feel so grateful. I am healthy. Sure, I could lose weight, but I am the only one standing in my own way. I can change that with a little lifestyle adjustment. I don't need doctors or hospitals or drugs to live.

I feel so grateful. I am loved and the people who care about me express their love freely. Hearing the words, "I love you," feeds my heart and soul. And, I have been given the opportunity to share my love with words and hugs or shopping or cooking or cleaning or whatever is required of a loved one in need.

I feel so grateful. I have such a good life with so many options. I can still pursue another career... or even two. I live in a nice house, in a nice neighborhood, with nice neighbors. I may not live in my most favorite place in the world, but I can do things here that I would not be able to do otherwise. I can work in the yard, read a book, go shopping, eat sushi, attend great concerts, drive a short distance to the lake and go boating or sailing, hike trails around creeks and waterfalls, take walks or bike on a nice trail.

I think it's a matter of perspective. It reminds me of what is really important...and it's not things or status or money.

So... my prayer today... Thank you.

I hope life isn't a big joke, because I don't get it. ~ Jack Handey

I'm so tired, but it's nothing compared to the challenges my sister is facing.

I didn't see Kim until just before the funeral service. I didn't recognize her at first. She was a tiny, frail person ravaged by cancer, radiation treatments and chemotherapy, who was being literally held up in a standing position as she walked into the funeral home for the memorial for her husband. It took my breath away. I was afraid to hug her for fear even the slightest pressure would cause her pain. But, I did... very gently with both arms surrounding that tiny body. Shocking. But, I am also in awe. I do not know how she maintains her equilibrium. She is much stronger than I would be in the same circumstances.

She spends her days on the couch resting, with oxygen tubes helping her breathe more comfortably. Today she rested more than in the past two weeks and ate well. I was happy to see that. She will need to be well rested and well nourished to fight this battle.

Tomorrow morning I leave for home. There won't be any "Some Things Friday" for this week.

If you don't like the weather in Oklahoma, just wait one minute... it will change!

I am in Tucumcari, New Mexico, but my body is still on Arkansas time.

I am on my way to Las Vegas for my brother-in-laws funeral and to see three of my four sisters, whom I've not seen for over 15 years. A very sad statement about our family, I think. But, we are gathering together to show support for my sister, who is faced with the sorrowful task of burying her beloved husband and her own bout with cancer.

Yesterday I drove from central Arkansas to Tucumcari, a full 10-hours. I'm not one of those adventurous storm chasers who races towards tornadoes just for the thrill of it. I would just as soon avoid them at all cost, along with the other severe weather that accompanies them. As luck would have it, I drove through one of those storms from the Arkansas/Oklahoma state line through Oklahoma City. Torrential rains, hail, thunder, lightening and winds so strong even semi-trucks were pulled over to the side of the road. The outside temperature dropped from 79 degrees to 53 degrees in less than 15 minutes. But, luckily, I did not encounter a tornado.

As I headed for Oklahoma, I was able to tune into a public radio station from Tulsa and just after I crossed the state line, I heard the warning sound. You know the one. The loud, beeping noise and then someone says, "This is a test. This is a test of your emergency radio system." But, it kept beeping... then it stopped. A few seconds later there was a loud squeal. Uh oh, that is not a good sign, I thought. Then came the announcement from the National Weather Service in Tulsa. Severe thunderstorm warning.... the voice named the counties and cities involved. All I heard was Tulsa and Oklahoma City and I knew I was screwed.

As I drove out of Oklahoma City, the weather began to clear and when I finally crossed the Texas border, the sun was shining and it was back up to 79 degrees.

But, I was tired and I literally counted down the last 15 miles of the first leg of my trip. I pulled into Tucumcari at 6:00 p.m., found a place to stay for the night and this morning I am getting ready for the final 10-hours. I've checked the weather. It's clear from Tucumcari to Las Vegas. It should be smooth sailing today.