Gratitude
Early breaks the dawn today as I salute the morn,
Dressed and ready on my way--I'm not a bit forlorn.
For each new day affords a chance to see the world anew.
The petty cares of yesterday are cast in lighter view.
Although I'm not a bit deceived that life is all aglow.
I know I have the chance today to pay back what I owe.
Not free am I from guilt or grief; my path is never clear.
Yet nonetheless I forge ahead, for life is just that dear.
Not perfect am I, yet I try to myself be true.
By looking straight into the mirror and not gazing through.
Friday, November 6, 2015
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Cricket Couplets
Oh Cricket song caress me and lull my woes away,
Your sweet sing song cadence keeps my pain at bay.
Your birthday on Mid-Summer's Eve sets my heart at ease,
For once I hear your mating call, it gives my soul release.
The long hot days of July herald your arrival,
Yet the cold dark nights of autumn threaten your survival.
As your voice grows hoarse and lonely searching for your mate,
My heart grows melancholy considering your fate.
Croaking into the cold autumn night,
Your sad sweet song signs the end of your fight.
Your lifespan neatly frames my favorite time of year,
And for that my Lovely Cricket is why you are so dear
Your sweet sing song cadence keeps my pain at bay.
Your birthday on Mid-Summer's Eve sets my heart at ease,
For once I hear your mating call, it gives my soul release.
The long hot days of July herald your arrival,
Yet the cold dark nights of autumn threaten your survival.
As your voice grows hoarse and lonely searching for your mate,
My heart grows melancholy considering your fate.
Croaking into the cold autumn night,
Your sad sweet song signs the end of your fight.
Your lifespan neatly frames my favorite time of year,
And for that my Lovely Cricket is why you are so dear
Monday, November 17, 2014
Erika
Erika es linda
Erika es talentosa
Erika es única
Erika es increíble
Erika es cómica
Erika es animada
Erika es divertida
Erika es humilde
Erika es una bailarina fenomenal
Erika es mi amiga
¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡Erika no puede estar desaparecida!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ayudame-a-encontrar-a-Erika
Erika es talentosa
Erika es única
Erika es increíble
Erika es cómica
Erika es animada
Erika es divertida
Erika es humilde
Erika es una bailarina fenomenal
Erika es mi amiga
¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡Erika no puede estar desaparecida!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ayudame-a-encontrar-a-Erika
Monday, August 11, 2014
A Gamer's Mother's Lament
I've hit the main switch and shut off all power to my house. Yes, I've thrown myself over the xbox console and refused to let go. Yes, I've even tackled my son to the ground in one of our many fights over video games.
Why is it so hard to find decent parental controls? Because the game manufacturers are electronic drug pushers. They have our children addicted and are taking our money to do it! So I decided to search for how to rig a kill switch for an xbox. Guess what? The manufacturers created a game called Killswitch, so I got a gaming video! Nice. The devil himself could take lessons from these guys.
I raised my son with no video or computer games from birth to about nine years old when I finally gave in. I told myself that I had held back during his formative years and that was the most crucial factor. Then, in high school, he required a computer to do his homework. At that point, how could I control the same medium he needs to do homework? But of course it proved a royal distraction and point of contention. Do I throw in the towel?
An episode of South Park provided some clues. Cesar Millan "stars" and, as the Dog Whisperer, he tames Cartman; his mom can't, as we all know. Calm assertive energy. Stop acting out of frustration and anger because then it's all steeped in too much emotion to be effective and indeed has the opposite effect.
In the face of uncertainty, not knowing what lies ahead for our kids, how will our lamer gamers survive? They'll be zombie meat!
The survivalists, or preppers as they now prefer to be called, have it right. Let's all teach our kids how to use weapons, survive in the woods, and mount an insurrection against the government as needed!
Maybe my kid's springbreak homework should be an essay entitled, "What Video Games have Taught me about Surviving the Apocalypse."
Why is it so hard to find decent parental controls? Because the game manufacturers are electronic drug pushers. They have our children addicted and are taking our money to do it! So I decided to search for how to rig a kill switch for an xbox. Guess what? The manufacturers created a game called Killswitch, so I got a gaming video! Nice. The devil himself could take lessons from these guys.
I raised my son with no video or computer games from birth to about nine years old when I finally gave in. I told myself that I had held back during his formative years and that was the most crucial factor. Then, in high school, he required a computer to do his homework. At that point, how could I control the same medium he needs to do homework? But of course it proved a royal distraction and point of contention. Do I throw in the towel?
An episode of South Park provided some clues. Cesar Millan "stars" and, as the Dog Whisperer, he tames Cartman; his mom can't, as we all know. Calm assertive energy. Stop acting out of frustration and anger because then it's all steeped in too much emotion to be effective and indeed has the opposite effect.
In the face of uncertainty, not knowing what lies ahead for our kids, how will our lamer gamers survive? They'll be zombie meat!
The survivalists, or preppers as they now prefer to be called, have it right. Let's all teach our kids how to use weapons, survive in the woods, and mount an insurrection against the government as needed!
Maybe my kid's springbreak homework should be an essay entitled, "What Video Games have Taught me about Surviving the Apocalypse."
Pieces of broken lives
The scattered and tattered scraps of clothing, personal items, toy pieces and even kitchen utensils--these used to inhabit their proper places and fulfill their useful tasks--now lie strewn and bereft of utility or future value.
I stoop for the 14th time this morning to pick up these pieces of their lives; I am putting them into a large trash bag and ridding my home of their broken energy. The children I tried to help are torn apart by the tornado of hurt that rules their lives and wounds all bystanders.
These objects bear silent witness to the child's grief and the adult's volatile self-hatred. The injuries to the soul are not healed; they only fester and explode in toxic venomous anger misdirected at the innocent and the helpers. Pain, blame, self-hatred all form partners in the cycle of abuse.
Yo te salvé del páramo y tu me muerdes la mano. How tragic that those who need help the most bite the helping hand extended to them. What were my motives in extending that hand? Was I being selfish or unselfish?
And now as I piece back together the tatters of my soul and mend my house, I fight the anger and resentment bubbling up inside. If I allow it to permeate my thoughts, then I lose the battle.
A year later, I can breathe, and I have far fewer regrets. So what if they took advantage of my good efforts and my stable home? They knew better than I that they weren't functional enough to be here, and yet I was able to provide a stepping stone and some respite while they regrouped and moved on to the next stop in their tragic young lives. Such was my life with the Aguilar family . . . sigh.
Two years later, I have no regrets. I acted on faith and good will. I wasn't exceptionally astute but now they all have their place in the world and hope springs again.
I stoop for the 14th time this morning to pick up these pieces of their lives; I am putting them into a large trash bag and ridding my home of their broken energy. The children I tried to help are torn apart by the tornado of hurt that rules their lives and wounds all bystanders.
These objects bear silent witness to the child's grief and the adult's volatile self-hatred. The injuries to the soul are not healed; they only fester and explode in toxic venomous anger misdirected at the innocent and the helpers. Pain, blame, self-hatred all form partners in the cycle of abuse.
Yo te salvé del páramo y tu me muerdes la mano. How tragic that those who need help the most bite the helping hand extended to them. What were my motives in extending that hand? Was I being selfish or unselfish?
And now as I piece back together the tatters of my soul and mend my house, I fight the anger and resentment bubbling up inside. If I allow it to permeate my thoughts, then I lose the battle.
A year later, I can breathe, and I have far fewer regrets. So what if they took advantage of my good efforts and my stable home? They knew better than I that they weren't functional enough to be here, and yet I was able to provide a stepping stone and some respite while they regrouped and moved on to the next stop in their tragic young lives. Such was my life with the Aguilar family . . . sigh.
Two years later, I have no regrets. I acted on faith and good will. I wasn't exceptionally astute but now they all have their place in the world and hope springs again.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Not so Unitarian
Namasté . . . . ¡Bitches!
The sacred in me offers a third-finger salute to the profane in you.
As a fourth generation Unitarian, I have much in common with my fellow congregants and all the other vestiges which my church offers; however, to truly value and respect the human dignity in every other human being on this planet is a tough one!
Thursday, May 9, 2013
In Praise of Pat
Representative Patricia Schroeder, the first woman elected to the U.S. Congress from my home state of Colorado, had a razor-sharp wit and an unstoppable cheerfulness. The new term, "Congressperson" was coined to accomodate her gender and position. When she was once criticized for "running as a woman" she replied, "Do I have a choice?"
When asked how she could be a Representative of the U.S. Congress and a mother at the same time, she quipped, "I have a brain and a uterus and I use both."
She should be remembered for the Family Medical Leave Act which allows eligible employees 12 weeks of unpaid, job-protected leave based on a family emergency or medical necessity; it also includes the birth or adoption of a child. At the time, the first President George Bush vowed to veto "any maternity-leave type of legislation." She called him anti-motherhood~!!
Born Patrica Nell Scott in 1940, she and I share our middle name, plus she became friends and political allies with my staunchly Democratic parents. She was definitely one of the heroes of my youth and remains so today.
Once I saw her on Halloween about 1987 or 88. Ironically I was dressed up as "Pat" the androgynous character on SNL. At the last minute, I had pinned a Pat (Schroeder) button on my lapel in case no one could guess my costume. I hadn't expected to see her, but we stopped by a Democractic Halloween party and there she was. ~ And she immediately guessed my costume and had a good chuckle when she saw the button!
She returned to Denver in Fall 2013 to stump for Andrew Romanoff who is running for the U.S. House. She hasn't changed a bit and amid her various quips, I especially appreciated the following in the light of the many deadly shootings: Gun nuts are keeping us from controlling nuts with guns!
She also addressed the cynicism that paralyzes many would-be activists. The word, "cynic," comes from Greek and tranlates literally as currish or being a nasty, yapping dog! Now, I'm a dog lover, but I can appreciate exactly what she means.
Dearest Pat: Thank you so much for all the warm inspiration you have provided me. Adelante Cuata!
When asked how she could be a Representative of the U.S. Congress and a mother at the same time, she quipped, "I have a brain and a uterus and I use both."
She should be remembered for the Family Medical Leave Act which allows eligible employees 12 weeks of unpaid, job-protected leave based on a family emergency or medical necessity; it also includes the birth or adoption of a child. At the time, the first President George Bush vowed to veto "any maternity-leave type of legislation." She called him anti-motherhood~!!
Born Patrica Nell Scott in 1940, she and I share our middle name, plus she became friends and political allies with my staunchly Democratic parents. She was definitely one of the heroes of my youth and remains so today.
Once I saw her on Halloween about 1987 or 88. Ironically I was dressed up as "Pat" the androgynous character on SNL. At the last minute, I had pinned a Pat (Schroeder) button on my lapel in case no one could guess my costume. I hadn't expected to see her, but we stopped by a Democractic Halloween party and there she was. ~ And she immediately guessed my costume and had a good chuckle when she saw the button!
She returned to Denver in Fall 2013 to stump for Andrew Romanoff who is running for the U.S. House. She hasn't changed a bit and amid her various quips, I especially appreciated the following in the light of the many deadly shootings: Gun nuts are keeping us from controlling nuts with guns!
She also addressed the cynicism that paralyzes many would-be activists. The word, "cynic," comes from Greek and tranlates literally as currish or being a nasty, yapping dog! Now, I'm a dog lover, but I can appreciate exactly what she means.
Dearest Pat: Thank you so much for all the warm inspiration you have provided me. Adelante Cuata!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)