Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Social Media



I'll write this and then Twitter a link to it. Short items get twitter, a little longer items get Facebook, and long stuff goes on the blog. To a Yahoo Group (I think those things used to be called, or are called, "loops"), I post my daily meal plans and a list of gratitudes to God.

I got the urge to describe where I'm at today in more detail than usual. So that's a job for my blog, TMI. I'm drinking iced chamomile/ginger tea. Just had lunch of lettuce, mayo, cottage cheese, cucumber with salt and lime-pepper.

I'm feeling very grateful for cows today. From them I get cottage cheese and swiss cheese and cold milk and Stonyfield Farms yogurt, iced and regular. Cows appear regularly in travel stories and novels.

I'm rereading Henderson the Rain King. I read it when I was about 20. I'd forgotten what a wonderful writer Saul Bellow was and I'm rather pleased with my younger self for having discovered him.

Another rediscovery is spirulina. I mix it into a small applesauce container and feel like I'm getting my nutrients when I haven't had enough vegetables. My cousin turned me on to it years ago. Thanks cuz.

I'm looking forward to my year at work. I'll be doing stuff I haven't done before ... and if indicators are correct I will not be doing some things I have done (no lunch duty, locker duty, recess duty assigned as yet). New things are math tutoring after school which will increase my income a little, and being a "one on one" with a seventh grader during the work days.

The picture is a nice one of my son who is a graffiti artist at our local "Third Friday" events.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

when we have been done wrong

Probably it's true for everyone that someone has done us wrong at some time in our life. And we have been accused of wrong-doing in the face of evidence that we have done good.

I used to post graphs of my student's reading progress in the hall to show that they had made remarkable growth. All the while I was being criticized for teaching reading improperly. It was a terrible year for me and it almost pushed me out of the education world completely. (Teaching is a terrible profession in many ways, but that will be the topic of another blog post). I look back at my professional career and find the most stressful and uncomfortable times have occurred when I was closest to God.

I expect that any one who is responding to God's command will run across a conflict with "the world". It is baffling. It is extremely uncomfortable. It is something we must go through, because it is not a conflict we can resolve.

18-19"If you find the godless world is hating you, remember it got its start hating me. If you lived on the world's terms, the world would love you as one of its own. But since I picked you to live on God's terms and no longer on the world's terms, the world is going to hate you. (John 15:18, The Message)

I know for sure that I have been in that wonderful state that I knew the world hated me because I was living on God's terms. But I confess that wonderful as that state of being is, I still do so much to avoid it. Because when someone does me wrong, it's not reasonable. It's not fair. It's not comfortable. It's not a problem we can solve. Reasonableness, fairness, comfort, problem solving - these are worldly things that are attractive to me. Living in God's terms involves service, humility, ... love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and faithfulness.

My prayer to God is that I can come to accept the world's hatred with joy.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Morning Bible Study

"There are two wars going on in the Middle East. The one threatens the earthly life of thousands. The other seeks the eternal life of millions. Does not God want to deal with us this morning about how utterly preoccupied we are with the one war, and how relatively ignorant and indifferent we are about the other?" - John Piper, on Acts 4:1-12

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Infinite Jest - finished the first time

It took close to two years. I finished David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest a few days ago. I plan to read it again. I was most impressed with how well DFW paints the culture of the 12 step programs - better than I've seen written anywhere else.

Monday, March 29, 2010

morning routine

Sarah used the key and knocked loudy on the door.

“Good morning, ladies. It’s me. Sarah. I’m your helper. Got any cleaning for me to do?

Gretchen’s voice probably from Ellen’s room. “Hello?”

Sarah was inside, hanging up her scarf and coat, changing into her housekeeping slippers from her clunky ‘shit kickers’. She put her snack in the refridgerator and made a mental note of the missing groceries and resolved to defrost the refrigerator in the near future.

She went upstairs to greet the ladies.

“It’s me. Sarah. It looks like I may be defrosting your refrigerator soon.”

“Oh Sarah. Good morning dear.” Gretchen greeted. She wondered if Sarah was a relative she was supposed to remember. “Yes, the refrigerator would be a good idea.”

“How’s Ellen?”

They both looked at the woman in her bed.

“She’d probably like a cup of coffee. But something’s wrong with the stove.”

Since Gretchen’s memory was worsening, Sarah was taking the knobs off the stoves in hopes that it would prevent Gretchen from turning something on and leaving it.

“That’s OK, Mrs. Wanderfelt. That’s why I’m here, to prepare things on the stove. I’ll be making you ladies breakfast. Would eggs and toast be alright? But first let me get Ellen ready to start the day.”

She went to Ellen’s bed and lowered the side bar. As she helped her swing her feet to the floor, she greeted her “Let’s help you go to the ladies room.” She patted the bed to check for wetness and was pleased to find it dry. Taking a hand and holding Ellen’s forearm with hers, they made their way to the adjoining bathroom. From the bathroom Sarah called out to Gretchen. “Would you like help washing up this morning, Mrs. Wandervelt? I left you clean clothes on your chair last night.”

By now Gretchen was sure that Sarah was a hired helper and that she and Ellen were being cared for. “God bless you, dear. I think I’ll be OK. I’ll wash up while you’re making our breakfast. And eggs and toast sound delicious. Ellen would probably like scrambled and I will too.”

She thought about when Ellen would be getting ready to go to work and never seemed to have time to eat a good breakfast.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

caregiver

Taken from a dream and a quiet time


She was holding a piece of bread to eat, but started to shred it instead. Piece by piece it fell out of view on to the floor. She found another piece on her plate and lifted it to her mouth and felt it rest in her mouth. Her jaws moved for a while and then stopped and the bread rested on her lips. Then she pulled at it with her hand and shredded that piece as well. Gretchen came into the room and moaned “Oh Ellen, you need to eat your breakfast. Oh what a mess.” She picked up pieces, with pinching arthritic fingers. and put them in her pocket. She wiped Ellen’s face with the cloth napkin and offered a sip of the strong coffee which Ellen enjoyed with smiling eyes. After a few sips Ellen’s interest diminished and Gretchen switched to the orange juice which Sarah has “spiked” with nutritional supplements. Ellen started to reach for bread again and Gretchen moved her hand to a fork. With the fork in hand, Ellen was guided to the scrambled egg. The egg fared no better than the bread. It stayed at the front of Ellen’s mouth and then her tongue moved out and to the front of her gown. After wiping that and leaving it on the side of her plate, Gretchen asked “Would you like to try it with jam?” and put a little jam on another forkful of eggs. This time Ellen sucked it to the inside of her mouth and chewed a few enthusiastic motions. “Swallow” and she did, which made Gretchen beam with satisfaction.
“Dear God. Bless this food.”
A few minutes later, Sarah brought a small cup of applesauce. This contained Ellen’s morning medicines. Sarah spooned the sweet applesauce and Ellen was happy to receive it. Sarah left to record that Ellen had taken her meds.
Gretchen turned on the radio and asked Ellen if she could hear it alright. It was the university pubic radio that Ellen always liked. The news was hard to follow, but the voices were authoritative and familiar and both women enjoyed the routine. Gretchen sat in a wooden chair by the bedside, a chair adorned with crocheted cushions, and she made soft conversational comment in response to the news items.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Sarah opened her eyes just before the alarm clock went off. Such a thing happened to her often. She attributed it to having a finely tuned internal clock. It was a relief not to have the jar of the loud ring to start the day. On this day she was aware of a headache and her right nostril was definitely stuffed. She recognized this as the start of a week of dragging energy. As she stepped into her slippers, she made a mental note to detour past the cabinet of medicines on the way to the bathroom. Or perhaps after. She’d flush her nose with warm saline … something she could only consider when she felt bad enough … and she’d see if she had any Nyquil left over from her last cold.

She wasn’t worried about passing it on to Gretchen and Ellen. They were the ones who’d given it to her. First Ellen had it. Mysteriousy since she didn’t come into contact with anyone except a few cats. The Gretchen, which was no surprise since she lunched every day with Ellen, spooning her meals and probably tasting some at the same time.

As soon as Sarah had peed she hear her daughters stirring in the other room off the hall. Nikki probably had enough wake time to wet the bed, so Sarah didn’t rush in. She went to the clean laundry bags which were still by the front door and she dug out clean clothes for Nikki and herself. And another set of clothes to pack in Nikki’s day care bag. Then, having forgotten the cold medicine, Sarah bounced cheerfully into Nikki’s room. “Rise and shine.” And Nikki was standing in the crib with a glorious smile on her face. Even wet with urine, Nikki was like a fresh rose. Sarah flopped her down with one hand and with the other, cleared away the wet sheets and pulled off the wet diaper. Nikki accepted the attention with aplomb and then in a few minutes crawled across the floor as Sarah stashed the dirty laundry. Then Sarah scooped her daughter up and took her into the bathroom where they both took a morning shower together.

2. Breakfast for Nikki was a messy affair. Wearing only a clean diaper, she sat in her Nana’s high chair and gnawed on a biscuit. Sarah mixed up her cereal and with a spoon aimed at her mouth while alternating her own spoon into a cup of yogurt on granola for herself.


Nikki continued to be smiley. When the shower temperature was perfect, Sarah held her on her hip and stepped into the shower letting the water cover their sputtering heads and soak their backs. Sara used shampoo to lather their hair and bodies. Nikki played witht the suds on her mother’s head while Sarah cooed a morning wakeup song. In short time, they stepped out and were buffeted with towels. Nikki was standing but not walking. Sarah sat on the toilet seat and modeled to Nikki how to put on underpants and an undershirt as Nikki played with her own shirt by tossing it up in her grip.

A quick comb, a dash of deoderant for Sarah and they were in Nikki’s room, washing the crib mattress cover and then putting a diaper on Nikki. Sarah pried the shirt out of Nikki’s fingers and with a getting dressed song, pulled the shirt over her head. Then the bib overhalls and the many snaps at the inseam, socks on spagghetti feet, the new shoes to celebrate her first steps, and she was ready.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

main character beginnings

A character has poor memory

Things can’t get worse, but they can.

A character’s child is cruel and heartless and grows up to be selfish and hurtful.

A character is unable to relieve another’s sorrow.

A character is oblivious to another person’s pain until it’s too late to help.

A character realizes he has forgotten obligations.

The friend of a character dies, but the character doesn’t know for a long time.

A character is planning to marry someone, but realizes she really doesn’t like him.

A character is planning to marry someone, but realizes her fiancĂ© doesn’t like her.

A character is not recognized for the good she does.

A character is put on a pedestal for the good she does.

A character wants intimacy but doesn’t like to be around people for long.

A character likes being around people, but doesn’t want intimacy.

Being a widow.

Having one’s admiration count for something.

Having one’s opinion affect another’s action to a greater degree than wished.

Not being understood. Speaking an unknown language. Having the wrong set of social cues.

Friends committing suicide.

Worrying about money and feeling guilty about worrying.

Losing friends because you said something about them to someone else.

Being a boring person.

Gretchen

A character has poor memory = Gretchen,

The girl was to come after breakfast. Breakfast was in the kitchen. Gretchen put on the robe that was next to her bed and stepped into her slippers. The orange cat curled itself briefly around her legs and raised her tail. Gretchen scratched its hind side and sent a grateful thought to God. As she went to the bathroom she tried to construct a satisfactory ending to her interrupted dream, but it slipped away leaving only an unresolved sensation. She flicked the light switch but nothing happened. Gretchen told herself to ask the girl to change the burnt out bulb and she left the door open to used the light from the hall. She thanked God for another day of continence and she took the last paper off the roll. She changed it and put the empty roll cardboard into her robe pocket.

Ellen

Things can’t get worse, but they can. - Gretchen

A character’s child is cruel and heartless and grows up to be selfish and hurtful. = Gretchen

A character is unable to relieve another’s sorrow. – Sarah, Gretchen

Being a widow. = Gretchen

Having one’s admiration count for something. = Gretchen

Worrying about money and feeling guilty about worrying. [ Gretchen

Ellen

A character has poor memory = Gretchen, Ellen

Not being understood. Speaking an unknown language. Having the wrong set of social cues. [ Ellen

Larry

A character is oblivious to another person’s pain until it’s too late to help. = Larry

A character realizes he has forgotten obligations. = larry

Sarah

The friend of a character dies, but the character doesn’t know for a long time. = sarah Having one’s opinion affect another’s action to a greater degree than wished. = Sarah

Friends committing suicide. = Sarah

A character is planning to marry someone, but realizes she really doesn’t like him. = Sarah

A character is put on a pedestal for the good she does. = Sarah

Nichel

A character is planning to marry someone, but realizes her fiancĂ© doesn’t like her. = Nichel

A character likes being around people, but doesn’t want intimacy. = Nichel

Losing friends because you said something about them to someone else. [ Nichel

Ed

A character wants intimacy but doesn’t like to be around people for long. = Ed

Being a boring person. [ Ed

…………………….

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Settings

Cement sidewalks cracked heaved by tree roots , grass , dog poo, wonder what they ate to make the poo like that, sometimes leached, sometimes too full of nutrition, ants, anthills of tan sand bursting out of contrasting soil, curbs. cars = heavy, bulky, colorful, chairs built for lounging, settling in to watch the movie of the passing scenery, too big for children who had to kneel to look outside. Children watching the door handle or their feet sticking out to the edge of the seat. Adults flicking cigarette ash out the triangular vent window. Sidewalks strangely empty. Save for the postman, save for children walking to or from school. Teenagers paired with friends, youngsters in bouncing packs. Crazy people that everyone knew their name but nobody talked with. A house with packed dirt in the place of lawn. Peppered with bits of toys. Separated from its neighbors with disorganization. Again everyone knew their name. Spilled sweet things attracting ants.

Stones missing in cement. Waiting for the stop light, watching others ignore it, if everyone else jumped off a cliff would you join them? Feeling awkward standing alone on the curb, holding the imaginary hand and waiting for the go ahead, wondering where I’d be now if I crossed, watching the alternative reality fade as it passed on ahead. The early bird catches the worm. Watching the alternative reality catching its worms. Following my lead. Letting hurry make my decisions. Letting hurry take responsibility. Hurry causing a blur where nothing is visible but the ground, nothing is seen but my feet. At the forefront. If I looked to the side I’d be off in a new direction. Holding myself intact with hurry. Pressing against the membrane of the future. Leaning into the …

Holding back has its own independence. Going slowly takes its own speed. Holds its own freedom, flexible in its increasing latitude. Fewer names to learn.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

character problems

A character has poor memory

Things can’t get worse, but they can.

A character’s child is cruel and heartless and grows up to be selfish and hurtful.

A character is unable to relieve another’s sorrow.

A character is oblivious to another person’s pain until it’s too late to help.

A character realizes he has forgotten obligations.

The friend of a character dies, but the character doesn’t know for a long time.

A character is planning to marry someone, but realizes she really doesn’t like him.

A character is planning to marry someone, but realizes her fiancĂ© doesn’t like her.

A character is not recognized for the good she does.

A character is put on a pedestal for the good she does.

A character wants intimacy but doesn’t like to be around people for long.

A character likes being around people, but doesn’t want intimacy.

Being a widow.

Having one’s admiration count for something.

Having one’s opinion affect another’s action to a greater degree than wished.

Not being understood. Speaking an unknown language. Having the wrong set of social cues.

Friends committing suicide.

Worrying about money and feeling guilty about worrying.

Losing friends because you said something about them to someone else.

Being a boring person and knowing it.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Bloodborne pathogens

The child with AIDS didn’t know he had AIDS. I found out when he had been hospitalized and a home/hospital teacher came to pick up work for him. That teacher told me that it had taken such a long time to get a teacher because Peanut had AIDS. I didn’t know that it was legal to tell people. I still don’t. His parents had died and his very affectionate grandmother was raising him. He was smaller than the other third graders and his friends called him Peanut. Because he was frequently absent from school, his grades were not very good. But he was a cheerful and willing student. The day I learned he had AIDS I went home and cried a great deal.


The next year I taught fourth grade and I had Peanut in my class again. I was careful to teach students universal precautions in the first week of school. Universal precautions is the term used to cover how one should deal with blood borne pathogens. Universal precautions tell us that we should treat everyone as if they had a disease like hepatitis b, or AIDS because one could never be sure they didn’t. In urban Baltimore that was even more important, and in my classroom, at least one bloodborne pathogen was a certain possibility.


One October it seemed that my worst fears were realized. Another student came running into the classroom with Peanut. Peanut was holding his arm out, dripping red.


“Peanut’s been stabbed!” the student shouted.


“Don’t touch it,” was my first response and I moved to push the other student out of reach.


Then he and Peanut started to laugh.


“It’s Halloween blood!’ they exclaimed.


It took me a few seconds for the information to soak into my panicking head. The blood was fake, it certainly had fooled the teacher, and the teacher’s reaction was certainly gratifying to the practical jokers.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Complicated dreams

My parents established a rule when we kids were young that one could not tell their dreams before they had eaten breakfast. By the time we’d eaten breakfast we’d forgotten our dreams or had found more entertainment in the wide-awake world. We grew up thinking that it was rude to tell one’s dreams, that it was an imposition to bore others with what was real only in our imagination. So now when someone wants to tell me about a dream, especially if they have just had it, I recoil as if someone is being rude to me.

This morning I woke up with the phrase “complex dream” in my head. As I tottered to the loo, I decided “complicated dream” was a better phrase. I noted the words as something I’d want to be using in my novel, words that would be fresh and far from cliche, words that would be useful. As the day went on, the phrase lost most of its charm. It wasn’t a clichĂ© but it didn’t pack a punch either (to use a clichĂ©).

So now I’m not only rethinking the phrase but rethinking my policy of not listening to others’ dreams. If dreams are truly experiences, as much as experiences are in the “real’ world , and I’m happy to listen to someone’s experience even those that have nothing to do with me, then I can listen to the dreams of someone else. Since I live alone, I can assume that the dreams I hear about will usually be after breakfast. Although I think the last time someone tried to tell me a dream it was my sister who was sharing a hotel room with me. My sister was always more oblivious to family norms than I was.

I grew up so sensitive to family rules that I probably imagined some of them. I was a lover of rules. I probably still am, which explains why I enjoy third graders so much. They are “ruly” kindred spirits. Knowing and following the rules has a certain security. People who know me would probably be startled to hear me say I’m attached to rules. I talk too much and too loudly, I sing too much and too often, I resort to sarcasm more than what is socially acceptable.

Here’s another rule, which was given to me by my grandmother: when you write, avoid using the word “I”. People who use “I” a lot are selfish and self centered. Stands to reason. The reader does not want to hear all about me, the reader wants me to indicate that I’m interested in them. So I’ve come to believe that I’m hopelessly selfish and self centered. Even a sentence indicating my avid interest in you begins with “I”. I’d love to hear what you think about such and such. I wonder how you are doing.

An unspoken rule of my upbringing was that the bathroom was a fantastic world, fresh from Science Fiction adjacent to your world. Once you step into the bathroom chamber and close the door, you leave the home world behind. You don’t communicate through that door. Conversations do not continue through a bathroom door. I did not realize this was a rule until I visited other people who did not have this rule. My friend Judy continued conversations in her bathroom and I was expected to join her. It was a culture shock.