I submitted two manuscripts to the US Copyright Office this morning, one for my novella, and one for my novel, another step closer to publication.
When I was working on Kindle Direct Publishing yesterday, one of the most important steps in publishing successfully is a book description. It is harder than I thought it would be.
I thought I might try the book descriptions out on my blog readers to ask for feedback. Here is the novella description:
Imagine a trio of five year old matchmakers determined to see everyone as happy as their mommy and daddy (Rosadel and Clancy) and their Grandma Harriet and Grandpa George.
These are the Marshall triplets; Lou, Rosie and Grace.
Imagine a town in Southeast Louisiana, where the community is strong, and life revolves around family, friends and faith.
This is Bayou Beni.
Come sit a spell and visit as life in Bayou Beni gets more interesting with the arrival of Jessie Tate. Will the triplets succeed in making a match for Jessie?
Here are my current thoughts for the novel.
The Marshall triplets have livened things up again. They found a box on the Holy Redeemer playground with a momma cat and six kittens. They decided to put the cat and kittens in the nativity scene. It wasn't their best idea.
Come on back to Bayou Beni as Rosadel and Clancy struggle to teach the girls impulse control, and the girls embark on their next matchmaking adventure.
Cassidy Bourgeois is relieved to have a foster family for an abandoned cat and her kittens, but will she get more than she bargained for interacting with the Marshall clan?
I know these are very rough drafts and need work. I think they are both too short. I don't know how fast or slow the copyright office moves, but I know I have at least as much time as it will take for me to format the books for paperback editions.
Please blog readers, any and all feedback is appreciated.
Thanks!
Thursday, April 5, 2018
Friday, March 30, 2018
Hate is not a mental illness
I'm still not blogging as much as I want to be, but I am doing better with my writing, and expect to publish my novels with Kindle Direct Publishing before the end of April. Exciting stuff.
This particular entry has been percolating since the Parkland shooting on February 14. I am sick and tired of people talking about mental illness when it involves mass shootings.
I don't think these mass shooters are mentally ill. I think they have embraced hate to such an extent that they are evil. Not sick. Not redeemable. Evil.
My religious side rejects my previous paragraph. My spiritual side demands that anyone can choose to embrace the light, embrace the good, and be redeemed.
My pragmatic side says no.
Mental illness shouldn't even be a term. Illness covers it. Whether you have a brain, or a heart, or a respiratory system, or an endocrine system, or a digestive system that is working in such a way that your quality of life is negatively impacted, that system or organ should be treated so that you can enjoy a good quality of life. The very term mental illness carries a connotation that is offensive. So let's just stop using it.
I completely understand that gun violence and depression have a correlation. I understand that gun violence and inappropriate anger management have a correlation. I understand that gun violence and hopelessness have a correlation.
To fix the gun violence problem in America, we have to find an answer to how to provide appropriate health care to every person in America. Without creating a financial burden that in and of itself will provide a correlation with gun violence.
But we have to stop with making excuses of any kind for mass shooters.
They are hateful. They have embraced hate of the other, whoever they perceive the other to be. Now that we have caught a couple, and not had them die in the act of cowardice that took multiple lives, we are able to study them, and find they have no remorse. If anything, they are only sorry they didn't get the chance to kill more people.
So let's stop pretending it is anything other than what it is. Some people have been raised to be full of anger and hate. Some people gravitate towards anger and hate, and seek out like minded people.
It doesn't really matter how they got there. Whether it is nature or nurture, some people choose hate. They choose anger. They choose violence.
These are not the same as people who in desperation take a gun and kill themselves or their loved ones. They are not the same as people who accidentally shoot a family member showing them a new weapon. They are not the same people whose children shoot each other because a weapon was inappropriately stored or secured. They are not the people who discharge a weapon in self-defense.
We need to stop pretending that gun violence in America is one problem that will have one solution. It is a multi-faceted problem that will take a complex solution set.
That is why the Centers for Disease Control need to study gun violence and its outcomes, both injury and illness. Once we have the data, we can start to parse it, and find out the subsets of gun violence, and seek to understand the chains of cause and effect that can be interrupted to stop this plague in America.
As for the mass shooters? If we can keep weapons of war and high capacity ammunition magazines out of their hands, perhaps we can limit their carnage. How to prevent them? I just don't know. In the study of human history, it seems we have always had those who choose evil, who choose to do harm rather than good.
The struggle of good versus evil is the most enduring story of humanity. It seems that certain nations and cultures manage that struggle in their populations better than America does. Arguably, some cultures and nations have an even more apparent struggle between the two forces.
I afraid that until America gets serious about doing something about the proliferation of guns and the celebration of violence as a problem solving technique, we are going to continue going in a terrible direction. I hope I'm wrong.
This particular entry has been percolating since the Parkland shooting on February 14. I am sick and tired of people talking about mental illness when it involves mass shootings.
I don't think these mass shooters are mentally ill. I think they have embraced hate to such an extent that they are evil. Not sick. Not redeemable. Evil.
My religious side rejects my previous paragraph. My spiritual side demands that anyone can choose to embrace the light, embrace the good, and be redeemed.
My pragmatic side says no.
Mental illness shouldn't even be a term. Illness covers it. Whether you have a brain, or a heart, or a respiratory system, or an endocrine system, or a digestive system that is working in such a way that your quality of life is negatively impacted, that system or organ should be treated so that you can enjoy a good quality of life. The very term mental illness carries a connotation that is offensive. So let's just stop using it.
I completely understand that gun violence and depression have a correlation. I understand that gun violence and inappropriate anger management have a correlation. I understand that gun violence and hopelessness have a correlation.
To fix the gun violence problem in America, we have to find an answer to how to provide appropriate health care to every person in America. Without creating a financial burden that in and of itself will provide a correlation with gun violence.
But we have to stop with making excuses of any kind for mass shooters.
They are hateful. They have embraced hate of the other, whoever they perceive the other to be. Now that we have caught a couple, and not had them die in the act of cowardice that took multiple lives, we are able to study them, and find they have no remorse. If anything, they are only sorry they didn't get the chance to kill more people.
So let's stop pretending it is anything other than what it is. Some people have been raised to be full of anger and hate. Some people gravitate towards anger and hate, and seek out like minded people.
It doesn't really matter how they got there. Whether it is nature or nurture, some people choose hate. They choose anger. They choose violence.
These are not the same as people who in desperation take a gun and kill themselves or their loved ones. They are not the same as people who accidentally shoot a family member showing them a new weapon. They are not the same people whose children shoot each other because a weapon was inappropriately stored or secured. They are not the people who discharge a weapon in self-defense.
We need to stop pretending that gun violence in America is one problem that will have one solution. It is a multi-faceted problem that will take a complex solution set.
That is why the Centers for Disease Control need to study gun violence and its outcomes, both injury and illness. Once we have the data, we can start to parse it, and find out the subsets of gun violence, and seek to understand the chains of cause and effect that can be interrupted to stop this plague in America.
As for the mass shooters? If we can keep weapons of war and high capacity ammunition magazines out of their hands, perhaps we can limit their carnage. How to prevent them? I just don't know. In the study of human history, it seems we have always had those who choose evil, who choose to do harm rather than good.
The struggle of good versus evil is the most enduring story of humanity. It seems that certain nations and cultures manage that struggle in their populations better than America does. Arguably, some cultures and nations have an even more apparent struggle between the two forces.
I afraid that until America gets serious about doing something about the proliferation of guns and the celebration of violence as a problem solving technique, we are going to continue going in a terrible direction. I hope I'm wrong.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
Pivotal Moments
One time after Hurricane Katrina, I was trying to explain to my mother how disorienting it was when most of your familiar landmarks disappeared all at the same time. My mother didn't understand what I was trying to tell her. She told me that most of the landmarks of her childhood had disappeared, and that life just did that. I couldn't explain the difference in emotion generated when things singularly fade away over time, and when they implode in an instant.
When Katrina hit and the levees breached, many people from Biloxi, Mississippi to Southeast Louisiana had their world implode. It is hard to tell which street is yours when there is only an occasional house or tree standing. I remembered watching video after Hurricane Andrew hit Homestead, Florida. People were wandering through the rubble that used to be their subdivision, and they couldn't figure out where their house used to be.
People on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi lived through that. In Louisiana, in the lower parishes, they experienced that. Those whose homes were closest to the levee breaches experienced that. For the rest of us, it was going back to a house that looked normal but was a flooded mess on the inside, or going back to a house that was spared only to be surrounded by empty houses, and no services. It was disorienting for those of us spared significant property damage or loss of loved ones, to traumatizing for those that lost all their possessions, or worse, lost a loved one.
No matter how much or how little those living in the Katrina Zone were impacted, we were all changed forever. There is a level of security, of trust that things will be okay, of certainty in our institutions that is gone forever.
The students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School experienced that devastating implosion on February 14, 2018. A lone gunman entered their school and killed seventeen people. Anyone choosing to watch the news can see the tremendous emotion generated by that implosion. What they can't see is how profoundly changed that community is.
Their lives will never be the same. They will never be the same. I have heard many people talking about the students and their activism. I have heard people disparage them, and denigrate them. I have heard people applaud them and celebrate them.
I have heard people say that their innocence and their childhoods were abruptly ended and stolen from them.
What I haven't heard is an acknowledgement that not just the students and teachers and families were forever changed, but the entire community was.
As many communities have been forever changed by a school shooting.
We have natural disasters all the time that steal normalcy like Katrina did. What we don't often have in natural disasters is a complete failure of our support institutions to protect the citizenry. Many residents in Puerto Rico are experiencing what we did in Katrina, and will be forever changed. I had hoped that Katrina had taught lessons that would not be easily forgotten, Maria and Puerto Rico proved that hope false.
For the communities forever changed by a school shooting, there was never any hope that change had occurred. The people of Newtown, Connecticut and Sandy Hook Elementary School have made tremendous grass roots efforts, and effected change in multiple localities, but no national change has occurred. The community of Parkland, Florida are turning their disorientation, their anger, their fear into action. They are hoping for change, they are demanding change.
Not everyone will agree with the changes they demand. Anyone who has not suffered a pivotal loss will not understand the depth and power of the emotion fueling that demand.
Non-judgmental listening is the minimum we owe to that community and to every community that suffers a devastating loss like a school shooting.
And we should all be willing to think long and hard about why we would deny their demands. Are they asking for something that will personally hurt us the way it hurts to bury a child torn apart by bullets? Anything that would personally hurt us the way it hurts to see your friends hunted and gunned down in your school?
Are you so attached to your rights that you can no longer see that the good of society might not be served by what you want? Have you become so attached to an ideal that compromise is not something you will consider?
In order for change to happen, compromise is necessary. Complex solutions to problems like epic natural disasters in hard to reach locations and excessive violence in American society are not going to have single node simple solutions.
Complex problems require complex solutions. Complex solutions required reasonable dialogue. Name calling and blaming and casting people into friend or foe caricatures impedes real dialogue.
We need to find solutions. We need to help people after a catastrophic natural disaster. We need to stop leading the world in school shootings and mass shootings. We can't do that if we are shouting at each other and calling each other names and insisting that we know the only right answer.
Maybe, just maybe, we can stop trying to fit each other into neat little boxes. Maybe, just maybe, we can stop pinning labels on each other. Maybe, just maybe, we can finally accept that perfect answers don't exist, but trying to work towards better is a good thing.
I hope so. Because this particular normal being permanent is too depressing to contemplate.
When Katrina hit and the levees breached, many people from Biloxi, Mississippi to Southeast Louisiana had their world implode. It is hard to tell which street is yours when there is only an occasional house or tree standing. I remembered watching video after Hurricane Andrew hit Homestead, Florida. People were wandering through the rubble that used to be their subdivision, and they couldn't figure out where their house used to be.
People on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi lived through that. In Louisiana, in the lower parishes, they experienced that. Those whose homes were closest to the levee breaches experienced that. For the rest of us, it was going back to a house that looked normal but was a flooded mess on the inside, or going back to a house that was spared only to be surrounded by empty houses, and no services. It was disorienting for those of us spared significant property damage or loss of loved ones, to traumatizing for those that lost all their possessions, or worse, lost a loved one.
No matter how much or how little those living in the Katrina Zone were impacted, we were all changed forever. There is a level of security, of trust that things will be okay, of certainty in our institutions that is gone forever.
The students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School experienced that devastating implosion on February 14, 2018. A lone gunman entered their school and killed seventeen people. Anyone choosing to watch the news can see the tremendous emotion generated by that implosion. What they can't see is how profoundly changed that community is.
Their lives will never be the same. They will never be the same. I have heard many people talking about the students and their activism. I have heard people disparage them, and denigrate them. I have heard people applaud them and celebrate them.
I have heard people say that their innocence and their childhoods were abruptly ended and stolen from them.
What I haven't heard is an acknowledgement that not just the students and teachers and families were forever changed, but the entire community was.
As many communities have been forever changed by a school shooting.
We have natural disasters all the time that steal normalcy like Katrina did. What we don't often have in natural disasters is a complete failure of our support institutions to protect the citizenry. Many residents in Puerto Rico are experiencing what we did in Katrina, and will be forever changed. I had hoped that Katrina had taught lessons that would not be easily forgotten, Maria and Puerto Rico proved that hope false.
For the communities forever changed by a school shooting, there was never any hope that change had occurred. The people of Newtown, Connecticut and Sandy Hook Elementary School have made tremendous grass roots efforts, and effected change in multiple localities, but no national change has occurred. The community of Parkland, Florida are turning their disorientation, their anger, their fear into action. They are hoping for change, they are demanding change.
Not everyone will agree with the changes they demand. Anyone who has not suffered a pivotal loss will not understand the depth and power of the emotion fueling that demand.
Non-judgmental listening is the minimum we owe to that community and to every community that suffers a devastating loss like a school shooting.
And we should all be willing to think long and hard about why we would deny their demands. Are they asking for something that will personally hurt us the way it hurts to bury a child torn apart by bullets? Anything that would personally hurt us the way it hurts to see your friends hunted and gunned down in your school?
Are you so attached to your rights that you can no longer see that the good of society might not be served by what you want? Have you become so attached to an ideal that compromise is not something you will consider?
In order for change to happen, compromise is necessary. Complex solutions to problems like epic natural disasters in hard to reach locations and excessive violence in American society are not going to have single node simple solutions.
Complex problems require complex solutions. Complex solutions required reasonable dialogue. Name calling and blaming and casting people into friend or foe caricatures impedes real dialogue.
We need to find solutions. We need to help people after a catastrophic natural disaster. We need to stop leading the world in school shootings and mass shootings. We can't do that if we are shouting at each other and calling each other names and insisting that we know the only right answer.
Maybe, just maybe, we can stop trying to fit each other into neat little boxes. Maybe, just maybe, we can stop pinning labels on each other. Maybe, just maybe, we can finally accept that perfect answers don't exist, but trying to work towards better is a good thing.
I hope so. Because this particular normal being permanent is too depressing to contemplate.
Tuesday, February 6, 2018
Life Force
Another post started a long time ago, it is time to finish. Original post in blue font.
Spent time in New Jersey with family for a few days. Visiting is hard now, as my Mom's Alzheimer's progresses. This visit was especially hard, as my mother's sister has been diagnosed with lung cancer.
We spent a lot of time with her this trip. We visited every day we were there, and took her to see Mom twice. We also took her out to dinner one night.
She has decided to undergo radiation therapy to try to eradicate her cancer. She will go five times a week for six weeks. I don't know that she will survive the treatment. She is very thin and frail, and has very limited mobility. Her skin is very dry and thin and tears super easy. I can't imagine that she can withstand any additional weight loss, and that is a side effect of radiation therapy.
What is not diminished in any way is her life force. She wants to live. She wants to make a contribution. Her life force is strong.
And that got me to wondering (because you know I always do), why do some people have such a strong life force?
I don't want to creep anyone out, and I certainly don't have a death wish, but I don't know how hard I would fight to cling on to life. I mean I would right now, because my quality of life is high. But if I were in pain all the time, or if I was too weak to do the things I wanted to do, or if I knew I had a terminal illness that treatment would be inconclusively painful, I think I would be ready to let it go.
I don't know if that makes me selfish, or is just another expression of the pragmatic approach I have always tried to take to life.
Fast forward almost a year. My aunt is doing great. Came through the radiation, cancer in remission, has gained weight and strength. Simply amazing. And I'm still thinking about life force.
I finished a novel last night that brought me back to my thoughts about life force. The title of the novel is White Rose, Black Forest, and it is historical fiction set in World War II Germany. I highly recommend this novel, and so I don't want to give too much away. But I will say that the life force of certain characters in the book ebbs and flows as their potential to do good is revealed to them.
And that got me to thinking about what it is that fuels our life force. It was obvious watching my aunt battle cancer at eighty-eight that she felt she had important work yet to do, and needed to stay alive to do that work.
In the book, a sense of purpose, of the ability to right a wrong, or to make headway against evil was the important fuel to the character's life force.
I approach this same thought from many different directions and perspectives, but it appears one of the single most important things a person needs to maintain a life force is a strong sense of purpose.
And you don't have to be famous, or celebrated to change the world. Your helping hand, your contribution, your smile, your words of encouragement, they can be the contribution needed.
When feeling like you are not doing enough, or feeling like you can't make a difference that matters, do one small thing. Compliment someone. Send a note to a friend. Make a phone call. Volunteer. Feed your life force with purpose.
Each day's purpose can be small. Say a prayer. Meditate for peace. Visit with someone. But find purpose.
The good in the world is the compilation of thousands to millions of small acts of goodness. You can add to the beauty with your words and your actions.
I keep getting sucked into the darkness that is so prevalent in the world right now. Sometimes it feels like something big has to be done to make things better.
Stories of World War II can bring home how the small brave actions of ordinary people changed the course of the war.
We're not in the dramatic circumstances of World War II, but we are confronted daily with the insidious nature of prejudice, hatred and fear.
We can take small brave actions to strengthen tolerance, and love and hope. One small, kind word or action at a time.
And that is a purpose worth having. And fuel for your life force.
Spent time in New Jersey with family for a few days. Visiting is hard now, as my Mom's Alzheimer's progresses. This visit was especially hard, as my mother's sister has been diagnosed with lung cancer.
We spent a lot of time with her this trip. We visited every day we were there, and took her to see Mom twice. We also took her out to dinner one night.
She has decided to undergo radiation therapy to try to eradicate her cancer. She will go five times a week for six weeks. I don't know that she will survive the treatment. She is very thin and frail, and has very limited mobility. Her skin is very dry and thin and tears super easy. I can't imagine that she can withstand any additional weight loss, and that is a side effect of radiation therapy.
What is not diminished in any way is her life force. She wants to live. She wants to make a contribution. Her life force is strong.
And that got me to wondering (because you know I always do), why do some people have such a strong life force?
I don't want to creep anyone out, and I certainly don't have a death wish, but I don't know how hard I would fight to cling on to life. I mean I would right now, because my quality of life is high. But if I were in pain all the time, or if I was too weak to do the things I wanted to do, or if I knew I had a terminal illness that treatment would be inconclusively painful, I think I would be ready to let it go.
I don't know if that makes me selfish, or is just another expression of the pragmatic approach I have always tried to take to life.
Fast forward almost a year. My aunt is doing great. Came through the radiation, cancer in remission, has gained weight and strength. Simply amazing. And I'm still thinking about life force.
I finished a novel last night that brought me back to my thoughts about life force. The title of the novel is White Rose, Black Forest, and it is historical fiction set in World War II Germany. I highly recommend this novel, and so I don't want to give too much away. But I will say that the life force of certain characters in the book ebbs and flows as their potential to do good is revealed to them.
And that got me to thinking about what it is that fuels our life force. It was obvious watching my aunt battle cancer at eighty-eight that she felt she had important work yet to do, and needed to stay alive to do that work.
In the book, a sense of purpose, of the ability to right a wrong, or to make headway against evil was the important fuel to the character's life force.
I approach this same thought from many different directions and perspectives, but it appears one of the single most important things a person needs to maintain a life force is a strong sense of purpose.
And you don't have to be famous, or celebrated to change the world. Your helping hand, your contribution, your smile, your words of encouragement, they can be the contribution needed.
When feeling like you are not doing enough, or feeling like you can't make a difference that matters, do one small thing. Compliment someone. Send a note to a friend. Make a phone call. Volunteer. Feed your life force with purpose.
Each day's purpose can be small. Say a prayer. Meditate for peace. Visit with someone. But find purpose.
The good in the world is the compilation of thousands to millions of small acts of goodness. You can add to the beauty with your words and your actions.
I keep getting sucked into the darkness that is so prevalent in the world right now. Sometimes it feels like something big has to be done to make things better.
Stories of World War II can bring home how the small brave actions of ordinary people changed the course of the war.
We're not in the dramatic circumstances of World War II, but we are confronted daily with the insidious nature of prejudice, hatred and fear.
We can take small brave actions to strengthen tolerance, and love and hope. One small, kind word or action at a time.
And that is a purpose worth having. And fuel for your life force.
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
What happens when your good karma is depleted?
One of the invisible, unprovable things I believe in is karma. I truly believe that the good that you do has real value, and that it brings you good, and the bad that you do does real harm and brings you bad.
This morning, as I was washing dishes and folding laundry and putting more laundry in the washer and dryer, I thought about how I'm stuck in a place I really don't like.
Those of you who follow my blog know that I haven't been writing much lately, and that my posts have been steadily tapering off since the Autumn of 2016. I've talked about the problem before. I just don't feel inspired, and have a hard time finding something inspiring to say. And I don't want to use this blog to just complain about the things I don't like.
Because the Super Bowl is coming up on February 4, I was thinking about what we are planning to do for Super Bowl Sunday, and right now it is basically nothing. And then I started thinking about the year the Saints were in the Super Bowl and won. It was so good. So amazing. But right after the Super Bowl I got really sick. The sickest I have been since high school. I had to drop out of a marathon. The next couple of years were kind of a downward spiral. My mom had a stroke and we had to put her in a nursing home. My plantar fasciitis got so bad I limped all the time. I started gaining serious weight. I had been given a great assignment at work, but then they posted my job at a higher grade than I had been compensated at. I felt like the universe was taking a huge dump on me. Did I use up all my good karma trying to get the Saints to win the Super Bowl?
In 2012, I signed up for a lifestyle change program called Weight No More. I helped clean out my mom's house, helped my sister find a place to live, and released the first products of the work project. Life took a decided upswing. I must have refilled my karma balance with the good works I had done. Life stayed on a somewhat upward trajectory until 2015, when I had a stroke. That was more of a bump in the road, though, I recovered well, and kept moving in a mostly positive direction.
2016 was a tough year. My mother-in-law died, and my son-in-law's father died. The United States appeared to be heading in a very bad direction, and the Chicago Cubs made it to the World Series. I wanted the Cubs to win as much as I wanted the Saints to win. And they did. And since then, it feels like nothing has gone well.
I expected to finish my novel last spring. Still working on it. Our pool ruptured, it is repaired, but the scar reminds us. I fell and broke my wrist. I picked up some weight, so I am heavier than I want to be, and I can't seem to find the will to do anything about it other than be miserable. The situation in the United States continues to deteriorate, with school shootings becoming commonplace, with 11 school shootings in the first 23 days of 2018. The acrimony and hatefulness in our national dialogue knows no boundaries. We seem to have become a nation of blame, and anger and division. I don't see anyone in a leadership position trying to bring us back together and move us forward in a positive direction. I'm afraid I used up all my good karma getting the Cubs a World Series Championship.
The problem is that I don't know how to rebuild my karma reserves. I do nice things for people. I try to be kind, and understanding and generous, but I'm not getting anywhere. This blog should be a way I try to lift people up, and I'm trying to get back to that. I have to finish my novel, and maybe that will start making deposits in my karma bank.
So what do you think? Can our good karma run out? How do you build up your karma balance? I'm determined to get out of the bad place I am in, and if I figure out a magic formula, I'll be sure to let you know. Until then, I'll be busy trying to rebuild my karma balance. I need for good things to happen.
This morning, as I was washing dishes and folding laundry and putting more laundry in the washer and dryer, I thought about how I'm stuck in a place I really don't like.
Those of you who follow my blog know that I haven't been writing much lately, and that my posts have been steadily tapering off since the Autumn of 2016. I've talked about the problem before. I just don't feel inspired, and have a hard time finding something inspiring to say. And I don't want to use this blog to just complain about the things I don't like.
Because the Super Bowl is coming up on February 4, I was thinking about what we are planning to do for Super Bowl Sunday, and right now it is basically nothing. And then I started thinking about the year the Saints were in the Super Bowl and won. It was so good. So amazing. But right after the Super Bowl I got really sick. The sickest I have been since high school. I had to drop out of a marathon. The next couple of years were kind of a downward spiral. My mom had a stroke and we had to put her in a nursing home. My plantar fasciitis got so bad I limped all the time. I started gaining serious weight. I had been given a great assignment at work, but then they posted my job at a higher grade than I had been compensated at. I felt like the universe was taking a huge dump on me. Did I use up all my good karma trying to get the Saints to win the Super Bowl?
In 2012, I signed up for a lifestyle change program called Weight No More. I helped clean out my mom's house, helped my sister find a place to live, and released the first products of the work project. Life took a decided upswing. I must have refilled my karma balance with the good works I had done. Life stayed on a somewhat upward trajectory until 2015, when I had a stroke. That was more of a bump in the road, though, I recovered well, and kept moving in a mostly positive direction.
2016 was a tough year. My mother-in-law died, and my son-in-law's father died. The United States appeared to be heading in a very bad direction, and the Chicago Cubs made it to the World Series. I wanted the Cubs to win as much as I wanted the Saints to win. And they did. And since then, it feels like nothing has gone well.
I expected to finish my novel last spring. Still working on it. Our pool ruptured, it is repaired, but the scar reminds us. I fell and broke my wrist. I picked up some weight, so I am heavier than I want to be, and I can't seem to find the will to do anything about it other than be miserable. The situation in the United States continues to deteriorate, with school shootings becoming commonplace, with 11 school shootings in the first 23 days of 2018. The acrimony and hatefulness in our national dialogue knows no boundaries. We seem to have become a nation of blame, and anger and division. I don't see anyone in a leadership position trying to bring us back together and move us forward in a positive direction. I'm afraid I used up all my good karma getting the Cubs a World Series Championship.
The problem is that I don't know how to rebuild my karma reserves. I do nice things for people. I try to be kind, and understanding and generous, but I'm not getting anywhere. This blog should be a way I try to lift people up, and I'm trying to get back to that. I have to finish my novel, and maybe that will start making deposits in my karma bank.
So what do you think? Can our good karma run out? How do you build up your karma balance? I'm determined to get out of the bad place I am in, and if I figure out a magic formula, I'll be sure to let you know. Until then, I'll be busy trying to rebuild my karma balance. I need for good things to happen.
Monday, January 22, 2018
Hamburgers and Life
I started this post back in September or October - and ran into a wall trying to finish it. I'll change the font color of the original words before I post the final version.
I was listening to the radio this morning, and the morning show host and the morning news guy were talking about one of the festivals in New Orleans this weekend, The New Orleans Burger Fest.
The show host asked the news guy how he liked his burgers. The news guy replied he liked it simple, cheese, lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise. The host replied that he hated cheese on a burger, and was a fan of pickles, onions and mustard on his burgers. The news guy was like no cheese? And the host was like NO! And then the host said "And isn't that just what makes the world?".
What it got me to wondering is why we can't be live and let live about more than just what you like to put on your hamburger.
Really, isn't that just what makes the world? That we are all different and that we all like and don't like different things? Why isn't that something we celebrate instead of fight about?
So much of the acrimony in the world and in the media and on social media is focused around our differences. Differences are good. They are interesting.
I hear so many people deciding that they know something about someone because of what they like. So what if a person likes tattoos and has a bunch of them. Or a bunch of piercings. Or really long hair. Or really short hair. Or blue or orange or purple or green hair.
Some people like rock music, and some like gospel, and some like country, and some like oldies, and some like opera and some like classical, and it goes on and on. Why should it matter what kind of music someone likes to listen to or perform?
And once you get past the superficial, if you think about it, there are many differences that are substantive that just don't matter either.
Don't we all bleed when cut? Don't we all grieve when a loved one dies? Don't we all hurt when betrayed or disregarded by those we care about?
What does it matter in the larger scheme of things if someone is Democrat or Republican or Independent? If they are Christian or Jewish or Muslim or Atheist? If they believe in big government or small government? In states rights or a powerful federal control?
It seems that so many people I hear and see have forgotten that we have more in common than we have things that separate us. Everyone is free to work towards creating a home where things are as they like them to be. Everyone is free to believe whatever they want to believe. Why is it so hard to allow that freedom?
I have many friends that I disagree with on a number of subjects. Some of them are the kind of friends that I can explore those differences with, and get a better understanding of how they have arrived at their beliefs. Some of them are the kind of friends that I just find other things to talk about.
The divisiveness and acrimony are only going to get worse until more of us try to make it better.
I think a good place to start is with the old adage, if you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything.
I might not agree with some things I hear and see, but if someone is respectful and kind in their appreciation of something I don't appreciate, there is no need for me to comment.
There are very few people in anyone's life that can be influenced to change their position on an issue or a person. Sometimes, I understand that we all have to try. But I think presenting an opposing position in a positive way will always yield a better result than telling someone they are wrong.
I'm trying harder to just say what I think and feel in a positive way, rather than being negative about what I think is wrong. I'm quiet a lot.
I truly want a world where more people can agree to disagree, where more people can recognize we are all more than our political or religious beliefs, where we value each other just because we are humans cohabiting on this planet.
Each time we chose to find common ground instead of formulating our argument, is a step towards a more civil and productive discourse.
I want to get there.
I was listening to the radio this morning, and the morning show host and the morning news guy were talking about one of the festivals in New Orleans this weekend, The New Orleans Burger Fest.
The show host asked the news guy how he liked his burgers. The news guy replied he liked it simple, cheese, lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise. The host replied that he hated cheese on a burger, and was a fan of pickles, onions and mustard on his burgers. The news guy was like no cheese? And the host was like NO! And then the host said "And isn't that just what makes the world?".
What it got me to wondering is why we can't be live and let live about more than just what you like to put on your hamburger.
Really, isn't that just what makes the world? That we are all different and that we all like and don't like different things? Why isn't that something we celebrate instead of fight about?
So much of the acrimony in the world and in the media and on social media is focused around our differences. Differences are good. They are interesting.
I hear so many people deciding that they know something about someone because of what they like. So what if a person likes tattoos and has a bunch of them. Or a bunch of piercings. Or really long hair. Or really short hair. Or blue or orange or purple or green hair.
Some people like rock music, and some like gospel, and some like country, and some like oldies, and some like opera and some like classical, and it goes on and on. Why should it matter what kind of music someone likes to listen to or perform?
And once you get past the superficial, if you think about it, there are many differences that are substantive that just don't matter either.
Don't we all bleed when cut? Don't we all grieve when a loved one dies? Don't we all hurt when betrayed or disregarded by those we care about?
What does it matter in the larger scheme of things if someone is Democrat or Republican or Independent? If they are Christian or Jewish or Muslim or Atheist? If they believe in big government or small government? In states rights or a powerful federal control?
It seems that so many people I hear and see have forgotten that we have more in common than we have things that separate us. Everyone is free to work towards creating a home where things are as they like them to be. Everyone is free to believe whatever they want to believe. Why is it so hard to allow that freedom?
I have many friends that I disagree with on a number of subjects. Some of them are the kind of friends that I can explore those differences with, and get a better understanding of how they have arrived at their beliefs. Some of them are the kind of friends that I just find other things to talk about.
The divisiveness and acrimony are only going to get worse until more of us try to make it better.
I think a good place to start is with the old adage, if you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything.
I might not agree with some things I hear and see, but if someone is respectful and kind in their appreciation of something I don't appreciate, there is no need for me to comment.
There are very few people in anyone's life that can be influenced to change their position on an issue or a person. Sometimes, I understand that we all have to try. But I think presenting an opposing position in a positive way will always yield a better result than telling someone they are wrong.
I'm trying harder to just say what I think and feel in a positive way, rather than being negative about what I think is wrong. I'm quiet a lot.
I truly want a world where more people can agree to disagree, where more people can recognize we are all more than our political or religious beliefs, where we value each other just because we are humans cohabiting on this planet.
Each time we chose to find common ground instead of formulating our argument, is a step towards a more civil and productive discourse.
I want to get there.
Friday, January 19, 2018
Another lost week
What a weird disrupted week it has been.
It started out well on Sunday. My husband and I were in Pensacola Beach, Florida. We had done a 10 kilometer road race on Saturday, and had both won the Master's (40 and over) division. We had a wonderful lazy Saturday after that, and had a leisurely wake up on Sunday morning.
We went for a three mile walk, and then went to a champagne brunch, went back to the hotel to make use of the hot tub, and then settled in for an afternoon of football. Even though the Saints lost on the last play of the game in epic fashion, it was still a good day. But then.........
The ride home from Pensacola was uneventful, and I unpacked and we went for a walk to get the kinks out from the long (220 mile) ride home. It was when I went to pick up the dogs from daycare that things started to go downhill.
Scarlett had a squinty eye. I thought maybe she had gotten some soap in it when she had her bath, so I wasn't too concerned initially. After we got home, the situation deteriorated rapidly. Her eye was obviously bothering her, and then she started listing to one side, walking leaning on the wall and then she slid to the floor. I called the vet, and their answering machine referred me to the emergency clinic.
May I just say right now that Scarlett is fine. She had an ulcer on her eye, and was in considerable pain. She is healing beautifully. I didn't want you to worry while I told the rest of the story.
Emergency veterinary clinics are a wonderful thing for those of us that love our pets. I was terrified that Scarlett was having some sort of neurological event, and that she was on the verge of dying. (I go from zero to terminal in 60 seconds whenever any being I love has a health emergency. My bad. Tried to fix myself, failed.) Emergency veterinary clinics are also like human emergency rooms. Slow, scary, sad, and incredibly expensive. After four hours, I was headed home with medication, a diagnosis, lots of negative test results, and a much smaller bank account. Totally worth it.
I arrived home to increasing hysteria in the local media about an upcoming deep freeze. Temperatures lower and for a longer duration than we have experienced locally since 1989. And some sort of freezing precipitation. We never had a situation like this since we put in the pool, so my husband was worried about what would happen, pipes freezing, etc.
Tuesday was spent planning, stocking up and winterizing. My husband set up a heater under a tarp with the above ground pool piping, and set the pumps in circulation. I made a pot of chicken soup so that we would have good warm food. I also talked to my regular vet. They were going to call me anyway, as the emergency clinic had notified them that Scarlett had been in for an emergency visit. I wish human doctors could manage the quality and coordination of care that seem to come naturally to veterinarians. I made an appointment for Scarlett to see her regular vet on Wednesday morning. The freezing rain started Tuesday night, and there was a combination of freezing rain, sleet and snow throughout Tuesday night.
Wednesday morning most of the back patio and front driveway were sheets of ice. There was no way I was venturing out on that ice, with a newly healed broken arm, I didn't want to court another broken bone. Listening to the radio, local officials were asking everyone who could stay off the roads to stay off the roads. The interstates (I-10, I-55, I-12, and I-49) were all closed. My husbands freeze protection for the pool worked perfectly. I called and re-scheduled Scarlett for a Thursday appointment, and my husband and I watched Turner Classic Movies all day.
Thursday brought the news that the water pressure in Jefferson Parish was critically low, and that we all needed to conserve water. No dish washing, clothes washing, bathe and flush toilets only when absolutely necessary. Two hours later, boil water advisory. The vet called to reschedule as they had no water at the clinic. I boiled water, and decided to walk on the treadmill because there was still too much ice outside. Got off the treadmill, the vet called, did I want to bring Scarlett in, they got water back. Carefully walked around the ice patches to take Scarlett for a check of her eye, the ulcer is healing beautifully, and she can come out of the cone of shame on Sunday. Eye drops and more money.
And now it is Friday and 55 degrees Fahrenheit. We are still under a boil water advisory, but we can flush toilets and bathe. Thank God for that. They said you could wash dishes in your dishwasher if it has a sanitize setting, and mine does (YEAH!), so I washed the accumulated dishes in the dishwasher. The laundry will keep until tomorrow, as I know other people need to tax the system more than I do.
I did finally finish and ship the mermaid tails that I was working on, so I can start another crochet project and I'm ready to get back on my novel.
I realized how much I depend on the water in my faucets. And roads to drive on when I need to. And the relative health of my pets.
I hope this week doesn't set a tone for 2018. I am more convinced than ever that I love my boring life. I hope I can get back to it next week.
It started out well on Sunday. My husband and I were in Pensacola Beach, Florida. We had done a 10 kilometer road race on Saturday, and had both won the Master's (40 and over) division. We had a wonderful lazy Saturday after that, and had a leisurely wake up on Sunday morning.
We went for a three mile walk, and then went to a champagne brunch, went back to the hotel to make use of the hot tub, and then settled in for an afternoon of football. Even though the Saints lost on the last play of the game in epic fashion, it was still a good day. But then.........
The ride home from Pensacola was uneventful, and I unpacked and we went for a walk to get the kinks out from the long (220 mile) ride home. It was when I went to pick up the dogs from daycare that things started to go downhill.
Scarlett had a squinty eye. I thought maybe she had gotten some soap in it when she had her bath, so I wasn't too concerned initially. After we got home, the situation deteriorated rapidly. Her eye was obviously bothering her, and then she started listing to one side, walking leaning on the wall and then she slid to the floor. I called the vet, and their answering machine referred me to the emergency clinic.
May I just say right now that Scarlett is fine. She had an ulcer on her eye, and was in considerable pain. She is healing beautifully. I didn't want you to worry while I told the rest of the story.
Emergency veterinary clinics are a wonderful thing for those of us that love our pets. I was terrified that Scarlett was having some sort of neurological event, and that she was on the verge of dying. (I go from zero to terminal in 60 seconds whenever any being I love has a health emergency. My bad. Tried to fix myself, failed.) Emergency veterinary clinics are also like human emergency rooms. Slow, scary, sad, and incredibly expensive. After four hours, I was headed home with medication, a diagnosis, lots of negative test results, and a much smaller bank account. Totally worth it.
I arrived home to increasing hysteria in the local media about an upcoming deep freeze. Temperatures lower and for a longer duration than we have experienced locally since 1989. And some sort of freezing precipitation. We never had a situation like this since we put in the pool, so my husband was worried about what would happen, pipes freezing, etc.
Tuesday was spent planning, stocking up and winterizing. My husband set up a heater under a tarp with the above ground pool piping, and set the pumps in circulation. I made a pot of chicken soup so that we would have good warm food. I also talked to my regular vet. They were going to call me anyway, as the emergency clinic had notified them that Scarlett had been in for an emergency visit. I wish human doctors could manage the quality and coordination of care that seem to come naturally to veterinarians. I made an appointment for Scarlett to see her regular vet on Wednesday morning. The freezing rain started Tuesday night, and there was a combination of freezing rain, sleet and snow throughout Tuesday night.
Wednesday morning most of the back patio and front driveway were sheets of ice. There was no way I was venturing out on that ice, with a newly healed broken arm, I didn't want to court another broken bone. Listening to the radio, local officials were asking everyone who could stay off the roads to stay off the roads. The interstates (I-10, I-55, I-12, and I-49) were all closed. My husbands freeze protection for the pool worked perfectly. I called and re-scheduled Scarlett for a Thursday appointment, and my husband and I watched Turner Classic Movies all day.
Thursday brought the news that the water pressure in Jefferson Parish was critically low, and that we all needed to conserve water. No dish washing, clothes washing, bathe and flush toilets only when absolutely necessary. Two hours later, boil water advisory. The vet called to reschedule as they had no water at the clinic. I boiled water, and decided to walk on the treadmill because there was still too much ice outside. Got off the treadmill, the vet called, did I want to bring Scarlett in, they got water back. Carefully walked around the ice patches to take Scarlett for a check of her eye, the ulcer is healing beautifully, and she can come out of the cone of shame on Sunday. Eye drops and more money.
And now it is Friday and 55 degrees Fahrenheit. We are still under a boil water advisory, but we can flush toilets and bathe. Thank God for that. They said you could wash dishes in your dishwasher if it has a sanitize setting, and mine does (YEAH!), so I washed the accumulated dishes in the dishwasher. The laundry will keep until tomorrow, as I know other people need to tax the system more than I do.
I did finally finish and ship the mermaid tails that I was working on, so I can start another crochet project and I'm ready to get back on my novel.
I realized how much I depend on the water in my faucets. And roads to drive on when I need to. And the relative health of my pets.
I hope this week doesn't set a tone for 2018. I am more convinced than ever that I love my boring life. I hope I can get back to it next week.
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